‘How is your wound, Brother, is it better?’ asked Fidelma, with a deprecating gesture. She found that, in spite of the steward’s effort to be friendly, there was nothing which endeared him to her. She still did not like him. The eyes were still cold and Fidelma felt that there was some merciless quality in the man.
‘Thanks be,’ acknowledged Brother Madagan. ‘The warrior luckily struck me on the skull with the flat of his sword. My head was pounding like the hammer of a smith on his anvil for a while. There is a lump the size of a camán ball.’
The camán ball, called a liathróid, was about four inches in diameter, made of some light, elastic material, such as woollen yarn, wound round and round and covered with leather. It was used in the game of hurley.
‘We thought that you had been killed for sure,’ Eadulf said.
‘The unGodly are not so easily victorious,’ Brother Madagan intoned piously. Yet there was a cold note of hatred in his voice.
‘Yet they inflicted much death and destruction,’ pointed out Fidelma.
Madagan’s eyes were like ice.
‘So Sister Scothnat has told me. Alas, I should not have tried to stop the raider by a plea to religious sanctuary. He could not have understood the term. Steel was all he understood.’
‘So you were regaining consciousness when you were dragged through the gates?’ asked Fidelma.
‘Yes. Though my mind is hazy and I think I was more unconscious than conscious. I remember feeling thankful when the abbey gates were banged shut. Then I do not remember much until I heard cheering. Sister Scothnat tells me that this was when your cousin, the Prince of Cnoc Aine, arrived and drove the raiders away.’
Fidelma looked thoughtful for a moment.
‘Do you remember being carried to your cell?’ she asked.
Madagan nodded slightly. He winced as the action caused the obvious ache to his cracked skull to worsen momentarily.
‘Do you remember anything beforehand?’
The steward considered for a moment. ‘Such as?’
‘You say that you remember being dragged into the courtyard?’
‘I do. I remember hearing some lamentation from the brethren over poor young Brother Daig. Indeed, he was no more than seventeen years.’
‘There was also the captured raider who lay trussed up nearby.’
Brother Madagan’s eyes flickered with momentary fire.
‘Sister Scothnat told me that he had been captured but not killed. Had I known then what I know now, I doubt not that I would have risen and killed him myself.’ Fidelma felt the intensity in his voice. He hesitated and relaxed. ‘You condemn me for the thought? A Brother of the Faith should not give voice to such natural feelings of hate and anger? Yet Daig was such a gentle soul and would have harmed no one. He had no violence in him and yet that animal struck him down. I will not pray for his soul, Sister Fidelma.’
There was a brief silence.
‘I will not ask you to,’ Fidelma replied gravely. ‘What I will ask you to do is cast your mind back to that time, Brother Madagan. Do you remember being carried back to your chamber?’
Brother Madagan rubbed his chin.
‘Vaguely. The apothecary came to check on each of us, I think. He bent over me. I was still trying to recover consciousness. He saw that I had received a blow on the head but not an open wound and told two young brothers to help me to my room and bathe and bind my head.’
‘The apothecary?’ Eadulf leant forward eagerly.
‘Brother Bardan. We have no other apothecary here.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘I was carried to my cell as he instructed.’
‘Had he examined the others before you? Or did he examine you first?’ Fidelma asked.
‘As I recall — remember that I was only partially conscious — I think he examined Brother Daig first. He was quite moved by the fact that the boy was dead. They were close. It was only when Brother Tomar insisted that he must look to the living that he came to me. While he did so, two of the Brothers were removing the body of Cred and another two removing that of Brother Daig.’ He grimaced without humour. ‘I think that the last thing Iremember was hearing the whining merchant arguing with Brother Bardan.’
‘The merchant? Do you mean Samradán?’ asked Fidelma hastily. ‘Was he in the courtyard at that time? Surely he was hiding in the chapel vaults with the women of the community?’
‘No. I remember he was definitely in the courtyard and arguing with Brother Bardán. He was demanding something. Protection, I think. I recall now that Brother Bardán shouted to him that he should fend for himself because people lay dead and dying. I am afraid the merchant is a selfish man.’
‘Fend for himself for people lay dead and dying? Were those Bardán’s words?’
‘Yes. You have stirred my memory, Fidelma.’
‘So you were the last to be removed from the courtyard?’
‘With the exception of the raider,’ agreed Brother Madagan.
‘Well, it is good to see that you are recovering, Brother Madagan.’ Fidelma rose from her place, and Brother Madagan followed her example hesitantly.
‘Sister Scothnat says that the attack was carried out by the Uí Fidgente. Is that true?’
‘We do not know,’ corrected Fidelma. ‘It is only suspicion that lays the blame on them.’
Brother Madagan sighed.
‘We have to be suspicious of our enemies. It is our only defence against betrayal and treachery.’
‘Suspicion is the mother of suspicion, Brother Madagan,’ replied Fidelma. ‘If you let suspicion into your heart you will allow all trust to exit from it.’
‘You may be right,’ Brother Madagan said. ‘However, we may place our trust in God … but we should ensure our horse is tethered safely at night. I only ask because an Uí Fidgente has arrived here. I do not like him. He says he is a dálaigh.’
‘I know. He is what he says he is, Brother Madagan. His name is Solam and he proceeds to Cashel to plead the case of his Prince before the Brehons there. I am to plead against him.’
‘Is it so?’ Brother Madagan seemed about to say something else and then he smiled and left them almost abruptly.
Eadulf glanced at Fidelma.
‘Brother Bardán and Samradan were both in the courtyard with that warrior. My wager would be on Brother Bardan. I think he is our main suspect. The motive is obviously vengeance for the death of his friend, Brother Daig.’
Fidelma considered the matter for a moment.
‘Perhaps. There is a doubt in my mind. It could well be that the warrior was killed in order that he did not reveal who sent him and his comrades. Also, you are quite forgetting the disappearance of the contents of the warrior’s saddle bags from the stable. Why would Brother Bardan remove the contents of the saddle bags if he had killed the warrior merely out of vengeance?’
Eadulf groaned. He had indeed forgotten the very reason why they had set out to look for Brother Bardan in the first place.
‘We’d better find Brother Bardán,’ he said. ‘I did not see him at either the service or the meal.’
He was surprised when Fidelma replied: ‘We do not have to question him at the moment. We know where he was at the time when the warrior was stabbed. We know he had the time and opportunity. But I am not satisfied how it links up with everything else that has happened here. Are you sure that Brother Bardán did not come in for the meal?’
‘I didn’t see him.’
‘We shall keep an eye on him without alarming him.’
‘There has been no word about the discovery of the remains of Sarnradán’s driver,’ Eadulf added with an involuntary shiver.
Fidelma wrinkled her nose distastefully.
‘Sometimes those taken by wolves are never found. I will say a prayer for the repose of that poor man’s soul.’