Eadulf shut his eyes for a moment.
‘Dignait? Was she responsible?’
‘It would appear that Dignait knew who prepared the poisonous dish.’
‘Then who killed Dignait?’
‘I believe I know. But I need to discover the answers to a few more questions first.’
‘Where was Dignait found? I thought she had disappeared from the rath?’
‘In an underground chamber on Archú’s farmstead.’
Eadulf showed his surprise.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I am calling everyone who is concerned into the hall of assembly at midday when I will reveal who the killer is.’
Eadulf smiled grimly.
‘I will make myself strong enough to attend,’ he averred.
She shook her head.
‘You will remain here with Grella until you are well.’
The fact that Eadulf did not bother to argue showed that he was still very weak.
‘Are you suggesting that there is one killer for all the deaths which have happened?’
‘I suspect that there is one person responsible,’ she replied enigmatically.
‘Who?’
Fidelma gave a small laugh.
‘Get yourself well, Eadulf. I’ll come to you as soon as I am sure.’
She reached forward, took his hand and squeezed it.
Outside Gadra was checking some pungent broth for Eadulf. The odour was powerful. The young girl Grella had brought it from the kitchen. She looked nervous in Fidelma’s presence but Fidelma smiled encouragement, thanking her for all she had done.
Grella bobbed nervously.
‘I will bring your breakfast now, sister.’
While Fidelma washed the food was bought so that she was able to dress and finish eating by the time Gadra had finished giving an unappreciative Eadulf the herbal soup. By the sound ofit, he was not a particularly good patient for his protests at the taste echoed through the hostel. Fidelma put her head into the cubicle.
‘Shame on you, Eadulf. Unless you make yourself better, I shall not tell you what happens at noon.’
Gadra looked up with a frown.
‘What happens at noon?’
‘I have told Eadulf that at noon everyone concerned with this matter will gather in the hall of assembly. That will mean you and Móen. Is the young man all right?’
‘He has been much cheered by what you have done for him,’ Gadra replied. ‘He is a bright, sensitive young man, Fidelma. He deserves a chance in life. We shall be there at noon.’
It was half an hour later that she crossed to the church of Cill Uird and strode inside. A figure was kneeling before the altar in an attitude of prayerful contemplation.
‘Father Gormán!’
The priest started up in surprise.
‘You have interrupted me at prayer, Sister Fidelma.’ His voice was filled with irritation.
‘I have urgent need to speak with you.’
Father Gormán turned to the altar, genuflected and climbed slowly from his knees.
‘What is it, sister?’ he asked wearily.
‘I thought you should know that Dignait is dead.’
The priest visibly winced but he did not seem unduly surprised.
‘So many deaths,’ he sighed.
‘Too many deaths,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Five deaths already in this pleasant valley of Araglin.’
Gormán looked at her uncertainly.
‘Five?’ he queried.
‘Yes. A stop must be put to this carnage. We must put a stop to it.’
‘We?’ Father Gormán seemed nonplussed.
‘I think you can help me.’
‘What can I do?’ There was almost a suspicious note to his voice.
‘You were Muadnat’s soul-friend, weren’t you?’
‘I prefer the Roman term — confessor. And, indeed, I was confessor to most people here in Araglin.’
‘Very well. However you describe your role, I want to know whether Muadnat ever mentioned gold to you?’
‘Are you asking me to break the sacredness of the confessional?’ thundered Father Gormán.
‘It is a confidentiality that I do not recognise but I respect your right to believe in it. Let me put some questions to you. I believe that Dignait had been a servant here for many years?’
‘Dignait? I thought you wanted to ask me about Muadnat?’
‘Let us concentrate on Dignait for a moment. She had been here since Cranat came here to marry Eber, hadn’t she?’
‘That is so.’
‘Did you notice to whom her loyalties lay?’
‘Why to this house of Araglin.’
‘Not to one person? Cranat for example?’
Father Gormán hesitated and looked awkward.
‘And didn’t Dignait hate Eber?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘Hate?’ Father Gormán shook his head. ‘She did not respect him but that is not hate. She was closer to young Crón than her mother and would do anything for her.’
‘She would do anything for Crón?’ repeated Fidelma thoughtfully.
‘No crime in that,’ Gormán observed.
‘No. No crime in that in itself.’ She paused. ‘You don’t like Dubán, do you?’
This question was asked abruptly.
Father Gormán was annoyed.
‘What have my likes and dislikes to do with this matter?’ he demanded.
‘Just an observation,’ she conceded. ‘I have seen you arguing with him. I simply wondered why you disliked him.’
‘He is a man with ambition. I believe he wants to be chieftain of Araglin. Do you know that he is trying to beguile young Crón?’
‘Beguile? Now that is a strange word to use. Allure, enchant or deceive. Is this what you mean?’
Father Gormán thrust out his chin.
‘Observe his relationship for yourself.’
‘Oh, that I have.’
‘I feel sorry for Cranat. She was the wife of a chieftain without moral scruples and mother to a young woman whose innocence blinds her to the ambitions of a man old enough to be her father.’
‘I recall that you hated Eber as well.’
‘True, I could barely tolerate him. Eber was a sinner before God and man. There is no forgiveness for such a man who has transgressed against his fellow man and his God.’
‘As a priest, you should have compassion. Instead I find much hate in you. It is for you to be forgiving. Did not Paul write to the Ephesians saying: “Be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving one another even as God, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven you”? If God can forgive, so can his priest.’
Father Gormán stared at her for a moment. Then he grimaced in anger.
‘You should have read further into that epistle to the Ephesians. Paul said: “For this you know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.” Eber will have no inheritance in the afterlife.’
‘And because he lay with his own sisters or even worse?’
‘All I say is that this world is better off without Eber of Araglin. The sooner this valley is purged of evil, the better.’
‘So it is not purged yet in your eyes? Did you know that Muadnat had a gold mine?’
Father Gormán bit his lip. ‘How much do you know of this?’
‘You will find out. Be in the hall of assembly at noon.’
Fidelma left the chapel abruptly with Father Gormán standing staring after her. He stood absolutely still until she had gone and then turned hurriedly towards his sacristy.
Outside the chapel Fidelma met Crón.
The young tanist acknowledged her with a grave face.
‘How is Brother Eadulf this morning?’
‘Well enough, thanks be to God,’ replied Fidelma.
‘I spoke with Dubán this morning,’ the tanist went on slightly uneasily. ‘He says that you are near to discovering who has put such misery onto the people of this valley?’
‘Oh yes. In fact, I was coming to find you to request the use of the hall of assembly at noon today. I am asking all those I feel concerned in this matter to attend so that I may reveal the names of those responsible for the effusion of blood in this valley.’