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There was a sudden hush in the hall. Crón cast a glance towards where Móen was sitting. Her face was ghastly.

‘Do you mean that he … that Teafa … his mother? That Eber …?’ She could not articulate properly and gave up with a shudder.

‘I have no doubt that Teafa suffered from Eber’s molestation,’ Fidelma continued calmly. ‘But there was another sister named Tomnát.’

Dubán was on his feet, his face suffused with anger.

‘How dare you bring her name into this!’ he exclaimed. ‘How dare you suggest that she was mother to a … a …’

‘Gadra!’ Fidelma, ignoring his outburst, turned to the old hermit. ‘Gadra, who was Móen’s mother?’

The old man bowed his head, his shoulders slumped in resignation.

‘You know the answer already.’

‘Then tell everyone, so that they may know the truth.’

‘It was the year before Eber married Cranat that this happened. Tomnát became pregnant with Eber’s child. Teafa knew of it.’

‘Tomnát loved me!’ Dubán cried, his voice cracking with emotion. Crón was staring at him unable to believe his outburst. ‘She would have told me if this had been true. She disappeared. Eber killed her, of that I am sure.’

‘Not so,’ replied Gadra sadly. ‘The secret was kept between Tomnat and Teafa. They knew that if it was known, if either Eber or Father Gormán heard of it, then the child might have been killed. Eber to hide his shame and Father Gormán because he is of an intolerant faith. Gormán approves the custom of many Christian lands in which such children born of incest are put to death in the name of morality. There would be no help from Father Gormán for poor Tomnat if she had tried to turn to him.’

‘Why didn’t Tomnat turn to Dubán. He protests that he loved her and that she loved him.’ Fidelma’s lips thinned. ‘Surely, if this were so, she would have turned to Dubán for help?’

‘Not so,’ the old man replied. ‘If it is the truth you want, then here it is. Tomnát knew that Dubán was far too concerned with his ambition to go to Cashel and receive the golden collar of a warrior. In spite of his professed love, Dubán would never have endangered the fulfilment of his ambition. Could she trust him to accept the child, the child of her own brother?’

Dubán leant forward, head cradled in his hands.

‘So she turned to you, Gadra?’ quietly prompted Fidelma.

‘Before her condition became noticeable, Tomnat left Araglin. She came to join me in my hermitage where she knew that she would be safe. Only Teafa knew where she was.’

‘If Tomnat could not tell me, why didn’t Teafa tell me?’ cried Dubán. ‘I spent weeks scouring the valley, thinking that Eber had killed her.’

‘Teafa kept faith with Tomnát’s request,’ the old man said.

‘Go on,’ urged Fidelma. ‘What happened?’

‘When her time came, Tomnat died giving Móen life. Teafa was with her and she resolved to take the baby and bring it up, claiming it to be a foundling. She did not know until later thatthe child was handicapped and then she refused to give him up having sworn an oath to her dead sister.’

Eyes were turned on the young man whose face creased in anguish as Gadra translated what he had been saying.

Fidelma looked round the hall with a contemptuous expression.

‘You are a farming community here. Farmers! You know about inbreeding. You know that the offspring of closely related animals usually have a magnification of certain traits of their parents in behaviour or health. Some of these traits may be favourable ones — they could lead to higher intelligence — but other traits could develop; ones that are detrimental and unhealthy. Traits that give rise to deafness, blindness and the inability to give voice.’

Crón interrupted, her voice full of distaste.

‘So are you saying that we must accept Móen as the son of my father … his own uncle? That he is my … my half-brother?’

She shivered as she said it.

‘Tomnát died and left a living child,’ confirmed Fidelma. ‘Teafa, as we all know, pretended that he was a foundling, discovered while she was hunting in the forest. At first it was not suspected that the child was unlike other children. But then Teafa realised that things were wrong with the child. She sent for Gadra and Gadra, being a wise man and healer, realised the problem. He could not heal the afflictions caused by the incest but he taught Teafa a means of communicating with Móen. Apart from the physical problems, the child was highly intelligent and able to learn. Teafa raised a talented boy.’

‘Are you saying that Eber did not even know that Móen was his own son?’ asked Agdae.

‘By all accounts he was kind to the boy,’ Fidelma replied. ‘Of all the people here, all who hated Eber, only Móen did not.’

She turned once again to Gadra.

‘Ask Móen whether he knew that Eber was his father.’

Gadra shook his head.

‘No need for that. He has suffered much. I will tell you, however,that Teafa never told the boy. It was for his own protection. Nor was Eber told that Móen was his flesh and blood, so far as I know.’

‘In fact, Eber was eventually told,’ Fidelma said quickly. ‘There was a row one day which was witnessed by the youth Crítán. We will come to that later.’

‘Why is my father’s … sexual life,’ interrupted Crón, pausing a moment and then reforming her thoughts. ‘While this may be of interest, it does not tell us who is responsible for Eber and Teafa’s death.’

‘Oh, but it does.’

‘Please explain then,’ invited the tanist coldly. ‘Are you saying that you now believe Móen to be guilty? That he found out who his real father was? That he hated him for the wrong which Eber had done to his mother and himself?’

Fidelma shook her head.

‘I dismissed the charge that Móen was the killer at an early stage of this investigation. Even before I had spoken with him, I knew Móen was not the killer.’

‘Perhaps you will explain why?’ Father Gormán asked dryly. ‘It seemed perfectly clear to me.’

‘The original accusation was that Móen had killed Teafa and then made his way to Eber’s apartments and killed him. There were certain things wrong with this idea. Firstly, from the haughty young Crítán I learnt that he had seen Teafa alive after Móen went to Eber’s apartments. To be responsible for both murders, Móen would have had to kill Teafa first and then Eber.’

‘Why couldn’t he have done that?’ demanded Agdae.

‘Because Menma claimed that he had found Móen bending over the body of Eber, knife in hand, having just killed him. The whole essence of the charge is that Móen was caught almost in the act.’

They greeted the point in silence. Then Crón said: ‘But Menma has already been condemned by you as a murderer and therefore a liar. Perhaps he lied.’

‘He told lies right enough,’ agreed Fidelma impassively. ‘But not in this instance. His discovery of Móen at the scene of this crime was a gift. It could not have worked out better. But Teafa was still alive when Móen entered Eber’s apartments. Crítán, returning from Clídna’s establishment, saw Móen on his way to Eber’s apartments and then saw Teafa still alive standing by her cabin with a lamp. For a moment, when he was telling me this story, I think Crítán recognised the illogic of it. But he wanted Móen to be guilty, so he ignored it.

‘Móen had been for a walk in the early hours of the morning and was just entering the cabin of Teafa when someone handed him an Ogam stick. Ogam is the method by which one communicates with Móen. Móen told me that someone with calloused hands, but whom he had thought, by the rich perfume he detected, was a female, had pressed the Ogam stick into his hand. It told him to go to Eber’s apartments at once. He did so and, having stumbled over the body, it was there that Menma found him. The person who pressed the Ogam stick into Móen’s hands was the killer who meant him to be discovered and condemned.’