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‘You do not have to ask permission of the mother abbess to reply to my questions,’ Fidelma said sharply.

‘Every member of this community was accounted for,’ replied Sister Síomha defensively. ‘I did not mislead you.’

‘You told me nothing of Comnat and Almu.’

‘What was there to tell you? They are on a mission to Ard Fhearta.’

‘They are not in the abbey.’

‘Yet they are accounted for.’

Fidelma exhaled in exasperation.

‘Semantics!’ she jeered. ‘Do you care more about morphology, with word formations and inflections, than with truth?’

‘You did not …’ began Sister Síomha, but this time it was Abbess Draigen who interrupted.

‘We must help Sister Fidelma all we can, Sister Síomha,’ she said, causing the young sister to glance at her in surprise. ‘She is, after all, a dálaigh of the court.’

There was a slight pause.

‘Very well, mother abbess,’ Sister Síomha said, bowing her head in compliance.

‘Now, as I understand it,’ began Fidelma determinedly, ‘there are two members of this community who are not in the abbey?’

‘Yes.’

‘And they are the only two members of your community who are unaccounted for?’

‘They are not unaccounted for …’ began Sister Síomha but halted at the look of thunder on Fidelma’s face. ‘There is no one else outside of the abbey at the moment,’ she confirmed.

‘I am told that they left for Ard Fhearta three weeks ago.’

‘Yes.’

‘Surely the journey there and back is not so long? When were they expected to return?’

It was Abbess Draigen who confessed: ‘They are overdue. That is true, sister.’

‘Overdue?’ Fidelma arched an eyebrow disdainfully. ‘And no one thought to inform me of this?’

‘It has no bearing on this matter,’ interposed the abbess.

‘I am the arbiter of what has or has not a bearing on the matter,’ replied Fidelma icily. ‘Have you had any word from the sisters since they left?’

‘None,’ replied Sister Síomha.

‘And when were they expected back?’

‘They were expected back after ten days.’

‘Have you informed the local bó-aire?’ The question wasdirected at Abbess Draigen. ‘Whatever you may think of Adnár, he is the local magistrate.’

‘He would be of no help,’ Draigen said defensively. ‘But nevertheless, you are right. He shall be informed that they are missing. Messengers often go between his fortress and that of Gulban which is on the road to Ard Fhearta.’

‘I shall be seeing Adnár shortly to discuss the matter we have touched on, abbess. I will inform him of this matter. Tell me, what are these sisters like? A physical description, if you please.’

‘Sister Comnat has been here at least thirty years. She is sixty or more years of age and has been our librarian and our chief penman for fifteen of those years. She is well skilled in her work.’

‘I need a more physical description,’ insisted Fidelma.

‘She is short and thin,’ replied Draigen. ‘Her hair is grey though her eyebrows still retain the blackness of their youth and the eyes, too, are dark. She has a distinctive mark, a scar on her forehead where once a sword cut her.’

Fidelma mentally ruled out the librarian as the headless victim.

‘And of Sister Almu?’

‘She was chosen to accompany Sister Comnat not only because she is her assistant but because she is young and stronger. She is about eighteen. Fair-haired and blue-eyed with pleasing features. She is a little on the short side.’

Fidelma was silent for a moment.

‘The headless corpse could have been eighteen years old. It gave the impression of fairness and was short in stature.’

‘Are you claiming that this headless corpse is Sister Almu?’ demanded the abbess in disbelief.

‘It is not!’ snapped Sister Síomha.

‘Almu was a close friend of my steward,’ Draigen explained. ‘I am prepared to believe that she would recognise the body of Almu.’

Fidelma folded her arms determinedly.

‘Since we like to play with semantics, mother abbess, let me be precise. I am saying that it could be Sister Almu. You say Almu is an assistant to the librarian and worked copying books?’

‘Yes. Sister Almu promises to be one of our best scribes. She is highly proficient in her art.’

‘There was blue staining on the fingers of the hand of the corpse. Would that not point to the corpse having worked with a pen?’

‘Staining?’ interrupted Sister Síomha in annoyance. ‘What staining?’

‘Do you tell me that you did not notice the blue stains on thumb, index finger and along the edge of the little finger where it would rest on paper? The blue-black of an ink? The sort of stain someone who practised penmanship might have?’

‘But Sister Almu is with Sister Comnat at Ard Fhearta,’ protested the abbess.

‘She is certainly not among the community of this abbey, that much is certain,’ Fidelma commented dryly. ‘Are you sure that no one recognised the body?’

‘How can one recognise the body without a head?’ Sister Síomha demanded. ‘And if it was Almu, I would know. She is a close friend of mine, as the abbess has said.’

‘Perhaps you are right,’ conceded Fidelma. ‘But as to recognising a body without a head, why, I have just shown you one method of recognition. I will acknowledge that, in a religious community, one’s first and usually only contact with the physical features of a fellow religious is with the face. But I would ask, didn’t the thought ever occur that, as these sisters were overdue, there was a remote possibility that this body, which had marks of being a member of the Faith, was that of your assistant librarian?’

‘Not even a slightest’ thought,’ replied Sister Síomha stiffly. ‘Neither does your suggestion make it so. You have provided no proof that the body belongs to Almu.’

‘No, that is so,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘What I am doing at this time is putting forward some hypotheses based on the information that I am now getting. Information which,’ she held Abbess Draigen’s eyes a moment and then turned to Sister Síomha who now dropped her gaze, ‘information which should have been given me freely, instead of this wasting of time with the sins of self-regard.’

‘Why would anyone want to stab and decapitate Sister Almu and thrust her body down a well?’ demanded the abbess. ‘If it is the body of the sister, that is.’

‘We have not been able to prove it was Almu. And we doubtless will not until we find the other part of the corpse.’

‘You mean her head?’ asked the abbess.

‘I have been told that when the corpse was taken from the well, no one was allowed to draw water and that the community has used the other springs hereabouts?’

Abbess Draigen nodded confirmation.

‘Has anyone been down the well shaft to see if the head was also placed down there?’

The abbess looked towards Sister Síomha.

‘The answer is — yes,’ Sister Síomha replied. ‘As steward it was my duty to arrange for the purification of the well. I sent one of our strongest young girls down it.’

‘And she was?’

‘Sister Berrach.’

Fidelma’s expression showed total astonishment.

‘But Sister Berrach is …’ She bit her tongue, regretting what she had been about to say.

‘A cripple?’ sneered Sister Síomha. ‘So you have noticed her?’

‘I merely observed that Sister Berrach is surely disabled. How can she be strong?’

‘Berrach has been in this community since she was three years old,’ said the abbess. ‘She was adopted not long before I came here myself and raised by the community. Althoughthe growth of her legs was stunted, she has developed a strength in her arms and torso that is truly surprising.’

‘And did she find anything when she went down the well? Perhaps I should hear this from her own lips?’