‘She will have fled the abbey by now.’
‘Even if she has, unless she has access to a horse and can ride, she would not have been able to go far. Nevertheless …’
Fidelma fell silent at the sound of a soft footfall on the steps below.
The abbess started forward as if to say something but Fidelma placed a finger over her lips and motioned her back. Someone was climbing the stairs towards the clepsydra room.
Fidelma found her body tensing and she felt irritated that this was so. Surely, if anything, she had been trained not to respond to outside stimuli so that she was prepared at all times. She carefully relaxed her tightening muscles. And moved to stand with the abbess so that whoever entered the room would do so with their back towards them. Someone in the robes of the community came up the stair. Fidelma saw immediately it was not the figure of a young person, she had recognised who it was before they had turned to face into the room.
‘Sister Brónach! What are you doing here at this hour?’
Brónach nearly fell in her startled surprise. She then relaxed as she recognised Fidelma and then the abbess.
‘Why, I have just come from the chamber of Sister Berrach. The girl is distraught. She told me that murder has been committed here.’
‘You have seen her?’ Draigen demanded. ‘She woke you?’
‘No. I was awake already. I was about to come to the tower myself,’ explained Brónach. ‘I had realised that some time had passed since I heard the sounding of the gong. In fact, several time periods must have elapsed since I heard it. So I had risen to come to see what ailed the time-keeper. As I was about to leave my cell, I heard the noise of someone passing hurriedly down the corridor. I realised it was Sister Berrach. I went to see her and found her sitting on her bed in a distressed state. She told me that Sister Síomha was dead and I came directly here to see if she was imagining …’
She suddenly caught sight of the crumpled heap on the floor behind Fidelma and her mouth formed a round shape. Her hand came up to cover it. The eyes widened fearfully.
‘It is Sister Síomha,’ Abbess Draigen confirmed solemnly.
Fidelma, watching the expression on Sister Brónach’s face, was sure that she saw a momentary look of relief in her expression. But it was gone before she could be sure. The light of the lanterns helped to distort facial expressions anyway.
‘Sister Brónach, I require you to see what you can do about resetting the clepsydra,’ Abbess Draigen said, completely in charge again. ‘For generations this community has prided itself on the accuracy of our water-clock. Do what you can to recover the accuracy of our calculations.’
Sister Brónach looked bemused but bowed her head in acquiescence.
‘I will do my best, mother abbess, but …’ she cast a nervous glance to the body.
‘I will rouse some of the sisters to come and take our unfortunate sister to the subterraneus. You will not be alone long.’
It was while she was turning towards the stairs that an idea suddenly occurred to Fidelma. She turned hurriedly back to Sister Brónach.
‘Didn’t you show me that after each time period elapsed, and the gong was sounded, the watcher had to enter the time on a tablet of clay?’
Sister Brónach nodded affirmation.
‘That is the custom in case we loose track of the time periods.’
‘At what time did Sister Síomha make her last notation?’
Fidelma realised that this would at least give her an accurate knowledge of the time Sister Síomha was killed.
Sister Brónach was looking round for the clay writing tablet. She found it lying face-down by the stone-built fireplace and picked it up.
‘Well?’ prompted Fidelma, as she studied it.
‘The second hour of the day has been marked and the first pongc or time period after that.’
‘So? She was killed between two-fifteen and two-thirty this morning,’ mused Fidelma.
‘Is that important?’ demanded the Abbess Draigen impatiently. ‘We already know who did this terrible thing.’
‘What hour do you think it is now?’ Fidelma asked.
‘I have no idea.’
‘I have,’ said Sister Brónach. She went to the window and stared up at the lightening night sky. There was a complacent expression on her face. ‘It is well after the fourth hour of the day. I believe it is closer to the fifth hour.’
‘Thank you, sister,’ Fidelma acknowledged absently. Her mind was working rapidly. She asked the abbess, ‘Can you calculate how long ago it was since you found the body?’
Abbess Draigen shrugged.
‘I do not see that it matters …’
‘Indulge me,’ insisted Fidelma.
‘Less than an hour ago, I would say. I came to you almost immediately that I discovered it.’
‘Indeed. In fact it was much less than an hour ago,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘I would say that we have been here under half-an-hour.’
‘We should go in search of Sister Berrach rather than wasting time in this manner,’ Abbess Draigen insisted.
‘Can’t you question the poor girl in the morning?’ It was Sister Brónach who spoke, surprising Draigen. ‘Sister Berrach has suffered from the shock of finding the body.’
Fidelma asked: ‘Did she tell you that she had found the body?’
‘Not specifically. She told me that Sister Síomha was dead in the tower. So the fact that she found the body is surely obvious.’
‘Perhaps,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I think we should see Sister Berrach now. One thing more, though, since you are here,Sister Brónach,’ she added, causing the Abbess Draigen to heave an impatient sigh. ‘Does the name Mórrigú mean anything to you?’
Sister Brónach shuddered.
‘Surely the name of the evil one is well known, sister? In the ancient times, before the word of the Christ was brought to this land, she was regarded as the goddess of death and battles. She embodied all that was perverse and horrible among the supernatural powers.’
‘So, you have a knowledge of the old pagan ways, then?’ Fidelma observed.
Sister Brónach pouted.
‘Who would not know about the old gods and goddesses and the old ways? I was raised in these very forests where there are many who still cling to the old beliefs.’
Fidelma inclined her head and then, to Abbess Draigen’s apparent relief, turned, took up her candle again and preceded the abbess down the stairs. They had reached the ground floor of the tower when a hollow, knocking sound caused Fidelma to halt. It was the same sound that she had heard in the duirthech, the chapel. The far off banging of hollow wood resonated through the building.
Fidelma turned towards a darkened corner of the room, from where the sound echoed loudest, and moved forward cautiously, holding the candle before her.
‘That is only the stairs that lead to the cave below,’ Draigen’s voice came from behind her.
‘Has no one ever traced the source of this sound?’ Fidelma asked as she reached the top of the stairs.
‘No, why should we?’ breathed Draigen nervously. ‘It certainly does not come from our subterraneus.’
Fidelma peered down in the gloom.
‘Yet it appears to be coming from there. You said that you believed that it was caused by water filling a cave beneath the abbey?’
‘So I do,’ Draigen did not sound entirely convinced.‘Where are you going?’ she demanded as Fidelma began to descend the stone stairs into the cave below.
‘I just want to check …’ Fidelma did not finish but descended the narrow stairway.
The cave below was empty and now silent. Fidelma looked around in disappointment. There was no place one could hide. A few boxes in one corner but that was all. With a stifled sigh, she turned and began to make her way back up the steps, feeling her way against the cold wall with one hand to help her in the gloom.