Abbess Draigen swallowed.
‘You are as subtle as a serpent,’ she breathed softly. ‘You do not believe in obeying this law yet you use it to ensnare me.’
‘Not so,’ Fidelma replied, ignoring the insult. ‘Veritas simplex oratio est — the language of truth is simple.’
‘Yet you do not believe in this law which you now try to enforce,’ the abbess repeated stubbornly.
‘But you claim to believe in it. If your mind is dictated by logic, you must obey it. Indeed, you were the one who referred it to me as a justification of the crime that nearly happened here.’
The bell on the tower has started to sound.
Sister Lerben entered haughtily. She cast a sneering glance at Fidelma.
‘I presume that you would want to know that the bell for matins is sounding, mother abbess. The congregation will be expecting you.’
‘I have ears, Lerben. When my door is closed you should knock before entering.’ Abbess Draigen’s voice was a querulous yap. The young novice seemed stunned, obviously not expecting the reaction. Her face reddened and she went to say something, caught the angry eye of the abbess and hastily withdrew.
‘Do you wish to reject Ultan’s teachings …?’ pressed Fidelma. ‘Perhaps you need advice from your anam-chara, your soul-friend?’
Abbess Draigen suddenly rose angrily to her feet.
‘Sister Síomha was my anam-chara,’ she replied shortly. She seemed about to argue further but her jaw tightened. ‘Very well; I will revoke my accusation against Berrach.’
Fidelma also rose to her feet, almost casually.
‘That is good. It must be done before the community, as it was before the community that these accusations were made. Rescind the accusation, apologise and do penance.’
Abbess Draigen had an ugly expression on her face.
‘I have said that I will do as much.’
‘Good. Then, now is the appropriate time when the community are gathered for matins. I will escort Sister Berrach to the chapel as she may be wary of going abroad since violence was offered to her person — violence,’ she added softly, ‘in a sanctuary of the Faith.’
Then she left the abbess’s chamber.
Outside she paused a moment and breathed deeply. She was beginning to feel a sympathy with Adnár; his sister was a curious woman. She would have no course but to refer this matter to Abbot Brocc for, if Draigen was innocent of all other things, she was guilty of an incitement to kin-slayingand using another’s youth and lack of knowledge and experience to attempt to perpetrate that crime. That could not be absolved. There was, indeed, something perverse in Draigen’s character.
The bell was tolling and the figures of the religieuses were hurrying towards the duirthech — the chapel of the community. In Sister Berrach’s cell, Fidelma found the handicapped young sister being comforted by Sister Brónach and told them briefly what had transpired between her and the abbess.
When Fidelma arrived with Sister Berrach, struggling along with the aid of her staff and supported by the solicitous Sister Brónach, the community were gathered together. The abbess was standing behind the altar, almost directly behind the large ornate gold altar cross, while a chanter was leading the congregation in a Latin canticle.
Munther Beara beata
fide fundatacerta,
spe salutis ornata,
caritate perfecta.
Fidelma wondered whether the Abbess Draigen had purposefully chosen the chant. The words were simple. ‘The blessed community of Beara, founded on certain Faith, adorned with Hope of salvation, perfected by Charity.’ The sisters sang with an unquestioned conviction in their message.
As Fidelma led Berrach forward the voices lost their unison and raggedly died away. Heads raised and there was a nervous tension which swept along the rows of the congregation.
Fidelma squeezed gentle encouragement on Berrach’s arm.
The chant died away and Abbess Draigen moved majestically from her position and came to stand before the altar.
‘My children, I come before you to ask your forgiveness, for I have been guilty of a grievous fault. And allowing someone young and inexperienced to act wrongly on my advice.’
The opening words caused a sudden silence to descend; so silent that even the rasping winter breath of some of the congregation could be heard.
‘Moreover, I am guilty of a terrible injury to one of this community.’
The congregation began to understand now and were casting ashamed glances towards Berrach and at Fidelma. Berrach stood leaning on her staff, eyes downcast. Sister Brónach stood with head held high as if she was the one accepting the apology. Fidelma, on the other side of Berrach, also kept her head erect, her eyes fastened to those of the abbess.
‘Things have happened in this abbey which are the cause of alarm among our community; alarm and fear. This morning, as you will know, our rechtaire, Sister Síomha, was cruelly slain. Acting in partial knowledge, I accused one of this community. In impetuous enthusiasm to punish the person I deemed to be the culprit, I forgot the teachings of Our Lord, for is it not said in the book of John — “he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her”? I was with sin and I cast a stone. For my unjust actions, I crave forgiveness and will do a daily penance for a year from this day. That penance may be prescribed by you, my sisters, meeting in this congregation.’
She turned to look at Sister Lerben. The young novice stood with head held high and defiant. Fidelma glanced at her and was troubled by the depth of suppressed rage on her features. There would be problems with Sister Lerben before long, she thought.
‘Furthermore, I advised our young Sister Lerben erroneously and, having appointed her as my new rechtaire, asked her to go forth and act on my advice. For this I accept fullresponsibility. Lerben had not sufficient experience to know that I was in error. I apologise on her behalf.’
Before the astonished eyes of the gathered sisters, Sister Lerben suddenly made her way noisily from the chapel, like a petulant child.
Abbess Draigen stared somewhat sadly after her. There was a silence before she turned her attention to Sister Berrach.
‘Sister Berrach, before God and this congregation, I ask your forgiveness. It was fear and abomination of the dreadful death suffered by Sister Síomha and by the unnamed soul found in our well which caused me to lapse and cry “witch” at you and incite this congregation to do harm to you. Mine is the guilt and to you I turn asking for absolution.’
All eyes now turned on to Sister Berrach.
She shuffled forward a pace. There was a tense silence as she stood, as if hesitating in giving a decision. Fidelma saw that the abbess’s facial muscles were twitching as if she were trying to control her emotions. Fidelma wondered whether Berrach was going to reject Abbess Draigen’s apology. Then the girl spoke.
‘Mother abbess, you have quoted the words of the Gospel of John. John said that we deceive ourselves if we claim that we are all innocent of sin. The acceptance of our sins and confession is the first step to salvation. I forgive you your sin … yet I cannot absolve you from it. Only the Ever Living God can do that.’
Abbess Draigen looked as if she had been slapped in the face. It was clearly not the form of words that she had been expecting. And a murmur of surprise went up among the congregation. They had suddenly realised that Sister Berrach was no longer stuttering but speaking in a cold, clear and well-articulated tone.
The girl, using her staff as a fulcrum, pulled herself round and slowly lurched and swayed down the aisle to let herself out of the door.