“There was a man on horseback on the far bank. As I came onto the pier he started to shout and wave to me. I wondered what was up. It was too far to hear any words distinctly. He kept gesturing with his arm toward the water and that was when I looked down and saw the body.”
“Are you saying that this man might be a witness to what happened?” she asked quietly.
Brother Petrán shrugged.
“He certainly spotted the body and drew my attention to it.”
“Did you tell the Brehon this?”
“He thought it was irrelevant because of the evidence that showed the abbot’s involvement.”
“Can you describe the man on horseback? Did you know him?”
“He was a stranger. But he rode a fine horse and was dressed as a warrior. He carried the standard of the King of Cashel.”
“Then he must have been a messenger of the King, passing on his way to Cashel,” Fidelma cried in relief.
“We can find him.” Fidelma paused a moment and then continued: “What then? What happened after your attention was drawn to the body?”
“I raised a cry for help and, being a good swimmer, I jumped into the water and brought the body ashore. By that time Brother Cruinn, our apothecary, had arrived to help me.”
“And the man on the far bank?”
“When he saw that I had brought the body out of the water, he raised his hand and rode off. There was little else he could do for there was no boat on his side of the water.”
“You say that you could swim?” Fidelma went on. “Do you know if Brother Eolang was a swimmer?”
Brother Petrán shook his head immediately.
“He came from a small fishing community, islanders, who believe that it is wiser not to know how to swim for it is best to be drowned outright, falling into heavy, merciless seas, than prolonging the agony and torture of the body and soul by vain struggle.”
Fidelma suppressed a shiver at the idea.
“I have heard the philosophy although I do not agree with it. Was there no one else who came except the apothecary?”
“No one.”
“Do you know how long Brother Eolang had been in the water?”
“I do not. But the apothecary, Brother Cruinn, said. .”
Fidelma held up her hand to silence him.
“Perhaps we should leave Brother Cruinn to recount what he said,” she advised. “You can only give evidence as to your own views.”
Brother Petrán’s glance wandered past her shoulder and focussed.
“Then there is no better opportunity to hear his words for here is Brother Cruinn.”
Fidelma turned and saw an elderly man coming through the garden. He was strongly built, the arms of his robe rolled up around the elbows showing strong, muscular forearms. His hair was gray and eyes deep blue. He seemed puzzled at seeing the female religieuse in the herb garden.
Brother Petrán introduced her and the apothecary’s face relaxed.
“I was the one who noticed that this was no mere drowning, Sister,” he said with complacency.
“Poor Eolang. He assisted me as apothecary, you know.”
“Perhaps you will accompany me to the wooden pier and explain, on the way, the circumstances which aroused your suspicions?”
They left the herb garden and passed through a small door in a high stone wall which led immediately onto the bank of the island. Fidelma saw that the lake was very wide at this point. The pier, standing on wooden piles, was certainly old. Some of the planking was rotten and did not seem secure.
“This is in need of repair,” Fidelma commented.
“Indeed. It is only used for landing materials for our garden. The primary landing stage is at the main gate as you will have doubtless observed when you arrived.”
“Was there a specific reason why Brother Eolang was here?”
The apothecary rubbed his chin.
“He had gone out in the boat that morning to deliver something to the mainland and so, I presume, he was returning it so that Brother Petrán could use it to go to the market. Brother Petrán found his marsupium, his purse, still in the boat.”
“His purse was found in the boat?”
“He had probably forgotten it when he climbed onto the pier.”
“I understand that Brother Petrán retrieved the body of Brother Eolang from the water and then you answered his cries for assistance. Is that so?”
“I heard Brother Petrán from the herb garden and came straightaway,” confirmed Brother Cruinn.
“I saw immediately that poor Eolang was dead.”
“How long had he been dead? Could you tell?”
“I am proficient in my work, Sister.” The apothecary was proud of his professional capabilities which made him sound a trifle haughty in manner. “He had not been dead long. The blood was still flowing from the wound on his forehead and that was when I realized that murder had been committed.”
“Because of the wound? What was it like.”
“It was on the forehead, between the eyes. It was clear that someone had picked up a cudgel of some sort and smote the brother, who fell into the water and drowned.”
“And had you heard the story of how Brother Eolang had predicted that he would be murdered on that day?”
Brother Cruinn shook his head firmly.
“It was only afterwards that I learnt this story from Brother Senach.”
“But you worked with him. He was your assistant apothecary. Is it not strange that he did not mention this prediction?”
“He knew my views. I knew of Eolang’s reputation as an astrologer. Personally, I did not think much of it. I am a practical man but there are many in my profession who use it as an aid to their medical arts. However, it seems that this time Eolang was right.”
“This time?” queried Fidelma.
Brother Cruinn smiled deprecatingly.
“I have known many of Eolang’s predictions to fail. That is probably why he did not raise the matter of the prediction with me.”
Fidelma nodded thoughtfully.
She made her way back to the chamber of Brother Cass, the steward of the community, and found him in conversation again with Brehon Gormán.
“Have you sent for the messenger of the King of Cashel to hear his evidence?” she asked the Brehon without preamble.
Brehon Gormán looked bewildered.
“The man on horseback who drew Brother Petrán’s attention to the body,” she explained impatiently.
“Oh, that man? How did you find out he was a King’s messenger?” He paused at her expression and then added defensively: “I did not think his evidence would be relevant. After all, we have evidence enough about the incident.”
Fidelma scowled in annoyance.
“Don’t you realize that he might have witnessed the entire incident?” She turned to Brother Cass.
“You must send another messenger to Cashel immediately to find this man. He is one of the King’s messengers so his identity should be easy to discover. He must be brought here as an important witness.” She turned on her heel but at the door she paused and glanced back at the scowling Brehon and then looked at the unhappy steward.
“I shall expect my orders to be carried out, Brother Cass. I shall now speak with the abbot.”
Abbot Rígán was, at first meeting, a likable man; friendly, concerned, and bewildered at the situation in which he found himself. Only after talking to him for a time did Fidelma find that he was, indeed, rigid in his beliefs and a passionate supporter of the Roman Rule of the Faith.
“Did you kill Brother Eolang?” Fidelma demanded in opening the conversation after she had introduced herself.
“As God is my witness, I did not,” replied the abbot solemnly.
“Have you heard the nature of the evidence against you?”
“It is ridiculous! Surely no reasonable person would countenance such evidence as worth considering.”
“Brehon Gormán does. There is much to be explained in that evidence. Over a week ago Brother Eolang foretold that on such a day he would be killed by either drowning or poisoning. No one can deny that he did die in such circumstances.”