“There is some doubt about your suspicion of them?”
Fidelma smiled sadly.
“We will see,” she said. “I would like a word alone with your sister.”
Bláth nodded toward the farmstead.
“I forgot something at my uncle’s mill. You’ll find Blinne at the farmhouse.”
The girl left Fidelma and continued up the path to the mill while Fidelma went on to the farmhouse. As she approached she heard Blinne’s voice raised in agitation.
“It’s not true, I tell you. Why do you bother me so?”
Fidelma halted at the corner of a building. In the farmyard she saw Tadhg confronting the girl. Blinne was standing looking distracted.
“The dálaigh already suspects,” Tadhg was saying.
“There is nothing to suspect.”
“It is obvious that Ernán was murdered, killed by a human hand. Obvious that Bláth was covering up with some story about a Banshee. It did not fool me nor will it fool this woman. I know you hated Ernán. I know it is me that you really loved. But surely there was no need to kill him? We could have eloped and you could have divorced him.”
Blinne was shaking her head in bewilderment.
“I don’t know what you are saying. How can you say this. .”
“I know. Do not try to fool with me. I know how you felt. The important thing is to flee from this place before the dálaigh can find the evidence. I can forgive you because I have loved you since you were a child. Come, let us take the horses and go now. We can let Bláth know where we have gone later. She can send us some money afterward. I am sure the dálaigh suspects and will be here soon enough.”
With a thin smile Fidelma stepped from behind the building.
“Sooner than you think, Tadhg,” she said quietly.
The young man wheeled ’round; his hand went to the knife at his belt.
“Don’t make it worse for yourself than it already is,” snapped Fidelma.
Tadhg hesitated a fraction and let his hand drop, his shoulders slumping in resignation.
Blinne was gazing at them in bewilderment.
“I don’t understand this.”
Fidelma glanced at her sadly and then at Tadhg.
“Perhaps we can illuminate the situation?”
Blinne’s eyes suddenly widened.
“Tadhg claimed that he has always loved me. When he came back from Finnan’s Height he would waylay and annoy me like a sick dog, mooning after me. I told him that I didn’t love him. Is it. . it cannot be. . did he. . did he kill. .?”
Tadhg glanced at her his face in anguish.
“You cannot reject me so, Blinne. Don’t try to lay the blame for Ernán’s death on me. I know you pretended that you did not love me in public but I had your messages. I know the truth. I told you to elope with me.”
His voice rose like a wailing child.
Blinne turned to Fidelma.
“I have no idea what he is saying. Make him stop. I cannot stand it.”
Fidelma was looking at Tadhg.
“You say that you had messages from Blinne? Written messages?”
He shook his head.
“Verbal but from an unimpeachable source. They were genuine, right enough, and now she denies me and tries to blame me for what has happened. .”
Fidelma held up her hand to silence him.
“I think I know who gave you those messages,” she said quietly.
______
After the burial of Ernán, Fidelma sat on the opposite side of the fire to Brother Abán in the tiny stone house next to the chapel. They were sipping mulled wine.
“A sad story,” sighed Brother Abán. “When you have seen someone born and grow up, it is sad to see them take a human life for no better reason than greed and envy.”
“Yet greed and envy are two of the great motivations for murder, Brother.”
“What made you suspect Bláth?”
“Had she said that she heard this Banshee wail once, it might have been more credible because she had a witness in her uncle who heard the wail. All those with whom I spoke, who had claimed to have heard it, said they heard it once, like Glass did, on the morning of Ernán’s killing. The so-called Banshee only wailed once. It was an afterthought of Bláth, when she had killed her brother-in-law.”
“You mean that she was the one wailing?”
“I was sure of it when I heard that she had a good voice and, moreover, knew the caoine, the keening, the lament for the dead. I have heard the caoine and know it was a small step from producing that terrible sound to producing a wail associated with a Banshee.”
“But then she claimed she had done so to lay a false trail away from her sister. Why did you not believe that?”
“I had already been alerted that all was not well, for when I asked Blinne about her sleep, I found that she had not even awoken when Ernán had risen in the morning. She slept oblivious to the world and woke in a befuddled state. She was nauseous and had a headache. Blinne admitted that both she and Bláth knew all about herbal remedies and could mix a potion to ensure sleep. Bláth had given her sister a strong sleeping draught so that she would not wake up. Only on the third night did an opportunity present itself by which she killed Ernán.
“Her intention all along was to lay the blame at her sister’s door but she had to be very careful about it. She had been planning this for some time. She knew that Tadhg was besotted by Blinne. She began to tell Tadhg an invented story about how Blinne and Ernán did not get on. She told Tadhg that Blinne was really in love with him but could not admit it in public. She hoped that Tadhg would tell someone and thus sow the seeds about Blinne’s possible motive for murder.”
Brother Abán shook his head sadly.
“You are describing a devious mind.”
“To set out to paint another as guilty for one’s own acts requires a clever but warped mind. Bláth was certainly that.”
“But what I do not understand is why-why did she do this?”
“The oldest motives in the world-as we have said-greed and envy.”
“How so?”
“She knew that Ernán had no male heirs and so on his death his land, under the law of the banchomarba would go to Blinne. And Bláth stood as Blinne’s banchomarba. Once Blinne was convicted of her husband’s death then she would lose that right, and so the farm and land would come to Bláth, making her a rich woman.”
Fidelma put down her empty glass and rose.
“The moon is up. I shall use its light to return to Cashel.”
“You will not stay until dawn? Night is fraught with dangers.”
“Only of our own making. Night is when things come alive and is the mother of counsels. My mentor, Brehon Morann, says that the dead of night is when wisdom ascends with the stars to the zenith of thought and all things are seen. Night is the quiet time for contemplation.”
They stood on the threshold of Brother Abán’s house.
Fidelma’s horse had been brought to the door. Just as Fidelma was about to mount a strange, eerie wailing sound echoed out of the valley. It rose, shrill and clear against the night sky, rose and ended abruptly, rose again and this time died away. It was like the caoine, the keening sounds that accompanied the dead.
Brother Abán crossed himself quickly.
“The Banshee!” he whispered.
Fidelma smiled.
“To each their own interpretation. I hear only the lonely cry of a wolf searching for a mate. Yet I will concede that for each act there is a consequence. Bláth conjured the Banshee to mark her crime and perhaps the Banshee is having the last word.”
She mounted her horse, raised her hand in salute and turned along the moonlit road toward Cashel.
THE HEIR-APPARENT