who roused the people to that action. Brocc had already lost his own niece to this evil.’
Becc intervened. ‘It is true that Sirin was not among those who threatened the abbey. He and Berrach were certainly not there.’
Fidelma nodded but continued to address herself to Sirin.
‘Do you believe that the strangers at the abbey could have done this?’
Sirin looked blank. ‘I do not know. Many claim that they did. I have yet to see proof of Brocc’s assertions.’
‘Did your cousin share his suspicions with you?’
‘He does not like the strangers because they are strangers.’
‘You do not appear to share that view,’ she observed.
‘I want the guilty punished, but let us first know that they are guilty,’ replied the man.
‘Do you suspect them or anyone else? Do you have any thoughts as to why Ballgel was killed?’
Sirin screwed up his face in a negative gesture. ‘I believe only some beast or madman could have done this terrible thing. I can offer you nothing else. But I tell you this, Sister: once I know who is guilty it is vengeance that I want in return. Do not tell me about justice. I am of the Faith and did not Paul of Tarsus write to the Galatians that whatsoever a man sows, that shall he also reap? Whoever has done this terrible deed has planted a thorn in my heart. He must not expect to pluck a rose from it.’
Fidelma was sympathetic but returned his look with disapproval. ‘Blood will not wash out blood, Sirin.’
‘Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot…’
Fidelma sighed. ‘Very well, Sirin.’
The man was about to turn away, realising that she had finished her questions, when Eadulf suddenly leant forward.
‘You say that Brocc is your cousin, Sirin. Are you also related to Adag?’
Sirin thrust out his lower lip in a sullen expression.
‘I am not,’ he snapped. ‘May I go now?’
‘You may return to your kitchen,’ Fidelma assured him in some amusement. It was true that the steward and the cook might be taken for brothers, for they did look alike.
When Sirin had gone, Fidelma turned to Becc with a sad smile.
‘Heraclitus said that it is difficult to fight against anger, for a man will buy revenge with his soul. It seems that Brocc is not the only one out for vengeance at this place, Becc.’
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Fidelma turned to the steward who had been waiting patiently by the door.
‘I am told that the abbot was the first to leave the feasting on the night of which we are talking. What time did the abbot depart from the fortress?’ she asked.
Adag frowned and glanced to his chieftain as if in unspoken question.
Fidelma exhaled in exasperation. ‘Adag, mark me well. When I ask you a question, you do not have to seek permission of Becc or anyone else before you answer me. If you do not respect the fact that I am a dálaigh , although you should obey the law, then respect the fact that I am sister to your king who sits at Cashel. Even your chieftain, Becc, my cousin, defers to me in this matter.’
Becc looked embarrassed.
‘I apologise for my steward, Fidelma. He has a quaint idea of loyalty,’ he said, before turning with a glance of wrath at the man. ‘You will obey my cousin, Fidelma, with the same alacrity as you obey me, Adag, otherwise I shall be looking for a new steward.’
The steward flushed and gave a nervous grimace.
‘What was your question, lady?’ he asked in an apologetic tone.
‘I asked, at what time did the abbot depart from the fortress on the night Ballgel was killed?’
‘A little after midnight, I think,’ he answered.
‘And was that before or after Ballgel left?’
He stared at her in surprise and hesitated before replying. ‘The abbot left afterwards, I think.’
‘You think?’ Fidelma’s voice was sharp. ‘Is there anyone else who would know exactly?’
Adag coloured in annoyance. ‘I was at the gate and bade good night to Ballgel. She left before the abbot. I am sure of
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