The Devil's Seal by Peter Tremayne Page B

Cill Náile a few days ago to see Abbess Líoch, had she ever seen him before?’
    Sister Dianaimh’s chin came up defiantly. ‘You should ask the abbess that question.’
    ‘You see,’ went on Fidelma, ignoring her reply, ‘I have to ask questions when someone has been killed. You will recall that I rode with you into Cashel, having met you on the highway . . .’
    ‘Riding with your son and a warrior,’ the girl nodded. ‘I remember.’
    ‘And I left you and the abbess riding into the township to find lodgings while we went on to the palace here. Then you changed your minds, left your horses at the bottom of the hill and came up here on foot. I find that strange.’
    ‘The abbess suddenly realised that she should let Abbot Ségdae know that we had arrived in the township. However, we thought the horses were tired – my horse was developing a limp – so we left them in the care of a boy and walked up the hill to the palace.’
    ‘You did not find Abbot Ségdae.’ It was a statement rather than a question.
    ‘The abbess has already told you that we did not,’ replied the
bann-mhaor
suspiciously.
    ‘So where did you search for him?’
    For the first time Sister Dianaith looked uncertain. ‘I did not. I remained at the gate while the abbess went to find him.’
    ‘Did she ask the guard at the gates where he might be found?’ prompted Fidelma.
    ‘I cannot remember – I presume so.’
    ‘So the abbess went to look while you remained at the gate; was that by the gate or in the courtyard?’
    ‘Just inside the gate. The abbess was not gone very long. She found a member of the brethren, an old man, who told her that the abbot was with the King. So she decided that we should continue to look for lodgings in the township. We had barely returned to our horses and set off when you and the Saxon, your husband, overtook us. And now, if that is all . . .?’
    ‘A moment more.’ Fidelma held up a hand. ‘You said you remained inside the gate?’
    ‘I did,’ the girl replied impatiently.
    ‘In that case, you could see across the main courtyard to the side of the chapel that faces it. Did anyone cross that courtyard while you were there?’
    ‘A few people, as would be expected.’
    ‘Such as? Describe them.’
    Sister Dianaimh made a gesture with her shoulder as if dismissing the question. ‘I would not know them. The
echaire
– that is, the stable-master, two warriors . . . oh, and a religieux.’
    ‘A religieux? What did he look like?’
    ‘He had his hood over his head. Even if he had been uncovered, I would not have recognised him. I have not been here before. Now, can I go?’
    Fidelma nodded thoughtfully as the girl moved past and entered the library. She waited a few moments before pulling her cloak tightly around her and going out into the still driving rain, hurrying towards the smaller courtyard at the back of the chapel where, in a corner, Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary was situated.
    She entered the apothecary with its almost overpowering aromas that arose from the countless dried plants and herbs that hung from the ceiling or grew in pots on benches that crowded inside. Old Brother Conchobhar was bent over a bench at the far end, busily mixing a paste with a mortar in a pestle. He looked up as she entered and laid the work aside.
    ‘I was expecting you,’ he greeted her. His expression was serious.
    ‘You were?’ she frowned.
    ‘I thought you would come to see me about Deogaire’s outlandish behaviour last night.’
    ‘Ah, that. Yes, it was extraordinary,’ Fidelma admitted. ‘But that was not my main purpose.’
    ‘Then how can I help?’ The old man was surprised.
    ‘I was told Abbess Líoch might have been about here early yesterday. It was before Eadulf found the body of Brother Cerdic. I just wondered if you saw her then.’
    Brother Conchobhar rubbed the side of his temple, as if it aided his memory. ‘Yes, I saw her and she was enquiring for Abbot Ségdae,’ he