It is to be persuaded without final proof. That is not the task of a dálaigh , Brother Buite of Magh Ghlas. One seeks out truth through fact and not through opinion.’
Brother Buite flushed a little. Eadulf at once felt contrite, and hurried into speech.
‘We are following all leads, however obscure and faint, and hope that somewhere along the way they will turn into those facts that we are looking for. We have questions that this Forindain can answer, that is all. Thank you for being so helpful.’
He smiled reassuringly at him and Brother Buite returned the smile before Brother Madagan ushered him from the chamber. Eadulf turned to Fidelma.
‘Well, at least we know that the dwarf Forindain is not the so-called child seen by Caol, the guard at the palace,’ he said emphatically.
Fidelma raised an eyebrow in query.
‘How so?’
‘Because Forindain had the power of speech, even though Brother Buite claims he spoke strangely, with a lisp. The child who came to the palace was mute. Caol said so.’
‘And how did Caol know?’
Eadulf was impatient, not understanding her point.
‘Because the child produced a note which said it could not speak?’ Fidelma went on. ‘And we must believe this because a note was produced? Belief is not fact, as I have just told Brother Buite.’
Eadulf considered the point. ‘Do you have reason to believe that the child was lying to Caol?’
She shook her head. ‘If the child or the dwarf were part of a plot to kill Sárait or abduct our baby, of course it would be lying. Anyway, nothing should ever be accepted on face value without checking. That is the rule of the Brehon.’
‘An axiom of Brehon Morann?’ replied Eadulf, a little sharply. ‘I know. Well, that does not get us anywhere. This leper has disappeared taking the western road. He might be anywhere now. He might or might nothave been the person who delivered the note to Sárait and even if he did he might or might not have been involved in the murder and kidnapping. There are too many ifs and buts. Where do we go from here?’
There was a dry cough from the shadows. They had forgotten Brother Madagan.
‘If I might make a suggestion…?’ The steward came forward smiling. ‘I think your first priority is to refresh yourselves and, as the sky is darkening, to spend the night here before you travel on.’
Fidelma smiled tiredly.
‘A good idea, Brother Madagan. We are too tired to think logically tonight. We will seek refreshment in food and contemplation.’
Brother Madagan turned towards the door.
‘I will order a chamber to be prepared for you,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Your warrior companions can sleep in the guests’ dormitory. Would you like to wash? It will not be long before the bell sounds for the evening meal.’ At the door, he hesitated and turned back. ‘I could not help but hear that you were interested in a dwarf.’
‘A particular dwarf,’ Fidelma said sharply. ‘Why?’
Brother Madagan made a gesture with his shoulder that was not quite a shrug.
‘Only that there was a group of drúth passing through the town a few days ago and there were dwarfs among them.’
‘Drui?’ queried Eadulf, not quite hearing the pronunciation and thinking the steward had mentioned druids.
Brother Madagan shook his head and corrected him.
‘No, drúth - jesters, jugglers and gleemen. Those who travel the country to entertain and amuse with music, songs, stories and acrobatics.’
‘When did they pass through here?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Before or after the pilgrims arrived?’
‘Oh, the day before, I think. They entertained in the town for one night and then moved on. One of our brethren attended the entertainment and told me that they played the story of Bebo and Iubdán, which seemed much suited to their talents.’
‘It would be a good choice of story,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘But the little person whom we seek was, according to accounts, a leper and a religieux.’
Brother Madagan
Brother Buite flushed a little. Eadulf at once felt contrite, and hurried into speech.
‘We are following all leads, however obscure and faint, and hope that somewhere along the way they will turn into those facts that we are looking for. We have questions that this Forindain can answer, that is all. Thank you for being so helpful.’
He smiled reassuringly at him and Brother Buite returned the smile before Brother Madagan ushered him from the chamber. Eadulf turned to Fidelma.
‘Well, at least we know that the dwarf Forindain is not the so-called child seen by Caol, the guard at the palace,’ he said emphatically.
Fidelma raised an eyebrow in query.
‘How so?’
‘Because Forindain had the power of speech, even though Brother Buite claims he spoke strangely, with a lisp. The child who came to the palace was mute. Caol said so.’
‘And how did Caol know?’
Eadulf was impatient, not understanding her point.
‘Because the child produced a note which said it could not speak?’ Fidelma went on. ‘And we must believe this because a note was produced? Belief is not fact, as I have just told Brother Buite.’
Eadulf considered the point. ‘Do you have reason to believe that the child was lying to Caol?’
She shook her head. ‘If the child or the dwarf were part of a plot to kill Sárait or abduct our baby, of course it would be lying. Anyway, nothing should ever be accepted on face value without checking. That is the rule of the Brehon.’
‘An axiom of Brehon Morann?’ replied Eadulf, a little sharply. ‘I know. Well, that does not get us anywhere. This leper has disappeared taking the western road. He might be anywhere now. He might or might nothave been the person who delivered the note to Sárait and even if he did he might or might not have been involved in the murder and kidnapping. There are too many ifs and buts. Where do we go from here?’
There was a dry cough from the shadows. They had forgotten Brother Madagan.
‘If I might make a suggestion…?’ The steward came forward smiling. ‘I think your first priority is to refresh yourselves and, as the sky is darkening, to spend the night here before you travel on.’
Fidelma smiled tiredly.
‘A good idea, Brother Madagan. We are too tired to think logically tonight. We will seek refreshment in food and contemplation.’
Brother Madagan turned towards the door.
‘I will order a chamber to be prepared for you,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Your warrior companions can sleep in the guests’ dormitory. Would you like to wash? It will not be long before the bell sounds for the evening meal.’ At the door, he hesitated and turned back. ‘I could not help but hear that you were interested in a dwarf.’
‘A particular dwarf,’ Fidelma said sharply. ‘Why?’
Brother Madagan made a gesture with his shoulder that was not quite a shrug.
‘Only that there was a group of drúth passing through the town a few days ago and there were dwarfs among them.’
‘Drui?’ queried Eadulf, not quite hearing the pronunciation and thinking the steward had mentioned druids.
Brother Madagan shook his head and corrected him.
‘No, drúth - jesters, jugglers and gleemen. Those who travel the country to entertain and amuse with music, songs, stories and acrobatics.’
‘When did they pass through here?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Before or after the pilgrims arrived?’
‘Oh, the day before, I think. They entertained in the town for one night and then moved on. One of our brethren attended the entertainment and told me that they played the story of Bebo and Iubdán, which seemed much suited to their talents.’
‘It would be a good choice of story,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘But the little person whom we seek was, according to accounts, a leper and a religieux.’
Brother Madagan
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