Free Master of Souls by Peter Tremayne

well. How long have you been rechtaire of the abbey?’
    ‘Less than a year.’ The words seemed to be an admission of some guilty secret.
    ‘That is not long,’ Fidelma observed gently. ‘And before you became steward?’
    ‘I was a scribe.’ Now the words were defensive and the young man had coloured again.
    ‘I see. Did you work for Cinaed in the library? Were you his copyist?’
    Brother Cú Mara hesitated.
    ‘Brother Faolchair, the assistant librarian, always copied the Venerable Cináed’s works. I was only promoted to being a scribe when the Venerable Mac Faosma came to the abbey. I worked under his direction.’
    There was a brief silence.
    ‘So? Are you one of the supporters of the Venerable Mac Faosma?’
    Brother Cú Mara raised his chin defensively.
    ‘As steward I am above such things …’
    ‘But during the time the Venerable Mac Faosma was your superior, you being his scribe, you must have had some sympathy with his ideas?’ pressed Fidelma quickly.
    The young man raised his hands helplessly.
    ‘I … I was impressed by what the Venerable Mac Faosma had to say. I’ll not deny that.’
    ‘Did you ever enter the arguments … the debates, that is … between Mac Faosma and Cinaed?’
    ‘I attended them, that is all. And, no, I did not harbour any angry thoughts, towards the Venerable Cinaed, that is. We are all entitled to our opinions but in the end truth will always prevail without our help.’

    Fidelma smiled quickly.
    ‘So, other than your inwardly held beliefs that Cinaed was wrong in his outlook and teachings … ?’
    ‘I harboured no ill will towards him.’
    ‘And as rechtaire do you declare your stand, that you favour the new ideas of Rome?’
    ‘I do not!’ The words came indignantly. ‘As steward, holding a high office in the abbey, my beliefs should not be an influence on the others …’ He paused a moment, his lips pressed tightly together.
    ‘So where do you stand on this matter of celibacy?’
    The young man flushed.
    ‘As I said, I am the steward of the abbey. I have to be independent.’
    ‘That is a hard thing to be on such a matter,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘Did the Venerable Cinaed know your views? Your real views?’
    ‘I told you, I keep my views to myself. They are no concern of others. However, if you must know, I support Abbot Erc. That doesn’t mean that I killed Cinaed, if that is what you are implying.’
    The young man had risen to his feet but Fidelma regarded him with a mild smile.
    ‘You wear your temper on the sleeve of your robe, Brother Cú Mara. I have not imputed anything but have simply asked you some questions. It is my task as a dálaigh to ask questions and it is your obligation to answer them. Now, be seated and calm yourself.’
    Brother Cú Mara stood undecided for a moment or two and then he shrugged and sat down again.
    ‘Excellent,’ she approved. ‘Now tell me, when did you first learn of the death of the Venerable Cinaed?’
    ‘When?’ The young man frowned. ‘It is now four days ago. It was before dawn. I had arisen and washed and was about to go to the chapel to attend the service for the Blessed Íte, which we hold on her feast day. She it was who—’
    Fidelma interrupted impatiently. ‘I know who Íte was. Go on.’
    ‘I was on my way there when one of the community came rushing up saying that he had heard shouting from the oratory.’
    ‘Shouting? As in an argument?’
    ‘Someone crying for help. It turned out to be the abbot, for I went there without delay and found the abbot in great distress. He had discovered the body of the Venerable Cinaed lying behind the altar and the rest you know.
I helped carry the body to the physician. We then learnt that the old man had been murdered and the method - a blow on the back of the skull. The body was laid out and waked for the required day and night and then at midnight on the next day we buried Cinaed in the graveyard behind the abbey.’
    ‘I see. As rechtaire, what