Free The Subtle Serpent by Peter Tremayne

lather against her body while Sister Brónach gathered her discarded dirty clothes and placed them into the bronze container.
    ‘So,’ Fidelma began, as she luxuriated in the foam of the perfumed soap, ‘you were saying that you and Sister Síomha found the body?’
    ‘That is so, sister.’
    ‘And who is Sister Siomha?’
    ‘She is the steward of the abbey, the rechtaire or, as some of the largest abbeys in this land call it by the Latin term, the dispensator.’
    ‘Tell me when and how you found the body?’
    ‘The sisters were at midday prayers and the gong sounded the start of the third cadar of the day.’
    The third quarter of the day began at noon.
    ‘My task at that time was to ensure the abbess’s personal bath-tub was filled ready. She prefers to bathe at that time. The water is drawn from the main well.’
    Fidelma lay back in the tub.
    ‘Main well?’ she frowned slightly. ‘There is more than one well here?’
    Brónach nodded gloomily.
    ‘Are we not the community of Eo na dTri dTobar?’ she asked.
    ‘The Salmon of the Three Wells,’ repeated Fidelma,
inquisitively. ‘Yet this is but a metaphor by which the Christ is named.’
    ‘Even so, sister, there are three wells at this spot. The holy well of the Blessed Necht, who founded this community, and two smaller springs that lie in the woods behind the abbey. At the moment, all water is brought from the springs in the wood, for the Abbess Draigen has not fully performed the purification rituals for the main well.’
    Fidelma was at least happy to learn that, for she had a horror of drinking water in which the headless corpse had reposed.
    ‘So you went out to draw water from the well?’
    ‘I did but could not easily work the winding mechanism. It was hard to turn. Later I realised that it was the weight of the body. As I was trying my best to wind up the pail of water, Sister Síomha came out to rebuke me for my tardiness. I do not think that she believed that I was having difficulty.’
    ‘Why was that?’ asked Fidelma from the tub.
    The middle-aged nun ceased stirring the cauldron with Fidelma’s clothes in it and reflected.
    ‘She said that she had recently drawn water from the well and there was nothing wrong with the mechanism.’
    ‘Had anyone else used the well that morning — either before Sister Síomha or before the time that you went to draw water there?’
    ‘No, I do not think so. There was no need to draw fresh water until midday.’
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘Well, we both hauled away at the mechanism until the corpse appeared.’
    ‘You were both shocked, of course?’
    ‘Of course. The thing was without a head. We were afraid.’
    ‘Did you notice anything else about the corpse?’
    ‘The crucifix? Yes. And, of course, the aspen wand.’
    ‘The aspen wand?’

    ‘Tied on the left forearm was a stick of aspen wood on which Ogham characters were cut.’
    ‘And what did you make of it?’
    ‘Make of it?’
    ‘What did the characters say? You clearly recognised what it was.’
    Brónach shrugged eloquently.
    ‘Alas, I can recognise Ogham characters when I see them written, sister, but I have no knowledge of their meaning.’
    ‘Did Sister Síomha read it?’
    Brónach shook her head and lifted the bronze vessel from the fire, removing the items of clothing with a stick and putting them into a tub of cold water.
    ‘So neither of you were able to read the Ogham or recognise its purpose?’
    ‘I told the abbess at the time that I thought it was some pagan symbol. Didn’t the old ones tie twigs on a corpse to protect against the vengeful souls of the dead?’
    Fidelma stared carefully at the middle-aged sister but she had her back turned as she bent to her task beating the clothes to take the water out of them.
    ‘I have not heard that, Sister Brónach. What was the abbess’s response to your idea?’
    ‘Abbess Draigen keeps her own counsel.’
    Was there an angry tone to her voice?
    Fidelma rose from the tub and reached