8- Act of Mercy by Peter Tremayne

Author:Peter Tremayne [Tremayne, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: _NB_fixed, _rt_yes, blt, Clerical Sleuth, Fiction, Historical, Mystery, Medieval Ireland
ISBN: 9780312268640
Google: G2i_OAAACAAJ
Goodreads: 379143
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

That evening, after the meal, Fidelma decided to complete her enquiries. She found Brother Dathal and Brother Adamrae in their cabin. Like the other cabins below deck, it was stuffy and airless there and the lantern which illuminated it also gave off a degree of heat as well as light. She found it stifling after the cool breezes of the deck.

‘What is it you want, Sister?’ demanded Brother Adamrae gruffly as she entered in answer to his sharp invitation when she had knocked upon the door.

‘A brief word – the answers to a few questions,’ she said politely.

‘I suppose this concerns Sister Muirgel,’ Brother Dathal muttered. ‘I heard from Sister Crella that you were following it up.’

Brother Adamrae looked at her with disfavour.

‘What business is it of yours to ask questions?’

Fidelma was not perturbed.

‘I do so at the request of the captain,’ she replied. ‘I am a—’

‘I know. You are an advocate,’ snapped Brother Adamrae. ‘This matter is no concern of ours. We did not come from the same Abbey. Anyway, ask your questions and be gone.’

Brother Dathal looked apologetically at her.

‘What Adamrae means to say is that time is precious to us. We are engaged in scholarship, you see, trying to translate some material.’

‘Time is precious to everyone,’ Fidelma agreed solemnly. ‘It is especially precious for those who have run out of time – like Sister Muirgel.’

She picked up the parchment that lay on the table before Brother Dathal. It was written in the ancient Ogham script, the earliest form of calligraphy of the language of Éireann.

‘Ceathracha is cheithre chéad …’ She began to read the ancient lettering.

Brother Dathal looked surprised.

‘Can you read the ancient Ogham letters?’

She grimaced.

‘Did not the pagan god Ogma, god of literacy and learning in primeval times, give the knowledge of such letters to the people of Muman first?’ she countered. ‘Who is able to construe the ancient letters if not a woman of Muman?’

Brother Adamrae scowled.

‘Anyone might be able to pronounce the letters, but what of the meaning of the text? Construe the words, if you are so clever.’

Fidelma pursed her lips and glanced over the ancient words. It was clearly a rhyme.

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