Whispers of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A

surprise.
    “Then tell them who it was, you stupid man!” yelled Corbnait at her unfortunate spouse.
    “It was young Finn,” explained Echen, hurt by the rebuke he had received. “He herds sheep on Slieve Nuada, just a mile from here.”
    “Ah, a strange one that!” Corbnait said, as if all was explained to her satisfaction. “Both his parents died three years ago. He’s been a recluse ever since. Unnatural, I call it.”
    Fidelma looked from Corbnait to Echen and then said, “I want one of you to ride to the abbey and look at the corpse so we can be absolutely sure that this was the girl who visited here. It is important that we are sure of her identity.”
    “Echen can do it. I am busy,” grumbled Corbnait.
    “Then I want directions to where this shepherd Finn dwells.”
    “Slieve Nuada is that large hill you can see from here,” Abbot Laisran intervened. “I know the place, and I know the boy.”
    It was not long before they arrived at the shepherd’s dwelling next to a traditional
lias cairach
or sheep’s hut. The sheep milled about over the hill indifferent to the arrival of strangers. Fidelma noticed that their white fleeces were marked with the blue dyed circle that identified the flock and prevented them from mixing into neighboring flocks during common grazing.
    Finn was weathered and bronzed—a handsome youth with a shock of red hair. He was kneeling on the grass astride a sheep whose stomach seemed vastly extended, almost as if it were pregnant but unnaturally so. As they rode up they saw the youth jab a long, thin, needle-like
biorracha
into the sheep’s belly. There was a curious hiss of air and the swelling seemed to go down without harm to the sheep which, when released, staggered away, bleating in irritation.
    The youth look up and recognized Abbot Laisran. He put the
biorracha
aside and came forward with a smile of welcome.
    “Abbot Laisran. I have not seen you since my father’s funeral.”
    They dismounted and tethered their horses.
    “You seem to have a problem on your hands,” Abbot Laisran said, indicating the now transformed sheep.
    “Some of them get to eating plants that they should not. It causes gas and makes the belly swell like a bag filled with air. You prick them with the needle and the gas escapes. It is simple and does not hurt the creature. Have you come to buy sheep for the abbey?”
    “I am afraid we are here on sad business,” Laisran said. “This is Sister Fidelma. She is a
dálaigh.
”
    The youth frowned.
    “I do not understand.”
    “Two days ago you met a girl on the road from the inn at Ballacolla.”
    Finn nodded immediately.
    “That is true.”
    “What made you accost her?”
    “Accost? I do not understand.”
    “You were driving in a donkey cart?”
    “I was.”
    “She was on horseback?”
    “She was. A black mare.”
    “So what made you speak to her?”
    “It was Segnat from Tir Bui. I used to go to her father’s fortress with my father, peace on his soul. I knew her.”
    Fidelma concealed her surprise.
    “You knew her?”
    “Her father was chieftain of Tir Bui.”
    “What was your father’s business in Tir Bui? It is a long journey from here.”
    “My father used to raise the old horned variety of sheep which is now a dying breed. He was a
treudaighe
and proud of it. He kept a fine stock.”
    The
treudaighe
was a shepherd of rank.
    “I see. So you knew Segnat?”
    “I was surprised to see her on the road. She told me she was on her way to join her husband, Conri, the new lord of Ballyconra.”
    Finn’s voice betrayed a curious emotion which Fidelma picked up on.
    “You do not like Conri?”
    “I do not have the right to like or dislike such as he,” admitted Finn.
    “I was merely surprised to hear that Segnat had married him when he is living with a woman already.”
    “That is a choice for the individual,” Fidelma reproved. “The New Faith has not entirely driven the old forms of polygyny from our people. A man can have