Read Chalice of Blood Online

Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Medieval Ireland

Chalice of Blood (29 page)

BOOK: Chalice of Blood
2.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
At first she thought there were just a few clothes in it and more building plans. Then she saw several leather bags at the bottom of the trunk. They were filled with gold and silver coins. Eadulf came to stand at her shoulder and gazed down with a soft whistle.
‘Is it his own money, do you think, or money to pay his workers?’ he asked.
‘Brother Lugna paid the workers, not Glassán. This is his own money and he acquired a tidy sum.’
She counted three leather bags and, while each could be balanced in the palm of a hand, they were heavy. Then she took out a small scroll, tied with a coloured ribbon. She untied it and smoothed it out. Eadulf could see it was written in the language of the Five Kingdoms and headed
Cendaite Glassán
.
‘Glassán’s will?’ he hazarded. The words were mostly unfamiliar, but he knew that there were three ancient words for a will.
Fidelma nodded and began to read.
‘In the presence of the Brehon Lurg of the Uí Briuin Sinna, I, Glassán, originally of the Uí Dego of Ferna, declare myself a sinner before Christ. Being a sinner and exile, I am an outcast without kith or ken, with neither wife nor children to sustain me. Should I die with only a few items to redeem me, I declare that my farm in the country of the Uí Briuin Sinna will return to the chief of that people who gave me succour in exile. I rely on him to dispose of the claims of my clients and tenants as he sees fit. I have one boy in fosterage and if I die before he reaches the age of maturity and becomes qualified, the full fees of this fosterage shall be returned to his father, as is the law. Further, I deem that he be given, out of the funds I have acquired, his father’s honour price so that he may be placed in another fosterer’s care to achieve the qualifications necessary to become a master builder. I will die truly repenting all the ills that I have done in my life, the sins that I have committed by thoughtlessness and neglect.
Ego contra erravi, ignosco mihi, quaeso!
’
Peering over her shoulder, Eadulf grunted with derision.
‘I suspect that bit of bad Latin expressing his guilt and asking for forgiveness was put in by the Brehon who drew up the will. I don’t think Glassán knew much Latin.’
‘Even so, Glassán was admitting his responsibility for his past and at least he was thoughtful enough to make provision for young Gúasach. He was not entirely a bad man.’
‘I suppose not,’ Eadulf admitted reluctantly. ‘What happens now? I mean to the young boy.’
‘The will and the boy, with these bags of money and Glassán’s belongings, will be returned to Brehon Lurg in Connachta.’
‘What are you doing here?’ The voice of Brother Lugna cut
suddenly into the chamber. They had not noticed him standing in the doorway.
Fidelma was unperturbed as she glanced up to look at him.
‘Glassán died in suspicious circumstances,’ she replied, rising to her feet. ‘It is my right to investigate anything that might cast a light on the circumstances of his death.’
‘You came here to investigate Brother Donnchad’s death, not that of Glassán,’ the steward protested.
‘As a
dálaigh
it is in my power to investigate anything I consider relevant. You should know that. The master builder’s will is here, with money and possessions that belonged to him. I shall have them sealed in this trunk and removed to my room so that, when the time comes, it will be sent back to Connachta with the boy Gúasach. The will mentions that the boy is a beneficiary.’
Brother Lugna swallowed hard. He was clearly not happy that they had beaten him to an examination of the chamber.
‘I suppose you are within your rights,’ he admitted reluctantly.
‘You may well suppose it,’ Fidelma answered acidly. She stood looking at him.
‘I came to ensure that his belongings were safe,’ muttered the steward, dropping his eyes.
‘They are safe enough.’
‘The body has been transferred to the chapel and will be watched there until midnight when the
clog-estechtae
, the death bell, will sound and the members of the community will accompany the corpse to the funeral place,’ the steward went on gruffly. ‘He was not a member of our community, nor does he have blood family among us. So only two members of the brethren will bear witness at the
aire
in the chapel. Our evening meal must serve as the
fled cro-lige
, the feast of the deathbed.’
Fidelma inclined her head. ‘We will be attending, Brother Lugna,’ she said gravely.
He hesitated, made as if to say something, and then dropped his gaze, turned and left.
‘He looks disappointed,’ murmured Eadulf. ‘Do you think …’ He gestured with his head towards the bags of coin.
‘Help me pack these things up,’ Fidelma instructed, not answering his unfinished question. ‘We’ll move them into your room.’
Eadulf frowned. ‘But you said you were putting them in your room.’
Fidelma gave one of her rare, mischievous grins. ‘I did, didn’t I? Well, just in case …’
Eadulf sighed and moved forward to help her with the trunk.
 
Two members of the community sat silently in the chapel by the corpse for the traditional watching of the body, the
aire
. The only movement was the flickering of the candles at the head and feet of the body as it lay on the wooden board that was the
fuat
, the bier, on which the corpse would soon be carried to the graveyard. The silence was unusual. There was none of the
laithina canti
, the lamentations, the clapping of hands or cries of despair that would normally mark the
aire
. Many members of the new Faith objected to these customs, which had survived from ancient times. Abbot Iarnla and Brother Lugna spent only a short time in the chapel to show their respect. Brother Donnán accompanied young Gúasach, who as foster-son was naturally expected to attend. But there was no sign of Saor or any of the builders when Fidelma and Eadulf entered to pay their respects in accordance with protocol. Gormán hovered at a discreet distance, keeping in the background.
That night, at the evening meal, the abbot made mention of the master builder in the opening prayers. As Brother Lugna had designated the evening meal the ‘feast of the deathbed’, he gave a short tribute to Glassán’s work at the abbey. No one else
came forward to praise the master builder or lament his passing. Once again, Fidelma and Eadulf, noticed that Saor and his fellow workmen did not attend. She had been expecting that Lady Eithne might have come to pay her respects as she was the moving force behind the rebuilding of the abbey.
Just before midnight, the
clog estechtae
, the death bell, was sounded, its solemn tones echoing through the abbey. The brethren gathered in the quadrangle as the corpse was carried out of the chapel on the
fuat
, wrapped in the white
racholl
, or winding sheet. Several members of the community carried lanterns, lighting the scene with an eerie, flickering half-light which caused grotesque shadows to jump this way and that.
Fidelma, Eadulf and Gormán joined them and glanced about, wondering if Saor and his builders were going to ignore the master builder’s funeral entirely. Belatedly they appeared at the gates of the abbey with Saor at their head. They seemed reluctant as they lined up behind the bier, carried by four of the brethren. Abbot Iarnla took his place at the head of the procession. In spite of the tensions they had observed among the brethren, they found most of the leading members of the community were there. Brother Lugna, Brother Seachlann, Brother Donnán. Brother Máel Eoin, Brother Echen and even the smith Brother Giolla-na-Naomh were in attendance.
Abbot Iarnla held up his staff of office and turned towards them. He raised his voice to call the traditional instruction: ‘The
fé
has been measured, we will proceed.’
The
fé
was a measuring rod for a grave. It was regarded almost with horror by ordinary folk and only the gravedigger was allowed to touch it, for it was thought to bring bad luck and death to others.
The procession moved off with the brethren chanting.
Hymnum dicat turba fratrum
Hymnum cantus personet
…
 
Band of brethren, raise the hymn,
Let your song the hymn resound …
The procession guided by those holding high their lanterns, made its way through the abbey gates and turned towards the eastern side of the buildings where the graveyard of the abbey lay between rows of towering yew trees. The gravediggers stood awaiting them. As the voices of the brethren died away with the final verse, they gathered round the hole that had been dug in the ground and lined in the traditional fashion with branches of broom. The
fuat
was lowered and tipped, and the body slid into the grave. Then one of the gravediggers came forward and smashed the wooden bier and tossed the pieces into the grave. Once a
fuat
had carried a body to the grave, it could not be used again. Then the gravediggers threw in what was called the
strophaiss
, the birch branches that always covered the body before the grave was filled.
There was an expectant silence as the gravediggers stood back. Abbot Iarnla looked round, trying to pick out Saor and his comrades in the semi-darkness.
‘Who among you will come forward to speak a few words in honour of Glassán the master builder?’ he asked. ‘Who will sing the
écnaire
, the song for intercession for the repose of Glassán’s soul?’
There was a shuffling among them but no one spoke. No one came forward.
It was Brother Lugna who said coldly, ‘All that should be said was said at the
fled cro-lige
. Let us proceed.’
Abbot Iarnla waited a few moments more and then uttered an audible sigh. He raised his voice. ‘This is Glassán, sometime
master builder of the abbey of Lios Mór. His work will be his memorial for as long as this abbey stands. May he be granted eternal peace.’ The abbot gave the sign of the Cross and turned to the gravediggers. At his gesture they began to fill in the grave. The brethren waited a moment or two before beginning to move away, back to the abbey, in ones and twos.
Eadulf found his arm gripped by Fidelma.
‘Let’s pause awhile,’ she said softly. ‘Let’s stand in the shelter of those yews behind us.’ She turned to Gormán. ‘I need you to go back to the abbey, don’t do it discreetly. Go to the guesthouse as if you had accompanied us there.’
Gormán was quick to realise what she wanted.
Eadulf followed Fidelma into the darkness of the yew trees without anyone apparently noticing them.
They silently watched the burly gravediggers fill in the grave. They worked rapidly and soon finished their task. Obviously the men had no wish to hang about the cemetery longer than was necessary. Then they were gone.
‘Well, that’s that.’ Eadulf turned to Fidelma. ‘There’s nothing else to see here and—’
He winced as Fidelma struck him on the arm. He was about to protest when a dark shadow emerged in the gloom. The figure was not carrying a lantern, relying on the moonlight that lit the graveyard. It approached the freshly filled grave and stood before it.
There came a chuckle from the figure. It was a chilling sound.
‘Well, Glassán, at last. If you can hear me in the Otherworld, go with the memory that we are finally avenged. Those to whom you did wrong may now finally rest …’
They could not see the man’s face. Eadulf moved forward with the intention of seizing him and tripped over a root. He went sprawling. Stunned on the wet ground for a moment, he heard Fidelma call on the figure to halt. By the time he picked himself
up, the figure had disappeared. Fidelma had given up the chase after a few steps and was returning to him.
Eadulf rose mumbling an apology for his clumsiness. ‘Did you see who it was?’
‘I did not,’ she replied, her voice tight with annoyance. ‘I did not even recognise his voice.’ Then she added, ‘Are you hurt?’
Eadulf shook his head and then realised it was a futile gesture in the dark. ‘I’m all right,’ he said. I’m sorry, a root—’
‘I know,’ she said shortly. ‘We will have to find some other means of identifying the killer. Come on, let’s get back to the abbey before the moon disappears behind the clouds. I don’t have a lantern.’
‘At least we know our killer is a man,’ Eadulf said and then realised it was a silly thing to say.
‘Then we have a wide choice of suspects,’ Fidelma said wryly. There was no bitterness in her voice.
A tall shadow emerged from the walls of the abbey. Then a lantern glinted. For a moment they held their breath, only to realise that it was Gormán.
‘Are you all right, lady?’ he asked anxiously, holding the lantern high.
‘We are so,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Has anyone just come back into the abbey?’
To her disappointment he replied in the negative.
‘No one has come this way and Brother Echen has just closed the gates for the night. So I thought I would come to meet you and guide you in by another way.’
BOOK: Chalice of Blood
2.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Return to Skull Island by Ron Miller, Darrell Funk
Dawn of a New Day by Mariano, Nick
Mindbenders by Ted Krever
Effortless by Lynn Montagano
Infinite Reef by Karl Kofoed