The Council of the Cursed (13 page)

‘Of course, that would be it. Well, it is chilly here. Let me pass and return to my interrupted sleep.’

The young man hesitated and then stood aside.

‘May your sleep not be troubled further, Brother.’

Eadulf could not help but wonder if the steward was being sarcastic.

‘And may you also have some rest this night,’ he replied stiffly. Hurrying back to the
hospitia
, he found Fidelma awaiting his return with some impatience.

‘Did you discover anything?’ she demanded.

‘I did not, but I was myself discovered,’ he replied, throwing off his robe and collapsing on the bed. He told her of his encounter with Brother Chilperic before describing what he had seen.

She was thoughtful for a while but not concerned about the steward of the abbey.

‘If Brother Gillucán heard anything untoward while he was sitting in the
necessarium
, it most likely came from the water channel that takes the effluence from the
necessarium
out to wherever it flows.’

Eadulf had his eyes shut. ‘I suppose so,’ he muttered sleepily.

‘It is possible that sounds echo along the water channel,’ went on Fidelma.

‘Possible,’ yawned Eadulf again.

‘And the wall there…you say that it borders on to the women’s house of the abbey?’

Eadulf let out a faint snore. He was asleep.

Fidelma frowned in annoyance. Then she smiled softly at his sleeping form and, reaching over, blew out the candle.

Eadulf felt he had barely fallen asleep when the sunlight streaming in through the window caught his face and caused him to blink. Fidelma had already washed and was sitting breaking her fast with some fruit.

‘Come, get ready. I let you sleep through morning prayers and there is much to be done today,’ she called, seeing he was awake.

He rolled out of bed still feeling exhausted.

‘Can’t we do it later?’ he protested.

‘We cannot.’

They were walking down the stairs to the
anticum
of the abbey when Brother Chilperic appeared, hurrying up the stairs, his forehead wrinkled into a frown. He came to an abrupt halt and gave Eadulf a close scrutiny.

‘I am looking for Abbot Ségdae,’ he said. ‘Is he still in the
hospitia
? Have you seen him?’

‘We have not,’ replied Fidelma. ‘You look agitated, Brother. Is something wrong?’

The steward shrugged. ‘I simply needed to report a matter to him now that he is the senior delegate from your country.’

Fidelma was intrigued. ‘Is there anything I can help with?’

‘Alas, no. You probably knew Brother Gillucán, who was the companion of Abbot Dabhóc. He intended to set out to return to his home this morning.’

Fidelma nearly made the mistake of admitting knowledge but, remembering what Brother Gillucán had asked, that she should say nothing, she simply asked, ‘Does he need some assistance, then?’

‘No longer.’

A cold feeling suddenly seized Fidelma. ‘No longer? Please explain,’ she asked.

‘It seems that he set out alone in the early hours without informing anyone. He was found floating in the Aturavos…that’s the river that runs to the north side of the city. It looks as though he was attacked by robbers, for they stripped him naked. He should have waited to return with a group of pilgrims who were setting out later today.’

‘Are you sure he left the abbey on his homeward journey?’ Fidelma could not help asking the question.

‘What else would he be doing, outside the abbey at that time? Also, when I heard, I went to his chamber to check. All his belongings were gone. The conclusion is obvious.’

‘And you say he was travelling alone?’ asked Fidelma, remembering that Brother Gillucán had told her that he was going to travel in company that day.

Brother Chilperic nodded moodily. ‘His body was found alone. No one else was with him. Again, the conclusion is obvious. To travel alone is unwise in these troubled times,’ he commented. ‘They left him with nothing and cut his throat.’

‘No one saw anything?’ queried Eadulf.

‘The river is, as you must have seen, outside the city walls,’ the man
said. ‘It is wrong to leave the city at night. Indeed, wrong to leave the abbey at night.’

‘Are you certain that is what happened?’ Fidelma pressed. ‘That he left the abbey at night to set off on his homeward journey? You have guards at the city gates. Did they see him go?’

‘He left the abbey before dawn. No one saw him,’ Brother Chilperic replied impatiently. ‘The body was discovered by a fisherman a little down-river not long after sun-up.’

‘If we see Abbot Ségdae, we will inform him of this tragedy and say that you are looking for him,’ Fidelma said, realising they were showing too much interest. ‘In the meantime, can you tell us which of the rooms Abbot Dabhóc occupied?’

‘It is empty,’ replied the steward, his mind clearly elsewhere. ‘There is nothing there now.’

‘But where is it located?’

‘It is back in the
hospitia
, in the same corridor as Bishop Ordgar’s chamber–the third along from where he is.’

She thanked him but Brother Chilperic was already on his way. Once out of the steward’s earshot Fidelma spoke her thoughts.

‘Brother Gillucán feared for his life and now he is dead,’ she said quietly.

‘Do you think there is some connection with the death of Abbot Dabhóc?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Let’s keep an open mind. You noticed the look that Brother Chilperic cast in your direction?’

‘He is probably still suspicious at finding me in the
necessarium
, especially as it was probably near the hour when this Brother Gillucán was making his way out of the abbey. But I thought Gillucán said he was joining a group of pilgrims for the journey?’

‘He did. We’d best keep our own counsel on this, Eadulf,’ Fidelma replied, keeping her voice low, ‘until we find out whether it is in some way connected with the matter here or just a coincidence, There is no use putting ourselves in harm’s way. If Gillucán felt fearful enough to leave the abbey before dawn on his own, then the very thing he feared befell him.’

‘But why? I cannot see any logic in this matter.’

‘Perhaps there is something more to the killing of Abbot Dabhóc, and now his steward, than merely the argument between Ordgar and Cadfan. What was it that those who ransacked Dabhóc’s chamber were looking for–the reliquary box? If so, why didn’t they find it? Who has it? And was this what Gillucán was being asked about when his room was searched? There are too many questions, Eadulf. Too many questions and not enough facts.’

‘For once, I agree,’ Eadulf said. ‘So where do we turn next? Should we see what else we can find out about Brother Gillucán’s death?’

‘Not at the moment. If it is connected with Dabhóc’s death then we do not want to alert our adversary that we suspect anything.’

‘So what now?’

‘Let us have a brief glance at the chamber occupied by Abbot Dabhóc before we return to our initial plan to speak with Abbess Audofleda. Now we know that Dabhóc did not have far to go to meet his death. His room was in the same corridor as Ordgar’s room.’

The chamber that had been occupied by Abbot Dabhóc was empty and had been cleaned thoroughly. There was certainly nowhere to hide such an object as a reliquary box. Fidelma gazed around.

‘Well, this room is not going to tell us anything,’ she sighed.

There was a hollow cough behind them at the doorway. The saturnine figure of Brother Benevolentia stood regarding them,

‘Were you looking for me?’ he asked. ‘My chamber is just along here.’

Fidelma turned to greet him. ‘As a matter of fact, no. We were looking at the chamber Abbot Dabhóc occupied.’

‘Is there anything I can help with?’

‘We were told that this chamber was ransacked on that same night as he was killed. I don’t suppose you heard anything?’

‘As I mentioned before, I did not hear even what was happening in poor Bishop Ordgar’s chamber, since I sleep so very soundly. I knew nothing until Bishop Leodegar and his steward roused me,’ Brother Benevolentia said.

‘Do you know Abbot Dabhóc’s steward?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Benevolentia shook his head.

‘So you have no idea where his chamber is located?’

‘I do not know him but his chamber is on the left, down that corridor,’ he indicated. ‘The first door you come to. I don’t think he is there right now, although I saw Brother Chilperic leave it earlier. Have you knocked upon his door?’

‘No, he is—’ began Eadulf, then fell silent with a glance from Fidelma.

‘No, you are right. He is not there,’ she added. ‘But if his chamber was there, then you must surely have known him?’

‘Ah, I see what you mean. The word you used implied that he was a person I knew well. He was familiar to me only as one of the foreign delegation, and I certainly did not know him, other than to exchange a courteous greeting when passing.’

‘Then thank you for your help, Brother Benevolentia.’

The religieux nodded to them and retired into his own chamber.

Fidelma moved to the chamber that he had indicated and opened the door. It had been left tidy, the blanket folded on the bed. As Brother Chilperic had said, it was empty but with no sign of a hurried departure. It would reveal nothing more than the abbot’s chamber had revealed.

Behind her, Eadulf remarked: ‘A bit of a pedantic character.’

Fidelma shrugged absently. ‘Who–Benevolentia? Perhaps he is right. Language should be used precisely, especially in legal matters.’ She gestured to the tiny room before her. ‘This won’t tell us much, either.’ She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

‘At least we now know the location of these chambers,’ she observed, as she led the way back down to the main hall of the abbey.

‘Is that important?’ asked Eadulf.

‘It is always good to know the precise layout of where the crime is committed and the surrounding area. Have you noticed that Abbot Cadfan’s chamber was the furthest away from Ordgar’s chamber and along another corridor? Everyone else was in the same corridor or adjacent, like Gillucán.’

Eadulf supposed that he had registered the fact but could not see that there was any relevance.

‘As I say, it is good to know the layout,’ she repeated.

They were crossing the
anticum
, having ascertained that the only way to gain entrance to the
Domus Femini
was to leave the main door and walk along the north side of the square, then go up the wagonway into
the central courtyard. The main door to the women’s community was on the far side of this courtyard.

A voice suddenly called Fidelma’s name and they saw a figure hurrying towards them across the marble flagged hallway. It was a tall, dark man with a pale olive complexion, wearing the robes and tonsure of Rome, and his attire was not of some poor cleric but someone of rank.

‘Sister Fidelma! I thought I recognised you. It is good to see you again.’ He was holding his hand out in greeting to her.

Fidelma took it, her brow furrowed as she tried to place the man from distant memory.

‘You do not recognise me? No matter. It has been a few years since you were in Rome.’

Memory suddenly came to her. ‘You were a scribe in the Lateran Palace…’

‘I was scribe to the Venerable Gelasius,
nomenclator
to His Holiness. I saw you several times in his office when you were investigating the death of the Archbishop Wighard. The Venerable Gelasius has frequently wondered how life was treating you since you left Rome. We have heard many things about you and of Brother Eadulf.’ He turned to Eadulf and smiled, reaching out to take his hand. ‘And you, I believe, are Brother Eadulf? I cannot recall meeting with you, though I know you were assisting Sister Fidelma in Rome.’

Eadulf’s greeting was restrained, as he could not place the man at all.

‘You are Brother Peregrinus,’ Fidelma suddenly said.

The man chuckled. ‘I am honoured to be remembered. I am Nuntius Peregrinus now.’

‘And you are the emissary from Rome?’

‘I am indeed envoy to the council. I brought the instructions from His Holiness, Vitalian, to Bishop Leodegar, concerning the council and giving it blessing and authority. I have to await the outcome of the debates and take those decisions back to Rome again. I am sure the Venerable Gelasius will be delighted to hear the news. It was only yesterday that the bishop told me of your presence here. I have been visiting some of the outlying churches near this city. But I am glad that matters have entered safe hands. What has transpired here is sad. It was
a wise decision of Bishop Leodegar, to seek out your talents to resolve the matter.’

Fidelma was deprecating.

‘We can only do what we are able, Nuntius. I trust that the Venerable Gelasius is well and presumably still in his position in Rome?’

‘He is, indeed, and thinks of you with kindly thoughts. You performed a great service for Rome, which he does not forget.’

‘He flatters me.’

‘Not so. Since Vitalian was elected to the throne of the Blessed Peter, the Church has been taking great strides forward. The schisms that Christendom has suffered are slowly mending, thanks to His Holiness. He has sought to repair the connection between Constantinople and Rome by friendly advances, and sent envoys and gifts to Patriach Peter of Constantinople. In that he has been successful, and now his name, as a Bishop of Rome, has been entered in the diptychs of those eastern churches for the first time in many a generation.’

‘Diptychs?’ frowned Eadulf.

‘The lists of those regarded as worthy and in communion with the teachings of the Faith and elevation to high office,’ explained Fidelma in a swift aside.

‘Exactly so,’ Nuntius Peregrinus confirmed. ‘Vitalian has also tried to heal the rift between the Saxons and the Britons, as you know, by sending Theodore to minister to them. And he is trying to deal with the heresy of monothelitism and bring all the churches into a one-ness with Rome. Hence the importance of this council.’

Fidelma sighed softly. ‘He is obviously ambitious for Rome.’

‘Ambitious for the furtherance of the Faith.’