The Council of the Cursed (30 page)

Fidelma turned back to Eadulf in satisfaction.

‘That’s one piece of good fortune. We passed Clodomar’s forge. Do you recall the place?’ And when he nodded, she turned back to the bewildered Ageric. ‘I presume that your brother can be trusted to keep secrets?’

‘He is my brother,’ responded Ageric stoutly. ‘But I will accompany your friend to make sure all is well.’

‘Remember to bring Clotaire back to the entrance before dawn.’

Eadulf tried to hide his dismay at the thought of a nighttime ride on horseback through the forest. Horses were not his favourite mode of transport.

‘Once inside, Sigeric will guide you through the necropolis and into the chapel. This will coincide when all are meeting for the morning prayers. The warriors must stand ready to take control by force.’

‘I am not sure I follow the reasoning,’ Eadulf said, ‘but I will certainly convey all this to Clotaire.’

Fidelma looked apologetically at him.

‘What I am planning is that tomorrow, at morning prayers, which are attended by both communities in the abbey, I shall commence unravelling this mystery. I shall use the chapel as I would a court before the Brehons back home. Before that, I have to get Valretrade here to show me where she was taken captive. By that sarcophagus, I am hoping to find a piece of evidence. Do you follow?’

‘What if Bishop Leodegar will not allow you to speak?’

‘He must, for I will ensure that the Nuntius Peregrinus will be informed what my intention is. Leodegar cannot openly deny the hearing, for that is what he has requested. And Clotaire will also be there to hear. More importantly, Clotaire’s warriors will be there to ensure there is no interference in the matter.’

Eadulf looked gloomy. ‘It could all go wrong.’

‘Not if we all play our parts.’ She glanced at Ageric who stood looking on with his wife and sister-in-law.

‘It is time to set our plans into motion,’ she said. ‘
Audentes fortuna iuvat
. Fortunes favours the daring and we must be daring. Tomorrow morning, if all goes well, we can put an end to the mysteries that have brought such fear and darkness on the abbey and on this city.’

It was just after dawn that Fidelma, with Valretrade at her side and flanked by Abbot Ségdae and the remaining Hibernian delegates, entered the abbey’s chapel. There were glances ranging from astonishment to outrage among the brethren as they marched to the front of the chapel and sat down. The murmuring of protest grew loud but they ignored it. A similar disturbance was heard beyond the wooden screens that separated Abbess Audofleda and the members of her community. It was obvious that no one in the chapel was unaware of their presence. Fidelma had a momentary thought as to what would be going through Abbess Audofleda’s mind and that of Sister Radegund at seeing Valretrade at her side. She knew that she would not have long to wait to find out.

Bishop Leodegar and Brother Chilperic now entered to perform the first service of the day. As the bishop turned to the altar to invoke the ritual of the first prayer, he seemed oblivious to the atmosphere. However, he eventually became aware of the commotion and turned with an angry frown towards the congregation. As he did so, a harsh voice cried from the women’s section: ‘I protest!’

Abbess Audofleda had risen so that she could be seen beyond the separating screen. One arm was flung out towards Fidelma and Valretrade.

Bishop Leodegar followed her pointing finger to where Fidelma was sitting. His jaw slackened. His eyes turned to Valretrade sitting next to her.

‘What is this?’ he demanded. ‘Where have you appeared from, Fidelma of Cashel? I was told that you had disappeared, and Brother Eadulf and
Abbot Ségdae were protesting that you had been abducted. And what is that other woman doing here among the brethren when—’

‘Those women mock the Rule of this abbey, profane this very holy chapel by their presence in the area designated for the brethren!’ Abbess Audofleda interrupted.

Bishop Leodegar was plainly in a state of bewilderment.

‘Explain yourself, Sister Fidelma. You have disappeared and now you reappear–and with a woman seated by you when you know that, while I gave dispensation for you, this abbey is segregated and that no other female has any right to be here.’

‘I will explain.’ Fidelma put a reassuring hand on Valetrade’s shoulder. ‘I was prepared to allow the morning prayers to finish before announcing our presence, but since you prefer the explanations now, so be it. I have come, and with witnesses, to resolve the mystery of what has been taking place here. And I claim your authority, Bishop Leodegar, to do so.’

‘I cannot allow—’ the bishop spluttered.

Abbot Ségdae rose at once.

‘As senior delegate from Hibernia, I bear witness to your commission to Fidelma of Cashel and to Brother Eadulf to investigate and present her conclusions as to who is guilty of the murder of Abbot Dabhóc.’

He had been joined by the languid figure of the Nuntius Peregrinus who was standing next to his grim-faced
custodes
, his constant shadow.

‘As envoy from the Holy Father in Rome, I remind you, Bishop Leodegar, that this was your commission,’ he said. ‘I bring with me Bishop Ordgar of Kent and Abbot Cadfan of Gwynedd who are each as anxious as you are to hear Sister Fidelma’s words. I submit that you are in error in saying that you cannot allow this.’

Bishop Leodegar hesitated, clearly in a quandary as to what he should do.

‘We, too, are anxious to hear what resolution Fidelma of Cashel has to offer,’ cried one of the delegates, Abbot Herenal of Bro Erech. Several others now cried out in agreement.

Brother Chilperic moved forward and whispered into Leodegar’s ear. The bishop’s face grew long. Before he could speak, Abbess Audofleda was interrupting again.

‘I claim Fidelma is a conspirator sent to disrupt our morning worship!’

‘That is a silly claim designed to stop the truth being heard. By what right does she claim that?’ Fidelma asked.

Another woman had taken her place beside Abbess Audofleda so that her head could also be seen above the screen partition.

‘Her right is my authority!’ the woman cried, then flung off the hood of her robe. There was a gasp as most of the assembly recognised Lady Beretrude.

Bishop Leodegar was even more startled at her appearance.

‘Lady Beretrude,’ he swallowed, ‘these are matters for ecclesiastical authority. While your intervention is appreciated, you cannot…’

‘
Cannot
?’ The voice was threatening. ‘You know my authority in this city and in this land of Burgundia, Leodegar. If it is not acknowledged, then I will have to demonstrate it.’ She clapped her hands twice.

A dozen men clad in the robes of the brethren, who had been standing around the edge of the chapel, moved forward now and cast them off. Each one was a warrior; each one held a sword in his hand. There was momentary chaos.

Fidelma looked to the anxious Abbot Ségdae and smiled briefly in reassurance. The interruption was no more than she had expected.

‘Some friends will be with us soon. Do not fear,’ she whispered.

‘Now, Bishop Leodegar, will you obey my authority?’ demanded Lady Beretrude loudly.

‘No, but you will answer to mine, Beretrude!’ came a cold male voice.

The young King Clotaire, with Ebroin, Eadulf and Sigeric behind him, was walking slowly down the aisle towards the high altar. Behind them, appearing rather sheepishly, walked the young Lord Guntram with two of Clotaire’s warriors. Bishop Leodegar and Brother Chilperic had become like statues, shocked into immobility with the rapidity of events beyond their control.

Fidelma glanced quickly around. Clotaire’s men who, as if by magic, seemed to pour out of the dim recesses of the chapel with weapons at the ready, had already disarmed the dozen warriors of Beretrude. Only a couple of the warriors had resisted and their lifeless bodies lay sprawled on the floor of the chapel. The uproar was deafening among the community but
Ebroin had moved forward. He held up a staff of office that he thumped forcefully on the stone floor.

‘Silence!’ he called in a stentorian voice. ‘Silence and recognise your imperator, Clotaire, the third of his name to govern the house of the Merovingian. Hail Clotaire! Hail our rightful King!’

The effect was to gradually still the assembly.

Ebroin signalled to his men to secure all the exits from the chapel. He then turned to Bishop Leodegar with an expression of satisfaction.

‘With your permission, we will remove those screens that separate the women of this congregation so that they are not hidden from us. I am sure Lady Beretrude is anxious to join in this community?’

Without waiting for Leodegar’s assent, he gestured to a couple of his warriors who quickly removed the folding wooden screens that separated the women’s section from the rest of the community in the chapel. There was some nervous murmuring while this was being done. Fidelma saw that Beretrude was still standing, her face white and her features a mask of outrage. Abbess Audofleda was standing with head bowed beside her.

Clotaire took his place before the high altar and stood with folded arms gazing thoughtfully at the congregation. Gradually everyone fell into an expectant silence. Then he turned and glanced at Bishop Leodegar.

‘A chair would be welcome, Bishop. There is much to be heard here and I have been on my feet these several hours.’

Brother Chilperic immediately fetched a chair and hurriedly placed it before the altar facing the congregation, for the King to be seated.

‘We will keep to Latin as our
lingua franca
in this matter as it is, indeed, the common tongue between all who are gathered in this place,’ he announced. ‘Fidelma of Cashel, are you prepared to elucidate?’

Fidelma moved forward and turned to face the congregation, having bowed her head to Clotaire. ‘Imperator, I am ready,’ she replied. She murmured to Eadulf who stood near by, ‘Well done. You see, fortune has favoured the daring.’

‘Do you not have another saying–that time is a good historian?’ Eadulf responded pessimistically.

Fidelma then murmured to Brother Sigeric, who stood by Eadulf’s side, ‘Sigeric, you may join Valretrade.’

The young man hurried to take his place beside Valretrade; the joining of their hands and joyous expressions told of their emotions.

‘You may proceed, Fidelma,’ Clotaire invited. ‘We are ready.’

Fidelma was used to estimating a correct dramatic pause before commencing. She had learned the trick during the years that she had presented cases before the great Brehons of the five kingdoms. Now she stood, head slightly bowed and silent until the last ripples of noise died away in the abbey. She began softly, and slowly allowed her voice to gain power.

‘I came to this place to attend a council at the behest of the abbot and chief bishop of my brother’s kingdom which is that of Muman, one of the five kingdoms of the land you know as Hibernia. My role was to advise Abbot Ségdae in the law of Hibernia that might affect matters discussed in this council. I came in the company of my husband, Brother Eadulf, who is well known among my people as he is also a
gerefa
…’

She paused a moment.

‘When we came here, it was through the intercession of Abbot Ségdae, as the senior surviving delegate from Hibernia, that Bishop Leodegar requested us to undertake an investigation over a death that occurred here. Abbot Dabhóc had been bludgeoned to death in the chamber of the Saxon Bishop Ordgar of Canterbury while both Ordgar and Abbot Cadfan of Gwynedd were in the same chamber. It seemed a simple enough task. We were supposed to decide which of the two–Ordgar or Cadfan–was guilty of this crime. Yet simplicity is often deceptive. So it was in this case.’

‘It is still a simple decision,’ muttered Bishop Leodegar loudly. ‘One of the two is guilty.
Vel caeco appareat
!’

The remark brought forth an irritated gesture from Clotaire and the bishop fell silent.

Fidelma allowed herself a grim smile.

‘Bishop Leodegar says it would be apparent even to a blind man. Praise God that I do not have any affliction and can use all of my senses. Some people here have all their senses but cannot use them.’ There was a chuckle from some of the brethren. ‘However, let the twine of truth begin to unwind. It became obvious that there were other matters of
concern in this place that might or might not have been part of this apparently simple murder. There were, in fact, three matters that in some way were linked together.’

Lady Beretrude had recovered some of her poise.

‘Majesty, I must be heard,’ she called out. ‘I came here because I had heard that this woman might try to accuse the good Sisters of the abbey and others–even
me
–with claims of wrongdoing. I speak for the Burgunds of this province. My role here is to represent the law of our people. This woman is
not
of our people. She has no status in law among us. She cannot be allowed to make judgements that condemn any one of us. She is a foreigner in our midst without rank or position.’

Clotaire stared bleakly back.

‘The last I heard, Beretrude of the Burgunds, was that your son Guntram, who now stands beside me, was the lord of this province, ruling under my authority with the law of the Franks. Whose law do
you
claim to represent?’

Guntram shuffled uneasily at the side of the King.

‘Be silent, Mother,’ he muttered uneasily, as if embarrassed. ‘Sister Fidelma speaks with the authority of the King and…and under my authority as lord of the Burgunds.’

‘So now your protest is answered, lady,’ Clotaire added sharply, ‘Obey your lord and your King.’

Lady Beretrude’s mouth closed in a thin line, her face suddenly red with mortification.

Fidelma waited until there was a silence again.

‘I am aware that I can only point things out. I cannot say whether these matters transgress your laws. I know that they would transgress the laws of my own land but then each people have their own laws and their own customs. I must leave it to those who are in charge of the law of this land to consider what I say and, if they feel it incumbent upon themselves, to enact that justice which is their own.’

There was a murmur of some approval from the brethren of the abbey.

Clotaire waved a hand towards her.

‘This is well understood, Fidelma of Cashel. Proceed. You said that there were three matters that needed to be dealt with.’

‘Let me start with the one matter of which there is ample proof. A matter with several witnesses to testify that I speak the truth. It is the matter of slavery.’

Bishop Leodegar leaned forward immediately. ‘There is no law forbidding slavery in our land, nor the buying and selling of slaves.’

Fidelma turned to him. ‘Of that I have become painfully aware. I find it a detestable thing, as do my people. Yet I acknowledge it exists in other cultures. I do not argue that it is legal under your law and customs. However, I think that even under the laws you have in this land, the idea of abducting the freeborn and selling them into slavery is a questionable practice. I was kidnapped but two days ago and was about to be sold into slavery…’

This time it was Abbess Audofleda who interrupted.

‘Freeborn you might have been, but you are a foreigner and that negates such law. If you were abducted by slave traders, then bring them before us.’

‘You are right to make that distinction between freeborn and foreigners,’ replied Fidelma calmly. ‘However, many freeborn Burgunds and Franks, members of your own community, have been abducted from your care and were being sold into slavery. You demand that the slave traders should be brought here. They are here already.’

‘A lie! A lie!’ cried Sister Radegund, coming forward to the abbess’s side, her voice rising above the hubbub that had broken out.

‘It is no lie, and there stands Sister Valretrade who was one of the freeborn women of this city, who served in your community, who was betrayed and abducted. She shared my peril in our escape from Beretrude’s villa.’

Clotaire was regarding the
abbatissa
grimly.

‘Before you call it a lie, Abbess Audofleda, let me also tell you that some of my warriors encountered a barge on the Aturavos yesterday evening. There were thirty religieuse mainly from your abbey and their children being transported under the care of a merchant called Verbas of Peqini. They were all manacled and, had their journey continued, they would have been taken to the southern seaports to be sold in the slave markets. Sadly, for Vebras of Peqini, he and his men tried to dispute with the authority of my warriors. They are all dead but I am pleased to say that the women and their children have been escorted back to
Autun where they stand ready to give an account of their capture and imprisonment.’