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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_rt_yes, #Church History, #Fiction, #tpl, #_NB_Fixed, #Mystery, #Historical, #Clerical Sleuth, #Medieval Ireland

Valley of the Shadow (12 page)

BOOK: Valley of the Shadow
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‘Then let us go for a walk and prepare ourselves for the negotiations. Did you hear, by the way, what Brother Dianach said about Brother Solin?’
Eadulf began to rise. He frowned.
‘Only that he had gone out early. Why? Is there something else to be learnt from that?’
‘Rather than having gone out early, he did not even come in at any time during the night.’
Eadulf looked at her with interest.
‘How do you know?’
‘I was up before your infamous cock crowed. Brother Solin’s door was open just as it had been when I retired to my room last night. The coverlet of the bed was undisturbed just as it had been last night. The logic is that he never came back to the hostel.’
Eadulf ran a hand reflectively through his hair.
‘He was still in the feasting hall when we left, wasn’t he? No, wait a moment. Young Brother Dianach had retired early. A pious, sober body is that one. Now, I seem to recall that Brother Solin left not long afterwards. Before we did. In fact, shortly after Murgal made his dramatic exit.’
‘So where has he been all night?’
‘Are you saying that it may have some bearing on what he is doing here?’
‘I do not know. But we must watch out for Brother Solin. I do not like him.’
They were about to leave the hostel when the door opened and the object of their conversation entered. He looked startled at seeing them standing as if waiting for him and then hurriedly composed his features into a bland smile, wishing them a good morning.
‘We have not been outside to see if it is good or not,’ Fidelma returned innocently. ‘Is it so?’
‘You should rise early, as I do,’ Brother Solin said unperturbed, moving to the table and seating himself. He began to help himself liberally to the food which remained on the tray. There was no doubting that he was in good appetite.
‘Have you always been an early riser?’ continued Fidelma, her tone guileless. ‘I have difficulties, don’t you, Eadulf?’
‘Oh, indeed, I do,’ agreed Eadulf, entering into the spirit of the banter. ‘Especially this morning, I was disturbed by that confounded cock crowing. Is that what plucked you from your slumber, Brother Solin?’
‘No, I was awake earlier. I have always been an early riser.’
Eadulf exchanged a glance with Fidelma but she shook her head, not wishing Eadulf to accuse Brother Solin openly of telling an untruth.
‘I suppose it is good to begin the day with a strenuous walk before breakfast?’ she prompted, returning to the table and sliding back into her seat.
‘Nothing like it,’ agreed Brother Solin complacently, tearing a piece of bread and helping himself to another slice of cheese.
Eadulf started to cough to smother his indignation. One thing he had noticed, and he was sure Fidelma had noticed the same, was that Brother Solin was wearing the same clothes that he had worn on the previous evening during the feast. A man of Brother Solin’s standing would always have extra clothing to change into for special occasions.
Fidelma had also noticed that Solin had not changed his clothes
since the previous evening and spoke hurriedly in case Eadulf was going to comment on the fact.
‘Perhaps you would go to my cell and collect the material I have brought for the meeting with Laisre and his council?’ she asked him pointedly.
Eadulf took the hint and went up to the bed chambers, pausing at the top of the stair to listen to the rest of the conversation.
‘Are there good places to walk around here, Brother Solin?’ he heard Fidelma asking.
‘Indifferently good,’ replied the cleric.
‘Where did you go?’
‘Beyond the cluster of houses at the fork of the river, just a quarter of a mile from the gates of the ráth,’ came back the reply readily enough.
The answers were given with such assurance that Eadulf knew that Fidelma would not be able to shake Solin from his story that he had simply been walking early. What could the cleric from Armagh be up to? Indeed, were they being unjust in suspecting that he was involved in anything subversive at all?
As if she had read his very thoughts, Eadulf heard Fidelma lower her voice confidentially.
‘Since we are alone, Brother Solin, let me ask you, between ourselves, why are you really here?’
There was a pause and then Brother Solin chuckled deeply.
‘I have told you before, Sister Fidelma, and yet you do not believe me.’
‘I would like to hear the truth.’
‘Whose truth? You do not like my truth, so what must I say?’
‘Do you take an oath, by the body of Christ, that you are on a mission from Ultan of Armagh merely to assess the strength of the Faith in the five kingdoms? Why? Armagh has no jurisdiction here. This is where the bishop of Imleach rules.’
Brother Solin chuckled wheezily.
‘You have studied in Tara, Fidelma of Cashel. I have even heard of you from Ultan. The Brehon Morann of Tara was your mentor. Your advisor in the Faith was Abbot Laisran of Durrow and you were a novice at Kildare. You joined Abbess Etain of Kildare as advisor at the council in Whitby. From there you were asked by Ultan of Armagh to go on a mission to Rome. Only since you have returned have you decided to stay under your brother’s protection at Cashel.’
Fidelma was astounded at how much the man knew about her.
‘You seem to know much, Brother Solin,’ she admitted.
‘I am Ultan’s secretary, as I have already said. I need to know much.’
‘It does not answer my question. Armagh is not accepted as the mother-church of this kingdom.’
‘The point that I was making, Sister, is that you have travelled enough to know something of the rights of the Uí Néill kings. And just as the Uí Néill kings assert their rights to the High Kingship and dominion over the five kingdoms, so does Armagh assert its rights to the ecclesiastical kingdom of all Ireland.’
Fidelma was unruffled.
‘I know the dissensions between the Uí Néill and the Eóghanacht over the symbolism of the High Kingship,’ she affirmed cautiously. ‘There are few living in the five kingdoms who do not know that. The Uí Néill have been claiming for many years that the kingship of Tara should have power over all five kingdoms. When the kings of Ireland first met and decreed that they should elect a High King from among them, it was never meant as an autocratic office but one of a “precedence of honour”. Each High King was to be elected by and from the ranks of each royal dynasty in turn. It was an honour, a token of respect, not a giving of power. Look in the laws of the five kingdoms and turn to the laws of kingship. Show me a law that even admits there is an office in the five kingdoms greater than that of the provincial king?’
Brother Solin sat back with a derisory grin.
‘I expected that an Eóghanacht princess would be able to quote me the law when it favours Cashel.’
‘I speak as a
dálaigh,’
returned Fidelma firmly. ‘If I spoke as an Eóghanacht princess I would quote the law of the
Uraiccecht Bec
– “greatest over kings is the king of Muman”.’
‘The Uí Néill do not agree.’
‘Naturally.’ Fidelma could not keep the sneer out of her voice.
‘Yet you have in the past acknowledged Sechnassuch as High King. You have been to Tara and served at his court? You have even acknowledged Ultan as archbishop.’
‘I was summoned to Tara to help solve the mystery of the theft of the High King’s sword. I recognise the High Kingship out of courtesy for the sacredotal honour as envisaged by the kings. But no Eóghanacht would admit that the king who sits in Tara has supreme authority over these southern dominions. Nor did I, in calling Ultan by the Greek title of
archiepiskopos,
do anything more than attempt to translate our Irish title of Comarb of Patrick. For an archbishop superintends the bishops of his
province, just as the Comarb of Ailbe of Imleach does here in Muman.’
Brother Solin shook his head slowly.
‘There is a time coming, Fidelma, when the High Kingship will not be just an empty title. The only way to make this land great, not just a land with quibbling provincial kingdoms, is through a strong High King who unites all the kingdoms within his grasp.’
Fidelma’s eyes flashed dangerously.
‘And that High King would be one of the Uí Néill, of course?’
‘Who better to lead than the descendants of Niall of the Nine Hostages? Last night you claimed Eóghanacht descended from Eber, son of Milesius. But do not the Uí Néill have a similar claim from Eremon, who was the elder son of Milesius, who ruled the north? Did not Eremon slay Eber when he tried to usurp that power?’
Fidelma’s voice had not raised during this exchange in spite of the agitation of Brother Solin. She still kept it low and even.
‘I have met with Sechnassuch, son of Blathmaic, who sits on the throne at Tara. He is a man of principle and would not hunger for power in the way you described. He claims Tara in accordance with the custom of precedence. He obeys the laws of the five kingdoms.’
‘Sechnassuch? The whelp of Blathmaic mac Aedo Slaine!’ It was a derisory, automatic ejaculation. Then a strange look came across Brother Solin’s face. It was as if he had regretted the outburst. His attitude changed abruptly.
‘You are right, Fidelma.’ His voice was suddenly ingratiating. ‘Sometimes I let my dreams for a better system of kingship of this land stand in the way of reality. You are right, of course. Absolutely right. Sechnassuch would not subvert his office.’
Fidelma knew Brother Solin had realised that he had said too much. Yet it was not enough to allow her to glimpse a reason why the cleric was in Gleann Geis.
‘You have still not explained why Ultan should send a representative to this lonely outpost of Christendom?’ she pressed. ‘He could find out the standing of the Faith by a far more simple means.’
Brother Solin shrugged eloquently.
‘Perhaps, he had heard of the difficulties that Imleach had in converting this area to the True Faith and asked me to bring a mission here to see what might be accomplished? Perhaps it is a coincidence that I have arrived just when you are negotiating a means whereby Imleach might bring lightness to this black valley.’
‘Three false statements,’ snapped Fidelma, quoting the triads of Eireann. ‘“Perhaps”, “may be” and “I dare say”!’
Brother Solin chuckled in appreciation at her erudition.
‘Well, Sister, if there is anything further that I may advise you on … ?’
Eadulf was bending forward to witness the exchange when he heard a hollow cough behind him.
‘Are you unwell, Brother?’
Eadulf straightened up with a red face and found the young Brother Dianach regarding him curiously. He had entirely forgotten that Dianach had gone to his bedchamber.
‘I felt a little dizzy,’ he muttered, trying to think of some excuse for his position. ‘Putting your head between your knees is good for the condition.’
‘So that is what you were attempting?’ Eadulf could not tell whether Brother Dianach was being sarcastic or not. ‘A dangerous thing to do on the stairs. Still, I trust you will be better but I fear you have the wrong philosophy towards maintaining a healthy body. Excuse me, Brother Eadulf.’
The young man passed down the stair before Eadulf could think of a suitable reply. He felt annoyed with himself. Brother Dianach was surely suspicious now as to why Eadulf was crouching at the head of the stairs. It must have been obvious that Eadulf was listening to the conversation below.
Brother Solin looked up as his scribe came down into the room and smiled briefly.
‘Good morning, Brother Dianach. Do you have your stylus and clay tablets ready?’
‘I do,’ the young man replied.
Brother Solin returned his gaze to Fidelma.
‘I do not think we need say more on this subject now that we are clear about it?’ he asked, a slight emphasis in his voice.
Fidelma returned his gaze evenly.
‘I agree,’ she said. ‘For the time being.’
Brother Solin stood up and wiped the residue of food from the corners of his mouth.
‘Come with me, Brother Dianach,’ he instructed, moving to the door. ‘We must prepare ourselves for this morning’s council.’ He cast a glance at Fidelma which she could not interpret.
As soon as the door had closed behind them Eadulf came stumbling down the stairs.
‘Dianach caught me listening at the top of the stairs …’ he began.
‘Did you hear what passed between us then?’ interrupted Fidelma sharply.
‘I did. I thought …’
‘Brother Solin is obviously concealing something,’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘Ultan of Armagh would have no concern about this backwater. There is something else going on here. But what? I am most frustrated. What is Solin really up to?’
‘There is a philosophy that if you have to lie then you should incorporate as much of the truth in the lie as permissible,’ Eadulf volunteered.
BOOK: Valley of the Shadow
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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