The Council of the Cursed

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘When the Blessed Reticulus became the first bishop here, or the first we know of, as many claimed Amator preceded him, this was a mixed house. But Bishop Leodegar is of the faction that believe men and women should be separated and, indeed, that the clerics should adopt the code of celibacy if they wish to serve the New Faith. Yet we still have free choice on the matter. Rome has not decreed it as the Rule.’

  ‘So you do not agree with Bishop Leodegar’s Rule? There is no need to be defensive on this matter,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘Eadulf and I share not only a union in our Faith but a union in marriage. There is no Rule of celibacy in our churches either.’

  The young man was nervous. ‘You will understand, then,’ he said, almost pleading.

  ‘We can only understand when we know what it is that you are trying to say, Sigeric. Now, explain why you were abroad that night before dawn.’

  Brother Sigeric bit his lip. ‘I went to meet a girl.’

  He paused and Fidelma had to prompt him to continue.

  ‘Who was this girl?’

  ‘Her name is Valretrade. She is one of the religieuse who serve in the Domus Femini beyond the wall. We became friends when this was still a mixed community. She also had a talent for copying the old texts and so we met here. After the bishop separated the communities, we contrived to meet regularly.’

  ‘And that night you were on your way to an assignation with Valretrade?’

  ‘I had received a message from her urging me to meet her.’

  ‘How did you receive such a message?’

  ‘It was a crude method. My room, as I said, looks across the courtyard that separates us from the Domus Femini. Almost exactly opposite to my window is the chamber occupied by Valretrade. We arranged that when either one of us needed to see the other urgently, we would place a lighted candle in the windows.’

  ‘And that night you saw the candle?’

  Brother Sigeric nodded quickly. ‘I was not sleeping comfortably and I awoke. That was when I saw the candle. I lit an answering one in my window. Once it was seen, the arrangement was that Valretrade raised her candle and moved it from side to side three times. I then did the same. If she then extinguished the candle, it meant that she was on the way to our meeting place. This happened that night and so I left to go to our prearranged meeting point, having also extinguished my candle.’

  ‘What if you had not awoken and seen the candle? It was not a guaranteed way of communication.’

  ‘I grant you that,’ the young man said. ‘But it was the best we could do in the circumstances. Usually, there was never urgency in the meetings. We knew, more or less, on which nights we would meet. That night was different. The signal meant it was urgent.’

  ‘And where did you meet?’

  ‘The pre-arranged meeting spot is by a certain tomb in the catacombs beneath the abbey. It is an old necropolis and where all the old bishops of this abbey are buried.’

  ‘So you went and met Valretrade?’

  ‘I never reached there. I was passing by Bishop Ordgar’s chamber when I noticed the door partly opened and saw what lay inside: the Hibernian and the Briton, lying in blood on the floor, and the Saxon unconscious on the bed. I struggled for a moment between loyalty to the abbey and concern for Valretrade, then I realised that I should rouse the bishop–and that is what I did. After that, it was an hour or more before I could get away. I finally proceeded to the catacombs, but Valretrade was not there.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I returned to my chamber and re-lit the candle, but although I waited until dawn there was no answer to my efforts. I was puzzled until I remembered that while, after the signal, her candle seemed to be extinguished, the light had actually moved away from the window as if the candle was placed elsewhere. At the time, I just thought that she needed the light. By dawn I thought perhaps the signal had not been fully observed and she had changed her mind.’

  ‘So a week has passed since then. What has Valretrade told you about her urgent desire to see you that night? And, of course, your candle mystery?’

  Brother Sigeric turned a woebegone expression to them.

  ‘She has told me nothing, for I have not seen her.’

  Eadulf was frowning. ‘Are you saying she made no attempt to contact you again through your rather cumbersome method?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Have you not contacted her?’

  ‘I tried on the subsequent night without success.’

  ‘Well, we can surely get a message to Valretrade on your behalf. I presume she was angry that you did not turn up at the meeting place.’

  Brother Sigeric shook his head sadly. ‘On the fourth day I summoned up the courage to go to Abbess Audofleda and request to see Valretrade. I saw her stewardess, who turned me from the door.’

  ‘What did this stewardess tell you?’

  ‘She told me that she could not help me even if she wanted to, and claimed that Valretrade had left the abbey and run away.’

  ‘Run away? Did you know of any cause why she would do so?’

  Brother Sigeric looked as if he were in physical pain. ‘She would never have run away before she had spoken to me.’

  ‘But she tried to contact you and you did not turn up.’

  He hung his head and made a sound like a sob. ‘If things were so desperate, she would have waited. I know her. She would have sent a note to me, some message.’

  Fidelma leaned forward and patted the young man comfortingly on the shoulder.

  ‘We will do our best to find out more for you, Sigeric. We will have a word with this Abbess Audofleda and if there is a mystery there, we shall uncover it. In the meantime, try not to worry and—’

  Just then, the library door opened and Brother Chilperic entered.

  ‘I have informed the bishop,’ he said, without preamble. ‘He will await your findings on the matter as soon as you are ready.’

  ‘We have finished here,’ she replied, with a smile to Brother Sigeric as she moved towards the door. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Brother. We shall not forget and will doubtless see you again soon.’

  Brother Sigeric smiled sadly in response.

  ‘Do you need to look at Ordgar’s chamber again?’ asked Brother Chilperic, ‘or should I give orders for it to be cleaned and tidied?’

  ‘I have done with it. However, you may indicate where we will find Abbot Cadfan.’

  ‘He will be found on the third level. You recall where I showed you the chamber of Bishop Ordgar? Good. Along that corridor to the right, you find a small corridor leading off it, and Abbot Cadfan will be found there.’

  ‘In that case we will speak with Bishop Ordgar first and Abbot Cadfan afterwards. We will not need your services in that for we can find our way.’

  Brother Chilperic seemed reluctant to be dismissed but Fidelma and Eadulf were already moving off. He shrugged and turned away.

  Chapter Five

  Bishop Ordgar did not stand as Fidelma and Eadulf entered his chamber, but remained seated, the scowl on his saturnine features giving the impression of an angry and forbidding personality. Behind him stood a young man with black curly hair who watched their entrance with pale blue eyes. He made a step forward as if to greet them, then halted and glanced nervously at the seated bishop before drawing his tongue across his lips as if to moisten them.

  ‘You are Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham?’ The young man directed his question at Eadulf. ‘You are the gerefa that Bishop Leodegar has told us of?’

  ‘I am he,’ Eadulf confirmed, replying in Saxon, for the question had been asked in that language albeit accented in the way of someone who spoke it as a foreign tongue. Then he switched to Latin. ‘This is Fidelma of Cashel, sister to King Colgú, King of Muman–an advocate of the courts of the five kingdoms of Éireann–my wife.’

  Eadulf knew that Fidelma did not like to announce herself in such a grandiose manner but, from what he had heard of Bishop Ordgar, he knew that they had to impress him
from the outset. Eadulf had heard stories of the Saxon bishop’s arrogance and was aware that if it was not challenged from the start, it would be impossible to conduct any form of interrogation with him. Eadulf spoke with his eyes focused unswervingly on the gimlet gaze of the bishop.

  ‘I was told the woman’s name was Sister Fidelma,’ the bishop replied, still speaking in Saxon, his thin mouth twisting in a sneer.

  ‘The Faith encompasses people of many backgrounds,’ Eadulf responded evenly, ‘but, of course, you are right. We are all equals in serving the Faith, bishops or abbots. And “the woman” is my wife.’

  Again he chose his words carefully and with emphasis to bring Bishop Ordgar away from any mistaken sense of importance.

  Eadulf then turned to the young man who had greeted him. ‘And who are you?’

  ‘I am Brother Benevolentia, steward to my lord, Bishop Ordgar.’

  ‘But you are not a Saxon?’

  ‘That is true, Brother. I am a Burgund.’

  Fidelma had struggled to follow the conversation; although she had a rudimentary knowledge of Saxon, she was uncomfortable in that language when it came to nuances and complicated subjects.

  ‘May we speak in Latin?’ she asked, speaking for the first time.

  Both Bishop Ordgar and Brother Benevolentia looked surprised and the bishop shrugged. Fidelma took it as an affirmative.

  ‘Good, since we need to seek answers to some questions.’

  ‘I was told it was Brother Eadulf who was to represent me,’ Bishop Ordgar said. ‘You know that I have a position of some importance? I represent Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury. As soon as this council is ended, I am to continue my journey to Rome to consult with His Holiness Vitalian.’

  ‘Then you have not been accurately informed of my role,’ Eadulf said.

  ‘But we are told that you are of the kingdom of the East Angles and a gerefa,’ intervened Brother Benevolentia. ‘My lord, Bishop Ordgar, has naturally presumed that you would want to support one of your own kin in this matter.’

  Eadulf nearly smiled at the arrogance of the presumption.

  ‘Sister Fidelma and I have been asked by Bishop Leodegar to investigate the matter of the death of Abbot Dabhóc and report to him. That is all. There is no question of representing the interests of anyone except the interests of the dead abbot in the discovery of who killed him.’

  Bishop Ordgar did not look happy.

  ‘Then let us hope you have not forgotten your duty to your own people,’ he snapped. ‘I understand that you have been many years among the people of that western island. I trust you know where loyalty and duty lie.’

  ‘My duty to my own people is a duty to truth–where ever that truth might be,’ Eadulf snapped back. ‘And until we obtain some answers from you, Ordgar of Kent, the truth will not be known.’

  ‘You forget to whom you speak, Brother.’ Brother Benevolentia sounded aghast at Eadulf’s tone.

  ‘I am well aware that I speak to a witness to a murder. Our purpose here is that we require answers to questions,’ replied Eadulf, unperturbed. ‘Can we now proceed to obtain them? And let us return to speaking in Latin!’

  In the angry exchange they had lapsed into Saxon.

  Bishop Ordgar opened his mouth to respond but suddenly checked himself. He breathed out slowly and composed his thin autocratic features.

  ‘Ask your questions then, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham,’ he commanded.

  Eadulf glanced at Fidelma, who nodded with amused approval to indicate that the bishop might respond better if Eadulf, not she, continued to put the questions.

  ‘Describe what happened on the night that Abbot Dabhóc was found in your chamber.’

  Bishop Ordgar was dismissive. ‘Since I was drugged, I cannot say.’

  ‘Tell us, then, what exactly you remember of that night. You remember going to your chamber, I suppose?’ Eadulf could not help the sarcasm in his voice.

  ‘Of course. After evening prayers in the chapel, I went to see Bishop Leodegar to register a complaint about the behaviour of Cadfan who had been discourteous to me earlier. Then I returned to my chamber. I composed myself for sleep having taken, as was my custom, wine. I came awake feeling ill, with an oppressive headache and unsure of my surroundings. I think I remember someone shaking me and raised voices all round. I become unconscious again, and when I awoke for the second time I was in this chamber with the physician tending me. The headache and nausea lasted for some time. It was only after I recovered that I was told that Abbot Dabhóc had been discovered dead in my chamber, with Abbot Cadfan nearby on the floor. When I was found, I was told that I had been regaining some degree of consciousness on the bed but I cannot be sure. That is all.’

  ‘It gives rise to several questions,’ Eadulf asserted.

  Bishop Ordgar sat back with eyes narrowed. ‘Then ask them,’ he said.

  ‘Let us start with the wine. You imply it was drugged?’

  ‘I state it was drugged,’ the man corrected. ‘Nothing but drugged wine would have such an effect on me.’

  ‘Where did this wine come from?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Bishop Ordgar seemed confused. ‘Do you mean what vineyard supplied it?’

  ‘Who gave you this wine?’

  Brother Benevolentia coughed nervously and stepped forward to say, ‘It was I who placed the wine by the bed of the bishop. I do so every night, since it is his custom to take a drink before retiring. It helps to induce sleep and…and…’

  Eadulf saw a look of annoyance form on the bishop’s features as if he felt the steward was revealing flaws in his nature that he would best like to keep hidden.

  ‘And this wine was bought from where?’ pressed Eadulf.

  ‘I purchased a small amphora in the local market.’

  ‘And where was this amphora kept?’

  ‘In the chamber of the bishop. It was a small amphora of red wine so there was no need to take it to the cooler cellars.’

  ‘So wine had already been drunk from it before? It was not newly bought wine?’

  ‘The bishop had been served from the same amphora during the preceding three or four days.’

  ‘And, that night, you poured the cup with your own hand,’ Eadulf went on.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Where is the amphora now?’

  ‘It was thrown away as it had been emptied that night.’

  ‘I suppose the cup was also thrown away?’ Eadulf remarked dryly.

  ‘It was washed and cleaned the next day,’ replied Brother Benevolentia complacently.

  ‘So we have only Ordgar’s word that the wine was drugged.’

  ‘Since when is my word to be doubted?’ Ordgar demanded in a threatening tone.

  Eadulf was unabashed. ‘It is not a question of doubt but a question of confirmation. Tell me, if you are used to drinking wine, how did that wine taste that night?’

  ‘Taste?’ Brother Ordgar frowned. ‘How do you mean–taste?’

  ‘Was there anything unusual about it?’

  ‘No.’ Then he suddenly paused. ‘Except…’

  ‘Yes?’ Eadulf prompted hopefully.

  ‘I thought there was a sweeter taste than usual to it. But it was not disagreeable,’ the bishop admitted.

  ‘Very well. Now, Brother Benevolentia, at what stage in the evening did you pour the wine?’

  ‘The bell rang in the chapel at the end of prayers. Thinking that the bishop would return straightway, I hurried to his chamber and poured the wine.’

  ‘Except that I did not return straightway,’ pointed out Ordgar. ‘I went to see Bishop Leodegar to complain about the conduct of the Briton at the council.’

  ‘Did you wait in the bishop’s chamber until he returned?’ Eadulf asked Brother Benevolentia.

  The young man shook his head. ‘I left the wine by the bedside as usual and then returned to my own chamber, where I fell asleep immediately.’

  ‘And your own chamber is where?’

  �
��Next to the bishop’s, so that he could call me in the night if I am needed.’

  ‘Was the door of the bishop’s chamber locked?’

  ‘Locked? No door is locked in the abbey.’

  ‘Then anyone could enter the room and have access to the wine at any time?’

  ‘Yes. The empty amphora was stored in a cupboard out of sight but after I had poured the wine, the cup was left at the bishop’s bedside.’

  ‘And you were asleep very quickly? You said that you did not hear the bishop return to his chamber.’

  ‘I did not.’

  ‘Did you hear the arrival of Abbot Dabhóc or Abbot Cadfan during the night?’

  Brother Benevolentia made a negative gesture. ‘As I say, I am a sound sleeper.’

  ‘When did you wake?’

  ‘Not until the physician of this abbey, Brother Gebicca, knocked upon my door and told me the bishop had been taken ill; he said he needed my help to remove him to a new chamber where he could be nursed. It was when I entered the room that I saw the body of the Hibernian and the blood and also the unconscious form of the Briton.’

  ‘And the next morning, was it you who cleared away the remains of the wine and washed the cup?’

  Brother Benevolentia shook his head. ‘I think it was Brother Gebicca. He cleared up when the body was taken away.’

  ‘How long have you been steward to Bishop Ordgar?’ Eadulf asked suddenly.

  It was the bishop himself who answered.

  ‘My last steward died from fever on the voyage. It was while I was visiting the abbey of Divio, on my way here, that I met with Brother Benevolentia and offered him the post.’

  ‘Divio?’

  ‘It is a city of the Burgunds which lies north of here,’ supplied Brother Benevolentia. ‘I served in that abbey there as a scribe so have been with Bishop Ordgar for only three weeks.’

  Fidelma had stood silently listening in approval to Eadulf’s questioning. Now she felt compelled to ask the bishop a question of her own.

  ‘How well did you know Abbot Dabhóc?’

  ‘I knew him not at all. We met formally before the council opened but barely exchanged a few words.’

  ‘You did not express a difference of opinion in debate?’