Fidelma looked shocked at his suggestion.
‘I am uncertain of the ways of your country, Ebroin, but in my country we calmly investigate and when we find evidence, then we accuse the person concerned. They are then given a chance to defend themselves. Confession born of pain and fear is no confession at all but merely a cry for the pain to end.’
Clotaire was looking worried. ‘There is a truth in what you say, Fidelma, but if there is danger in Autun…’
Ebroin too looked concerned. ‘Do you know if the Nuntius from Rome is still there?’ When Fidelma nodded, he shook his head. ‘Rome expects you to attend, Majesty. You are to endorse the decisions made at Autun and, in return, the Holy Father will recognise your title as Emperor of all the Franks.’
‘How will we know if there might be danger from Leodegar?’ asked the young King.
‘Might be?’ muttered Ebroin. ‘I remember when your father, Clovis, died and your mother, Balthild, found the regency thrust on her. Didn’t your mother seek advice from Leodegar because he had been raised at the royal court due to the high rank of his parents? He had a taste for power then. Perhaps he enjoyed it too much to part with it.’
‘But he was instrumental in educating me and my brothers,’ Clotaire pointed out.
‘He persuaded us to enter into a thankless war with the Lombards–and we saw the defeat of our armies by Grimuald of Benevento,’ argued Ebroin. ‘Shame on our arms! We are now hard pressed to defend our very borders from the vengeful Lombards.’
‘That was why my mother sent him away from the court.’
‘Aye, to be bishop at Autun,’ Ebroin grumbled. ‘And now what grief is he stirring up in Autun?’
Fidelma cleared her throat noisily to interrupt them, but before she could speak, one of the warriors came in, holding something in his hand.
‘This was the only thing of interest we found on one of the bodies of the robbers, Imperator.’ He held it out. It was an emblem of sorts–a bronze circle in whose centre was a jagged saltire cross.
‘I have seen that design before,’ ventured Fidelma, trying to remember where. ‘What is it?’
Ebroin glanced at it and shrugged.
‘Nothing of significance in this part of the world. It is the cross of Benignus, much favoured by the Burgunds. You would see it in many places.’
‘It is a Burgund symbol?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘Of course. It was used on the shields of their kings before they accepted the rule of the Franks.’
Fidelma gave a soft sigh and Clotaire met her gaze expectantly.
‘Does this mean something to you, Fidelma?’
‘It might mean a conspiracy against you, Imperator,’ she said. ‘But I cannot be definite.’
‘So what are you suggesting we do?’
‘I suggest that Eadulf and I return to the abbey. It will allow me to bring to a conclusion some lines of investigation that I need to follow.’
‘I am against it!’ snapped Ebroin. ‘It may give warning to whoever is behind—’
‘Behind what, exactly?’ Clotaire interrupted. ‘We do not know. And what is your suggestion, Ebroin?’
‘Ride down on Autun, seek out the conspirators harboured by Leodegar and burn them as rebels to teach the city a lesson.’
Fidelma forced herself to laugh. It was an unnatural laugh and sounded hollow, but it was the only way she could express her disapproval of Ebroin’s attitudes with sufficient force. She had the young King’s attention again.
‘What use would that be?’ she demanded. ‘To seize hapless people who may or may not be guilty of a crime. Do you want to leave a legacy among your people as a tyrant? That would be one of the easiest ways. But if you want to be hailed as a king who is concerned with justice, then allow us to find the guilty first before you punish a city indiscriminately.’
Ebroin snorted in disgust but Clotaire held up his hand to silence any further comment.
‘As I have said, I have spoken with teachers from your land and they have told me of your system of law and justice. It would be my wish to emulate it one day.’ He turned to Ebroin. ‘You have been a good mentor, my friend. I fear you do not yet deem me adult enough for the decisions that I must make as King. However, old friend, in this matter, I know what I should do. That is to listen to the wise advice of this princess from Hibernia.’
Ebroin started to say something and then shrugged as if resigned to his master’s wishes. The young man turned to Fidelma.
‘What is it that you propose we should do?’
‘Is there any reason why you should not delay here for a few days? You say you had a plan to stay with Lord Guntram. Do so. When I am ready, I can send you word to come to the abbey. Indeed, perhaps I might need the support of your warriors.’
‘I have only fifty fighting men with me but they are my best guards.’
‘But if there is rebellion brewing, we will need more men,’ Ebroin said.
‘Someone can ride back to my palace and bring more men-at-arms if needed.’ Clotaire dismissed the objection.
‘What about Guntram?’ demanded Ebroin of Fidelma. ‘Is he part of whatever this conspiracy is?’
‘I do not think the problem will come from Guntram,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘And he has only a dozen men at his hunting lodge. In fact, my suggestion is that you and your men continue on to Guntram’s lodge, as you had planned. Stay there until I send for you. The presence of your warriors will also keep Guntram in order, if I am mistaken about him. But I believe that he does not care for much else besides his comforts. No, the danger will be in Autun itself.’
‘But how long do you expect us to remain at Guntram’s fortress?’ queried Clotaire.
‘No more than a few days. I think I am very close to uncovering the main culprits, for there have been attempts on our lives already. That is a sure sign that we are near to the answers to this riddle.’
‘Then surely it is dangerous for you and Eadulf to return to Autun?’
‘It would be more dangerous for you if we did not. One or other of us will bring you word when you should enter the city.’
Chapter Nineteen
It was Eadulf who drove the wagon back to Autun. It was a slow and sombre journey, undertaken in silence for the greater part. The body of Brother Budnouen was wrapped in a blanket in the back of the wagon. Fidelma sat thoughtfully at Eadulf’s side, seemingly lost in her own world until they came to the great paved square in front of the abbey. Leaving the wagon tethered outside, they went in search of Brother Chilperic. The young steward was shocked when Fidelma told him of Brother Budnouen’s death.
She left out all references to Clotaire and Ebroin and their men, simply saying that they had been chased by robbers who had killed Brother Budnouen but had finally abandoned the chase. She did not see it as a lie but a matter of being frugal with the facts.
‘You were lucky to escape in that slow old wagon with a mule team,’ Brother Chilperic commented, and then added unctuously, ‘but poor Brother Budnouen…requiescat in pace.’
‘Can you contact his family to give them the sad news?’
‘I believe so. Bishop Arigius at Nebirnum would know about such things. Brother Budnouen was due to leave here shortly for the return journey there. We will have to find a volunteer to return the wagon and his trade goods there. We will bury our poor Brother here in the abbey grounds.’
They were about to turn away when Brother Chilperic said: ‘The bishop has been asking where you were. He wishes to see you urgently.’
Bishop Leodegar scowled as the couple entered his chamber.
‘Sister Fidelma, I have been asking for you. Where have you been?’
‘To see Lord Guntram. Brother Budnouen is dead. He was driving us back when we were attacked by robbers. He was killed but we escaped,’ she replied tersely. ‘We brought his body back. Brother Chilperic is attending to matters.’
‘Brother Budnouen was a good friend to this abbey,’ the bishop declared, showing sorrow
and astonishment at the news.
‘He was certainly a friend to us,’ she replied.
‘Death seems to follow your footsteps, Fidelma of Cashel,’ muttered the bishop.
‘When investigating unnatural death, one often finds more violent death.’
‘Days have passed and you have still not come back to me with a decision on whether Cadfan or Ordgar killed Abbot Dabhóc. Even the Nuntius Peregrinus grows impatient. What is your decision?’
‘You will be the first person to hear it when I make it,’ Fidelma replied.
‘You refuse to give a decision on the matter?’ Bishop Leodegar asked ominously.
‘I did not say that,’ snapped Fidelma. ‘I have said that I require more time. There is more to this matter than asking me to make a simple toss of the dice.’
‘I have been very patient with you, Fidelma of Cashel.’ The bishop’s voice was heavy. ‘I acceded to the request of Abbot Ségdae who said you were a great lawyer in your land. I overlooked the fact that you are a woman and that your culture has refused to accept the celibacy that we, in this abbey, have decided upon. I allowed you to stay here in the abbey with your…your companion, Eadulf. All these things I accepted, even giving you authority to do as you would under your own laws and system. All I asked in return was a quick decision on the murder so that the council could meet and progress those matters that have to be discussed so that the decisions can be sent to Rome. What has happened?’
When Fidelma drew herself up, Eadulf hoped that she would not lose her temper against the bishop’s tirade, but she spoke coolly and carefully.
‘What has happened, Bishop Leodegar of Autun–what has happened is that more deaths have occurred in this abbey and that attempts have been made on our lives.’
‘More deaths?’ sneered the bishop. ‘Do you speak of the Hibernian monk Gillucán, Brother Andica, and now of the Gaul Brother Budnouen? How can they be related to the abbot’s murder? The Hibernian monk was killed and robbed after leaving this abbey. Brother Andica, a stonemason, fell in an accident. Now you say Brother Budnouen was killed by robbers. As for the attempt on your life…are you saying that the statue fell by design? It was an accident and you were in a place that I have forbidden even the brethren to go to because of the dangers of the ancient masonry. That has nothing to do with the murder of Abbot Dabhóc! Come, this is prevarication.’
Fidelma met his eyes with grim determination.
‘You seem to know more than I do. If you do, then the decision is your own to make and I wash my hands of it. I will inform Nuntius Peregrinus that you want to make the decision yourself.’
Bishop Leodegar hesitated, his lips compressed for a moment.
‘I need a decision from you,’ he repeated.
‘I shall not be rushed into a judgement before I have assured myself that I have all the facts,’ replied Fidelma stubbornly, whilst realising that she might push the bishop into removing her and Eadulf from the investigation.
Bishop Leodegar seemed to be struggling to control his anger.
‘I will tell you what I shall do. I shall compromise.’ He gave a tight smile. ‘In two days from now, we celebrate the feast day of the Blessed Martial of Augustoritum who brought the Faith to the Lemovices. If you are not willing to resolve this matter by then, I shall pronounce on the case myself so that we may go forward upon Rome’s business.’
Fidelma gazed into the dark eyes of the bishop. She knew that she was facing an immovable object.
‘Then two days hence it shall be.’ She muttered to Eadulf: ‘Let us waste no further time here.’ Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room.
Outside, he gave her a look of gentle remonstrance.
‘Isn’t a little diplomacy a better way of securing what is needed?’ he asked.
Her angry frown disappeared and her features softened.
‘You tell me what diplomacy can be used against such a man as Bishop Leodegar and I will pursue it,’ she tried to joke. ‘Besides, let us not think that Leodegar plays absolutely no part in these events. He seems a close friend of Beretrude, not to mention of Abbess Audofleda–both of whom have some culpability in these affairs.’
‘Do you really think there is a conspiracy here to assassinate Clotaire when he arrives?’ asked Eadulf. ‘I cannot see the connection. And what of the disappearance of not only Valretrade but all the married religieuse and their children from the Domus Femini?’
‘They are being kidnapped to be sold as slaves.’
Eadulf had suspected as much but had not wished to believe it.
‘But with the approval of the abbess and the others?’ He made it into a protest.
When Fidelma made no reply, he asked: ‘And how can it be linked with Abbot Dabhóc’s murder?’
‘I need some proof to support my suspicion.’
‘You think you know who is guilty?’
‘I suspect. That is not the same thing. I need proof.’
Eadulf shook his head in bewilderment. ‘We have run out of time.’
They fell in step and Fidelma guided him back towards the main entrance of the abbey.
‘As we cannot progress logically,’ she told him, ‘our next step is to create a catharsis–an action by which the enemy will react in such a way that they give themselves away.’
Eadulf halted in mid-stride.
‘What are you suggesting?’ he demanded with a frown. ‘I fear it is something dangerous.’
‘I am not sure yet what I am suggesting. First I am going to change into some simple garments so that I will not be noticed. Then I want to have a close look at Beretrude’s villa. The answer is there, perhaps in that cellar room where you saw Verbas of Peqini take the prisoners.’
Eadulf was horrified. ‘I…I forbid it. Absolutely! You know Verbas is there. You believe the affair of the poisonous snake was deliberate. If anyone goes to examine the villa, it must be me.’
‘I have a plan,’ she replied. ‘It needs you to remain here.’
‘And am I to know what your plan is?’
‘Do you remember that Brother Budnouen pointed out that seamstress shop not far from Beretrude’s villa? I shall get some local clothes there. I’ll disguise myself and then do what we call cúartugad–a reconnoitre.’
‘But we saw Sister Radegund go into that very seamstress,’ Eadulf reminded her. ‘It is too dangerous. What do you hope to find, anyway?’
‘I am not sure. I have to keep an open mind–that is why I, not you, must go. I want to explore the place where you saw Verbas of Peqini bring in the manacled women and the child. Perhaps these women are being held there. If not, I must find out where Verbas is. He is not merely a merchant. I believe he trades in slaves and Beretrude is involved with this.’
‘I still don’t see how it connects with Abbot Dabhóc’s murder.’
‘Poor Brother Gillucán supplied us with the connection. Think about it. But first things first. We have little time.’
‘Time? We have only two days. Two days and Leodegar will make his announcement,’ muttered Eadulf moodily.
‘Then we must push events towards a rapid conclusion.’
‘You cannot go on your own,’ Eadulf insisted.
‘One person can go where two can’t. A local woman wandering around the streets near the villa might pass unnoticed but a man and a woman would not. Besides, you must remain here in case I fail to return. In that case, find Ségdae and let him know everything you can. It will then be up to him. There is also a question you must ask Ségdae that has been troubling me. Unfortunately, there is no time to find him now.’
‘What question?’
‘Benén mac Sesenén of Midhe, Patrick’s comarb, whose name is on that missing reliquary–I am sure that he also adopted a Latin name but it eludes me. I need you to find out. I think it will tell us much.’
‘I will do so,’ Eadulf replied. ‘I am still worried about you going. Anything could happen to you, alone in the dark and—’
> ‘I don’t intend to go in the dark,’ replied Fidelma confidently. ‘I intend to go now, while it is still daylight. I hope to be back before dark. Don’t worry. I will be back. That’s a promise.’
Eadulf was about to protest again but she had turned and was gone.
Fidelma left the abbey and walked quickly across the great square, down the series of streets with which she was now familiar. In this part of the city, away from the main commercial centre, there were few people about and only one or two riders on horseback. An occasional wagon trundled by, passing through the narrow thoroughfares. Those people who passed gave her a courteous nod or muttered a greeting.
It was not long before she turned into the broad street that she knew led to the Square of Benignus and Lady Beretrude’s villa. On the top right-hand side of the street was the shop which sold dresses and other garments. The place was easy to find. She was confident that she could obtain some local clothes here with which to disguise herself. Clothes were hanging up, presumably ready for sale, dresses, scarves, skirts, cloaks, all manner of items. Fidelma hesitated on the doorstep and peered into the darkness behind. An elderly woman rose from her chair, laying aside a garment, and said something to her in the guttural language of the Burgunds. Fidelma presumed it was a greeting or merely a question of what she wanted.
‘Do you speak Latin?’ she asked.
It was the old woman’s turn to look puzzled.
Fidelma tried her basic Saxon with similar results. Then she pointed to some hanging garments.
‘I want to buy some clothes,’ she said slowly.
The old woman stared at her, looking her up and down with curiosity, for although her clothing was not that of the religieuse of the abbey, she wore her crucifix, and the manner of her robes indicated she was a religieuse.
Fidelma realised that communication was going to be difficult. Again she pointed to a dress which she considered might be useful and raised her eyebrows in interrogation.
‘How much?’ She used Saxon again, thinking the simple words were probably the same.
The Council of the Cursed Page 28
