The Council of the Cursed

by Peter Tremayne

  The women were forced in a shuffling movement over the cobbled street.

  ‘I am relying on you,’ Fidelma whispered to her companion. ‘Tell me when we approach the next small alley. We must run as we have never run before.’

  Valretrade nodded surreptitiously.

  They had traversed two streets, working their way from the villa and into a complex of intersections, when she said: ‘Down this street, on the right-hand side is a small alleyway. It is like a maze, criss-crossing and with sometimes barely room for one person.’

  Fidelma moved closer to her and gripped her hand. ‘We will move together when I give the word.’ Her voice was firm.

  ‘Together,’ agreed Valretrade quietly.

  The alley loomed up in the semi-gloom too quickly for second thoughts. As they reached it, Fidelma snapped, ‘Now!’ and the two women suddenly leaped for its dark mouth. Holding hands to make the manacle more easily handled, they started running down the cobbled way. Behind them they could hear shouts and screams.

  It had been well after midnight when Brother Chilperic had returned from his mission to report that the major domus at Lady Beretrude’s villa had informed him that Sister Fidelma had not been seen. By the sound of it, the man had not even consulted his mistress but had cavalierly dismissed Brother Chilperic at the gates of the villa. This was exactly what Eadulf had feared.

  It was Abbot Ségdae who had prevented Eadulf from going directly to the villa himself.

  ‘It is no good. And if you think that the major domus is lying and, indeed, that Lady Beretrude is involved, then it could be dangerous for you as well as Fidelma.’

  ‘But what can we do?’ asked Eadulf in anguish.

  ‘Let us wait until daylight. Things are always so much clearer in the morning hours. You need the rest.’

  ‘Little rest I’ll be getting,’ muttered Eadulf.

  ‘Relax and meditate. After the morning prayers we shall tell Bishop Leodegar that we mean to go to the villa and demand to see Beretrude.’

  It was after some intense discussion and still with much reluctance that Eadulf agreed to return to the hospitia to rest. It is true that sleep did not come easily to him but, nonetheless, it came eventually and when he awoke it was just past dawn and a distant bell was ringing for the morning prayers.

  As Fidelma and Valretrade ran into the darkened alley, the other women, seeing what had happened, began to block off the entrance with their milling bodies while the guards tried to get into the alley to pursue the escapees. Frustrated by the women in their way, the warriors started to lash out. Verbas of Peqini shouted useless instructions but then, two of the guards broke through and started to run after the pair.

  Fidelma and Valretrade moved as quickly as they dared in the darkness of the confined space.

  ‘Do you know where this alley leads?’ gasped Fidelma, as they came to a maze of small passageways.

  ‘Yes. Not far now. I know where we can hide,’ replied her companion.

  Then Valretrade twisted and turned through the dark passageways until Fidelma was hopelessly confused and had to put her faith entirely in the hands of the young woman.

  Suddenly she halted, breathing hard, in front of a wooden gate set in the black stone wall.

  ‘Here we are!’ She reached for the latch and it gave with a groaning sound of wood against wood.

  She went through it, dragging Fidelma with her. Then she thrust the gate shut behind them.

  Fidelma saw that they were in a small yard; a few chickens clucked irritably but were not particularly disturbed while a tethered goat gazed at them with an expression that seemed to imply it resented their intrusion.

  ‘There’s a hay pile there,’ gestured Valretrade. ‘Let’s catch our breath.’

  They flung themselves down in a dark corner away from the gate.

  It was not a moment too soon, as heavy footsteps pounded by. They could hear the stertorous grunt of the guards who had been chasing them, then the sound faded away. The women crouched in the corner listening, but the tethered goat had grown restless and its movements had disturbed the chickens that now decided to protest. Suddenly, a door opened and the figure of a muscular man appeared with a lantern in one hand and a large blacksmith’s hammer in the other.

  ‘Come out, you thieves!’ he called. ‘Careful, for I am armed.’

  The light fell on them in the corner.

  ‘Come out!’ he called again.

  It was Valretrade who moved first. ‘Ageric–it is I!’ she called softly.

  The man stepped forward, the lantern raised. ‘By the holy powers! Valretrade?’

  The girl moved swiftly and caught him by the arm.

  ‘Quickly, let us go inside and douse the light. Be as quiet as possible. There are pursuers near by. I have a friend with me.’ Her words came out in a breathless whisper.

  The man did not say anything more but turned and went inside the house, with Valretrade and Fidelma following. Once they were inside, he bolted the door.

  ‘Who is it, Ageric? What is happening?’ A woman entered from the adjoining room and paused when her eyes fell on them.

  ‘Valretrade!’ She grasped the girl in an embrace. As Valretrade went to respond, the woman saw the manacles that linked her with Fidelma, and she stepped back, eyes wide. The man had now set the lantern on a table. He heard the gasp and turned to see the reason for it.

  ‘By the holy icons!’ he muttered. ‘Have you run away from the abbey?’

  ‘It is a long story. This is Fidelma from Hibernia,’ Valretrade said, indicating her companion. ‘We must speak in Latin for she does not understand our Burgund tongue. Fidelma, this is my sister, Magnatrude and her husband Ageric.’

  ‘I am afraid I know little of your language,’ Fidelma apologised.

  Algeric strained to understand her and then said: ‘My wife and I have Latin. It is a lingua franca still among us, for this was once a province of the empire. Most people who have had some learning speak it a little.’

  Fidelma was relieved.

  Magnatrude was examining them with a worried expression Her features bore a strong resemblance to Valretrade’s except that she was a few years older than her sister. Her husband was of the same age, a big man with strong shoulders and dark hair. There was something humorous about his expression, as though he were permanently amused with the world.

  ‘What has happened? Why have you run away from the abbey? Why did they manacle you?’

  Valretrade shook her head. ‘It’s a story long in the telling, sister. The truth is that I didn’t run away. I was…we were…being taken to be sold as slaves. We escaped.’

  Ageric stared at her in amazement. ‘Sold as slaves? Have slavers raided the abbey, then?’

  Valretrade smiled bitterly. ‘I said it would be long in the telling. But two important things first. Can you remove these manacles, Ageric? And is there something to drink and eat? We can then tell you the story as we proceed.’

  Magnatrude at once set about the refreshment while her husband examined the manacles critically.

  ‘Not a hard job,’ he said, inspecting the lock. Then he turned and left them, going into another room.

  ‘Ageric is a blacksmith,’ Valretrade reminded Fidelma.

  ‘One of the best in the city,’ confirmed her elder sister, returning with beakers filled with cider and some bread and goat’s cheese.

  As they drained their beakers, Ageric came back with several keys in his hands.

  ‘No need to even break the locks, nor saw through the chains. I believe one of these will do the task.’

  As he sat down and started to pick at the locks, Valretrade quickly told their story while they nibbled on the welcome bread and cheese. By the time Valretrade had ended, the manacle and chain lay on the ground. It was well past dawn and the bird chorus had died away.

  ‘But if Bishop Leodegar and the Lady Beretrude are part of the conspiracy to sell the women off as slaves,’ commented Magnatrude, ‘who is there t
o appeal to for justice?’

  ‘The only thing for you to do is to hide up for today and then leave the city tonight and get to some other place where the writ of Beretrude and her family and of Leodegar does not run,’ advised Ageric.

  Valretrade did not look happy.

  ‘Leave the city I grew up in? Leave you, my relatives? And what of poor Sigeric? It is not a good choice.’

  Magnatrude looked at Fidelma who had been following the conversation without comment.

  ‘You are from Hibernia. You will want to go back there. Why not take our sister with you? I hear that life is good there. Perhaps Sigeric can follow later.’

  Fidelma sighed. ‘I am afraid that my duty is to remain in Autun for a while yet.’

  ‘Your duty?’ asked Ageric.

  It was difficult to explain to them that she was a dálaigh, an advocate of the laws of her people, and what that entailed.

  ‘There is someone I need to get in touch with in the abbey,’ she began.

  ‘Sigeric?’ asked Valretrade eagerly.

  ‘Not Sigeric; not yet. I need to contact Brother Eadulf, but it would be hopeless to return to the abbey and seek him out. There are too many enemies about and I would doubtless be captured before I came near him.’ She looked speculatively at Ageric. ‘Are you known at the abbey, Ageric?’

  The blacksmith looked startled. ‘Not exactly. I used to work for the old abbot before Leodegar took over, but I have not been there for some years now. All my business is in the town.’

  ‘Then you might not be recognised as the brother-in-law of Valretrade?’

  ‘I doubt if anyone knows that,’ he agreed.

  ‘It would help, Ageric, if you went to the abbey and sought out Brother Eadulf in order to give him a message. But don’t make it obvious if you can avoid it.’

  ‘If I am questioned, I could say that I went to see if the abbey had work for a blacksmith,’ he volunteered.

  ‘Good. If you can speak to Eadulf alone, tell him that I want him to return here with you. Of course, ensure that you are not followed. If you have to speak to him with others in the vicinity, tell him that you had heard Alchú misses him and arrange to speak alone with him. Remember the name…Alchú. He will know that you have come from me.’

  Ageric repeated the name.

  Fidelma glanced at Valretrade and caught her in mid-yawn. She was sympathetic for she, too, was exhausted by the recent events.

  ‘We had little sleep last night,’ she explained, ‘so while you go to the abbey, we shall rest awhile.’

  Magnatrude took her sister’s arm in sympathy.

  ‘You may use our bed for the time being until you have thought out what it is you want to do.’

  It was Fidelma who asked: ‘Does anyone at the abbey know that Valretrade is your sister?’ She was worried in case Beretrude was able to trace them to her sister’s home.

  ‘It is some time since I have seen my little sister, so I have had no cause to speak of her to anyone recently.’

  Valretrade yawned again. She was almost asleep on her feet.

  In fact, both Fidelma and Valretrade were fast asleep by the time Ageric the Blacksmith left on his errand to the abbey.

  It seemed that Fidelma had not been asleep but a moment when she felt her shoulder being roughly shaken. She came awake abruptly, heart pounding. Valretrade was already moving from the bed while Magnatrude was still shaking Fidelma.

  ‘Lady Beretrude’s warriors are coming along the alley,’ she hissed. ‘There’s no time to lose. Follow me.’

  She turned and led the way into what was apparently a storeroom off Ageric’s workshop and forge. She went straight to a corner and bent down. Already they could hear the tramp of the warriors at the gate outside the building. Magnatrude pulled up a trapdoor and pointed down.

  ‘A souterrain. I can think of no other hiding place. There is no more time.’

  A harsh voice was calling, demanding entrance.

  Fidelma dropped down into the dark food storage area and crawled further back so that Valretrade could follow her. A moment later the trapdoor swung shut and they were in total darkness. It was cold. Black and cold. Fidelma shivered at the sudden change from the warm bed to this icy darkness.

  She heard something move over the trapdoor and guessed Magnatrude was trying to obscure the entrance by placing some object on top.

  A moment passed before they heard the harsh voices again and Magnatrude’s tones replying.

  ‘My sister? I haven’t seen her for over a year or so. She is a religieuse up at the abbey. Why don’t you try there?’

  The harsh voice replied.

  Fidelma could not follow much of the conversation even though it was conducted in Latin. It was too muffled.

  There was a lot of movement above them. It was obvious the warriors were looking around. Then voices were close by. They were very clear. Fidelma’s jaw tightened as she waited for the trapdoor to be discovered. Suddenly she recognised the voice of one of the speakers, and shuddered. It was Verbas of Peqini. She was thankful that his common language with Beretrude’s guards was Latin so that she could understand what was said. Verbas was not happy.

  ‘This means another delay,’ he was complaining. ‘Why didn’t the Lady Beretrude tell me that one of the prisoners was this Fidelma of Cashel! I knew the cunning vixen. I would have taken a special care of her.’

  There was an apologetic cough and a gruff voice said: ‘My lady did not know you knew the foreigner, lord.’

  ‘Well, I am forced to leave now. It is up to Beretrude to kill or recapture that troublemaker. I would have liked to have done so myself, but I have a boat waiting on the river. It takes many days to navigate down to the southern sea and my ship. I cannot wait for ever.’

  ‘A cargo of slaves fetches a good price, lord, so surely it is worth the wait until these women are recaptured?’

  ‘And your mistress has collected a good price,’ muttered Verbas of Peqini. ‘No, I cannot wait any longer.’

  His voice died away and it was obvious that the men had moved towards the door. It seemed an eternity before Magnatrude’s voice came from above them.

  ‘They have gone. Are you both all right?’

  ‘We are cold and it is dark down here,’ Valretrade called back.

  ‘I am sorry, but it is best to leave you there for a short time in case they return to catch us out. I will let you up as soon as I think it is safe.’

  Fidelma thought the woman was wise.

  ‘Let us up as soon as you can,’ Valretrade shivered. She was clearly not enjoying the confinement.

  A good hour or so later, Magnatrude returned. She removed whatever it was covering the trap door and pulled it open, then helped Valretrade first from the narrow confines and then Fidelma.

  ‘Your warning was very timely,’ Fidelma told her as she stretched to get her blood circulating again.

  ‘It was a lucky thing that this house has an upper floor and I was there in time to see the warriors approaching from the top of the lane,’ Magnatrude told them grimly.

  Valretrade was trembling, more from the effects of being in the claustrophobic souterrain than from near recapture by Lady Beretrude’s warriors.

  ‘Have they gone?’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course,’ replied her sister. ‘But not before a thorough search of this place.’ She suddenly went pale.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Fidelma in alarm.

  ‘The manacles!’ Magnatrude stared with wide eyes. ‘What if…?’ She scanned the workroom. ‘Ageric brought them in here.’

  Fidelma pointed with a smile.

  ‘They say that the best way to hide something is to leave it in plain view.’

  The workroom of the smith had several nails and hooks along one wall from which an assortment of chains and other devices were hanging. Among them Ageric had hung up the manacles and chain from which he had released Fidelma and Valretrade. They were so obvious that the warriors would not have taken any notice of
them, thinking they were just part of the smith’s equipment.

  ‘Don’t worry, Magnatrude. As soon as Eadulf gets here, we will not trespass on you much longer and put you in fear of this Beretrude.’

  Magnatrude shook her head. ‘You mistake my fear. My sister Valretrade is the only relative I have. I will do anything to protect her.’

  ‘They say Beretrude has the second sight.’ Valretrade was still nervous. ‘How did she know to send her warriors here?’

  ‘Second sight?’ Fidelma was disapproving. ‘For shame–and you a Sister of the Faith. Beretrude must have known or been told that Magnatrude was your blood sister. There is no mystery to it. But she has been remarkably well informed.’

  ‘I told only my close friends like Sigeric and Inginde.’

  ‘Not Sister Radegund?’

  ‘Radegund knew as steward.’ The girl looked deflated. ‘She is Beretrude’s niece. I should have realised.’

  Magnatrude led them back to the other room and offered them a bowl of hot broth.

  ‘The Lady Beretrude is said to have spies everywhere. She is a powerful woman. More powerful than her sons.’

  ‘Her sons? Oh, you include the younger son who was sent away when he was young. I have spoken to Guntram,’ Fidelma added, explaining her knowledge.

  ‘Guntram is the elder son and technically, the ruler. In reality, it is Beretrude who controls this province,’ replied Magnatrude.

  ‘What of the other son?’

  ‘No one knows what happened to him. He was sent away from home when he was young to enter the religious.’

  ‘Do you know the story?’ asked Fidelma curiously.

  ‘Gundobad was his name, I believe. The story is that he went into the abbey there when he was seven years old because his mother rejected him. She wanted to lavish her attention on Guntram, being the heir to the lordship of Burgundia, but only succeeded in spoiling him and making him indolent.’

  Magnatrude offered them more broth but sleep was catching up with them again.

  ‘Let’s hope Ageric returns with Eadulf soon.’ Fidelma noticed that Valretrade had already fallen asleep again. But she herself was too nervous to sleep, and just wished Eadulf would come. However, she must have fallen asleep in spite of herself, for the next thing she knew, she awoke to hear Eadulf’s anxious voice. Ageric had returned with him.