‘We know that on the night of the killing, she had sent a signal to one of the brethren to meet her, and it was that action which set off the events leading to the discovery of the scene in Bishop Ordgar’s chambers. We need to question her about this as being pertinent to our investigation.’
For a moment Abbess Audofleda looked uncertain.
‘Contact between the sisterhood and the brethren is forbidden,’ she said woodenly.
‘Nevertheless, it happened,’ Fidelma assured her. ‘By the way, when did this Rule of segregation of the sexes and the ideas of celibacy come into force in this abbey?’
The abbatissa looked surprised at the sudden change of subject. She answered defensively.
‘One year ago, not long after Leodegar became bishop and brought his teachings here.’
‘And you were already abbess here?’
‘I was invited to take charge here by the bishop after the decision had been made. He could not find a suitable superior among the sisterhood, so he asked me to come from Divio to take over. It is the duty of the community to obey their bishop and the Rule was made clear. Our people should not question the Rule. But these questions are irrelevant to…’
‘To the matter of Sister Valretrade,’ Fidelma said brightly. ‘I am sorry. I have let natural curiosity overcome me. Now, I would like to speak with her.’
Abbess Audofleda’s thin lips twitched. ‘That is impossible.’
‘I have been assured by Bishop Leodegar that the entire community will co-operate with my enquiry,’ Fidelma cautioned.
‘It is neither a matter of co-operation nor lack of it. Sister Valretrade is no longer part of this community. She is not here.’
‘Not here?’
‘Not here,’ affirmed the abbess.
‘Then perhaps you can inform us where she is?’
‘I cannot be specific.’
‘Try,’ Fidelma pressed a little sarcastically.
‘Then she might well be anywhere. A week ago she left here, saying that she could no longer accept the Rule.’
Fidelma tried to hide her disappointment. ‘When did you say she left?’
‘A week ago.’
‘Was she sent away in punishment for contacting Brother Sigeric?’
‘Punishment? I do not know this Brother Sigeric.’
Fidelma raised an eyebrow slightly. ‘You did not know that she was in love with a young man in the abbey?’
‘I only knew that she was distracted from her duties here. Had I known, I would have reported the matter to the bishop so that he could discipline the young man for enticing Valretrade from her bond to the Faith.’
‘You say you do not know Brother Sigeric. Are you denying that he came to the Domus Femini a few days ago to find out where Sister Valretrade was?’
A crimson hue spread over Abbess Audofleda’s features.
‘Excuse me, abbatissa.’ It was Sister Radegund who spoke nervously from the door before she could say anything. ‘I did not wish to bring the matter to your attention, as you have been so busy, but a young man did come to our door-a young religieux. He demanded to know where Sister Valretrade was. When I told him to go away, he grew insistent, and I informed him that she had left the Domus Femini and was no longer in our charge. He was very insistent and I had to close the door on him. I was reluctant to bother you at the time, and until the matter was mentioned just now I had forgotten all about it.’
‘Did the young man mention his name to you?’ demanded the abbess of her steward.
‘I do not think so, abbatissa.’
The woman turned back to Fidelma with a triumphant expression. ‘So, you see, we have not heard of this Brother Sigeric.’
‘Why do you think Valretrade left the Domus Femini?’ Fidelma asked coldly. ‘And given that she was so “distracted”, in your words, by this young man, did she not tell him that she was leaving?’
‘I am not here to speculate about the workings of a young girl’s mind. Perhaps she is with this young man of whom you speak. Find him and you may find her.’
‘If he was with her, he would hardly have come to the abbey seeking her,’ Fidelma pointed out.
‘So maybe she had come to her senses and realised she should leave him,’ the other woman retorted.
‘So you offer no reason why she left?’
‘Reason? I am afraid that you do not understand the Rule by which I govern this community. She left because she could not abide that Rule.’
‘So she left, and did not even tell the person who seemed to matter most to her that she was leaving.’ Eadulf’s tone was reflective.
‘The person who mattered most?’ The pale face that turned to him was full of disdain. ‘I am the person who matters most in this community.’
Fidelma pointed to the crucifix that hung on the wall behind the Abbess Audofleda.
‘I thought that there was a more important Being in a religious house before Whom everyone was equal,’ she said.
Abbess Audofleda’s cheeks coloured again, this time with anger.
‘The girl disobeyed the Rule! Had she remained here, she would have been chastised for her transgressions. It was her self-interest that caused her flight!’
‘“Whatever you do to the least of My brethren, you do to Me”,’ Eadulf muttered audibly.
‘I have wasted enough time.’ Abbess Audofleda rose and looked across to Sister Radegund. ‘Show these…these visitors out. We have finished.’
Eadulf followed Fidelma who had said nothing further but turned to leave. He had reached the door when the abbess, unable to restrain herself, shouted after them: ‘And I will see that Bishop Leodegar knows of your insults. He has had men flogged for less.’
Fidelma hesitated, and then shook her head quickly in Eadulf’s direction, indicating that he should say nothing further.
Once outside the oak doors of the women’s community, the couple breathed deeply to release their sense of frustration. They then began to walk slowly across the courtyard towards the wagonway.
‘And this woman is the abbatissa of the community?’ Eadulf marvelled. ‘I pity the poor girls in her charge.’
‘I pity Sister Valretrade. With such a superior, I think I too would also leave,’ Fidelma replied. ‘By the way, we must tread carefully. I don’t think we should take her threats lightly.’
‘Threats? About my being flogged?’ Eadulf was unconvinced.
‘Remember that we are in a different country with different customs,’ urged Fidelma. ‘While we have dispensation to conduct this investigation, it is only because it is of a political use to Bishop Leodegar. We are without real authority and we are vulnerable.’
‘Leodegar would not dare,’ asserted Eadulf.
‘He might well. By throwing that threat at us, Audofleda has revealed that Bishop Leodegar has used this power before.’
‘But to take a religious and have them flogged for no reason…’
‘Oh, they would find a reason. I think we should make sure that Brother Sigeric is warned as well. I would not put it past Audofleda to report the matter to Leodegar.’
They halted by the blocked-up entrance halfway down the wagonway and Eadulf glanced up at the grey walls behind them.
‘I have never known a place that exudes such deep melancholy. I was thinking about what Brother Gillucán told you that he heard.’
‘What made you think of that?’
‘The fact that he was in the necessarium, one wall of which backs on to this Domus Femini. That was where he claimed he heard the sound of souls in torment. I can well believe that he heard sounds of lamentation from the poor women enclosed in that place.’
Fidelma realised that Eadulf was being darkly humourous, but her eyes suddenly widened.
‘Children!’ she exclaimed. ‘Of course!’
Eadulf looked at her in surprise.
‘Were we not told that the wives of the brethren here, and their children, were taken to live in the Domus Femini? Wives and children
that the brethren were forced to put from them-that was the phrase.’
Eadulf nodded slowly.
‘Don’t you see?’ Fidelma went on. ‘If Audofleda governs so badly, perhaps Gillucán did hear those children wailing in anguish.’
‘You mean she is ill treating the children?’
Under the law of the Brehons, ill treatment of children was not merely condemned but punishable. Until the age of their maturity, the honour price of children was placed, under the laws, as the honour price of a chieftain or a bishop no matter who their parents were-that was seven cumals, the value of twenty-one cows. So such a thing seemed impossible.
‘As I have said, Eadulf, we are in a different culture here, but nonetheless I indeed to pursue this and discover the truth, even though I have recourse to no local law or authority.’
‘I can’t see how you are going to do that,’ he rejoined. ‘There is no returning through that door.’
‘Then I will have to find another way inside,’ Fidelma replied calmly.
‘You are not going back on your own.’
Fidelma was amused. ‘I hardly think you will be able to fade into the background in a house of women, Eadulf.’
He suddenly stiffened and drew her back into the shadow of the arched recess.
‘What…?’ she began to protest.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘Sister Radegund has just left the Domus Femini. Look…but carefully!’
The tall woman was moving rapidly across the courtyard, heading towards the main square. In fact, she was moving so quickly that she was almost running, with her head-dress and robes flowing out behind her. The two watchers pressed back in the shadows, waiting until she had passed them. She had already crossed the square by the time they had emerged, and they saw her disappearing down a street towards the city buildings.
‘Where is she off to in such a hurry?’ murmured Eadulf.
‘Let’s find out,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Come on. We must not lose her.’
Before he could protest, she had set off across the square, almost trotting to keep up with the woman. There were plenty of people about, but no one seemed interested in them, so Fidelma and Eadulf hurried on down the darkened streets without challenge.
Sister Radegund seemed so intent upon her errand that she did not pause or glance backward once. That was just as well for her followers. She moved through several streets, each one a little more narrow than the last, and soon the odours that had assailed them when they first arrived in the city began to rise around them. Sewerage ran here and there, and thin feral cats and slavering dogs fought over the refuse in the gutters.
Sister Radegund suddenly ducked into a broad street. Along this street were several premises of traders. It was clearly a major thoroughfare. They saw her enter a building where clothes were hanging outside as if on display, as well as a number of animal skins.
‘It looks like a…’ Fidelma paused, trying to find the right word ‘…a place where a seamstress does her work.’
They moved cautiously towards the building and Fidelma took a quick glance through the open door. Sister Radegund was standing with her back to the door and an elderly woman was bending over a bundle of cloth. The old woman’s eyes luckily were not focused on the door. Fidelma gestured to Eadulf to follow her back a few yards to where there was a dark space between the buildings; here they could pause without being seen in the open street.
‘It seems that Sister Radegund is simply on a mission to buy some cloth,’ Fidelma said in disappointment. ‘I have obviously become too suspicious.’ Just then, she heard someone saying something along the street and then the clatter of wooden-soled shoes followed. She chanced another quick look round the corner of the building.
‘Radegund is off again. Her journey is not yet over,’ she said to Eadulf. ‘Let us stay with her.’
Head still slightly downward, Sister Radegund was continuing her journey with the same intensity as when she had left the Domus Femini. They followed at a reasonable distance but there seemed little chance of the stewardess looking back towards them. When she disappeared around the next corner, they followed and found that the broad thoroughfare had opened into a large square. In the centre was yet another ornate fountain, gushing and splashing. A few dogs were lapping around the base.
Fidelma and Eadulf halted at the entrance to the square, sheltering in the corner of a building.
Sister Radegund had hurried across the cobbles straight to the gates in a high wall that fronted a building on the far side. A giant of a man, a warrior armed with sword and spear, stood outside. While he had breast armour, he wore no hat and his head was a tousled mess of blond, almost white, curls that merged into a heavy beard which came to his chest. He nodded pleasantly to Sister Radegund as if he knew her and without a word turned and tapped upon the wooden gate with his free hand. They heard three distinct blows followed by two more rapid ones. The gate opened almost at once and Sister Radegund slipped inside. The gate closed immediately.
There was a rattle of wheels behind them and a man came along the thoroughfare pushing a handcart loaded with various iron goods. He was a heavily built fellow, and by his dress he was a tradesman of sorts. As they stood hesitantly on the corner, unsure of what to do next, he greeted them in a friendly fashion.
‘Are you lost?’ He spoke in the local language that, to Eadulf’s ear, sounded strangely akin to his own Saxon speech, for he seemed to understand the sense of it. He tried a response in Saxon and, to his surprise, the man replied.
‘I spent time among your people. My father was a ship’s captain. Now-are you lost?’
‘We are unsure of where we are,’ Eadulf told him. ‘What is this square?’
‘This is called the Square of Benignus.’
‘Benignus?’ queried Eadulf, thinking he had misheard. ‘You mean “the Square of the Benign”?’
The man set down his cart and flexed his hands as if to help the circulation.
‘No, my friend. Of Benignus,’ he said. ‘You are obviously strangers here. Benignus was a holy martyr who was born in this city before going to spread the word of the Faith in the old city of Divio many centuries ago. The square was named after him for it is said it was on this very square that he lived.’
‘Ask him who that big house belongs to-the one guarded by the warrior,’ Fidelma said to Eadulf.
‘Whose fine villa is that then?’ Eadulf asked the carter. ‘And why is it guarded by a warrior?’
‘That is the villa of the Lady Beretrude, mother of the lord of this territory. She is benefactor to the city and the most powerful person in these parts.’
‘Eadulf!’ interrupted Fidelma with a soft warning. She had just noticed a man exit from the very house they were talking about. He was clad in religious robes and raised a hand in familiar farewell to the warrior. Then he was striding across the square towards them.
It was too late to move. He had seen them.
‘Sister Fidelma! Brother Eadulf!’ he hailed. ‘What are you doing here?’ Brother Budnouen halted before them, smiling broadly.
‘We were lost and this man was giving us directions,’ Eadulf explained hastily.
‘You must be lost, indeed, to be in this area of the city,’ replied the jovial Gaul.
The man with the cart had touched his forehead in salute.
‘I am glad that you have found your friend,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You will be able to get to where you wanted now.’ He heaved his cart up and moved on his way.
‘And where was it you wanted to get to?’ asked Brother Budnouen.
‘Back to the abbey,’ Fidelma said hastily. ‘We had gone for a walk to explore the city and must have taken a wrong turning somewhere.’
‘I forget that you are unused to large towns in your lands. Well, have no concerns for I am going back to the abbey myself.’
‘We don’t want to take you out of your way at all,’ Eadulf said. ‘We looked for you in the abbey but have not seen you th
ere.’
Brother Budnouen shook his head. ‘You will not. For I do not stay with Bishop Leodegar’s community. I stay with a friend in the city, just off the square before the abbey.’
‘Speaking of squares, that is a curious one,’ Eadulf said slyly, turning back to the square behind them. ‘That man with the cart thought we were looking for the villa of some lady or other. What was her name? Bertrude…no-Beretrude.’ He pointed at the villa from which Brother Budnouen had just emerged and hoped the Gaul had not realised that they had noticed him coming from there. ‘He told us that she lived there. Why would he assume we were looking for her?’ He looked innocently at the Gaul.
Brother Budnouen seemed thoughtful.
‘I suppose it is a logical mistake, since Lady Beretrude is the most prominent person here in the city,’ he said. ‘She is mother of the lord of this territory-Lord Guntram-and is a very influential lady. Perhaps the man thought strangers wandering in this part of the city would naturally be seeking her out.’
He volunteered no further information and Eadulf realised that for some reason he was not going to admit any connection with either the woman or the villa.
‘The man was telling us that the square has a connection with a holy martyr.’
Brother Budnouen raised an eyebrow. ‘He was a loquacious fellow, that fellow with the cart,’ he observed softly. Eadulf wondered if there was a hint of suspicion in his voice.
Fidelma said hurriedly: ‘He was quite helpful, although we had to rely on interpretation through Eadulf’s own tongue. The man seemed quite proud of this local martyr.’ She mentally forgave herself the lie.
‘It is certainly a matter of great local controversy,’ said Brother Budnouen. ‘You refer to Benignus, of course.’
‘Controversy?’
‘Some say that Polycarp of Smyrna sent this saintly man called Benignus to Divio…’
‘Divio?’ Fidelma frowned. ‘This place has been mentioned before.’
‘It’s about seventy kilometres to the north east of here. The city is in the old territory of the Lingones, once a great people of Gaul. Benignus was sent to teach them the Faith. Now the Burgunds claim Benignus as one of their own. The story is that he was martyred and the common people worshipped at his grave. Then Bishop Gregory of Lingonum, who disliked Benignus, tried to stop this worship. But Autun and two other towns have equal claim on this blessed martyr, with each insisting that they hold his true grave and his relics. An argument began over who had the prior claim. One hundred years ago, accounts called De Gloria Martyrum started to be circulated in which all these claims were put forward and argued. Each town called the other’s claims falsifications and lies. In this city, he is supposed to be buried in the necropolis under the abbey, but in Lingonum an entire basilica building has been erected over a tomb that is claimed as Benignus’ last resting-place.’ Brother Budnouen chuckled suddenly. ‘The place was actually built by the same Bishop Gregory who had first claimed that the tomb was that of a heathen and not the martyr. They say he changed his mind when he saw how much money was to be made from the pilgrims who flocked to pray there.’
The Council of the Cursed sf-19 Page 14
