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 ar
e 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 old woman held up her hand, one finger raised as if in admonishment before turning to a door at the back of the room and calling to someone inside.
There was a movement and a young religieuse came in.
Although they had only met in darkness by the light of the candle, Fidelma recognised the girl at the same time that she recognised Fidelma.
‘Sister Inginde. I did not know you were allowed to leave the Domus Femini?’
The young girl regarded her in surprise for a moment or two and then her features re-formed in a smile of greeting.
‘Sister Fidelma! This is my aunt. I was given special permission to visit her, as she has not been well lately.’
‘Indeed?’
‘What brings you here, Sister Fidelma? Have you news of Valretrade?’
Fidelma decided to answer the second question first.
‘I have no news but I have not given up. And, as a matter of fact, I came here to buy some clothes.’
Sister Inginde looked puzzled. ‘My aunt does not generally make clothes for the religious, although she does some mending for us.’
‘It is not religious clothes I want,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I want something in which I can move freely about the city so that none may know my true identity.’
The girl regarded her curiously.
‘I need some simple clothing that may help me pass without comment in a place where I can find out some necessary information,’ Fidelma explained further.
‘Then by all means, we must help you.’ Inginde spoke rapidly to her aunt. The old woman regarded Fidelma critically. Then she said a few words. Sister Inginde nodded as if in agreement. ‘My aunt says that you should not wear colours that are too bright. Your hair is red and that is bright enough. She advises some sombre colours, a dress, and a cloak with a hood to cover your hair.’
The old woman took a drab brown dress from a peg and held it against Fidelma’s body.
‘My aunt thinks that it is your size,’ explained the young woman.
Some more items of clothing were chosen and Fidelma was able to change into them, using a scarf and hood to disguise her red hair and fair skin.
Sister Inginde looked on with approval.
‘There, you may wander the streets of the city freely without exciting interest.’
Fidelma regarded her reflection in the mirror that the elder woman held before her.
‘It will do,’ she conceded. She had kept her cross under her clothing and she pointed to her ciorbolg, her comb bag that contained some toilet articles that all the women of her country used. ‘I will take that with me but leave my clothes and pick them up when I have done.’
‘Where are you going?’ Sister Inginde asked curiously.
‘Better if you did not know,’ replied Fidelma.
The young woman seemed concerned. ‘Perhaps I can help,’ she pressed.
Fidelma shook her head. ‘You will surely be expected back at the Domus Femini. How much do I owe your aunt for the clothing?’
The girl spoke rapidly to the old woman.
‘My aunt says that there is no payment since you are helping to find a friend of mine. She will keep your own clothes here until your return.’
Fidelma thanked them both and left the shop, proceeding with a leisurely gait, head bent forward a little, as she had seen the women in the city do, and headed down the street in the direction of Lady Beretrude’s villa.
Two or three people passed with a nod or called out a greeting in the local tongue that Fidelma could now recognise and could respond to. She began to feel easy in her disguise.
At the Square of Benignus, she looked beyond the splashing fountain to the gates of the villa. The symbol on the stone pillars on each side of the gates reinforced her suspicion. The single sentinel stood there as usual. Fidelma walked slowly across the square, trying to maintain her leisurely pace as if she were heading for the side street that skirted the high wall of the villa.
The street seemed deserted-but then she heard the sound of running footsteps across the square. A man’s voice called out in challenge. Then the gate was opened and some voices were raised. She stood still for a few moments but no one appeared, no one followed her. After a while she began to walk along the entire length of the villa’s outer wall. At one point she noticed an iron-barred gate, set in an arched entrance in the wall. It must have been through here that Verbas brought his charges when they disturbed Eadulf. Glancing round quickly, she tested that it was locked, before continuing on. With the gate locked, there seemed no way through
or over the outer wall into the grounds of the villa without being seen.
She was beginning to think that her plan to reconnoitre the villa was not going to be a success-certainly not unless she could get inside. There was no way to sneak into the villa, and even if she could persuade one of the servants to let her in, what language could she use to communicate with them? Having decided to walk round the villa and return along the other side, she soon reached the narrow alley at the back. Here she hoped to find another means of entrance, so that she could double back to the place where Eadulf had seen Verbas taking his prisoners. However, there was nothing-no gate, not even a place where one might scale the wall.
As she came to the end of the path, she was aware of menacing shadows on either side of the exit. Several men suddenly launched themselves at her. As she turned to attempt to flee, there was a moment of pain at the back of her skull and then everything went black.
Eadulf was pacing the calefactorium, pausing every now and then to glance up at the darkening sky.
Abbot Ségdae had been talking to one of his delegation and now finally turned to address Eadulf.
‘Brother Eadulf, is something troubling you? I swear that if you continue to pace with such vigour, you will wear a groove in the stones beneath your feet.’
Eadulf paused in mid-stride.
‘It is Fidelma,’ he said in a low voice. ‘The hour is growing late and she has not returned to the abbey.’
‘She has a will of her own, as you well know, my son,’ Abbot Ségdae pointed out. ‘Is there a reason why she should have returned at this time?’
‘I fear that something might have happened to her,’ Eadulf murmured, leaning forward. ‘She left the abbey this afternoon to go to see the Lady Beretrude. Well, not exactly to see her but to look over her villa without being observed.’
The Council of the Cursed sf-19 Page 28
