Peter Tremayne - The Devil's seal

Brother Madagan sighed. ‘That was the problem. He did not. He simply said that this deputation was coming to Cashel and required the attendance of the abbot. It was nothing short of an order.’

‘Did he mention that he had called at Cill Náile and requested the presence of Abbess Líoch?’

‘That he did not mention. I later heard it from Brother Rónán.’

‘And what did Brother Rónán have to say?’

‘I think he was as frustrated as we were. He had not been privy to the discussions with Bishop Arwald when the deputation was at Fearna. So he could not even tell us what had been discussed. I think he was grateful when, having guided Brother Cerdic to Imleach, he was able to set out to return to Fearna.’

‘And Brother Cerdic was not forthcoming at all on his journey with you and the abbot?’

‘When he spoke, it was as if he were commanding servants to do his bidding. That was what caused my anger.’

‘So he had the ability to anger people?’ pressed Eadulf.

‘Had he been killed anywhere outside of Cashel, I would not have been surprised.’

‘What do you mean?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘Simply that some people might have taken offence at his manner, as did I.’ Brother Madagan was gloomy. ‘Let us pray that this bishop is not as hateful as his messenger.’

‘Did Brother Cerdic have anything to say about Bishop Arwald?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Little enough. He was more concerned about some cleric who was accompanying the bishop.’

‘Some cleric? Can you be more specific?’

‘It was the cleric from Rome. He told us that it was some scholar.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Ah, I have the name now. His name was Verax. That’s it — the Venerable Verax, son of Anastasius of Segni.’

Eadulf drew in his breath sharply, causing Fidelma to glance at him in surprise.

‘Are you sure of the name?’ he asked.

‘Such a foreign name does stick in one’s memory,’ asserted Brother Madagan. ‘Why?’

‘I. . It’s just that I have heard the name spoken of when I was in Rome,’ Eadulf replied lamely. ‘That is all.’

Fidelma cast a thoughtful glance at him before turning back to the steward of Imleach.

‘Why do you think Brother Cerdic was concerned with him?’

‘Difficult to say, lady. His voice had a tone of respect when he mentioned Verax’s name. I think he was in awe of this aged and renowned scholar. That’s all.’

‘Brother Cerdic gave you absolutely no idea of the purpose of the coming of this Venerable Verax and Bishop Arwald?’

‘Only that it was to be an important discussion which Abbot Ségdae must attend in the presence of the King of Cashel.’

‘I do not like it,’ Eadulf commented.

Brother Madagan nodded. ‘I agree with you, friend Eadulf. I feel there is something afoot. Something. .’

Fidelma sniffed deprecatingly. ‘In another moment, you will be echoing Deogaire’s prophecy by saying that you believe that this is the devil’s deputation.’

Brother Madagan flushed indignantly.

‘Anyway,’ Fidelma rose abruptly, ‘all I needed to know was whether you had seen anything unusual as you passed the chapel yesterday. You have made it clear that you did not.’

‘That is true,’ the steward of Imleach confirmed, also rising to his feet, with Eadulf following his example.

‘Then we will trouble you no more. Thank you, Brother Madagan.’ Fidelma turned for the door of the chapel.

Outside, she halted and addressed Eadulf accusingly.

‘The name of Verax meant something specific to you, didn’t it?’ she demanded.

‘Not Verax on its own but the Venerable Verax, son of Anastasius of Segni,’ corrected Eadulf carefully. ‘That is the name that meant something to me. You will recall I spent some time in Rome after we had resolved the mystery of the death of Wighard, the Archbishop-designate of Canterbury? You had left on your return journey to Cashel. During the time I remained in Rome I was to counsel the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Theodore, because he was a Greek from Tarsus and knew nothing of my people.’

Fidelma restrained her impatience. ‘I know all this. But what about the name?’

‘I spent much time in the Lateran Palace. .’ Eadulf said reflectively.

‘Eadulf!’ Fidelma was becoming impatient.

‘The Bishop of Rome is named Vitalian.’

Fidelma almost ground her teeth in exasperation. ‘I know it. So?’

‘Vitalian is son of Anastasius of Segni.’

It was a few moments before a startled expression crossed her features. ‘Are you saying that this Venerable Verax is. .?’

‘He must be brother to Pope Vitalian himself and therefore a foremost prince of the Church.’

‘Brother to the Bishop of Rome? Brother to the Pope of the Faithful?’ Fidelma breathed.

It was only in recent times that the Bishop of Rome had adopted and been acknowledged by the Latin title of Papa — the child’s name for ‘father’. It was still unusual for members of the churches of the Five Kingdoms to use that title. Now Fidelma was using it as a means of emphasis. She focused her piercing green eyes on Eadulf.

‘If a person of that rank is coming here, this makes the reason for this deputation even more mysterious.’

‘And makes it even more essential for us to resolve the murder of Brother Cerdic before his arrival,’ claimed Eadulf. ‘Brother Cerdic would have been his emissary, not the messenger of Bishop Arwald.’

‘Colgú must be told of the importance of this guest.’

‘And I think I should question my brother further. Surely his companion, the Venerable Victricius, was coming here in connection with this deputation. He must have been a leading Roman cleric, judging by his senior form of address and will have known that he was meeting the Venerable Verax in this place.’

‘But why wouldn’t he tell your brother of his mission?’ asked Fidelma.

‘I do not know,’ Eadulf said hesitantly. ‘Perhaps Egric. .’ He left the thought unarticulated.

‘Are you saying that your brother was not telling us the truth?’ guessed Fidelma.

Eadulf admitted unwillingly, ‘He does seem to be holding something back. I am thinking that there are possibilities. Firstly, that he was told not to say anything in view of the identity of the Venerable Verax. This could mean that if he found out that we have learned of that identity — and it was only by chance I knew, because of the time I spent in Rome — then he might now be more forthcoming.’

‘And the other possibilities?’

‘That he simply does not know. Or that he knows and will not say because of some ulterior reason. I still find some of the things he says to be strange for one in the religious.’

Fidelma was about to speak further when a rider came through the gates into the courtyard. It was the lean, saturnine figure of Aidan, one of the warriors of the King’s bodyguard. He came to a halt hurriedly and had leaped from his horse almost before it had halted, shouting for one of the echaire to attend to it while he hurried purposefully across the flagstones towards the main doors that led to the King’s chambers.

‘Aidan!’ called Fidelma. ‘Where are you off to with such a serious expression?’

Aidan halted and turned, as if seeing them for the first time. He gave a quick smile of apology.

‘News for your brother, lady.’

‘Bad news?’

‘Yesterday I was told to send lookouts along the eastern roads: your brother is expecting a group of visitors from the direction of Fearna.’

‘I know all about that.’

‘Well, I have learned that they crossed the River An Fheoir, and last night, I am told, they were resting at the church of Mogeanna.’

Fidelma raised her eyebrows. ‘That is about forty kilometres from here, which means. .’