Peter Tremayne - The Devil's seal

‘We know that was a mistake.’

‘It was obvious that he mistook me for my brother, Egric. Superficially, there are similarities. At least it tells us that Arwald knows that Egric came to this kingdom. But why did he say, “in the company of an elderly man”, and not the Venerable Victricius?’

‘We must keep an open mind and. .’ Fidelma fell silent as she glanced towards the far side of the courtyard. The very person they had been talking about had emerged and was speaking to one of the guards. The warrior was pointing to the chapel, as if to give directions, and Brother Bosa began walking towards it.

‘The ideal opportunity, Eadulf.’ Fidelma smiled grimly. ‘I suggest you follow Brother Bosa to the chapel while I return to our chambers. See what you can find out.’

Eadulf walked slowly towards the chapel and entered. A few lamps shed a shadowy light inside. He paused at the door, peering round in the gloom, trying to locate the figure of the Saxon. He saw him at last at the back of the chapel, kneeling in prayer.

Eadulf waited until it looked as if Brother Bosa had finished his devotions and then made his way towards him. Brother Bosa saw him coming and rose from his knees.

‘You looking for me, Brother?’ he asked brusquely in their common language.

‘I could not help but notice that you act as both translator as well as scribe to this deputation,’ Eadulf replied in as friendly tone as he could muster. ‘I was wondering how you had such a good command of the language of the Five Kingdoms.’

‘I make no secret of it,’ replied the other with a shrug. ‘I studied at the Abbey of Darú where many of our countrymen have studied. I was there for two years before returning home.’

‘And where is home?’

The young scribe did not reply but changed the subject. ‘I heard you say that you were from the Kingdom of the East Angles. Do you not find it difficult to live among these strange people? Look at the way the servants seem to think themselves equal to their King. We would have them flogged for such pretensions.’

‘It is not the custom here to flog those who attend to our needs.’ Eadulf felt his hackles rise. ‘Rather, we reward them for their service to us. You should know that, if you have studied here for two years.’

‘I did not concern myself with the lives of those outside the abbey. I concentrated on my studies and was glad to leave the country,’ replied the other rudely.

‘I presume that you are from Magonsaete?’ Eadulf asked, trying to keep a calm voice and pursue the information he sought.

‘Magonsaete? That backwater? Not I,’ declared Brother Bosa, much to Eadulf’s surprise. ‘I am from the Kingdom of Kent. I am a direct descendant of Wecta, son of Woden. My father was Octha, brother to Eorcenbert.’

Eadulf was even more surprised. Eorcenbert had been a King of Kent and married to Seaxburh, daughter of Anna, King of his own people, the East Angles. Importantly, Eorcenbert was the first king to have been raised as a Christian, and when he had come to power in Kent, he had ordered the destruction of all the ancient gods and goddesses and their priests. He had appointed the first Jutish Archbishop of Canterbury. That had been Frithuwine, who took the Latin name Deusdedit, but who had died of the Yellow Plague.

Brother Bosa obviously took Eadulf’s silence for awe and smiled indulgently. ‘I am the son of kings and of the oldest kingdom among our people. My father, a pious man, sent me first to Rome for my education and then to Darú, so that I might learn the ways of the barbarians that surround our country.’

Eadulf regarded the young man thoughtfully, ignoring the slight. ‘Bishop Arwald is from Magonsaete,’ he pointed out.

Brother Bosa flushed in annoyance. ‘I have never been to that place,’ he said haughtily.

‘But you serve Bishop Arwald. Why. .?’ Eadulf was frowning.

‘I am of Kent,’ snapped Brother Bosa. ‘I am from Canterbury and serving in the household of Theodore, the Archbishop, who is also served by Arwald. I serve the Bishop because. .’ He suddenly caught himself as if he was about to reveal something he should not.

‘Your master, Bishop Arwald, thought he had seen me before. In fact, he thought he had seen me in Canterbury only a short time ago in the company of an elderly man. Whoever he mistook me for, he said that he had come to this country and was known to have landed at one of the ports in the south.’

When Eadulf paused to allow a comment, Brother Bosa made no response.

‘I was wondering why Bishop Arwald thought it was me and how he knew that this person and his elderly companion had come to the Five Kingdoms.’

Brother Bosa hesitated a moment and then, obviously unable to think up some prevarication, he said: ‘I also glimpsed this person. He was remarkably like you but, now I look closely at you, he was much younger. While we were at this abbey called Fearna, Bishop Arwald made some enquiries of local merchants, and was told that two people answering the descriptions of those we sought had landed at a sea port to the south not so long ago.’

‘So you seek these people!’ Eadulf exclaimed. ‘Why?’

Brother Bosa seemed hesitant again. ‘I could answer, why should that be of interest to you?’ he countered.

‘If one of these persons looks so like me,’ replied Eadulf ‘then it is surely of interest.’

‘I suppose it would be,’ the scribe reflected. ‘I cannot enlighten you, however. I can only say that Bishop Arwald was much concerned about them.’

‘I suppose you know that the Venerable Verax is brother to the Holy Father?’

Brother Bosa seemed surprised that Eadulf knew, and confined himself to a nod of acknowledgement, before adding: ‘I serve Canterbury and Rome, and therefore it distresses me to be among barbarians who have not accepted the True Faith. You yourself, Brother Eadulf, wear a tonsure of Rome, yet you live among these barbarians and have even married the sister of the King.’

Eadulf’s eyes narrowed for a moment. ‘And you disapprove?’

Brother Bosa did not appear perturbed at the frowning countenance of Eadulf. If anything, he was growing assertive, leaning forward to tap the other man on the chest with a forefinger.

‘You are a religieux, and in spite of conversion to the Faith by clerics from this country, we are told that you went to Rome and declared for her teachings as decided at innumerable councils of her bishops. You represented the true path of Rome at the Great Council of Streonshalh against the false doctrines of the Church of Columba.’

‘Therefore?’ Eadulf’s voice was quietly ominous.

‘You have been seduced; married to a foreigner. A religieux should be celibate.’

Eadulf raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, so you are an advocate of celibacy among the religious?’

‘There is no other path to follow but that of the True Faith. It is wrong for anyone in the religious to marry and have children.’

Smiling complacently, the young scribe did not notice the tightening of the muscles of Eadulf’s features.

Eadulf completely forgot that the scribe had neatly deflected him from the purpose of his questions. He said icily, ‘You are now in the Kingdom of Muman, Brother Bosa; in the Land of the Five Kingdoms which hold an allegiance to a High King who resides in the Middle Kingdom. All the kingdoms follow the same laws and practices and religious concepts. You would be well advised not to express the opinion that their liturgy is a false doctrine. Remember, it is Rome which, through its many councils and debates, has departed from what was originally taught when the Faith first came to this land. Here, they regard the liturgy and doctrines now followed in Rome as the deviant ones; ones rejecting the original teachings of the Faith.’