Peter Tremayne - The Devil's seal

Colgú smiled softly. ‘We know your story, Eadulf. So now we are hoping you will be able to provide us with information. As we said, we hope that you may know something of the leader of this deputation so that we can learn something of his purpose. Have you encountered this Bishop Arwald of Magonsaete?’

‘Of Magonsaete?’ Eadulf raised his head sharply in surprise.

Colgú caught the movement. ‘Then you do know this man?’

‘I do not know him ,’ Eadulf said quickly, ‘but I do know Magonsaete. I would have thought it the last place to be able to appoint a bishop to discuss church matters with this kingdom or, indeed, any other kingdom.’

Colgú was intrigued. ‘Tell us what you know. Where is this place?’

‘It has recently come into being; a hybrid kingdom, neither of the Angles nor of the Britons. It is situated betwixt and between the two peoples. It came into existence when Penda of Mercia — Mercia is one of the major kingdoms of the Angles — joined forces with some of the Britons to extend his western borders. Among the Britons fighting for Penda was a warrior called Merewalh — the name means “illustrious foreigner”. I am afraid I do not know his real British name. Twenty years ago, Penda made him sub-King over this newly acquired territory which was called Magonsaete. That was in reward for his services.’

Colgú rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Are you telling us that this is a kingdom of Britons which owes its allegiance to a kingdom of Angles? I am confused.’

‘That is not exactly the situation. The Angles from Mercia began to settle in this new kingdom, displacing the native Britons who fled westward. Merewalh is a Briton, but he rules over the new settlers. Merewalh married one of Penda’s daughters. He has forsaken his own people.’

Colgú struggled to understand the politics of the situation. ‘So you are saying that this Briton has the authority of Rome and Canterbury to send his bishop to debate with us?’

‘It seems scarcely credible,’ agreed Eadulf solemnly. ‘It was only ten years ago that Merewalh was converted to the faith of Christ.’

‘But surely all the Britons were Christian?’

‘Maybe Merewalh had originally been of the Faith but changed it when he made his alliance with the Mercia King. Penda was no Christian. He believed in the ancient gods of our people, like Woden.’

‘You seem to know a lot about his kingdom. Yet it is not connected with your own. How is this?’

‘Penda was an Angle but he was the most ruthless and ambitious of the kings,’ explained Eadulf. ‘He sought to subdue my own Kingdom of the East Angles and slew our great King Anna when I was only a lad. Even after Penda died — I was about twenty years of age then — Penda’s son, Wulfhere, continued to exert his will over our small kingdom. So we were always aware of the Mercian threat.’

Colgú shook his head in frustration. ‘With due respect to you, Eadulf, I find all these foreign names very confusing. I have no understanding of any of these kingdoms of the Angles and the Saxons. Have they no High King governing them as we have here?’

‘Such an idea is growing among my people,’ Eadulf conceded. ‘But there are eleven major kingdoms of Angles and Saxons, and all their rulers are often at war with one another. I doubt whether we will ever see unity among them. Anyway, the conflict among them is not even about uniting the kingdoms — but about claiming the title to be conqueror and ruler over the Britons.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘The title that is claimed is Bretwalda — wielder or ruler over the Britons. Don’t forget that the kingdoms of the Angles and Saxons were carved out of the lands of the Britons when our ancestors first landed on the island of Britain two centuries ago. But the title is meaningless for the Britons have not submitted.’

Colgú remarked sadly, ‘Your people seem to be very warlike, always intent on conquest.’

‘I regret that it is so, Colgú,’ nodded Eadulf. ‘But perhaps, as the New Faith takes firmer hold, we may become calmer and more content. Our kingdoms were born in bloodshed and conquest. Therefore it may take us some time to recover from those years.’

‘So what are we to make of this Bishop Arwald of Magonsaete?’

‘It is hard to make anything of him until we know him. You say he comes here on the authority of the Bishops Vitalian and Theodore?’

‘So far as we are told.’

‘Then I have little understanding of it,’ Eadulf said. ‘Why would Rome and Canterbury send any delegation to Cashel, even if it was to discuss matters of the Faith?’

‘It is a mystery which we were hoping you could enlighten us on before this delegation arrives,’ sighed Abbot Ségdae.

‘I can only tell you what I know. What did you say were the names of the other members of the delegation?’

‘There is this Roman cleric named Verax,’ offered the abbot.

‘The name is common enough among clerics,’ Eadulf shrugged. ‘It means “the truthful one”.’

‘And, of course, this Brother Cerdic.’

‘Well, it does sound as if Cerdic comes from Magonsaete,’ mused Eadulf. Then, seeing their baffled looks, he told them: ‘Cerdic comes originally from a name popular among Britons — Ceretic. With the mixture of Britons and Angles in Magonsaete, it is not unusual to see such a name. It is now adopted by the Angles.’

‘So it seems that we can do nothing except wait for the arrival of this deputation before we can discover their intention,’ commented Colgú.

And then, to Eadulf’s surprise, Colgú suddenly grinned. It was the mischievous smile that he shared with his sister when a humorous thought came to his mind. ‘Unless, Abbot Ségdae, you want to consult with Deogaire?’

Abbot Ségdae’s brow gathered in an angry frown before he saw the smile on the King’s lips.

‘I certainly do not,’ he replied tightly.

‘Excuse me?’ asked Eadulf. ‘Who is Deogaire?’

‘A person to avoid,’ snapped Abbot Ségdae. ‘Especially with your prejudice against Sliabh Luachra.’

‘I referred to Deogaire of Sliabh Luachra,’ Colgú explained. ‘Unfortunately, if we did not have concerns enough, he has chosen this time to make one of his infrequent visits to Cashel. He claims to have a gift of prophecy.’

It was only a short time before that Eadulf had found himself on the borders of Sliabh Luachra, the territory of the Luachair Deaghaidh, and witnessed the killing of their chieftain, Fidaig, by the chieftain’s own son! Eadulf suppressed a shiver, remembering the forbidding mountains that made the territory a fortress against outsiders. It was a grim and frightening land.

‘This Deogaire,’ Eadulf went on after a moment or two, ‘is he of the chieftain’s family? Why would he be able to answer your questions?’

It was Abbot Ségdae who responded. ‘It is the King’s humour. Deogaire is a wild man, a man of the hills and mountains. As the King says, Deogaire claims to be able to foretell the future; he calls himself a wizard, a soothsayer. Every so often, he comes out of his mountain fastness and sells his prophecies to the gullible — credulous people who do not trust the Faith.’

‘Deogaire has a talent for creating arguments, especially among the brethren,’ added Colgú.

‘Then why is he allowed in the palace?’

Colgú sighed. ‘It is hard to refuse him. He is the nephew of old Brother Conchobhar; the son of his sister.’

There was little need to explain further because Eadulf knew that Brother Conchobhar was the physician and apothecary who had tended and been mentor to both Colgú and Fidelma since childhood. Even before they were born, he had served their father Failbhe Flann. If there was one person in Cashel that Eadulf had come to trust implicitly, it was this bright-eyed old man.