Peter Tremayne - Chalice of Blood

‘I wonder why Brother Donnchad would be interested in reading the arguments of Origenes against Celsus?’ She posed the question rhetorically, not expecting an answer.

‘Little is known about Celsus except that he was probably a Greek who lived during the reign of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius.’ The scriptor seem to pride himself on his knowledge of his books and he liked to share it. ‘That is, he lived about two centuries after the birth of the Christ. His main work was called Alethos Logos , which is Greek for The True Word, and he showed himself to be an implacable opponent of the Christians. He tried to ridicule Christians for what he claimed was their advocacy of blind faith instead of reason.’

Fidelma stirred uncomfortably. In the many years that she had served both the law of the Fénechus as well as the Faith, she had always been uncomfortable when her questions could not be answered. On every difficult question she was told one simply had to have faith; one had to believe and not question the belief. She wondered what Origenes had argued if Celsus had brought up similar questions.

‘And what do you know of the book Contra Celsum ?’

‘I have not read it.’

‘A pity,’ sighed Eadulf. ‘And you never had a copy of Celsus’s original work? If you had the refutation, it surely would be logical to have a copy of what it refuted.’

‘Brother Donnchad made the very same point,’ replied Brother Donnán. ‘As I have said, our library is filled only with books by the faithful. Indeed, Brother Lugna now insists on obedience to this rule. I was told to discard the works of any that are critical of the Faith.’

‘Sometimes one learns and receives strength by studyingthe arguments of those of contrary opinion,’ Fidelma said. ‘Do we know what matters Celsus raised that needed to be refuted?’

‘The important thing is that we know he was wrong,’ said Brother Donnán with a pious air.

‘But how do we know that?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Donnán looked shocked. ‘Because Origenes tells us it is so.’

Fidelma sighed softly but did not bother to pursue the argument.

‘Did Brother Donnchad mention why he was researching this work?’

‘He was never much of a conversationalist, unlike his brother Cathal. Cathal was always the talkative one but Donnchad was very introspective, and preferred his own company or that of the simpleton.’

‘Simpleton?’ Eadulf’s tone was sharp.

‘Brother Gáeth,’ the scriptor said, unabashed. ‘He is a field worker who can barely write his own name. You will meet him no doubt and will be able to judge for yourself.’

Fidelma shot a warning glance at Eadulf who was obviously about to admit to their discussion with Brother Gáeth.

‘But he was Brother Donnchad’s anam chara ,’ she pointed out.

‘That was before he went on his pilgrimage,’ replied the scriptor . ‘Anyway, Brother Donnchad had no need of such a soul friend.’

‘Do you know if the brethren ever discussed why Brother Donnchad became reclusive?’ she asked, ignoring the remark.

Brother Donnán hesitated before lifting one shoulder and letting it fall to signal his lack of knowledge. ‘I do not listen to gossip.’

‘Yet sometimes gossip leads to truth,’ Fidelma encouraged.

‘I would not know,’ the scriptor replied. Then, realising they were waiting for him to make some further reply to the question,he added, ‘Some said that he was not right in the mind because of the hardships encountered on his journey. Others opined that he felt abandoned by his elder brother Cathal because he remained behind, having been offered the pallium of some foreign city.’

‘But what did you think?’

Brother Donnán was reflective. ‘To be truthful, I thought he had become a little crazy.’

‘In what way?’

‘He became furtive, secretive, felt people were hatching plots against him or about to rob him of things. I heard that he demanded a lock to the door of his cubiculum — a lock and key!’ The scriptor raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Now I realise that perhaps he wasn’t so crazy after all because of the manner of his death. But I thought at the time that his fears were part of his dementia.’

‘As you say, now that he has been murdered, perhaps he wasn’t so crazy,’ Eadulf commented.

The scriptor remained silent.

‘We are told that he brought back manuscripts from his travels and other artefacts,’ said Fidelma. ‘Precious manuscripts.’

Brother Donnán smiled and turned to her eagerly. ‘I was looking forward to seeing them. I heard there were some valuable manuscripts which our library could take a pride in owning.’

‘But you have not seen them?’

‘Brother Donnchad, as I have said, was scared of someone stealing them and so kept them in his cubiculum .’

‘So he did not deposit any of his manuscripts with the library?’

Brother Donnán shook his head. ‘Not since his return from the pilgrimage.’

‘And the artefacts,’ Eadulf said. ‘Who were they given to?’

‘He brought back a sliver of the True Cross, of course. That is now in the recess of the altar in our chapel.’

‘Anything else?’

‘I think he brought some gifts for his mother Lady Eithne. One was a lovely ornate cross from the east. The jewels are magnificent. When he presented them at the fortress …’ The scriptor suddenly hesitated.

‘You were there?’ prompted Fidelma.

‘I have visited several times to take manuscripts to Lady Eithne,’ admitted the librarian.

‘Brother Donnchad used to visit his mother, then?’

‘Her fortress is not far from here. You passed it on the road that crosses The Great River before you turn along it westward to the abbey.’

‘I know it,’ said Fidelma quickly. ‘So you saw him recently at his mother’s fortress?’

Brother Donnán shook his head. ‘He went to pay his respects to his mother the day after he arrived back. That was early summer. I think he spent several days with her before returning to the abbey. It was a coincidence that I was there at the time.’

‘He was not there more recently?’

‘Not that I know of. I often take books to the fortress.’

‘Did you know that his mother was sent for when it became clear that all was not well with him?’

‘It is now well known among the brethren,’ Brother Donnán said. ‘The master builder, Glassán, told me. He spoke to Lady Eithne when she was leaving the abbey just a few days before he was found murdered. Glassán is a talkative fellow.’

‘Well,’ Fidelma said, after a moment’s further thought, ‘that seems to be all …’ Then she hesitated. ‘One thing does strike me. Do you know of any library that holds the original work of Celsus? Have you ever heard of any library holding such a work?’

Brother Donnán thought deeply before replying: ‘Never.’

‘So Brother Donnchad visited the scriptorium to read some works but you knew nothing of what he was working on apart from the fact that he spent long hours over the text of Origenes. Is that correct?’

‘It is.’

‘But you knew he was behaving oddly in the days before his death.’

‘I have already said it was well known among the brethren. He was always very quiet-’

‘Except that last day he was in here, a day or so before his death.’

They looked round. Brother Máel Eoin had risen from the table, where he had been reading, to put away his text and had overheard Brother Donnán’s last remark. Fidelma turned to him with interest.

‘What do you mean?’