Peter Tremayne - Chalice of Blood

‘You refer to this separation between her and Brother Eadulf?’

The abbot shifted his weight in the chair. ‘Sometimes I think that those esoteric theologists who try to persuade us that celibacy is the best form of life for those who would pursue the religious cause are right. Sometimes relationships within the communities can lead to problems.’

‘Fidelma and Eadulf have shown not only their love and devotion to one another over the years but they work so well together on mysteries that would have baffled many. I need hardly remind you how they helped me when Brother Mochta and the holy relics of the Blessed Ailbe disappeared and-’

‘If there is anyone more indebted to Fidelma, and to Eadulf, than myself, I have yet to meet with them,’ Abbot Ségdae interrupted heavily. ‘I am well aware of the debt I owe her. It is that indebtedness that makes me worried. If there is some problembetween them, of which this declaration is a manifestation, then I must do what I can to see if a resolution can be found.’

‘How will you do this?’

‘I shall consult the King again. We have heard worrying news from Abbot Iarnla of Lios Mór that might become a solution to this problem.’ He paused, and then smiled as if in relief at his decision. ‘Indeed, that is what I shall do.’

Colgú, King of Muman, the most southwesterly and largest of the Five Kingdoms of Éireann, ran a hand through his crop of red hair and gazed at his sister with a troubled expression.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Abbot Ségdae is well within his rights to ask you to explain why you wish to leave the religieuse.’

‘And I have answered him,’ snapped Fidelma, pausing as she paced up and down in front of her brother, who was seated in his private chamber. ‘He should accept my statement and not start prying into my private affairs.’

‘You gave him your reason but even you must admit that there has been much public speculation since you and Eadulf returned from the kingdom of the Bretons.’ He saw Fidelma’s lips thin and the fire come into her eyes, and rather than wait for the storm to erupt, he continued, ‘You know it is true. It is no wonder Abbot Ségdae questions why you have made this request now.’

For a moment or two Fidelma seemed to be about to give vent to her anger but then abruptly she heaved a sigh and sank into a chair opposite her brother.

‘It has nothing to do with it,’ she said quietly. ‘At least, nothing directly to do with it.’

Colgú was very fond of his fiery sister and he had been increasingly concerned during the past two weeks about her apparent separation from Eadulf. He had also grown fond of the Anglefrom Seaxmund’s Ham. It saddened him to see an apparent rift in the relationship between his sister and Eadulf.

‘Can’t you tell me what the problem is?’ he asked softly.

Fidelma made a motion of her shoulder, a half shrug, but said nothing.

‘Since our parents died when you were little, you would always confide your problems to me,’ pressed Colgú.

‘As far as I am concerned … ’ began Fidelma sharply. Then she halted, compressed her lips for a moment before continuing in a more reasonable tone. ‘If you must know, Eadulf wishes to pursue his life as a religieux. He has accepted many of the teachings of Rome and his idea, when we returned here, was to enter a community and settle. He no longer wanted to be involved in my pursuit of law. He wanted us to settle and raise little Alchú in the service of the Christ.’

Colgú nodded thoughtfully. ‘He is set on that course?’

‘You know he has a good mind and yet he does not realise that he is not suited for a life of contemplation and piety. But he is stubborn. He will become bored with such a life, I know it.’

‘And it was over this disagreement of your opinions that he left you and went off to the community at the abbey of the Blessed Rúan?’

‘We argued,’ Fidelma agreed simply. ‘But I told him to go. Better he find out sooner than continue in resentment.’

Her brother grimaced wryly. ‘You told him to go? An order to a man such as Eadulf …’ He left the comment unfinished.

‘You know as well as I do that it was our cousin Laisran who persuaded me to join the religious,’ she said. ‘I am not interested in being committed to spreading the Faith but in spreading the concept of truth and justice under the law and obedience to it. With me, the law comes first and Faith comes second. That is why I have decided to withdraw from the religious and pursue my duties as a Brehon.’

Her brother smiled. ‘In the expectation that I shall nominate you as my Chief Brehon when the Council meet next week?’

Fidelma flushed indignantly. ‘I shall not try to persuade you to do so. You know what work I have done, so I shall let my reputation be my advocate.’

‘And what did Eadulf say to this?’

‘As I have said, he wanted me to give it up and go to the community of the Blessed Rúan with him. I told him that if that was all he cared about, then he should go on his own. He should respect my wishes.’

‘And what of Eadulf’s wishes? Should those not be respected?’

‘That is not the same thing.’

‘Not the same?’ Colgú queried sadly.

‘Law is the only thing that has really interested me since I reached the amsir togú , the age of choice. That is why I persuaded our foster-parents to allow me to attend the school of Brehon Morann. Perhaps if I had not listened to our cousin, Abbot Laisran …’

‘If, Fidelma? Then what?’ Her brother smiled. ‘You are the last person to start playing the “if” game. Have you not said before that with an “if” you could put Tara and the High King’s palace in a bottle?’

Fidelma did not respond to her brother’s humour and moved her hand in a gesture of dismissal.

‘It does not alter the facts. I want to devote myself to the pursuit of legal matters. It has been my ambition since a child, what I was trained to do and what I have proved myself adept at. I shall leave the religious with or without Abbot Ségdae’s blessing.’

‘And with or without your husband’s approval?’

Fidelma gazed at her brother, the fire blazing in her eyes.

‘If that is the way it must be, then so be it,’ she said firmly.

There was a silence and then Colgú stirred reluctantly androse, turning towards the fire in the hearth. For a moment or two he stood staring down into the flames, one hand on the stone mantel. Then he looked at her over his shoulder.

‘Very well. I must tell you that I have discussed the matter with Abbot Ségdae. You are too good an advocate to be allowed to waste your talents. But that does not mean that I am certain to support you in your bid to become Chief Brehon. I will remain neutral and it will be up to the Council of Brehons to make the final decision.’

Fidelma was unable to resist a broad smile.

‘I will take the chance that they make the right decision,’ she replied.

Colgú frowned sternly. ‘Their decision is their decision. Meanwhile, there is something more important to think about.’

Fidelma was already turning for the door but paused now and looked expectantly back at her brother.

‘There is a condition that Abbot Ségdae and I have agreed should be put to you.’

‘A condition?’ Fidelma returned from the door with suspicion on her features.

‘You are well acquainted with the abbey of Lios Mór.’ It was more of a statement than a question, for Colgú knew the answer.

‘Of course. I have sat in judgement in the abbey on minor matters when Brother Cathal was in charge in Abbot Iarnla’s absence.’

‘But you know old Abbot Iarnla?’

‘I do, but not well. I have only met him briefly.’