Peter Tremayne - The Council of the Cursed

‘And Bishop Ordgar?’ asked Eadulf.

‘As for Ordgar, he was removed to another chamber-in the same corridor. He could not, of course, remain in his own chamber with the blood and the fact that someone had died violently there. Ordgar’s steward, Brother Benevolentia, was roused and we carried the bishop to the new chamber. I instructed his steward to remain with him for the rest of the night and try to get him to swallow as much water as was possible at regular intervals in order to flush the system.’

‘And the body of Abbot Dabhóc?’

‘The body was removed to the mortuary where I later prepared it for burial. There were no other wounds than the blow that had splintered his skull. Obviously, it was a blow that was delivered from behind and with considerable force.’

‘And what about Bishop Ordgar’s chamber?’ asked Fidelma.

The physician looked at her questioningly.

‘I am told that you cleaned it,’ she explained. ‘You also washed the cup in which it was thought the wine had been drugged. Is that so?’

‘Should I have left a cup of drugged wine standing there for anyone to take or contaminate their drink from?’ retorted Brother Gebicca with some irritation. ‘That would have been dangerous.’

Eadulf bent forward quickly. ‘There was still wine in the cup?’

‘It was half full.’

‘Then Bishop Ordgar had not entirely drained it?’

‘Had he done so, he might have been dead.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Fidelma in surprise.

Brother Gebicca looked pained. ‘I would not state anything that I know to be false. Of course I am sure.’

‘You did not keep nor analyse this wine?’

‘I ensured that it was disposed of, both the cup and the amphora. By chance it seemed that the amphora was empty anyway.’

‘So there is no evidence of what this wine was, nor how the drug came to be in the wine? I mean, whether the drug was put in the cup first or into the amphora.’

The physician made a negative gesture with one hand.

‘The fact that it was in the cup was cause enough for me to ensure no one else would drink from it and suffer illness or death,’ he replied.

‘We each have our tasks to fulfil, Brother Gebicca,’ replied Fidelma softly. ‘Your task is to save life but mine is to discover why life is lost.’

Eadulf had been thoughtful for a few moments and now he said: ‘Let me ask you a question, Brother Gebicca. It needs must be a hypothetical one. Would it have been possible for Bishop Ordgar to have killed Abbot Dabhóc, struck Abbot Cadfan and then take the poison himself, swallowing only a mouthful or so to give him the effects you saw but not enough to kill himself?’

Brother Gebicca considered. ‘Anything is possible, but Bishop Ordgar would have to be a man with fine judgement to know how much of that noxious brew to swallow in safety.’

‘But he could have done so?’ pressed Eadulf.

The physician spread his arms in a helpless gesture. ‘Yes, he could have done so. But as a physician, I would say it was most unlikely, unless he was practised in the ways of poison.’

‘When you were tending to both Abbot Cadfan and Bishop Ordgar, did you question them about what had taken place?’ Fidelma asked next.

‘In fact, both men, when returning to consciousness, asked me what had happened. They said that they had no memories of it.’

‘They claimed they recalled nothing?’

‘Bishop Ordgar said he remembered taking wine, as was his custom before retiring and falling asleep. Abbot Cadfan said he entered Bishop Ordgar’s chamber, having been summoned there in the middle of the night, and was struck from behind and knew nothing else. I would say that the suspicion is more strongly connected with Ordgar, were it not for the fact that Cadfan claimed he had received a note from Ordgar asking him to attend him. No such note was found.’

‘Let me ask you another question,’ said Eadulf. ‘Speaking as a medical man, could Cadfan’s injury have been self administered?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Then, what you are saying, in fact, is that suspicion rests equally on both men.’

The physician shrugged as Fidelma rose slowly from her seat.

‘I don’t suppose that you knew any of these three clerics before they arrived here at the abbey?’ she added as an afterthought.

‘Most of the learned bishops and abbots who are attending this council are strangers to this city. I have practised my arts only in Divio and here in Autun. I am under the impression that most of those attending the council are unknown to each other.’

‘Thank you for your time, Brother Gebicca,’ Fidelma said.

‘It is of little service, I’m afraid,’ the physician said, standing up and conducting them back through his apothecary to the door. ‘If I would venture an opinion, I would say that it comes down to which person you believe. Both of them cannot be telling the truth. A man is dead and there were only two others in the room. If the choice were mine, I would toss a coin.’

They left Brother Gebicca in his apothecary and walked slowly across the great courtyard to the main abbey building in silence.

‘It seems the physician agrees with me,’ Eadulf ventured after a while. ‘It does come down to a matter of choice.’

‘I am not prepared to make that judgement at the moment, Eadulf,’ Fidelma said stubbornly. ‘I do not feel that we have enough information.’

‘We have all the information that we are likely to get,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘There are no other witnesses.’

‘Then we need to give this more thought.’

‘If only the cup and amphora had not been destroyed. A good apothecary might have been able to identify any poison and so confirm Ordgar’s story.’

‘The destruction of the cup is regrettable,’ replied Fidelma. ‘The amphora does not matter.’

‘How so?’

‘Because the poison would have been mixed in the cup, not in the amphora, which was empty after the wine was poured. It is logical that it was too late that night to throw the amphora away. It was not the next day but it would have told us nothing so we need not concern ourselves with it. However, the cup…that’s a pity.’

They had not reached the door of the building when Brother Chilperic came out and walked towards them.

‘I am off to our herb garden,’ he greeted them. ‘Are you seeking anything in particular?’

‘For the moment we are just exercising,’ replied Fidelma. ‘The late-afternoon sun is very inviting, Brother Chilperic. Where is your herb garden?’

‘It is a separate one to that which the apothecary cultivates for he has his own needs. It is this way, if you wish to see it.’

They fell in step with him. He guided them alongside the abbey wall and through a small courtyard at the back of the main building into a large open space which surprised them. It was full of aromatic herbs and spices being tended by two elderly members of the brethren.

‘It looks a beautiful garden,’ Fidelma acknowledged.

‘It is, indeed, and I’m afraid that it invites us to be lazy and sit in contemplation when we should be about God’s work in tending the garden. Would you like to see our herbs and spices? We grow a great variety for the consumption of our brethren.’

‘I would not like to encourage indolence, Brother Chilperic, and stop you working.’

‘The sun is encouragement enough. But perhaps you need to get on about your own work. How is the investigation? Do you need anything? Have you made a decision yet?’

Eadulf pursed his lips as he began to say, ‘We are faced with…’

Fidelma knew that he was about to say ‘a blank wall’ and it suddenly gave her an idea.