Peter Tremayne - The Council of the Cursed

‘The “it” in question being a reference to the reliquary box?’

‘I think that is a logical deduction,’ Eadulf agreed.

‘But that brings up another question,’ Fidelma said. ‘Who, then, did take this mysterious box?’

‘Or did Abbot Dabhóc hide it somewhere safe before his death and now no one can find it?’ Eadulf said. ‘Should we not have another examination of his chamber?’

‘We will, but we must also consider whether this matter is relevant to his murder, or simply a coincidence. And, of course, if either Ordgar or Cadfan were involved in the murder-why would they want this reliquary box?’

‘It would not be the first time members of the Faith have been tempted by temporal wealth or by some religious icon,’ Eadulf commented.

Fidelma had to acknowledge he was right but did not feel satisfied that this was the answer.

‘We don’t know if it was valuable. That would depend on whose relics were in the box. From the name Gillucán gave me, I cannot think that it is anyone well venerated.’

‘What was the name again?’

‘Benén was the name on the box, according to Gillucán.’

Eadulf frowned. ‘Benén. There are many who have entered the religious who call themselves by that name. They think it makes them of a more holy disposition. When I was a student at Tuam Brecain, I knew a few of that name. And-’ He suddenly sat up straight. ‘Do you mean Benén mac Sesenén of Midhe?’

Fidelma stared at him. ‘The successor of Patrick?’ she asked.

‘The same,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘You should know his work well, for he was one of the three representatives of the Church who sat on the nine-man commission who edited the laws of the Fénechus and produced the Senchus Mór -the great law book by which you Brehons set such great store.’

‘Benén,’ she echoed. He had been the favourite disciple of Patrick, his co-adjutor at Ard Macha, and he also wrote Patrick’s biography. ‘Of course, Benén!’

They were silent for a few moments.

‘Why would the bishop of Ard Macha send the relics of Benén to Rome?’ Fidelma wondered, almost to herself. ‘He never left Ulaidh or Midhe during his temporal life, so why send them there? There seems no connection.’

Eadulf shrugged. ‘That is a question beyond my answering.’

There came a tap on the door. It was Abbot Ségdae.

‘I am told that you were looking for me, Brother Eadulf? I was in a meeting with some of the Armorican abbots.’

It was Fidelma who told him of the problems that they were facing.

‘I thought this had all been clearly agreed by Bishop Leodegar,’ the abbot said peevishly. ‘Perhaps you are right. He wields such a strong hand with his community here that it could well be that no one, not even his steward, will do anything without his direct approval.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I will have another word with him on his return and insist that he makes clear that you can question whoever you want, whenever you want and wherever you want.’ He added heavily, ‘Some of the delegates are speaking of withdrawing from this council. Already there is talk that the council is cursed.’

Fidelma examined the abbot with surprise. ‘Cursed? It is unlike clerics to use such strong language, Ségdae.’

The Abbot of Imleach nodded moodily. ‘Even if this council goes ahead, I do fear the outcome. I have spoken to many, as I have said before, and the Gauls, Britons and the people of our own five kingdoms will not accept these new ideas from Rome easily.’

‘When you were with Abbot Dabhóc, did he ever speak to you of a gift he was bringing here for the Nuntius to take back to Rome?’ Fidelma asked, changing the subject.

Abbot Ségdae looked bemused. ‘What sort of gift?’ he asked. ‘He never mentioned anything to me.’

‘Then please speak of this to no one,’ Fidelma replied. ‘We think it was a reliquary box-the relics of the Blessed Benén who was Patrick’s helper and disciple.’

‘At Imleach we have long known that Ard Macha has been attempting to claim that it is the primacy of all the five kingdoms and we have long fought against it,’ said Abbot Ségdae. ‘We know that the bishops of Ard Macha have already written to the bishops of Rome to enlist their support. Perhaps this is another means of trying to solicit the backing of Rome.’ He tutted to himself. ‘It is sad that even in the Faith, man resorts to politics…!’ He suddenly looked hard at Fidelma. ‘Are you saying there is some connection with the death of Dabhóc and this matter?’

‘I am not saying that…yet,’ she responded. ‘I would appreciate it that nothing is said.’

‘You have my word. Have you spoken to Dabhóc’s steward? I forget his name but he might know something.’

‘I have spoken to him-but again, I would appreciate it if no more was said.’

‘Very well.’

There came the distant ringing of a bell.

Abbot Ségdae glanced up in surprise. ‘ Tempus fugit . It is the bell to end the day’s toil in the abbey and prepare for the evening meal.’

For people from the five kingdoms it was a signal for their daily bath, which always occurred before the evening meal.

The abbot hurriedly made his excuses and left them.

They joined him when the bell tolled again to announce the evening meal. Brother Gillucán was at the table in the refectory looking withdrawn and nervous, and while Fidelma glanced encouragingly at the young man she did not refer to their earlier meeting, nor did he. Abbot Ségdae waited until after the ritual of the gratias , the meal and the dismissal were over before approaching Bishop Leodegar. After a hurried conversation, the bishop accompanied the abbot back to where Fidelma was waiting with Eadulf.

‘I apologise, Sister Fidelma, if my intentions were misinterpreted. I will make sure that my instructions are followed more carefully. Of course you have the freedom to come and go, as you will. Only please respect my wish that you are circumspect.’

‘That was my understanding of our agreement,’ said Fidelma solemnly. ‘I was sure that Brother Chilperic was simply being a little over-zealous.’

Bishop Leodegar looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Just so. Just so. Though I must confess that I cannot understand why you need to consult with Abbess Audofleda.’

‘It is difficult to explain where one’s path will lead in an investigation,’ Fidelma said smoothly. ‘Perhaps into a blind alley, perhaps down a side turning, perhaps nowhere at all. One has to follow one’s instincts.’

‘Very well, I shall send a message to Abbess Audofleda telling her to expect you. Tomorrow morning, perhaps?’ But his voice betrayed both reluctance and curiosity.

Fidelma bowed her head in acknowledgement.

The bishop waited a moment more before, with a jerk of his head towards both of them, he turned and moved off.

Later that night, Fidelma woke Eadulf. He blinked in the candlelight.

‘It’s still dark!’ he protested sleepily.

‘And time to do some investigation-remember?’

Eadulf groaned. ‘So I must go seeking the ghosts of Brother Gillucán’s imagination?’

‘As you suggested yourself. Find the necessarium and see what there is to be seen. I do not think there will be anything, but one needs to be thorough.’

Still grumbling Eadulf climbed out of the bed and pulled on his robe.

‘ Auroa Musis amica ,’ chuckled Fidelma as she watched him.

‘We have a similar saying,’ replied Eadulf without humour. ‘The early bird catches the worm.’

‘So I suppose you know where to go?’ she asked, as he took the candle and made his way to the door.

He turned back with some of his old spirit.