Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

The paper was scorched and torn. He handed it to Fidelma.

The only readable matter she could make out was ‘… midnight. Orat

… alone… Sin…’.

Eadulf peered at it over her shoulder and shook his head.

‘It makes no sense. It could mean anything. Why would this Sister Buan think it was significant?’

‘She said that the Venerable Cinaed must have burnt it on the night he went to the oratory.’

‘Well, we will doubtless have a word with this Sister Buan,’ Fidelma said. ‘Have we now identified all Cinaed’s friends? Is there anyone else… any particular friend of Cinaed?’

‘Not that I know of,’ Abbot Erc replied and made to take back the piece of burnt paper, but Fidelma shook her head with a smile.

‘We’ll hold on to this for the time being,’ she said, putting it carefully in her marsupium.

Slightly put out, the abbot reseated himself.

Conri, who had been silent during most of the discussion, coughed slightly to draw attention to himself and said: ‘My aunt, the Abbess Faife, was a close friend of the Venerable Cinaed. You have forgotten her. She often helped Cinaed in the library, for his eyesight was not of the best as he grew older.’

Abbot Erc flushed.

‘Of course,’ he said stiffly. ‘There was the Abbess Faife, but as she is… no longer with us, I did not think her name need be mentioned.’

Eadulf’s lips twitched in a grimace.

‘On the contrary, it is useful to know there was such a link between the two victims of violent death.’

‘Do you think that there was some connection between the deaths then, Brother Eadulf?’ the steward demanded.

‘Perhaps. We need…’ he avoided Fidelma’s eyes, ‘we need facts before we can speculate.’

‘Your primary task was to find out why the Abbess Faife was killed and where her charges are,’ the abbot exclaimed in disapproval. ‘This cannot be accomplished in this abbey. You should go to the lands of the Corco Duibhne and make inquiries there.’

Fidelma rose abruptly from her seat.

‘You are quite right, Abbot Erc. I do mean to proceed very shortly. But not until I have made those inquiries here that I think necessary. However, as it grows late, and we have had a long ride today, we shall retire now and continue in the morning.’

The abbot also rose, looking confused. He had apparently expected some argument or some further discussion.

The young rechtaire, taking a lantern, conducted them from the abbot’s chamber through the grounds of the abbey to the guests’ quarters.

‘If there is anything you wish, call upon me or Sister Sinnchene.’

He was turning to go when Fidelma stayed him.

‘You will remember that Brother Eadulf will be conducting a search of the clothing in the washroom tomorrow?’

‘I have not forgotten.’

‘Nor that I shall be expecting the merchant, Mugron, at the abbey tomorrow in the morning.’

‘Neither have I forgotten that, lady.’

‘Excellent.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Then first thing in the morning, I would like to talk to you while we await Mugron’s arrival.’

Brother Cu Mara looked surprised.

‘Me, lady?’

‘I need your advice as the rechtaire.’

‘Of course.’ The young man was puzzled but acknowledged her request. ‘I shall be at your service.’

The morning service was over. The bell denoting the end of prayers had scarcely ceased to toll before the community of the entire abbey became a hive of activity as the religious dispersed to their individual tasks. Some had gone to tend the herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, others to the herb gardens or to the fields, although there was little to do in the freezing

Brother Eadulf, with the two warriors who had accompanied Conri, had set off to the tech-nigid. Conri, wanting to be active, had volunteered to ride south along the road to meet Mugron the merchant and escort him to the abbey.

Seizing the quiet time that ensued, Fidelma accompanied Brother Cu Mara to a corner of the herb garden where they could speak without being overheard.

‘Last night you said that you needed my advice, lady,’ the young man said, as they seated themselves on a wooden bench in a sheltered corner.

‘I did,’ agreed Fidelma. She paused to make herself comfortable. ‘I think that you wanted to tell me something about Sister Buan but were dissuaded by the presence of the abbot. Is it not so?’

The young steward flushed and seemed to hesitate. ‘I suppose I was about to say that Sister Buan was more than the Venerable Cinaed’s companion.’

Fidelma gazed at him with interest. ‘In what sense are you speaking?’

‘As in male and female,’ he said as if in embarrassment.

‘Does that cause some concern? Is that not a normal relationship for men and women to follow?’

‘Oh, truly.’

‘Is not this abbey a conhospitae, a mixed house in which male and female live together working for the glory of God and where their children are raised to that ideal? Mind you, I have not seen many children here.’

‘It is so. We are a conhospitae. However, children are not encouraged here and there are some who…’ Brother Cu Mara hesitated.

‘Who would welcome these new ideas of celibacy coming from Rome?’ ended Fidelma.

‘Indeed. The Venerable Mac Faosma, for example, since he arrived here has been a vociferous advocate of the idea of celibacy. He would have all the females expelled from here and the abbey given over to being solely a male house.’

‘I see. Does that meet with the approval of the Abbot Erc?’

The rechtaire grinned cynically. ‘Since the Venerable Mac Faosma came here, things have changed.’

‘So the arguments of Mac Faosma are clearly heeded by the abbot?’

‘Oh, there are many who support the argument for celibacy within the abbey.’

‘But the Venerable Cinaed did not?’

‘He did not and could quote from the holy writings, chapter and verse, to support his contention that the religious life was never meant to deny people what he described as that basic part of their humanity.’

‘That must have brought forth some response from the Venerable Mac Faosma?’

‘Indeed, it did. His words were quite violent and… oh!’

The young man raised a hand to his mouth and looked shocked at the admission he had made.

Fidelma did not comment. ‘I presume that Abbot Erc was well aware of their conflict?’

Brother Cu Mara nodded unhappily.

Fidelma sighed. ‘It seems our inquiry begins to show that poor Cinaed was not so universally loved as it was first claimed. He had a fierce antagonist and that antagonist had supporters in this abbey.’

‘But it was merely a conflict of ideas — celibacy versus non-celibacy. That has been debated within many communities and at many times.’

‘True enough,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘However, to begin to see the garden one must clear away the weeds.’

Brother Cu Mara looked bewildered.

‘I don’t follow.’

‘It is of no consequence. Your information is most useful. Is there anything else that I should have been informed about?’

The young steward continued to look puzzled.

Sister Fidelma unbent.

‘Last night we were asking about people who nurtured possible enmity against the Venerable Cinaed. We are at first informed that everyone loved him. Little by little we learn that the Venerable Mac Faosma was his scholastic enemy and used violent words against him. Not just that, but that the Venerable Mac Faosma had a following. Were they equally violent towards the Venerable Cinaed? Were there others who displayed hostility to him?’

Brother Cu Mara shrugged.

‘I do not think that the Venerable Mac Faosma or any of his supporters would go so far as-’