Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

‘Just so.’

‘So if we want to see this book we should go to the chamber of the Venerable Mac Faosma?’

The librarian looked a little awkward. ‘He is reclusive and does not receive visitors.’

Eadulf chuckled. ‘From what I hear, the man is not reclusive enough to refuse to take part in scholastic debates in front of hundreds of students.’

‘Taking part in a debate on a platform is not the same thing as receiving people in intimate surroundings,’ pointed out the librarian.

‘It is a fine point that you are making. Is the behaviour of this man so strange?’ Eadulf smiled.

The librarian shrugged. ‘Let me say that all great men are entitled to peculiarities.’

‘And the Venerable Mac Faosma is, in your estimation, a great man?’ Eadulf asked pointedly.

Fidelma gave a warning glance at him before smiling at the librarian.

‘We are grateful for your help and may seek it again. You have a great library here, Brother Eolas, and I hope that we may have time to spend a while viewing your magnificent treasures.’

Brother Eolas gave a half-bow, trying to appear dignified, but it was clear that her words gave him pleasure.

Outside, she turned to Eadulf.

‘No need to annoy the librarian, Eadulf. But I have been thinking that we should call on the Venerable Mac Faosma. We will wait until this afternoon.’

‘What of the business of the Abbess Faife?’ inquired Eadulf. ‘After all, that is what has brought us here.’

‘I am not neglecting that,’ she assured him. ‘But the trail that led to her death is a fortnight old while the death of the Venerable Cinaed is still fairly fresh. I thought we could spend another day here and then set out to see what leads we could pick up in the land of the Corco Duibhne.’

‘But surely there are no obvious connections between the two deaths?’

Fidelma grimaced. ‘There is the connection that Abbess Faife and the Venerable Cinaed were both well-respected and important members of the same religious house. And it seems they shared a similar political outlook about the future of the Ui Fidgente. Coincidences happen, but not often.’

Eadulf shrugged as if dismissing the point.

‘That does not mean a connection between their deaths. The abbess was travelling outside the abbey while Cinaed was an elderly scholar still

‘As you say, there are no obvious connections.’ Fidelma put a slight emphasis on the word ‘obvious’.

‘You sound as though you think there is a connection?’ Eadulf pressed.

‘I have told you before, you cannot make suppositions without facts. For the moment, I want to see what it was that Cinaed wrote to upset people in this abbey and which may… I say, may… have led to his death.’

Eadulf slowly shook his head.

‘Every time I come to this western part of your brother’s kingdom, it is always the Ui Fidgente behind all the mischief.’

‘But with Conri as their warlord, they have become calmer. The defeat of Eoganan at Cnoc Aine has caused them to settle down. It is only the people who have been marked by the conflict who yearn for the past.’

‘Remind me again, what is the basis of the quarrel between the Ui Fidgente and your family, the Eoghanacht?’

Fidelma took him by the arm, for they had been standing outside the door of the tech-screptra, and led him towards the hospitium. She explained as they walked.

‘It goes back some generations. The Ui Fidgente claimed admittance to the councils of Cashel and claimed the kingship. Needles to say, they were rejected, and since then until the time of Eoganan they have intrigued and plotted and several times risen up against the Eoghanacht of Cashel.’

‘I understand that,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘But from what I know of your laws of inheritance, I cannot understand how they can claim the kingship, which descends only through the Eoghanacht. I understand this business about the council, or what you call the derbhfine, having to elect the best man out of the extended family to the kingship. I know that there is no such thing as automatic inheritance by the eldest son as is our system in the Saxon lands. But I still cannot see the basis of their claim.’

‘Simple enough,’ replied Fidelma. ‘All the branches of the Eoghanacht trace their descent back to Eoghan Mor, the greatest king of Cashel, son of Ailill Olum, son of Mug Nuadat. That is why we are called Eoghanacht. However, the Ui Fidgente, when they sought entry to the council, made the claim that they had a better right to the throne at Cashel than the descendants of Eoghan Mor. The Ui Fidgente claimed that they were descended from the elder brother of Eoghan Mor, who was called Cormac

‘I see. But if all this was agreed generations ago, why is there such conflict between your peoples?’

‘Because the Ui Fidgente have never accepted the judgement that was given against them. Not even those who have made peace with Cashel have accepted that ruling. They mean to topple the Eoghanacht from power. Until now the Ui Fidgente have not submitted to paying tax without threat of force. They have not allowed any representative of the Eoghanacht into their lands. That is why I have tried to convince you that it was so important to come here when Conri actually came to Cashel to ask for our help. This could break through the antagonisms, as we have wanted. It could be the first real step to uniting the kingdom under Cashel.’

Eadulf sighed softly.

‘I think I begin to understand. It is hard for me, however, to appreciate all the nuances of the intrigues that go on here.’

Fidelma looked sympathetically at him.

‘Well,’ she said, as a bell began to toll, ‘that is something that it is not hard to understand. The bell for the etar-suth — the midday meal. Come, we can leave this talk of intrigue until later.’

The sturdy young brother stood with his arms folded outside the chamber of the Venerable Mac Faosma, his back against the door, barring their progress.

‘He has given instructions that he will not see you, Sister,’ the young man said stubbornly. He had identified himself as Brother Benen, the student and servant of the ageing scholar.

Fidelma began to tap her foot impatiently.

‘I am not here to argue, Brother Benen. Tell the Venerable Mac Faosma that he has no choice under law for I am not here as a religieuse but as a dalaigh investigating the crime of murder. I should not have to remind him that he is compelled to obey the law.’

The young man spread his arms helplessly.

‘I have already taken your message to my master, Sister Fidelma. He is adamant. He will see no woman of the Eoghanacht, especially one who seeks to assert authority in the lands of the Ui Fidgente. Nor one who is accompanied by a foreigner from beyond the seas.’

Fidelma glanced at Eadulf whose face was beginning to redden in ill-concealed anger.

‘Eadulf,’ she said quietly to him, ‘will you go to Conri and tell him that the Venerable Mac Faosma is refusing to see me and suggest that he report this blatant disregard for law to the abbot?’

Eadulf hesitated, looking from Fidelma to the implacable young religieux, and then inclined his head and hurried away.

When he was gone, Fidelma suddenly sat down cross-legged in front of Brother Benen. The young man frowned down at her.

‘What are you doing, Sister?’ he asked in an embarrassed tone. ‘You cannot sit in this corridor outside the door of these chambers.’

‘You will perceive, Brother Benen,’ she replied evenly, ‘that is precisely what I am doing. I have informed you that I am a dalaigh whose power is bestowed by the laws of the five kingdoms. The Venerable Mac Faosma is compelled by law to see me and answer my questions truthfully.’