Peter Tremayne - Master of Souls

Fidelma used the old word of urgarad to explain the importance of the prohibition, which meant they were forbidden under ancient law to disobey her on pain of dire misfortune. They knew it was very dangerous to break such a prohibition. The High King Conari, who reigned in the first century of the Christian era, had broken such a prohibition and his peaceful reign descended into violence, plunder and rapine before culminating in his assassination.

Brother Cu Mara grew angry. His face reddened.

‘This is a very high-handed way of going about things,’ he said stiffly. ‘I am steward of this abbey and it is my right to know what has happened to the members of its community.’

He paused, finding himself staring into the narrowed, glinting eyes of Fidelma.

‘You know who I am, rechtaire?’ Her voice was soft but sharp as a needlepoint. ‘I do not have to remind you. Therefore, do not speak to me again of your office and its rights. I know them well enough. Just as you know mine.’

Brother Cu Mara’s face was bright scarlet. He hesitated and then gave a sour grimace.

‘Abbot Erc will want to see you immediately,’ he persisted stubbornly.

Fidelma glanced at the darkening sky.

‘We will see him later. I want hot baths to be prepared for all of us. Then we shall eat. After that Brother Eadulf and I will attend the abbot. Do I make myself clear, rechtaire?’

Brother Cu Mara was about to say something more when he appeared to have second thoughts. He seemed to realise that he had come up against an immovable object.

‘Abbot Erc will be displeased,’ he muttered audibly as he turned away.

‘And his displeasure will be matched and made insignificant by my own annoyance if we are kept arguing at the gate in this fashion,’ Fidelma snapped after him.

Brother Cu Mara turned back.

‘It shall be done as you say, Fidelma of Cashel.’ He placed heavy emphasis on her title. ‘I will order Sister Sinnchene to prepare baths for you and Brother Eadulf and… and this man.’ He nodded towards Esumaro. ‘Sister Easdan can join her sisters at their evening ablutions and-’

‘Sister Easdan will remain with us for the time being in the guests’ hostel,’ Fidelma replied firmly. ‘That goes for Conri’s man as well.’

The steward’s jaw dropped a little in his astonishment. He seemed about to protest again and then he swallowed.

‘So be it,’ he said tightly.

‘Good.’ Fidelma suddenly smiled in satisfaction. ‘Get someone to see to our horses. We have ridden long and hard today. Make sure that they are well looked after and fed. They belong to Mugron the trader.’

They paused only to remove their saddle bags before Fidelma led the way to the hospitium.

Brother Cu Mara had already set matters in motion and members of the community appeared to be running here and there at his orders.

When they reached the guests’ hostel, Eadulf looked censoriously at Fidelma.

‘You were rather hard on the steward,’ he said.

‘No more than he deserved. There is much to be done and a killer to be caught.’

She turned to the rest of them, to Sister Easdan, Esumaro and the warrior Socht, an old name which suited the man’s temperament well for it meant ‘silence’.

‘You heard me tell the steward that you were all under an urgarad, that

Sister Easdan and Socht nodded immediately, but she had to explain to Esumaro, who as a Gaul was unaware of what this prohibition meant.

‘You see, I want no word of what you have experienced reaching anyone until I hear that Conri and his men have been successful in rescuing the other prisoners on Seanach’s Island and capturing Olcan and his men.’

That they could all understand.

‘Then we are agreed?’ When they confirmed it, she turned to the impassive warrior. ‘One thing, Socht. Although we are within the walls of the abbey, it does not mean we are safe here. I believe that there is an evil here as great as any we faced on Seanach’s Island. So keep your arms ready at all times and do not sleep too deeply.’

‘I understand, lady,’ grunted the warrior.

‘That goes for all of you,’ she added, glancing at them. ‘Be watchful.’

As she finished speaking Sister Sinnchene entered the hostel. She seemed sullen and a faint look of disapproval crossed her features as her eyes fell on Sister Easdan. It was obvious that she had already received orders from the steward.

‘The baths are already prepared for you and Sister Easdan, lady,’ she announced. ‘The Saxon brother, the stranger and the warrior will have to wait their turn.’

Fidelma returned her sour look with a smile.

‘I know, Sister Sinnchene. The facilities of this hospitium are primitive and you have no separate arrangements for men and women to bathe at the same time.’

Only Eadulf noticed that she was being humorous.

The custodian of the hospitium stood stiffly, doubtless recalling the nature of their last meeting.

‘Very well,’ Fidelma said, rising to follow. ‘Sister Easdan and I will bathe first.’

‘I will take the opportunity to nap,’ Eadulf said, sinking on to one of the beds with a groan. ‘I have promised myself two things on this trip — one, never to get on a small boat ever again, certainly not at sea, and two, to avoid getting on a horse when I can use my two legs to walk.’

Socht regarded him with astonishment but diplomatically made no comment.

Some time later, when everyone had bathed and eaten and was feeling relaxed, Fidelma and Eadulf made their way through the abbey complex to Abbot Erc’s chambers. They had left the others in the hospitium and Fidelma had warned them once again not to say anything if anyone seized the opportunity to try to get information from them.

Abbot Erc was sitting staring moodily into the fire crackling in the hearth in his chamber. Behind his chair stood Brother Cu Mara, a study in peevishness.

The abbot raised a stern face and bade them enter and seat themselves.

‘My steward has reported your arrival with that of one of our missing sisters and a stranger. Yet the lord Conri has not returned with you. Why is that?’

‘All will become clear soon,’ Fidelma replied easily.

The abbot’s frown deepened.

‘My steward also tells me that you refused to answer any of his questions and seemed to be making a secret of your journey and its results. Is that so? For I would look upon that as an insult to this holy establishment.’

Fidelma returned his angry look with a diplomatic smile.

‘No insult is intended to you or your house, Abbot Erc. Let me explain, if I may, for I am sure you will understand my reasoning on this matter.’

The abbot gestured impatiently and she interpreted it as a sign to continue.

‘Sometimes the rule of an abbey must give way to the rule of law,’ she began.

Brother Cu Mara started to sneer from behind the abbot’s chair. ‘The rule of God comes above all things,’ he interrupted.

‘There is no rule of God that is contravened here,’ replied Fidelma evenly. ‘Tell me where it is written in scripture that I must answer the questions of a young rechtaire?’

Abbot Erc raised a hand as if to dissipate their exchange.

‘You were invited to this abbey to resolve a murder and the abduction of some of our members,’ he pointed out. ‘Obviously you have news of this and so we would expect you to inform us what that news is.’

‘There can be no restrictions placed on a dalaigh qualified to the level of anruth, as I am, other than by the Chief Brehon of the kingdom.’ Fidelma kept her voice even. ‘However, I expect to be able to tell you everything within the next day or two at the most. My intention is to

Abbot Erc looked shocked.