Peter Tremayne - The Leper's bell

‘Just so, just so,’ muttered Brehon Dathal. ‘So we can say that the poison was administered when he returned to his chamber…?’

Brother Conchobar let out a gasp of protest.

‘I have not yet stated a cause of death. I need to examine-’

Brehon Dathal waved him aside.

‘A formality, a formality that is all.’ He was already looking at a couple of pottery mugs on a side table. He picked them up and sniffed suspiciously at them. Behind his back, Finguine glanced across to Fidelma and raised his eyes to the ceiling with a shrug. Brehon Dathal was stroking his chin. ‘He came in, drank the poison in innocence and thus died.’

Suddenly he swung back to the two religieux. ‘Did the bishop have any enemies that you know of? Has he been in recent arguments?’

One of the two young men glanced at Fidelma before dropping his gaze. ‘On our return to Cashel, he was seen to have a very fierce argument,’ he said quietly.

‘With whom?’ pressed Brehon Dathal eagerly.

‘With the Saxon. The same Saxon with whom he had a fierce argument nearly a month ago.’

‘The Saxon?’ demanded Brehon Dathal.

‘He means Eadulf,’ Fidelma said quietly. She had gone suddenly cold at the implied accusation.

‘That’s right. With Brother Eadulf,’ confirmed the religieux.

‘What were these arguments about?’

‘I can tell you that…’ began Fidelma but Brehon Dathal waved her into silence.

‘Let an unbiased witness speak. You are the wife to this Saxon and therefore will present a bias in his favour.’

‘I think it was on matters of religious disagreement,’ said the brother. ‘They argued with harsh words and I know that on both occasions, when I attended the bishop afterwards, he was upset and went so far as to say that Cashel was the poorer when the sister of the king consorted with a-’

‘I cannot listen to this!’ snapped Fidelma.

Brehon Dathal turned on her disapprovingly.

‘I have already suggested that your presence here is not needed. You may go, and tell Brother Eadulf to hold himself ready to answer some questions.’

Finguine glanced sympathetically at her as she left. Behind her she heard old Brother Conchobar demanding permission to remove Bishop Petrán’s body so that he could examine it properly.

Eadulf was not in their chambers when she glanced in. She hurried down the grey stone corridor, trying not to run. Crossing the yard she saw Caol, the warrior, grooming a horse.

‘Have you seen my husband, Caol?’ she asked him, slightly breathless.

The warrior smiled in greeting as he stood up, brush in hand.

‘Not so long ago. I’ve just rubbed his horse down before he left again.’

She stared at him.

‘Left again?’ she said with emphasis.

The warrior nodded. ‘He went out early this morning, after breakfast. He said he was going for a ride but I think he went to see Conchoille, the woodsman. Then he came back, apparently in a hurry, and asked me to prepare his horse to go out again. While I was doing so, he disappeared for a short while, returning with a filled saddle bag, and then was off.’

Fidelma was standing still in her astonishment. ‘With a full saddle bag?’

‘It looked as though it was packed for a long trip.’

‘Did you see which way he went when he left Cashel?’

‘I did not. I needed to start rubbing down my own horse.’ He gestured to the horse that he had been attending to.

Fidelma paused for a moment before turning and making her way to the main buildings, again trying not to run. She returned to her chambers. Entering, she peered round more carefully this time. There was a note on the pillow of their bed, left in such a manner that it should have been immediately spotted. It was from Eadulf.

I could not wait. I have a lead, which I think it important that I should follow. I need to go to the abbey of Coimán in the west. I may be gone several days.

She sat down abruptly, head in hands, and groaned aloud.

For Fidelma, the rest of the day passed in a turmoil of thought. Her mind was not only filled with worry for Alchú but now for Eadulf as well. She even found herself thinking the unthinkable. Had Eadulf really left Cashel to follow a clue or was Brehon Dathal’s suspicion correct? She had witnessed the verbal violence of his anger against old Petrán and she had seen his unusual explosive temper on several occasions now. Had he been involved in the killing of the elderly bishop? Surely Eadulf had not killed Petrán! That was a ridiculous idea. But why had he vanished from Cashel at this particular time?

When Brehon Dathal had come to their chambers to question Eadulf and she had shown him the note, a triumphant gleam had come into the judge’s eye. She knew exactly what he was thinking. The old Brehon had left saying that he would have to send someone in search of Eadulf. That could have only one interpretation. Brehon Dathal believed in Eadulf’s guilt. She had gone to her brother, who was discussing the matter with Finguine.

Colgú had regarded her anxious features sympathetically.

‘I cannot interfere in the actions of a Brehon while pursuing an investigation, Fidelma. You know that well enough.’

Finguine had softened the blow a little by adding: ‘Brehon Dathal should have waited for Brother Conchobar’s report before making his mind up about poison.’

‘Why hasn’t Brother Conchobar finished his examination?’ she demanded angrily.

‘Brother Conchobar has just been called to Lios Mhór on some errand of mercy. The living require his medical skills as well as the dead,’ Colgú replied. ‘He told his assistant that he had completed his examination of Petrán’s body, but no one seems to know what conclusion he had reached.’ He glanced anxiously at his tanist. ‘Finguine and I have been discussing this matter. We have become worried about Dathal’s behaviour recently. I think it might be time to consider his retirement as Chief Brehon. It has been noticed that he is too fond of leaping to conclusions before he is apprised of all the facts. I think it is a sign of age. He and Bishop Ségdae are constantly at one another’s throats. It is not good to have that conflict in government.’

Fidelma shook her head immediately. ‘That must not happen until Eadulf’s name is cleared of this accusation. You can imagine what stories will spread if you dismiss Dathal while this matter is outstanding.’

It was Finguine who answered.

‘Yet it will be for the good of the kingdom that it is done, cousin.’

‘But not for the good of Eadulf,’ she replied.

‘We were hoping to get your advice as a dálaigh about how to enforce Dathal’s retirement,’ Colgú said.

‘I cannot advise you on that, brother, at a time when I have such vested interests. I do believe Brehon Dathal has acted precipitately in the case of Petrán’s death but then I would have to say that, wouldn’t I? You might imagine what a good dálaigh would make of the purpose behind my advice if I agreed with you.’

Colgú regarded his sister with an expression of sorrow.

‘You are right. We should not have mentioned it,’ he said. ‘Nevertheless, it is on my mind and must soon be dealt with. Dathal was — is — a just man and has been a good guide for this kingdom. But, as I say, I have had several recent reports of bad judgements.’

‘At the moment things rest with Brother Conchobar. When will we hear his report?’

‘When he returns from Lios Mhór. Meanwhile, what news of Eadulf?’

‘None except the note he left me.’

‘What could have possibly sent him to the abbey of Coimán?’ Her brother was puzzled. ‘And alone? He has to cross Uí Fidgente territory to get to it and if it is true that we have to contend with some Uí Fidgente plot, then he could be in a great deal of danger.’