Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

Fidelma glanced to Eadulf but the Saxon monk was too intent on dealing with his own crapulousness.

‘Then, indeed, he was abroad very early. Is that his custom?’

The young monk nodded an unconcerned affirmative as he sniffed the aromatic air.

The rotund Cruinn bustled over to them, bringing a tray with fresh baked bread, still fragrant from the oven, with clotted cream, fruit and cold meats, and a jug of mead. Having set down the tray, the corpulent hostel-keeper requested their leave to return to her own house for, she said, she had promised to go picking healing herbs with her daughter. Fidelma took it on herself to dismiss her with thanks, saying that they would be able to manage. As Cruinn left, Eadulf reached out a shaky hand immediately for the jug of mead. He grinned weakly at Fidelma’s disapproving stare.

‘Similia similibus curantur,’ he muttered, pouring the mead from the pitcher into the beaker.

‘Oh no, Brother.’ The young Brother Dianach turned on him in reproof. ‘Like things are not cured by like things. You are quite, quite wrong.’

The young man looked so totally serious that Eadulf paused with the beaker midway to his lips. Fidelma grinned mischievously.

‘And what would your advice be, Brother Dianach?’ she prompted.

The young man turned his gaze to Fidelma and reflected on the matter earnestly.

‘Contraria contrariis curantur … opposites are cured by opposites. That is the principle that is taught at Armagh. Just consider the affect of giving things that produce the same illness to one who already has it. It merely increases the illness. Surely the root of all medicine is tocounter the illness by using that which gives the opposite affect not that which enhances the condition?’

‘What do you say, Eadulf?’ chuckled Fidelma in amusement. ‘You have studied medicine in Tuam Brecain.’

In silent answer, Eadulf gulped at the contents of the beaker, shutting his eyes and shivering with a look halfway between agony and ecstasy. He gave a long, drawn out gasp of pleasure.

Brother Dianach gazed at him in astonishment.

‘I did not know that the Saxon brother had studied at one of our great schools of medicine,’ he remarked sharply. ‘You did not say this last night. However, you should know that you should not be taking alcohol to counter your intemperance. It is a shameful thing, Brother.’

Eadulf closed his eyes, groaned and poured a second beaker of the mead and made no reply at all. While Fidelma and Brother Dianach concluded eating their first meal of the day, Eadulf barely touched anything substantial. When the young monk had excused himself to return to his room, Fidelma leant across and touched Eadulf s arm.

‘Do not lecture me,’ groaned Eadulf before she could say anything. ‘Let me die in peace.’

‘All the same, the young boy is right, Eadulf,’ she said seriously. ‘You need your wits about you today. Too much mead will dull them.’

Eadulf forced his eyes open.

‘I swear that this is all I shall take. Just enough to get me started through the day. At least the mead has cured my pounding head … for the moment.’

‘Then let us go for a walk and prepare ourselves for the negotiations. Did you hear, by the way, what Brother Dianach said about Brother Solin?’

Eadulf began to rise. He frowned.

‘Only that he had gone out early. Why? Is there something else to be learnt from that?’

‘Rather than having gone out early, he did not even come in at any time during the night.’

Eadulf looked at her with interest.

‘How do you know?’

‘I was up before your infamous cock crowed. Brother Solin’s door was open just as it had been when I retired to my room last night. The coverlet of the bed was undisturbed just as it had been last night. The logic is that he never came back to the hostel.’

Eadulf ran a hand reflectively through his hair.

‘He was still in the feasting hall when we left, wasn’t he? No, wait a moment. Young Brother Dianach had retired early. A pious, sober body is that one. Now, I seem to recall that Brother Solin left not long afterwards. Before we did. In fact, shortly after Murgal made his dramatic exit.’

‘So where has he been all night?’

‘Are you saying that it may have some bearing on what he is doing here?’

‘I do not know. But we must watch out for Brother Solin. I do not like him.’

They were about to leave the hostel when the door opened and the object of their conversation entered. He looked startled at seeing them standing as if waiting for him and then hurriedly composed his features into a bland smile, wishing them a good morning.

‘We have not been outside to see if it is good or not,’ Fidelma returned innocently. ‘Is it so?’

‘You should rise early, as I do,’ Brother Solin said unperturbed, moving to the table and seating himself. He began to help himself liberally to the food which remained on the tray. There was no doubting that he was in good appetite.

‘Have you always been an early riser?’ continued Fidelma, her tone guileless. ‘I have difficulties, don’t you, Eadulf?’

‘Oh, indeed, I do,’ agreed Eadulf, entering into the spirit of the banter. ‘Especially this morning, I was disturbed by that confounded cock crowing. Is that what plucked you from your slumber, Brother Solin?’

‘No, I was awake earlier. I have always been an early riser.’

Eadulf exchanged a glance with Fidelma but she shook her head, not wishing Eadulf to accuse Brother Solin openly of telling an untruth.

‘I suppose it is good to begin the day with a strenuous walk before breakfast?’ she prompted, returning to the table and sliding back into her seat.

‘Nothing like it,’ agreed Brother Solin complacently, tearing a piece of bread and helping himself to another slice of cheese.

Eadulf started to cough to smother his indignation. One thing he had noticed, and he was sure Fidelma had noticed the same, was that Brother Solin was wearing the same clothes that he had worn on the previous evening during the feast. A man of Brother Solin’s standing would always have extra clothing to change into for special occasions.

Fidelma had also noticed that Solin had not changed his clothessince the previous evening and spoke hurriedly in case Eadulf was going to comment on the fact.

‘Perhaps you would go to my cell and collect the material I have brought for the meeting with Laisre and his council?’ she asked him pointedly.

Eadulf took the hint and went up to the bed chambers, pausing at the top of the stair to listen to the rest of the conversation.

‘Are there good places to walk around here, Brother Solin?’ he heard Fidelma asking.

‘Indifferently good,’ replied the cleric.

‘Where did you go?’

‘Beyond the cluster of houses at the fork of the river, just a quarter of a mile from the gates of the ráth,’ came back the reply readily enough.

The answers were given with such assurance that Eadulf knew that Fidelma would not be able to shake Solin from his story that he had simply been walking early. What could the cleric from Armagh be up to? Indeed, were they being unjust in suspecting that he was involved in anything subversive at all?

As if she had read his very thoughts, Eadulf heard Fidelma lower her voice confidentially.

‘Since we are alone, Brother Solin, let me ask you, between ourselves, why are you really here?’

There was a pause and then Brother Solin chuckled deeply.

‘I have told you before, Sister Fidelma, and yet you do not believe me.’

‘I would like to hear the truth.’

‘Whose truth? You do not like my truth, so what must I say?’

‘Do you take an oath, by the body of Christ, that you are on a mission from Ultan of Armagh merely to assess the strength of the Faith in the five kingdoms? Why? Armagh has no jurisdiction here. This is where the bishop of Imleach rules.’