Peter Tremayne - Penance of the Damned

The abbot wheeled round on Eadulf, his face livid, his mouth working. For a moment it looked as if the man would forget his religious calling and resort to violence.

Brehon Faolchair moved forward with a restraining hand to separate them.

‘I do believe that all our tempers have become a little heated today. It is not often that we find our trust abused – and this can often lead to anger.’

Fidelma shot a warning glance at Eadulf. In a way, he had been right in that the abbot had either been an innocent participant in the conspiracy at Mungairit Abbey, or that he had played his part with knowledge. In any event, she was sure that Prince Donennach’s sister Airmid had made a correct assessment that Nannid was watching the prince’s office with covetous eyes. At Mungairit, Fidelma had decided that she could allow some leniency in her judgement and did so. But now Nannid seemed to have emerged in what seemed, if Airmid was right, another conspiracy to overthrow her brother.

‘Brehon Faolchair is correct,’ Prince Donennach was saying to his cousin. ‘There is no need to be unduly harsh on the girl. I recall that Etromma, her mother, did serve our household well for many years. She has explained her absence from the fortress. It is easy to check.’

‘But in the meantime, we should keep her in the cells until we are sure,’ Abbot Nannid said eagerly.

‘I do not think we need be so drastic,’ Brehon Faolchair reproved him. ‘Anyway, if she were part of the escape plan, why should she return here? She would have ridden off with her friends. Is this not so?’

He asked the question of Fidelma who bowed her head in response.

‘The logic is unassailable,’ she replied solemnly.

‘Then I will suggest a compromise,’ Prince Donennach offered. ‘My sister, Airmid, will take her into her household, where she may feel safe. Then we can have time to consider matters.’

‘Once again, I protest.’ Abbot Nannid would not let it go. He said snidely, ‘Surely we do not have to continue appeasing the Eoghanacht?’

However, Brehon Faolchair was nodding his approval. ‘An excellent suggestion. So be it.’ He turned to the two warriors who had brought Ciarnat into the hall. ‘Take the girl to the lady Airmid and tell her that she is to be treated as a guest in her household by order of the prince. I will come later and explain the situation in more detail.’

As the men escorted Cairnat from the hall, Prince Donennach rose. Abbot Nannid did not disguise his rage as he too rose and, with a swift jerk of his head towards the prince, strode away. His steward, Brother Cuineain, followed – almost scampering behind him.

Prince Donennach looked after them as the doors of the hall were slammed shut with a force that shook the walls. He turned apologetically to those who remained. ‘This prelate cousin of mine is a man of fixed vision. I fear he admits of no opinions, judgements or interpretations other than his own. Remember, you have nine nights to find the fugitive and return him to face trial, otherwise we face difficult decisions.’

With this comment he left for his private chamber, followed by Brehon Faolchair.

Brother Tuaman rose, bowing to Prior Cuan. ‘Forgive me, I have more matters to attend to in respect of the debates between Imleach and the Mungairit.’

Prior Cuan regarded him in astonishment. ‘Do you mean, after all this, that you expect there to be some sort of debate continuing between Imleach and Mungairit?’

‘We should not abandon the work now.’ The steward’s voice rose slightly in admonishment. ‘We can still achieve much.’

‘For what purpose is this work when we have heard so clearly that Abbot Nannid will not retreat from his position? He and his acolytes will insist on keeping to the Penitentials and the argument that they should supplant the laws of the Five Kingdoms.’ Prior Cuan concluded dryly, ‘I, for one, would say that the only course was for us to return to Imleach.’

‘Just because the abbot has been removed from the debate,’ Brother Tuaman argued, ‘there is no need to abandon it entirely. After all, Abbot Segdae was reconsidering his view on this matter of church law.’

Fidelma could not contain her surprise at his remark.

‘Brother Tuamam, I have known Abbot Segdae since he became Abbot and chief ecclesiastical adviser to my brother. Are you seriously claiming that he was considering adopting the Penitentials? Is that what you mean?’

The tall man reared up and said in a pompous tone, ‘As steward it has been my privilege to have discussed many of these matters with the abbot, and his attitudes were not as fixed as has been suggested. I hope, when I have gathered my notes, to have similar discussions with Prior Cuan, to carry on this momentous work with our brethren of the Ui Fidgente churches.’

With an all-embracing bob of his head to the company, he strutted off.

Prior Cuan then struggled to his feet, pausing for a moment, leaning heavily on his stick. ‘I cannot believe Segdae would have contemplated supporting the Penitentials,’ he said.

‘You seem as surprised as we are, Prior Cuan,’ observed Eadulf.

‘I have only been Abbot Segdae’s deputy for a short period,’ Prior Cuan replied quietly, ‘yet it is the first time that I have heard of any compromise on this matter. Abbot Segdae and I discussed this topic several times together, as well as in the opening debate with Abbot Nannid. He was prepared to stand against the use of the Penitentials outside any religious community. Furthermore, he was even against their use within a community in which the entire fine or family of the community had not freely accepted them. I will have to tackle the subject further with Brother Tuaman. The fellow has an exaggerated idea of his own self-importance, as you may have noticed. It seems inconceivable that the abbot would reveal this change of attitude to him and not to me.’

‘Do you know much about your steward’s background?’ Fidelma asked.

‘About Brother Tuaman? Only that he has not been steward for very long. In fact, he arrived at Imleach shortly before me. He presented himself with good credentials, being well educated at the abbey on the island in Loch Lein. After Brother Madagan’s betrayal, which you know about, the abbot was desperate for a good steward and Brother Tuaman seemed well qualified.’

Fidelma smiled ruefully. ‘He is that. However, I shall look forward to learning what you find out about Abbot Segdae’s views and whether they had changed. It is an interesting point that the steward makes though,’ she added thoughtfully.

Prior Cuan asked: ‘Which point?’

‘If Abbot Segdae was about to make such a momentous decision with regard to accepting the rule of the Penitentials and bringing them into Imleach, then his sudden demise would seem providential to those arguing against them.’

Prior Cuan’s face went pale, and an expression of anger flashed across his usually benign features.

‘Are you accusing me of welcoming the death of the abbot!’ he said hoarsely.

Fidelma held up a protesting hand, palm outwards.

‘Forgive me, Prior Cuan. Eadulf here will tell you that I sometimes think aloud.’

Eadulf contrived to examine the floor for he knew that Fidelma’s ‘thinking aloud’ was often designed to bring forth a reaction.

‘I have a fault,’ she continued, ‘which is to examine matters from other points of view. If you look at all possibilities, no matter how ill conceived and odious they may be to one, then by either storing them in the mind or discarding them, one may well come to a better perspective.’

Prior Cuan stared at her for a moment, then gave a sound like an exclamation of disgust and limped off.

She stood for a moment before turning to Eadulf and commenting: ‘Interesting. I’d like to find out a little more about the background of this prior.’