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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Medieval Ireland

Chalice of Blood (30 page)

BOOK: Chalice of Blood
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‘So there are other ways the killer could gain entrance to the abbey?’ queried Eadulf.
‘I will show you.’ Gormán said, setting off along the eastern wall, which formed part of the new stone building where Brother Donnchad and the Venerable Bróen had their chambers. Fidelma recalled that there was a small gap in the wall.
‘Did you suspect the killer would come to the obsequies?’ Eadulf said as they squeezed through the gap.
‘I suspected the killer could not resist attending the funeral of Glassán,’ she admitted.
‘Then you must know who he is, or rather suspect who he is,’ protested Eadulf. ‘Wouldn’t it be best to share that knowledge with me?’
‘I still do not have the final link to put all this together,’ she admitted. ‘That is the frustrating thing. I can guess, but guessing is not proof.’
‘So where do we do we go from here?’
‘I need to have a further word with Lady Eithne. Have the horses ready tomorrow after we break our fast, Gormán. We will ride to her fortress in the morning.’
 
 
T
he clouds were piled high and fluffy against the blue expanse of the sky. Fidelma noticed several swallows flying high above them, their long pointed wings, deeply forked tails and acrobatic flight unmistakable. The signs were that the weather was going to be dry and sunny. In fact, it would be another month before the swallows would begin to flock together and disappear
en masse
towards the south. With Gormán leading, they left the abbey on horseback and began their journey.
The ride to Lady Eithne’s fortress was a pleasant one. This time, although a few sentinels were still in evidence along the short route, they were not challenged until they reached the gates of An Dún. Even then, they were kept only a few moments before the gates swung open to allow the three of them to enter. Once again, however, it was only Fidelma and Eadulf who were allowed into the great hall to see Lady Eithne.
‘Well, lady,’ greeted the tall woman, standing in front of her chair in the great hall, ‘I was told that you had abandoned the abbey.’
‘Indeed?’ Fidelma was puzzled. ‘Then you were told falsely.’
‘Did you not ride off with Cumscrad of the Fir Maige Féne to investigate some paltry complaint of his and abandon the investigation of my son’s death?’
‘No complaint is paltry, lady, when it involves death. Speaking of death, I was surprised that you did not attend the abbey last night.’
A look of uncertainty appeared on Lady Eithne’s face. ‘I do not understand.’
‘I speak of the obsequies of your master builder, Glassán.’
Lady Eithne seemed irritated. ‘Glassán? The master builder of the abbey? Why would I attend the funeral of an artisan?’
Fidelma was surprised. ‘I thought Glassán was the creator of the memorial to your son.’
‘Creator? He was merely a workman and, as such, of no interest to me. The true creator is Brother Lugna.’ Her blue eyes were cold.
The woman’s indifference chilled Fidelma.
‘You feel it is not a matter of concern that the master builder has been killed while working on a project that you are financing?’
‘The work of rebuilding the abbey is entirely in the hands of Brother Lugna, as I have explained before,’ Lady Eithne replied distantly. ‘I am not expected to be in communication with the workmen he employed to do it.’
‘Did you know that there have been several accidents on the building site? Eadulf was knocked unconscious when a stone fell on the same site.’
‘I am told that accidents can happen,’ Lady Eithne replied unemotionally. ‘Is this why you came here, to find out why I was not at this workman’s funeral?’
‘We came to clear up a few matters which I believe are related. You told us that the rebuilding of the abbey was meant as a memorial to your son, Donnchad.’
‘I did. It is.’
‘But the rebuilding started three years ago,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘Did you not expect Donnchad to return from his pilgrimage when you commissioned Brother Lugna to start the rebuilding?’
Lady Eithne uttered a sound like a hiss. ‘It is a lucky thing you are a guest in my house, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham.’ There was ice in her voice.
‘What Eadulf meant was that you could not have started out with the intention of rebuilding the abbey in honour of your son,’ intervened Fidelma quickly. ‘You will forgive him for his clumsy use of our language.’ She knew that Eadulf spoke the language almost perfectly. But Fidelma shared his curiosity about the timing of the idea of creating the abbey as a memorial to her son.
Lady Eithne appeared slightly mollified. ‘The decision to rebuild the abbey was made before the return of my son,’ she said tightly. ‘That poor Donnchad died merely made me decide to dedicate the rebuilding to his honour.’
‘It is thought among the brethren that the idea for rebuilding came from Brother Lugna,’ Eadulf suggested, unabashed by her previous rebuke.
‘It may well have been,’ she admitted coldly. ‘Brother Lugna is such a clever and far-sighted young man. Needless to say, I am totally in agreement with his ideas.’
‘I am curious as to why you did not negotiate the idea with Abbot Iarnla?’ Fidelma made the sentence into a question.
‘Abbot Iarnla has been a long time at the abbey and he is conservative in his outlook. I have already tried to suggest this to you. He would be happy if all things remained exactly the way they are or, rather, were. He has shown himself jealous of Lugna and his ideas. Indeed, my ideas. I would like to see, before I die, a great complex of buildings rising at Lios Mór as a beacon to the Faith, not just here but throughout Christendom. I am sure that your brother, the King, would approve of such tribute in stone to the Faith in his kingdom. A tribute that will last for all time.’
‘
Nihil aeternum est
, nothing lasts forever,’ came unbidden to Eadulf’s lips before he could stop himself from uttering it.
The Lady Eithne turned to him with a disapproving scowl. ‘You disappoint me, Brother Eadulf. I would not expect such a philosophy from a man of your cloth. The one thing that will endure is the Faith and this will be its greatest physical memorial. I am determined upon it.’
‘Of course,’ Fidelma said hurriedly, with a frown of warning at Eadulf. ‘The buildings of Lios Mór are beginning to look impressive.’
‘Brother Lugna has been a great asset to the abbey. In a few years from now, everyone will be speaking of the greatness of Lios Mór. I feel humbled that I have been able to play a part in its creation.’
‘You have been and are most generous to the abbey,’ agreed Fidelma.
‘Is it not an edict from the Council of Nicaea that places of worship to the Faith should be built wherever possible?’
‘I think that was meant as—’
‘Indeed, lady, Lios Mór owes you much,’ Fidelma cut across Eadulf. Lady Eithne did not appear to notice.
‘I simply follow the teachings of Brother Lugna,’ Lady Eithne said. ‘He says that the Blessed Timothy taught that the rich should give generously to the Faith and in that way they will build themselves a good foundation in heaven.’
Once again, Fidelma shot Eadulf a warning glance before he could attempt to correct her interpretation of the writings of Timothy of Ephesus.
‘It seems that you are lucky to have Brother Lugna to guide you in these matters,’ she observed drily.
‘Indeed, I am. For he has brought a refreshing wind from Rome. Here, we have fallen into lax and immoral ways. Under his abbacy, new rules will clear away all that is corrupt at Lios Mór.’
‘Under his abbacy?’ queried Eadulf.
‘Abbot Iarnla, as I have said, is old and set in his ways. He must move with the times and give way to Brother Lugna soon.’
‘I am sure that you take pride in seeing the development of the abbey. Your generosity must be appreciated by the brethren,’ Fidelma went on before Eadulf could say more.
‘I contribute what little I can.’
‘I am told that you were always of a kind and generous nature.’
Lady Eithne frowned uncertainly. ‘I have always tried to keep to the rules of the Faith and raise my two sons to praise the Lord and do His great works.’
‘I was thinking of Brother Gáeth.’
‘Brother Gáeth?’ She blinked in surprise. ‘What has he to do … ?’ Then she smiled sadly. ‘A poor creature. My husband had more to do with him than I did. He came as a refugee with his father and mother. Our Brehon advised us that we could give sanctuary but not freedom and so they became
daer-fudir
on our land.’
‘There was no question that the father, Selbach I think his name was, was unjustly sentenced of the crime of which he was accused?’
‘Not at all. The Uí Liatháin made representations to retrieve Selbach from our jurisdiction and presented testimony as to how Selbach killed the chief of the Uí Liatháin by stealth. We gave them assurances that Selbach and his family would remain as
daer-fudir
on our land and they went away, not happy but satisfied that Selbach would not trouble them any more.’
‘And Gáeth was raised on your estate?’
‘He was a field worker, that is all.’
‘He was a friend of Donnchad, I’m told.’
She laughed derisively. ‘Friend is not the word I would use. As a child Gáeth used to run after both my sons although it was
Donnchad who showed him more kindness and compassion than Cathal.’
‘I thought he became Donnchad’s soul friend?’
‘A matter which I thoroughly disapproved of. Even Abbot Iarna tried to persuade Donnchad to choose someone else.’
‘Yet you allowed Gáeth to go with your sons to join the brethren in the abbey.’
‘My weakness is that I indulged my sons, particularly my younger son, Donnchad. He pleaded with me and so I agreed. It was part of Donnchad’s kindness, to keep the poor simpleton happy.’
‘Surely he is no simpleton,’ reproved Eadulf, realising that she was not the first person to use the word in connection with Gáeth.
‘If not a simpleton, than a cunning young creature,’ she sniffed in reply. ‘He was much like his father, Selbach, and doubtless will end up the same way.’
‘And was that why you instructed Abbot Iarnla to ensure, if he granted him the right to join the breathren, that he remained as a
daer-fudir
within the community?’
Lady Eithne smiled. ‘The law is clear. Not until the third generation of the family of a
daer-fudir
can freedom be achieved. The Uí Liatháin made the judgement and we had to follow it. Abbot Iarnla agreed to the condition. When Donnchad returned from his pilgrimage, his sense of generous kindliness had altered and thankfully he realised that Gáeth could not be treated as anyone special.’
‘You do not like Gáeth?’ Fidelma put the question softly.
‘Not like him? Why should I feel anything at all about him? He was just a field worker. I cannot be expected to like or dislike those who are nothing to me.’
‘Yet Gáeth grew up with your sons and your son Donnchad believed him to be his friend,’ Eadulf pointed out.
‘I believe that in my stables there is an old workhorse who grew up with my sons,’ replied the lady in a cutting tone. ‘Am I suppose to like the horse too? It is just a horse.’
Fidelma rose to her feet. ‘We have troubled you long enough, Lady Eithne,’ she said decisively, glancing at Eadulf who also rose. ‘We thank you for your time and your hospitality.’
Lady Eithne raised a hand and beckoned to one of her attendants who had stood quietly in the background awaiting her orders. The man came forward.
‘My steward will see you out,’ she said. ‘I hope you find the culprit. When you return to Cashel, remember me to your brother, the King, and tell him something of the great work being done here at Lios Mór.’
‘When I return to Cashel, lady, I hope I shall be able to report a resolution of this matter,’ Fidelma said solemnly and bade Lady Eithne farewell.
 
On the road back to the abbey, Fidelma called a halt, ostensibly so that they could water their horses by a tiny stream. While Gormán led the beasts to the water, Fidelma sat on a nearby boulder. She seemed deep in troubled thought.
Eadulf guessed what she was thinking. ‘She seems a cold sort of woman,’ he observed.
‘She certainly does not like Abbot Iarnla,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘And is enamoured of Brother Lugna.’
‘Does not like Abbot Iarnla?’ grunted Eadulf. ‘Last time we saw her she more or less accused him of being her son’s murderer because he was jealous of young talent.’
‘It’s not beyond the realms of possibility,’ sighed Fidelma. ‘I have known such things happen before. In fact, the thought crossed my mind the night he paid me a visit to claim how powerless he is.’ Fidelma had told Eadulf of her night visitor.
‘Abbot Iarnla told you that it was almost a good thing that Donnchad was murdered so that he had an excuse to send for us to tell us about the problems with Brother Lugna and Lady Eithne,’ said Eadulf. ‘Do you think he precipitated the cause to send for you?’
‘It occurred to me.’
‘Well, now, we are told that the plan is to replace Abbot Iarnla with Brother Lugna as abbot.’
Fidelma did not reply. ‘I think I can work everything out but it’s the basic motive that confuses me. There is just one thing I am not clear on, something that does not fit correctly here. Something that I am overlooking and I can’t quite put my finger on it. It is the linchpin, it holds together all the parts.’ She shrugged and stood up. ‘Let me think for awhile and then I will tell you what I believe happened but it is all supposition.’
They remounted their horses and continued in silence. They had just passed the spot where the roadway branched southward to Ard Mór when a figure moving up a hill to the south of them caught Fidelma’s attention. It was scrambling up towards a mound near the top of the hill. It was a man. He had his back to them and so he didn’t notice them. Fidelma halted to stare up at him. When he reached the mound he disappeared behind it.
BOOK: Chalice of Blood
4.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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