Shroud for the Archbishop

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘Paul told Corinthians that marriage and procreation was no sin,’ Eadulf observed mildly.

  ‘But added that it was not so Godly as celibacy. I think Rome’s call on its clergy to become celibate holds great dangers.’

  ‘It is a suggestion only,’ countered Eadulf. ‘From the Council of Nicea until now the Roman church has only advised clerics under the rank of bishop not to sleep with their wives and, indeed, not to marry. But it does not forbid them to do so.’

  ‘They will in time,’ replied Fidelma. ‘John Chrysostom declared against cohabitation between religious at Antioch.’

  ‘You believe that celibacy is wrong then?’

  Fidelma grimaced.

  ‘Let those who want to be celibate, be celibate. But do not force everyone to be the same whether they are willing or not. Is it not a blasphemy to God to argue, in his name, that we can only serve him by rejecting him? Rejecting one of the greatest works of his creation. Does not Genesis say “ … male and female created he them, and God blessed them and God said unto them, Be fruitful and multiply …” Are we to deny that?’

  She paused as there came a knock on the door and the anxious-looking Sister Eafa entered, glancing firstly at Fidelma and then at Eadulf.

  ‘I am here, but I do not understand why I should be called,’ she said. As she spoke she tried to keep her calloused, sinewy hands held quietly before her but the nervous twisting betrayed an agitation.

  Fidelma smiled reassuringly and gestured for her to be seated. Eadulf saw that Fidelma’s anger at Abbess Wulfrun had now evaporated. He realised that the argument on celibacy was no more than a means of draining her incensed emotions at the insults of the abbess.

  ‘No more than a formality, Eafa,’ she said reassuringly. ‘I just wanted to know when you last saw Wighard alive?’

  The girl blinked uncertainly.

  ‘I do not understand, sister.’

  ‘Has the tesserarius informed you of our commission to investigate Wighard’s death?’

  ‘Yes, but …’

  ‘You doubtless saw Wighard at the evening meal which you attended with Abbess Wulfrun?’

  The girl nodded.

  ‘And after that?’ encouraged Fidelma.

  ‘No, not after that. I left Abbess Wulfrun talking with him at the refectory door. They were … were arguing about something. I retired to my room. I did not see him afterwards.’

  Eadulf leant forward with sudden interest.

  ‘Abbess Wulfrun was actually arguing with Wighard?’

  Eafa nodded her agreement again.

  ‘What were they arguing about?’

  Eafa shrugged.

  ‘I am not sure. I did not listen.’

  Fidelma smiled reassuringly at the girl again.

  ‘So you returned to your room, which was next to Abbess Wulfrun’s room?’

  ‘I did,’ Eafa replied quietly.

  ‘Did you venture out of your room again that night?’

  ‘Oh no!’

  Fidelma raised an eyebrow.

  ‘No?’

  The girl frowned, hesitated and then corrected herself: ‘I was summoned sometime later to the room of Abbess Wulfrun.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘Why?’ Eafa looked astonished at such a question being asked. ‘To help her to prepare for bed.’

  ‘Is that usual?’

  The girl looked uncertain.

  ‘I am not sure what you mean, sister.’

  ‘You are Abbess Wulfrun’s companion, is this not so?’

  A jerk of the head confirmed this question.

  ‘Then why do you have to do so many menial tasks which can be done by Abbess Wulfrun.’

  ‘Because …’ Eafa paused to consider, ‘she is a great lady.’

  ‘She is now simply of the sisterhood. Not even an abbess expects another of her house to wait upon her.’

  Eafa did not reply.

  ‘Come, do you feel that you have to be servant to the Abbess Wulfrun?’

  The light brown eyes of the girl came up and stared at Fidelma’s face. She seemed about to reply then she dropped her head. There was a faint nod.

  ‘Why?’ pressed Fidelma. ‘Great lady or abbess or lowly sister of the faith, Wulfrun does not have that right. You are servant only to God.’

  ‘I can say no more.’ The girl’s voice was tight. ‘I can only say that I waited on Abbess Wulfrun that night and when she had prepared for bed, I returned to my own room and went to sleep.’

  Fidelma was about to press further but she suddenly relented. Bludgeoning the girl would not achieve anything.

  ‘At what time was this, Eafa?’

  ‘I am not sure. It was well before midnight.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I came awake at the tolling of the midnight Angelus bell and then fell asleep again.’

  ‘Did you wake up after this?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Eadulf demanded, coming into the conversation for the first time. ‘You don’t think that you were awakened again?’

  ‘Well,’ the girl was frowning, ‘I think I came awake sometime later, hearing sounds of some commotion but I was so tired that I turned over and was asleep again within moments. At the breaking of our fast, on the next day, someone said that an Irish religieux had been caught in the gardens below and that he had killed the archbishop-designate. Is that not true?’

  She stared from one to another with large rounded eyes.

  ‘To a point,’ conceded Fidelma. ‘A religieux was arrested but it has yet to be proved whether he was the guilty party or not.’

  The girl opened her mouth, paused but a moment and then snapped it shut. Fidelma was not blind to the involuntary motion.

  ‘You were going to say something?’ she encouraged.

  ‘It was just that the morning before the murder I saw an Irish brother in the gardens outside the domus hospitale. He was a fat, moon-faced man with his hair cut in that funny tonsure the Irish wear.’

  Eadulf leaned forward in interest.

  ‘You saw this brother?’

  ‘Oh yes. He asked me some questions about Wighard’s entourage. Who was accompanying Wighard during his visit, but then Abbess Wulfrun came along and I had to go with her. I heard that this monk that the custodes are searching for is a large, round-faced Irish religieux.’

  There was a silence and Fidelma sat back thoughtfully.

  ‘How long have you been at the abbey of Sheppey?’ she asked somewhat abruptly.

  The girl looked puzzled at this sudden change of subject. ‘Five years, perhaps a little more, sister.’

  ‘How long have you known Abbess Wulfrun?’

  ‘A little longer …’

  ‘So you knew Abbess Wulfrun before you went to Sheppey?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted the girl.

  ‘Where was this? In another religious house?’

  ‘No. Wulfrun befriended me when I was in need.’

  ‘In need?’

  The girl did not rise to the bait but simply nodded.

  ‘Where was this?’ pressed Fidelma again.

  ‘In the kingdom of Swithhelm.’

  ‘So?’ Eadulf said quickly, ‘you are from the kingdom of the East Saxons?’

  The girl shook her head.

  ‘I was originally of Kent. I was taken to Swithhelm’s kingdom as a child and brought back to Kent when I went with Abbess Wulfrun, who invited me to join her community on Sheppey.’

  ‘So you have felt under obligation to Abbess Wulfrun ever since?’ concluded Eadulf.

  Eafa shrugged as if to imply that he could make his own deductions. Fidelma felt compassion for this girl.

  ‘I am sorry, Eafa, for all these questions but we are nearly through. One thing more. You know that you are a free person under the law of the church?’

  Eafa frowned slightly.

  ‘Obedience is surely the rule?’ she queried defiantly. ‘I am merely an anchoress and mus
t obey my mother superior in all things.’

  Fidelma had not wanted to be more precise for fear of upsetting the girl.

  ‘So long as you are aware that you do not have to be insulted by any man, no matter what his rank.’

  Eafa flushed, her gaze coming up abruptly to meet Fidelma’s face, realising the implication of her words.

  ‘I can take care of myself, Sister Fidelma. I grew up on a farm and had a hard schooling before I reached the age of consent.’

  Fidelma smiled sadly.

  ‘I thought that you should be aware of this.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Eafa drew her chin up defiantly, ‘I do not know what these questions have to do with the murder of Wighard.’

  The girl obviously did not want to talk about Puttoc and his advances. Fidelma hoped that the girl would understand that there was help available if ever she needed it.

  ‘You have indulged us enough, Eafa. That will be all … for the time being.’

  The girl gave another jerky motion of her head and stood up to leave. As Furius Licinius opened the door for her, the gaunt, sallow figure of the Bishop Gelasius stood framed there. Sister Eafa sank to one knee in a low Saxon bow, while Eadulf and Fidelma rose to greet the nomenclator of the papal household.

  Gelasius entered the room, smiling absently at Sister Eafa who rose and scurried away. Furius Licinius snapped to attention as, behind Gelasius, the military governor of the custodes, Superista Marinus, followed the bishop into the room.

  ‘I thought I would come to see if you had arrived at any conclusions,’ Gelasius informed them, glancing from Fidelma to Eadulf.

  ‘If you mean, have we resolved the affair,’ Fidelma replied, ‘then the answer is a negative one.’

  The bishop looked disappointed. He crossed to the chair and slumped down in it.

  ‘I must tell you that the Holy Father is desirous of a conclusion as soon as possible.’

  ‘No more than I,’ Fidelma said.

  Gelasius frowned and stared hard as if wondering whether she was being impertinent. Then he remembered just how outspoken these Irish women could be. He responded with a sigh.

  ‘How far are you into your investigation?’

  ‘It is hard to say,’ Fidelma shrugged.

  ‘Are you saying that you doubt the guilt of Brother Ronan?’ demanded Marinus, with a look of astonishment. ‘But my custodes were eyewitnesses, they arrested him and he has compounded his guilt by escaping from our cells.’

  Gelasius glanced at the military governor and then back to Fidelma.

  ‘Is it true? Do you doubt the guilt of Ronan Ragallach?’

  ‘It is a foolish judge who, before the evidence is presented, makes a judgment.’

  ‘What more evidence is needed?’ demanded Marinus.

  ‘The evidence so far presented does not amount to much. When analysed it is so circumstantial that under the law of the Fenechus, any self-respecting Brehon, that is – a judge, would not even consider it.’

  Gelasius turned to Brother Eadulf.

  ‘Do you concur in this?’

  Eadulf gave a hasty and somewhat guilty glance to Fidelma.

  ‘I think that Brother Ronan Ragallach has a case to answer in spite of the circumstantial evidence. I do not believe it is a weak case. We have another witness to Ronan Ragallach taking an interest in Wighard and his entourage as well as your custodes.’

  Fidelma held back a sigh of annoyance. She had wanted to keep the information which Eafa had supplied to herself for a while.

  Gelasius looked depressed. He did not pursue Eadulf’s remark about another witness.

  ‘What you are telling me is the thing I fear most of all. You are divided in your opinions. There is an Irishman who has killed a Saxon bishop of Rome. The Saxon judge says there is a case, the Irish judge says there is not. The spectre of war between the Saxon kingdoms and Ireland still looms on the horizon.’

  Fidelma shook her head vehemently.

  ‘This is not so, Gelasius. What we are both in accord with is that our investigation is far from complete. There are many things to be considered. Because we have reached no conclusion today, does not mean that we will not reach a conclusion tomorrow.’

  ‘But surely you have questioned everyone with the exception of the culprit himself …’

  Eadulf coughed hollowly.

  ‘I think, at this point, we would prefer to refer to Brother Ronan Ragallach as merely a suspect rather than …’

  Marinus gave an angry hiss of breath.

  ‘Semantics. We have no time to play with the niceties of words. I know what you are saying. You have questioned everyone and must surely have some conclusions.’

  Fidelma’s features had tightened. She disliked attempts to browbeat her into statements she did not want to make.

  Gelasius, seeing the tautness of her expression, raised a pacifying hand.

  ‘Are you telling us that you simply require more time? Is that it, sister?’

  ‘Precisely,’ Fidelma said firmly.

  ‘Then you shall have it,’ agreed Gelasius. ‘Above all, we want to resolve this case in the proper way – a way in which the guilt will be apportioned in the right quarter.’

  ‘That is good,’ Fidelma accepted, ‘for I would not have it any other way. It is the truth that we are after above all things and not merely a scapegoat.’

  Gelasius rose with dignity.

  ‘Remember,’ he said slowly, ‘the Holy Father is much interested in this matter. He is already under some pressure on what to report about the death of the Canterbury archbishop-designate by the envoy of Saxon kings.’

  Fidelma raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Are you speaking of Puttoc?’

  ‘The Abbot Puttoc,’ corrected Gelasius softly. Then added:

  ‘Inasmuch as the abbot is the direct envoy of Oswy of Northumbria, who appears to be the overlord of all the Saxon kingdoms, then your answer is to be found in the affirmative.’

  ‘And doubtless Abbot Puttoc has his reasons for pressing for a decision?’ smiled Fidelma cynically. ‘Perhaps he has even suggested his candidacy to fill the role of archbishop?’

  Gelasius stared at her a moment and then his face broke into a tired smile.

  ‘Of course, you have undoubtedly spoken to the abbot. I believe he has made a suggestion that he is best fitted to become archbishop. However, his Holiness has other ideas. In truth, Abbot Puttoc has an aura of ambition which does not endear him. He it was, who even raised an objection to Wighard two days ago on the grounds that Wighard had once been married and sired children.’

  Eadulf exchanged a glance of surprise with Fidelma.

  ‘Puttoc would have had Wighard debarred from ordination on the grounds that he was once married with children?’ he asked astounded.

  ‘Not in so many words but by gentle hints. No member of the church from abbot and above may be married as you know. Indeed, Rome frowns on those below that rank from forming such carnal relations although it is not forbidden. Anyway, rest assured that the matter was discussed and dismissed when it was revealed that Wighard’s family had been killed long ago. However, the fact that the subject was raised did put a question mark over Puttoc’s own suitability to aspire to the office.’

  ‘Then there is another candidate?’ prompted Fidelma.

  ‘His Holiness is considering the matter.’

  Eadulf was surprised.

  ‘I thought there were few Saxons here qualified to aspire to the office of Canterbury?’

  ‘Indeed there are,’ agreed Gelasius. ‘His Holiness is inclined to believe that the time is not propitious for Rome’s primacy in the Saxon kingdoms to be in the hands of a Saxon.’

  ‘That will be the cause of some protest from the Saxons,’ Eadulf blurted in astonishment.

  Gelasius turned to him with a frown.

  ‘Obedience is the first rule of the Faith.’ His voice was threatening. ‘The Saxon kingdoms must obey the decision of Rome. I can say no more at this stage but be
tween these walls, you may be assured that Abbot Puttoc is not going to be considered. However, this must remain a secret for the time being.’

  ‘Of course,’ Eadulf agreed diplomatically. ‘I was merely thinking aloud.’ Then he paused and added: ‘Does Abbot Puttoc know of this decision, I wonder?’

  ‘I have said that this matter should remain private. Puttoc will know when the time comes.’

  Fidelma shot Eadulf a warning glance as he opened his mouth to amplify his question. The Saxon snapped his mouth shut abruptly.

  ‘The main thing at the moment is to resolve the matter of Wighard’s death,’ went on Gelasius. ‘And we are counting on you … both.’

  He emphasised the last word and then, without a further word, he turned and left the room, followed by a surly Marinus.

  ‘Why did you wish me to be silent about Puttoc?’ asked Eadulf, when they had left. ‘I merely wanted to know whether he still thought he was a candidate for the archbishop’s chair?’

  ‘We must keep our counsel to ourselves. If Puttoc is so ambitious …’

  ‘And people have killed for less ambition,’ interposed Eadulf, finishing her thought.

  ‘If so, then we must allow him some rope so that he may hang himself. We must not warn him of our suspicions.’

  Eadulf shrugged. ‘Mind you, I have no suspicions of anyone other than Ronan Ragallach, not after the confirmation given by Eafa. We have evidence that Ronan was skulking around the domus hospitale on the night before the murder, then he was asking questions about Wighard and his entourage on the very morning of the murder and, finally, he was arrested fleeing from the domus hospitale just after Wighard was murdered. Is that not proof enough?’

  ‘No,’ Fidelma said firmly. ‘I want something more than a few pieces of circumstantial evidence …’

  Her sentence ended in a sudden yawn of fatigue which she was not able to stifle. The length of the day, with its crowded events, was suddenly catching up with her. She eyed the uneaten snack which Furius Licinius had brought. In spite of the brief siesta of the afternoon, she was exhausted now; too exhausted even to contemplate it.

  ‘A sleep is my next priority, Eadulf.’ Fidelma smothered another yawn. ‘We shall meet here tomorrow in the forenoon and assess the evidence that we have gathered.’