Penance of the Damned (Sister Fidelma)
Page 1
Copyright © 2016 Peter Tremayne
The right of Peter Tremayne to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in this Ebook edition in 2016 by
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
Cover photograph © Design Pics Inc/Alamy
eISBN 978 1 4722 0839 2
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Praise for the Sister Fidelma series
Also by Peter Tremayne
About the Book
Dedication
Epigraph
Principal Characters
Map
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
L’Envoi
About the Author
Peter Tremayne is the fiction pseudonym of Peter Berresford Ellis, a well-known authority on the ancient Celts, who has utilised his knowledge of the Brehon law system and seventh-century Irish society to create a new concept in detective fiction.
An international Sister Fidelma Society has been established, with a journal entitled The Brehon appearing three times yearly. Details can be obtained either by writing to the Society at PMB #312, 1818 North Taylor Street, Suite B, Little Rock, AR 72207, USA, or by logging onto the society website at www.sisterfidelma.com.
Praise for the Sister Fidelma series:
‘The Sister Fidelma books give the readers a rattling good yarn. But more than that, they bring vividly and viscerally to life the fascinating lost world of the Celtic Irish. I put down The Spider’s Web with a sense of satisfaction at a good story well told, but also speculating on what modern life might have been like had that civilisation survived’ Ronan Bennett
‘Rich helpings of evil and tension with lively and varied characters’ Historical Novels Review
‘The detail of the books is fascinating, giving us a vivid picture of everyday life at this time … the most detailed and vivid recreations of ancient Ireland’ Irish Examiner
‘A brilliant and beguiling heroine. Immensely appealing’
Publishers Weekly
‘Tremayne’s super-sleuth is a vibrant creation, a woman of wit and courage who would stand out in any era, but brings a special sparkle to the wild beauty of medieval Ireland’ Morgan Llywelyn
By Peter Tremayne and featuring Sister Fidelma:
Absolution by Murder
Shroud for the Archbishop
Suffer Little Children
The Subtle Serpent
The Spider’s Web
Valley of the Shadow
The Monk who Vanished
Act of Mercy
Hemlock at Vespers
Our Lady of Darkness
Smoke in the Wind
The Haunted Abbot
Badger’s Moon
Whispers of the Dead
The Leper’s Bell
Master of Souls
A Prayer for the Damned
Dancing with Demons
The Council of the Cursed
The Dove of Death
The Chalice of Blood
Behold a Pale Horse
The Seventh Trumpet
Atonement of Blood
The Devil’s Seal
The Second Death
Penance of the Damned
About the Book
Sister Fidelma returns in this brand-new 7th-century Irish mystery by Peter Tremayne, acclaimed author of THE DEVIL’S SEAL and THE SECOND DEATH.
Ireland, AD 671. King Colgú of Cashel is shocked to learn that his loyal Chief Bishop and advisor has been murdered in the old enemy fortress of the Uí Fidgente. When word reaches Cashel that the culprit will be executed under new law, a larger conflict threatens.
Dispatched to investigate, Sister Fidelma and her companion Eadulf discover that the man facing punishment is Gormán – commander of the King’s bodyguard. But Fidelma cannot believe Gormán would carry out such an act – and yet he was found locked in a chamber with the body, weapon in hand. The evidence is stacked against him.
If they are to save Gormán and keep the peace between the kingdoms, Fidelma and Eadulf must find the true culprit. As the threat of war looms, the date of execution drawers ever closer …
For Jonathan and Helen Peppiatt
and, naturally, George and Connie
Si enim nocui aut dignum morte aliquid feci non recuso mori si vero nihil est eorum quae hii accusant me nemo potest me illis donare …
For if I be an offender, or have committed any thing worthy of death, I refuse not to die; but if there be none of these things whereof these accuse me, no man may deliver me unto them …
Acts 25:11
Vulgate Latin translation of Jerome 4th Century
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
Sister Fidelma of Cashel, a dálaigh or advocate of the law courts of Seventh-century Ireland
Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham in the Land of the South Folk, her companion
At Cashel
Colgú, King of Muman and brother to Fidelma
Enda, a warrior of the Nasc Niadh, bodyguard to Colgú
On the road to Uí Fidgente territory
Ciarnat, an attendant in Dún Eochair Mháigh
Conrí, warlord of the Uí Fidgente
Socht, his second-in-command
At Dún Eochair Mháigh
Donennach, Prince of the Uí Fidgente
Brehon Faolchair, his chief judge
Airmid, sister to Donennach and physician to the court
Ceit, cenn-feadhna or commander of Donennach’s household guard
Lachtna, a guard
Gormán, commander of the bodyguard of the King of Muman
Aibell, wife to Gormán
Étromma, mother of Ciarnat
The religious at the fortress and in the community of Nechta
Abbot Nannid, Abbot of Mungairit
Brother Cuineáin, rechtaire or steward to the Abbot of Mungairit
Prior Cuán, the airsecnap or Deputy Abbot of Imleach
Brother Tuamán, rechtaire or steward to the Abbot of Imleach
Brother Mac Raith, a scribe of Imleach
Brother Máel Anfaid, a scribe of Imleach
Brother Éladach, aistreóir, the doorkeep
er of the ‘Abbey’ of Nechta
Marban, a millwright and uncle to Aibell
Deogaire of Sliabh Luachra, chief of the Luachair Deaghaidh
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This adventure is set during the month which was called, in Old Irish, Meithem, the ‘middle month’, being regarded as midsummer; today, it is known as June. The year is AD671.
The story follows on from The Second Death in chronological sequence. While, like previous Fidelma tales, it is self-contained, some readers may remember the brooding country of the Uí Fidgente in Atonement of Blood, together with many of the characters. Some of these characters also featured in The Devil’s Seal.
Dún Eochair Mháigh, ‘the Fortress on the Brink of An Mháigh’ – anglicised today as the River Maigue – was the main fortress of Prince Donennach of the Uí Fidgente. Today the site is called Bruree, from Bru Rí – the King’s House – in south-east County Limerick. It was so called because it was said to be the one-time capital of the Kings of Muman – Munster. The Uí Fidgente claimed to be descended from Cormac Cas, the brother of Eóghan Mór, the founder of the Eóghanacht dynasty. They also claimed that Cormac Cas was senior to Eóghan, and therefore styled themselves the Dál gCais – Descendants of Cas – with legitimate claim to be rulers of all Muman.
Throughout history there was little love lost between the Uí Fidgente and the Eóghanacht, but it was not until AD963 that Mathgamain mac Cennétig (d. AD976) of the Dál gCais was recorded as ousting the Eóghanacht Donnchad mac Cellacháin as King of Muman. Within a generation, a third Dál gCais King of Muman, Brían Bóruma mac Cennétig (d. AD1014), furthered his family ambition by displacing the Uí Néill dynasty to become the High King of Ireland. In AD1005 Brían, who is popularly called Brian Boru, recognised Armagh as the primacy of the Irish churches instead of Imleach (Emly), and is famous for his defeat of the Vikings at Clontarf, being killed by a retreating Viking at the moment of his victory.
Less than 100 kilometres from Dún Eochair Mháigh is Sliabh Luachra, the Mountain of Rushes. In reality it is a range of hills with peaks rising to a height of 500 metres in which seven glens are enclosed. It is a wet area; a rush-filled marshland with dangerous bogs, surrounded by impenetrable woodland and hardly any good arable land to sustain its sparse population. In ancient times it rose as an impregnable natural fortress, which attracted those escaping justice and was ruled by ruthless robber chieftains. In Fidelma’s day it was a place to avoid. The most ruthless among these robber chieftains claimed to be ‘Kings of Luachra’, and would ride forth with their war bands to rob and demand tribute from those who dwelled in the surrounding countryside. It is still a place of much beauty but with a history of sorrow – and always the threat of danger.
Readers might also be interested in the fact that, although the ‘Penitentials’ are popularly ascribed to the Irish Church Fathers, they originated as rules created by the ‘Desert Fathers’, the ascetics of the eastern churches. One such rule-maker was John the Ascetic in the sixth century. He was originally from Edessa in Mesopotamia. Many Irish churchmen, such as Finnian, Cummian and Colmcille, certainly adopted these often brutal punishments. It was not until a Council in Paris, in AD829, held under Jonas, Bishop of Orléans (c. AD760–843), that the Penitentials were ordered to be discarded and the books containing them to be burned. Bishop Jonas was also known for his work supporting the argument that the Frankish Emperor had authority over the bishops of the Frankish Church in matters of legal authority – a judgement some clerics had tried to reverse in early Ireland.
CHAPTER ONE
The waters were dark and tranquil, and curiously warm. The slight flow against his body was soporific. The young warrior floated lazily along in the caressing touch of the waters; surrendering his body to their will.
Gentle hands touched his outstretched fingers, and he saw the shadowy form of his mother, gliding along beside him. She was smiling at him, and he felt comforted. On the other side was the lithe, attractive figure of the girl for whom he had left Cashel so that he could come in search of her. Come in search? He puzzled over the phrase. Come – to where? Where was he? No matter. The soft current was pulling him on. He had no wish to ask any more questions.
And … something stirred within some deep recess of his mind. It was disturbing. It told him he should be doing something – something urgent – and not relaxing here. But where was he – and what was it that he should be doing? There was some errand he had to perform – some warning to be given … But what warning?
He turned to the smiling face of the girl, swimming alongside. Her expression was alluring, enticing him to come closer and closer and … suddenly her face dissolved and changed into the decomposing, bloodstained features of someone he had known, long ago. Dimly, he recalled that she had been murdered, and he had stood accused. Only Fidelma of Cashel had believed in his innocence. He was not guilty of her murder.
That was it! Murder! He needed to warn Cashel – warn Fidelma of Cashel. But warn them of what?
Even as he brought the thought into semi-consciousness, he became aware of distant sounds, of harsh male voices assailing his ears. He tried to shut them out and yet they grew ever louder, more intense, and close at hand. He also felt a sharp pricking at the base of his neck. Suddenly, his temples began to throb. He groaned, feeling his mouth dry and uncomfortable.
Next, he became aware that his face was pressed against the hard wooden boards of a floor. One arm was outstretched before him. The shouting had not subsided but the jumble of coarse sounds was separating into the form of words.
‘Murderer! Foul murderer! You have killed him!’
Gormán blinked again and emerged fully from the comforting safety of the drifting waters of his mind. A man in religious robes stood above him shouting down at him. Beyond this man there lay a bundle of clothes – no, it was a body; a body covered in blood.
Gormán tried to raise himself up a little. It was then that his fingers touched the sticky hilt of the dagger, lying close at hand. As he moved, the pain at the base of his neck increased. It was like having someone standing behind him, pressing on his neck with a sword point.
Gormán groaned again and tried to gather his reason. Where was he? He could recall nothing as the man in the religious robes standing over him was continuing to shout.
‘Murderer!’
Gormán licked his dry lips with a tongue just as dry.
‘Where am I?’ he managed to mumble.
‘Where are you?’ The voice of the religieux was angry and uncompromising. ‘You, warrior, are on your way to Hell!’
Colgú, King of Muman, halted abruptly in mid-stride. He had been pacing up and down in his private chamber, his forehead creased with agitation, his face set in a scowl at odds with his usual pleasant expression. The knocking on the door caused him to pause and square his shoulders. The knocking continued, but before he could respond, the door opened.
His sister, Fidelma of Cashel, entered and closed the door behind her.
‘You sent for me?’ she asked, her green-blue eyes registering her brother’s anxiety in spite of his efforts to disguise it. ‘I see that you have received bad news from Dún Eochair Mháigh.’
Colgú was startled. He brushed away a lock of fiery-red hair – the same colour as his sibling’s own locks, and said angrily, ‘Has the messenger been speaking to you? I forbade him to say a word about it to anyone. I’ll have him punished—’
‘Hush, brother,’ Fidelma returned calmly. ‘He told me nothing, but I observed much. I know that a messenger, under the banner of the Prince of the Uí Fídgente, arrived here and demanded to speak to you immediately. After you had seen him, you then sent for me. Now I find you scowling as if there is a weight of trouble on your mind. What other interpretation should I place on these events except that this messenger brought you bad news, which came from the Prince of the Uí Fidgente who is, according to reports, currently at his fortress of Dún Eochair Mháigh.’
Colgú hesita
ted a moment and then sank into a nearby chair. It always sounded so simple when his sister explained things. He waved her to a seat opposite.
‘It is very bad news indeed,’ he admitted gloomily. He turned to a small side table, pouring himself a generous drink from a clay jug, and Fidelma noted with disapproval that it was corma, a distilled spirit. It was unusual for her brother to drink intoxicating liquor before the sun had reached its zenith. Colgú motioned towards the jug in silent question, and she shook her head.
‘Bad news is better quickly revealed,’ she prompted as he took another swallow of the strong liquid.
His troubled blue eyes met his sister’s inquisitive gaze, and he sighed, ‘Ségdae has been murdered.’
Fidelma stared at him blankly, as if she heard his words but did not comprehend their meaning.
Ségdae was Abbot of Imleach – comarb, or successor, of the Blessed Ailbe – Chief Bishop of All Muman and chief ecclesiastical adviser to the King, her brother. Fidelma and Colgú seemed to have known him all their lives. He had been appointed to the position of Abbot on the death of the previous Abbot, Conaing, exactly ten years before. He had advised Cathal, their cousin, when he was King, and now he advised Colgú. Abbot Ségdae had become a pillar of the stability of the kingdom as well as the church.
Her mind flooded with questions, dispelling any immediate thoughts of grief.
‘Murdered, you say? Who did this – where and when? And why does a messenger from the Uí Fidgente come with this news?’
‘Ségdae had been on a journey to discuss Church matters with some Uí Fidgente clergy. Since Prince Donennach and I agreed a peace in an attempt to end the disastrous conflicts between us, the abbot felt he should take the opportunity to construct some relationship with these clerics at a council at the fortress of Donennach.’
The Uí Fidgente had been long-time rivals of the Eóghanacht of Cashel, claiming their family had equal right to the kingship of Muman. Assassination plots and open warfare had marked their relationship, especially during recent years. Only six months or so previously, Fidelma had been instrumental in averting another Uí Fidgente plot and brokering peace between King Colgú and the Prince of the Uí Fidgente.