Fidelma and Eadulf halted at the entrance to the square, sheltering in the corner of a building.
Sister Radegund had hurried across the cobbles straight to the gates in a high wall that fronted a building on the far side. A giant of a man, a warrior armed with sword and spear, stood outside. While he had breast armour, he wore no hat and his head was a tousled mess of blond, almost white, curls that merged into a heavy beard which came to his chest. He nodded pleasantly to Sister Radegund as if he knew her and without a word turned and tapped upon the wooden gate with his free hand. They heard three distinct blows followed by two more rapid ones. The gate opened almost at once and Sister Radegund slipped inside. The gate closed immediately.
There was a rattle of wheels behind them and a man came along the thoroughfare pushing a handcart loaded with various iron goods. He was a heavily built fellow, and by his dress he was a tradesman of sorts. As they stood hesitantly on the corner, unsure of what to do next, he greeted them in a friendly fashion.
‘Are you lost?’ He spoke in the local language that, to Eadulf’s ear, sounded strangely akin to his own Saxon speech, for he seemed to understand the sense of it. He tried a response in Saxon and, to his surprise, the man replied.
‘I spent time among your people. My father was a ship’s captain. Now–are you lost?’
‘We are unsure of where we are,’ Eadulf told him. ‘What is this square?’
‘This is called the Square of Benignus.’
‘Benignus?’ queried Eadulf, thinking he had misheard. ‘You mean “the Square of the Benign”?’
The man set down his cart and flexed his hands as if to help the circulation.
‘No, my friend. Of Benignus,’ he said. ‘You are obviously strangers here. Benignus was a holy martyr who was born in this city before going to spread the word of the Faith in the old city of Divio many centuries ago. The square was named after him for it is said it was on this very square that he lived.’
‘Ask him who that big house belongs to–the one guarded by the warrior,’ Fidelma said to Eadulf.
‘Whose fine villa is that then?’ Eadulf asked the carter. ‘And why is it guarded by a warrior?’
‘That is the villa of the Lady Beretrude, mother of the lord of this territory. She is benefactor to the city and the most powerful person in these parts.’
‘Eadulf!’ interrupted Fidelma with a soft warning. She had just noticed a man exit from the very house they were talking about. He was clad in religious robes and raised a hand in familiar farewell to the warrior. Then he was striding across the square towards them.
It was too late to move. He had seen them.
‘Sister Fidelma! Brother Eadulf!’ he hailed. ‘What are you doing here?’ Brother Budnouen halted before them, smiling broadly.
‘We were lost and this man was giving us directions,’ Eadulf explained hastily.
‘You must be lost, indeed, to be in this area of the city,’ replied the jovial Gaul.
The man with the cart had touched his forehead in salute.
‘I am glad that you have found your friend,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You will be able to get to where you wanted now.’ He heaved his cart up and moved on his way.
‘And where was it you wanted to get to?’ asked Brother Budnouen.
‘Back to the abbey,’ Fidelma said hastily. ‘We had gone for a walk to explore the city and must have taken a wrong turning somewhere.’
‘I forget that you are unused to large towns in your lands. Well, have no concerns for I am going back to the abbey myself.’
‘We don’t want to take you out of your way at all,’ Eadulf said. ‘We looked for you in the abbey but have not seen you there.’
Brother Budnouen shook his head. ‘You will not. For I do not stay with Bishop Leodegar’s community. I stay with a friend in the city, just off the square before the abbey.’
‘Speaking of squares, that is a curious one,’ Eadulf said slyly, turning back to the square behind them. ‘That man with the cart thought we were looking for the villa of some lady or other. What was her name? Bertrude…no–Beretrude.’ He pointed at the villa from which Brother Budnouen had just emerged and hoped the Gaul had not realised that they had noticed him coming from there. ‘He told us that she lived there. Why would he assume we were looking for her?’ He looked innocently at the Gaul.
Brother Budnouen seemed thoughtful.
‘I suppose it is a logical mistake, since Lady Beretrude is the most prominent person here in the city,’ he said. ‘She is mother of the lord of this territory–Lord Guntram–and is a very influential lady. Perhaps the man thought strangers wandering in this part of the city would naturally be seeking her out.’
He volunteered no further information and Eadulf realised that for some reason he was not going to admit any connection with either the woman or the villa.
‘The man was telling us that the square has a connection with a holy martyr.’
Brother Budnouen raised an eyebrow. ‘He was a loquacious fellow, that fellow with the cart,’ he observed softly. Eadulf wondered if there was a hint of suspicion in his voice.
Fidelma said hurriedly: ‘He was quite helpful, although we had to rely on interpretation through Eadulf’s own tongue. The man seemed quite proud of this local martyr.’ She mentally forgave herself the lie.
‘It is certainly a matter of great local controversy,’ said Brother Budnouen. ‘You refer to Benignus, of course.’
‘Controversy?’
‘Some say that Polycarp of Smyrna sent this saintly man called Benignus to Divio…’
‘Divio?’ Fidelma frowned. ‘This place has been mentioned before.’
‘It’s about seventy kilometres to the north east of here. The city is in the old territory of the Lingones, once a great people of Gaul. Benignus was sent to teach them the Faith. Now the Burgunds claim Benignus as one of their own. The story is that he was martyred and the common people worshipped at his grave. Then Bishop Gregory of Lingonum, who disliked Benignus, tried to stop this worship. But Autun and two other towns have equal claim on this blessed martyr, with each insisting that they hold his true grave and his relics. An argument began over who had the prior claim. One hundred years ago, accounts called De Gloria Martyrum started to be circulated in which all these claims were put forward and argued. Each town called the other’s claims falsifications and lies. In this city, he is supposed to be buried in the necropolis under the abbey, but in Lingonum an entire basilica building has been erected over a tomb that is claimed as Benignus’ last resting-place.’ Brother Budnouen chuckled suddenly. ‘The place was actually built by the same Bishop Gregory who had first claimed that the tomb was that of a heathen and not the martyr. They say he changed his mind when he saw how much money was to be made from the pilgrims who flocked to pray there.’
Fidelma sniffed in disapproval. ‘So the argument continues between these towns?’
‘And probably will as long as no one can offer proof. However, it is a subject that is best avoided among most of the Burgunds, and especially in the Lady Beretrude’s presence.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Lady Beretrude claims that Benignus was among her ancestors some four centuries ago. Most of the Burgunds seem to have adopted him as a patron of their people, their saviour who will one day free them from the rule of the Franks.’
‘This square we just left was named after him, we were told.’
‘The Square of Benignus?’ Brother Budnouen shook his head. ‘It was Lady Beretrude who had it named such, and in recent memory. I suppose its claim to the name is as good as any other.’
‘Why is there no memorial to Benignus in the abbey?’ asked Fidelma. ‘I have not seen one.’
‘Franks now run the abbey,’ said Eadulf. ‘Even if his last resting place were there, they would ignore such a Burgund worthy.’
‘Bishop Leodegar is a hard taskmaster, my Saxon friend,’ Budnouen agreed. ‘He would not recognise a Burgund as in any way influ
ential. I am glad that I am not of his community.’
‘What community do you belong to? To the abbey in Nebirnum, I suppose,’ asked Fidelma.
‘Not so. I am my own man, for all the communities of Gauls are almost drowned in the sea of Burgunds and Franks. Our people have been swept westward. As you already know from our journey here, I earn my daily crust by running goods from the merchants on the river by Nebirnum to Autun, and sometimes I have been known to go as far as Divio.’
‘Do you know Abbess Audofleda?’
The jovial Gaul looked at her. ‘Have you encountered Abbess Audofleda? Ah yes, you would do so, of course.’ It was clear that, knowing the segregation Rule, he would assume that Fidelma was staying in the house of women. ‘Yes, I have had dealings with her.’
‘There is no enthusiasm in your voice?’
‘Enthusiasm, Sister?’ mused the Gaul. ‘My life has not been made richer by my contact with Audofleda. I admit to a dislike of her. She seems typical of her people, arrogant and overbearing in proclaiming her piety and all without reason.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Eadulf.
Brother Budnouen paused for a moment. Then: ‘Let me put it this way, I knew of Audofleda in a past life.’
‘In that case, you cannot let your story end there before you have begun it.’ Fidelma looked at him in curiosity.
The Gaul looked surreptitiously around him as if to ensure there were no eavesdroppers, before saying, ‘I told you that my journeying took me sometimes as far afield as Divio.’
‘Which is where Abbess Audofleda comes from,’ Fidelma put in, remembering what the abbatissa had said.
‘Except that she was certainly no abbess then,’ agreed Brother Budnouen.
‘Go on.’
‘To be truthful, Audofleda was a woman of the streets. Until a few years ago, she was known in certain parts of Divio as such.’
Fidelma was surprised but not shocked. ‘She is not to be condemned for that, but rather pitied that she had no recourse to a happy life other than sell her body to men.’ She was thinking of her friend Della in Cashel who had once been a prostitute and whom she had helped.
‘True enough, true enough,’ sighed Brother Budnouen. ‘However, I do not think she wallowed in self-pity for her fate but many said she chose the life out of her hatred for men. And when I heard of this sudden conversion to the religious life, not just conversion but her appointment by Leodegar to be the abbatissa of the Domus Femini here, I had pause to think.’
They waited a moment and then Fidelma asked: ‘And what was the outcome of your thoughts?’
Brother Budnouen shrugged. ‘I do not believe in such a rapid conversion, and if I had a daughter who said she wanted to pursue the religious life in Audofleda’s Domus Femini, I would rather kill her with my own hands than allow her to go into that house of suffering.’
‘That is an interesting choice of words, Budnouen,’ said Fidelma. ‘“House of suffering”. Why do you use that term?’
‘There is no happiness there,’ the Gaul said simply. ‘It’s true that I only deliver goods to the main door and am not allowed in, but when I deliver these goods I see the suffering on the faces of the girls who take charge of them…’
‘Such as?’ Fidelma pressed.
‘There was a Sister Inginde and Sister Valretrade…’
‘Valretrade?’ She echoed the name.
‘You know her?’ Her tone had not been lost on the astute Gaul.
‘Of her,’ corrected Fidelma. ‘I am told that she left the community a week ago.’
‘Ah, that is why this time I looked for her in vain. A nice girl. So, I am pleased.’
‘Pleased?’
‘Pleased that she left Audofleda’s community, for it means she now has freedom to search for a place where she can fulfil her life. Doubtless, she has left with Brother Sigeric. I was their go-between whenever I could be so.’
‘In what way?’
‘I knew that Valretrade was deeply in love with Sigeric and messages were hard to send between the two communities. Therefore, whenever I was in Autun I was able to pass messages between them. I am happy to hear that they have gone.’
Fidelma shook her head. ‘Sigeric is here and knew nothing of her going. He finally went to see Audofleda, who told him that the girl had gone and gave him no other information. He asked us to intercede on his behalf to discover more. Audofleda told me not a short time since that Valretrade had left because she disagreed with the Rule.’
‘She would not have left without Sigeric knowing,’ asserted Brother Budnouen. ‘You don’t know the depth of feeling between those young folks.’
‘How long are you staying in Autun?’ asked Fidelma, after a thoughtful pause. ‘Do you have any more trade to do?’
‘Well, within a few days I am taking goods to the fortress of Lord Guntram, and—’
‘I meant, do you have more business with the Domus Femini?’
‘I have already done my trade there. The goods were taken, checked and paid for by Sister Radegund. I cannot go again without arousing suspicion. Sister Radegund runs the place like a fortress. No one is allowed in or out without scrutiny–and certainly no male is allowed in.’
They had passed up the broad thoroughfare from the Square of Benignus and drawn level with the building where Sister Radegund had gone in to see the seamstress. Brother Budnouen pointed to it.
‘That is the shop of the mother of one of the members of the Domus Femini. She makes dresses and sells clothes here. I sometimes trade with her. But even she is not allowed into the Domus Femini to see her daughter.’
‘Do you know the name of her daughter?’ asked Fidelma. ‘It’s not the stewardess of the community, is it?’ She glanced at the place where cloth and animal skins hung outside. Inside, she could see the elderly woman now sewing.
‘Sister Radegund?’ Brother Budnouen’s eyebrows went up in surprise. ‘Good Lord, no. What makes you ask? Oh, because you know Sister Radegund is the only one allowed to have dealings with the outside world for purposes of commerce?’
‘So I had heard,’ Fidelma said as they moved on. ‘Is there no one else who has free access to and from the Domus Femini?’
‘No one,’ the Gaul assured her. Then a thought struck him. ‘But I was forgetting–you must surely have free access to the Domus Femini, Sister? Or can it be that you are staying among the other wives and advisers of the delegates to the council in the city? I heard that some of the delegates who did not know the Rule of Leodegar’s abbey had brought their wives or female advisers with them. They had to find accommodation not far from the abbey.’
Fidelma did not respond for a moment, then admitted, ‘No, Eadulf and I are staying together at the abbey.’
She was amused by the Gaul’s look of utter astonishment.
Chapter Ten
On reaching the abbey, they bade farewell to Brother Budnouen as he hurried off on his business, and made their way through the anticum of the abbey to their chamber in the hospitia. As they reached it, a door further along the corridor opened and a grim-faced Abbot Ségdae emerged.
‘Have you heard the news?’ he greeted them without preamble.
‘About Brother Gillucán, Abbot Dabhóc’s steward?’ enquired Fidelma, guessing the subject of his anxiety. ‘Brother Chilperic told us earlier this morning. Has there been a further development?’
Abbot Ségdae motioned to their chamber. They took the hint and led the way inside.
As Eadulf closed the door behind them, the abbot sank into a chair and heaved a deep breath.
‘Abbot Dabhóc murdered and now his steward. I am coming to agree with some of the delegates that this place is cursed.’
Fidelma sat down on the bed while Eadulf went to a jug and poured some water. His mouth was dry after the morning’s excursion.
‘It is not the place that is cursed, Ségdae; people create their own curses,’ replied Fidelma gravely.
‘Brother Gillucán was sitt
ing calmly at our table last night,’ the abbot reflected sadly. ‘Now he is dead, killed by robbers while leaving the city this morning, his body stripped and dumped in the river after his throat was cut. How can such things happen?’
‘I meant to ask Brother Chilperic how Gillucán was recognised as belonging to the abbey when it was his naked body that was discovered in the river?’ asked Eadulf, sipping his water.
‘Apparently by his tonsure. Some boatmen brought the body to the abbey to be identified.’ The abbot looked troubled. ‘As a senior member of our delegation, I asked Brother Gebicca to examine the body so that I could make a proper report to the bishop of Ard Macha.’ He hesitated. ‘When he did so, there was one thing which he found curious.’
Immediately Fidelma’s head rose a little. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘They cut poor Brother Gillucán’s throat and threw him in the river…but in spite of that, faeces were clinging to parts of his body, under his fingernails and smeared on his flesh. I had to order that his body should be completely washed and ritually cleansed before burial. It was as if the poor boy had crawled through a sewer before his death. It was rather disgusting.’
Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘The river where he was found…do the city’s sewers empty into it?’
‘I suppose so,’ admitted Abbot Ségdae.
‘Were the sewers at the spot where he was found?’
‘Not really. But even with the sewerage in the water, well…that would not account for the smearing on his legs and arms. The current of the river is quite strong as it passes by the city walls and the effluence is carried along rapidly. I would not have thought it would have covered his body in the way it did if he had simply been immersed in it as it flowed down the river. It seemed to me, as I have said, that he had crawled through it or had been flung in it.’
The abbot was clearly distressed at the idea of the mistreatment of the young religieux.
‘It does seem curious,’ Fidelma admitted quietly. ‘And no witnesses have come forward? I mean, no one who saw Brother Gillucán leave the abbey, pass through the city gates or noticed if anyone was following him? I thought guards were at the city gates all the time.’
The Council of the Cursed Page 15