Fidelma turned an enquiring look at him.
‘After we had agreed to part and look round,’ Eadulf told her, ‘I went along the eastern side of the villa. I had some idea of finding a back entrance and having a look inside.’
‘Go on,’ she said, when he paused.
‘I came to an area where stone stairs led downwards into a cellar. At the foot of these stairs was a door–a solid wooden one with no grille in it and no handle or lock, so it seemed. I presumed it could only be opened from the inside.’
‘And so?’
‘I was about to go down the steps to examine it further when I heard the cry of a child.’
Fidelma’s eyes widened a little. ‘A child? This came from behind the door?’
‘No, it came from beyond an iron gate in the wall. I heard a man’s harsh commands so I hid behind some barrels. The gate opened and a child and two women were pushed through by a warrior. The women were clad in the robes of religieuses. They had their hands bound in front of them, even the child. As well as the warrior, who had his weapon drawn, there was someone else…’
Fidelma was irritated by Eadulf’s dramatic pause. ‘And who was this someone else?’ she prompted. ‘An old friend of ours.’ ‘Old friend? Stop speaking in riddles, Eadulf. Just tell me who it was.’ ‘Verbas of Peqini.’
Chapter Fourteen
Fidelma had lapsed into a thoughtful silence at the news of the presence of Verbas of Peqini at Lady Beretrude’s villa. Eadulf sat and waited, not wishing to interrupt her thoughts as she considered the ramifications of his news. But it was not long before she told him, ‘The fact that Verbas is here does not alter the basic mystery around the murder of Dabhóc, although it puts an interesting slant on matters.’
‘He could not have known that we were here, surely?’
‘I agree–it must be a bizarre coincidence although, as I have said before, I have never really believed in coincidences. However, he could not have known we were here before arriving. He must have arranged to trade with Lady Beretrude some time ago.’
‘But to trade in what?’ wondered Eadulf.
‘You say that there were two religieuse and the child and they seemed to be prisoners?’
‘Verbas and a warrior were taking them into an underground room at Beretrude’s villa,’ confirmed Eadulf.
‘Then I fear this has something to do with the disappearance of the religieuse at the Domus Femini.’
‘And the cries that Gillucán heard? Could they have been the cries of children?’
‘Let us not leap too far ahead.’ Fidelma swung off the bed and tried to stand but immediately sank back with a word that was unusual for her to utter.
‘Brother Gebicca said that you should rest,’ Eadulf admonished.
‘I know what he said,’ she replied coldly. ‘The point is that the time is passing swiftly. There is much to be done, especially in view of this information. I want to have a further word with Abbess Audofleda.’
‘I can do that,’ offered Eadulf. ‘I know what it is that I must look for.’
Fidelma was not persuaded.
‘Oh, come,’ protested Eadulf. ‘I know enough about your methods and this matter. True, I am not as well versed in the law of the Brehons but I am an hereditary gerefa of my own people–and are not my people closely related to these Franks or Burgunds–closely enough that I might understand their way of thinking?’
Fidelma was slightly surprised at the vehemence in his tone. The thought occurred that perhaps she was being selfish. Eadulf had his pride as well. She knew that if she had a fault it was the belief that only she could gather the evidence and resolve a mystery. And even as that thought came to her, she remembered the many times that Eadulf had almost single-handedly resolved a case. There was the time in Gleann Geis, when he had had to argue on her behalf in front of Murgal the Brehon when Fidelma herself was charged with murder. It was Eadulf’s arguments that had secured her release. Then, of course, there was the time they had arrived at Aldred’s Abbey where she had fallen ill and was confined to her bed while Eadulf had done all the investigation so that together they had solved the mystery of Abbot Botulf’s murder. She had, indeed, to remind herself that Eadulf was an hereditary gerefa or magistrate of his own people. His mind was just as sharp and penetrating as her own. Indeed, was that not part of the mutual attraction that had brought them together?
She sighed deeply and held out a hand to him.
‘Eadulf, Eadulf,’ she said softly, ‘you have great patience with me. I tend to be a little selfish in these matters.’
Eadulf felt awkward. He was unused to Fidelma apologising.
‘It’s just that I can save time in this matter,’ he said gruffly. ‘It is best that you spend a day recovering and come to the matter fit and well tomorrow.’
‘You are right. Just remember not to say anything to the abbess or to Sister Radegund that might compromise Sister Inginde. Let us keep her information to ourselves–and beware in your dealings with Sister Radegund.’
A frown started to gather on Eadulf’s face. ‘Why her particularly?’
‘You saw Beretrude. Compare her features with Sister Radegund’s. If there is not a likeness there, and a relationship, then I am no judge of such matters. Also, remember that we followed her to Beretrude’s villa in the first place.’
Eadulf realised that Fidelma might be right. He had not thought about it before. There was a strong likeness between the older and the younger woman. He was about to comment when there was a tap on the door; in answer to Eadulf’s response it opened and Brother Chilperic entered.
‘I came to see if there is anything you require, Sister,’ he said, with a nod of acknowledgement to Eadulf. ‘We were all alarmed to hear the news of your accident.’
‘I am told that I need to rest here today so that the swelling on my leg has time to disperse and heal.’
Brother Chilperic expressed his sympathy. ‘Bishop Leodegar asks whether he can have a word with you if you are able.’
‘Indeed, if he has time to spare now, I would appreciate it,’ she replied with resignation.
When he had gone, Fidelma said: ‘You had better wait to hear what Bishop Leodegar has to say before going to see Abbess Audofleda.’
‘Are you sure that you should be left alone today?’
‘I will ask Ségdae if he or one of his brethren can spare some time to sit with me,’ she replied.
Eadulf was approving. Fidelma was never one to be nervous. However, he was anxious that she should have some protection in his absence after the incident in Beretrude’s garden. While it could have been an accident, it was better to be cautious.
Bishop Leodegar entered with a worried frown.
‘Ah, it is good to see you looking better, Fidelma.’ He sounded thankful. ‘Lady Beretrude was most concerned. Her servants searched the grounds and apparently found the viper and killed it.’
‘I hope that you will assure Lady Beretrude that I am recovered. The physician says I should rest for today.’
‘So Brother Chilperic tells me. He will ensure your meals are brought here. I merely wanted to express my pleasure that the snake has done no permanent harm to you.’
‘I am told such venom can even kill?’
Bishop Leodegar nodded absently. ‘It has been known to.’
‘Then I was very lucky. I hope Lady Beretrude will ensure that there are no other poisonous reptiles in her villa.’
The bishop missed the double meaning. ‘It was lucky that Brother Eadulf was with you and rushed you straight to Brother Gebicca’s apothecary.’
‘I trust the reception was not entirely ruined?’ asked Fidelma.
Bishop Leodegar looked uncomfortable. ‘After the delegates from Hibernia accompanied Eadulf back to the abbey, the reception broke up.’
He was about to leave when Fidelma said: ‘I am told that Autun is a trading centre in this country.’
‘It has been a centre of trade since the Romans built it.
’
‘And what does it trade in?’
‘It produces wine, of course, and olives. We trade with livestock and cheese.’
‘And slaves?’
Bishop Leodegar seemed to pause before he added: ‘And slaves.’
‘Are the traders all local, or do you attract foreign traders here?’
‘The rivers are good highways. But, of course, we are a long way from the sea in most directions. Trade tends to be mainly local otherwise our goods would perish on the long journey. But sometimes foreign merchants call here.’
‘Have you heard of Peqini?’
The bishop considered for a moment and shook his head. ‘It sounds a strange name.’
‘I understand it is a land in the east.’
‘Then I have not heard of it.’
‘There are no eastern traders passing through this city?’
‘I cannot see why eastern traders would be interested in this place. They have their own wines and olives. I have heard their riches surpass ours. The foreign merchants who pass through our city are not usually from places of far distance.’
‘Does Lady Beretrude trade much?’
The bishop looked horrified at the suggestion. ‘Lady Beretrude is a noble. Merchants and farmers pay her tribute. What a curious question you ask.’
‘I am merely interested in how things are governed, that is all. So she would not be interested in trading with eastern merchants?’
‘If eastern merchants were interested in trade in Burgundia then they would go to Divio or to Nebirnum, both of which stand on great river-ways where traffic is easier. They would also have a wider choice of goods. If they did come here, then they would usually be found in the market by the northern gates. Why are you so interested?’
‘Just curiosity,’ sighed Fidelma. ‘Thank you. You have satisfied it. Now I feel rather tired and will rest.’
Bishop Leodegar excused himself and left.
‘You were angling to see if he knew about Verbas of Peqini?’ Eadulf regarded her with a serious expression.
‘Either he does not, or he is a good liar. I wonder if he is as much a friend of Lady Beretrude as he maintains?’ She sighed deeply. ‘You had better be off on your quest. On your way, can you ask Abbot Ségdae to attend me?’
Eadulf was walking up the wagonway towards the courtyard that gave entrance to the Domus Femini, mentally rehearsing how to face the formidable Abbess Audofleda, when he noticed with surprise that the door was opening. A tall man emerged, followed by a young-looking woman. They were both clad in the robes of the religious. The man saw him and said something to his companion, who immediately withdrew inside and closed the door.
The man did not seem to be perturbed and walked on towards him with an easy stride. As he drew nearer, Eadulf saw that the religieux was young and quite handsome. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes, a swarthy skin and a firm chin. His teeth shone brightly each time he smiled. There was something, however, that Eadulf distrusted about his smile and his manner.
‘Good day to you, Brother Eadulf,’ he stated as they drew together. ‘It is Brother Eadulf, is it not?’
Eadulf halted with a frown. ‘That is my name. I do not know you.’
‘Forgive me. I do not wish to appear to have the gift of second sight. I have seen you in the refectory and at prayers, of course. Bishop Leodegar announced your name to us in the chapel–your name and that of the Sister from Hibernia, Philomena…?’
‘Fidelma.’ Eadulf was annoyed that the man thought he could not possibly work out how he knew his name and would ascribe it to some supernatural effect. ‘Her name is Sister Fidelma.’
‘Ah yes, such a curious Hibernian name. But you are a Saxon, are you not?’
‘I am from the kingdom of the East Angles,’ corrected Eadulf in a heavy tone. ‘And you are?’
‘Forgive me again. I do not mean to create mysteries. I am Brother Andica. There is no mystery about me. I am from Divio and I am a Burgund.’
‘I thought the male community of the abbey were not allowed to visit the Domus Femini,’ Eadulf remarked, indicating the building with a movement of his head.
‘And neither are they–generally speaking,’ Brother Andica said condescendingly. ‘But here you are, presumably on your way to the Domus Femini.’
Eadulf reddened as the man turned his implied question into one directed at himself.
‘As you have already remarked, Brother Andica, Bishop Leodegar has explained why I am here,’ he replied.
‘Your investigation? You seek information among the women? How interesting. How does the investigation go? Are we soon to hear who killed the Hibernian abbot?’
‘You will hear no doubt when the investigation is concluded,’ Eadulf replied. ‘So why are you visiting the Domus Femini?’
Again came the flash of Brother Andicca’s white teeth. He was, thought Eadulf, an extremely vain young man.
‘Although our communities are separated, we do occupy the same abbey, and this necessitates some communication.’ Eadulf could hear his patronising tone. ‘I assure you, Brother, there is nothing sinister to my being there.’
Eadulf bridled. ‘I did not suggest there was,’ he snapped.
Again the flash of teeth.
‘Of course not, Brother,’ the man said in a pacifying tone which made Eadulf almost grind his own teeth. ‘I heard that a poisonous snake had bitten the Sister from Hibernia. I hope it is nothing serious.’
‘No, it is nothing serious,’ replied Eadulf.
‘That is good. At this time of year the vipers in this part of the world are active. They can cause fatalities.’
‘She has been well treated.’
‘Ah, by the excellent Brother Gebicca, no doubt? That is good. One should have a care of snakes.’
Eadulf stared at the annoying young man.
‘I agree, Brother Andica. We shall have an especial care of snakes from now on. And now, if you will forgive me, I must be about my business.’
‘Vade in pace,’ replied the young man in a grave voice but he was smiling as if it were a jest.
With a brief nod, Eadulf strode on to the door of the Domus Femini and reached for the bell chain. He tugged on it, his ill humour somewhat increased. It was some time before the hatch swung back and the sharp eyes peered at him.
‘Brother Eadulf to see the abbatissa,’ he announced curtly.
The hatch slid shut and he heard the bolts rasping, metal against metal, before the door opened and he stepped inside without awaiting an invitation. The door shut behind him and he turned to see Sister Radegund sliding the bolts back into position.
‘Who was the young Sister letting out Brother Andica a few moments ago?’ he asked the stewardess brusquely.
Sister Radegund blinked. She seemed surprised at his question. ‘Who? Brother who?’
Eadulf sighed impatiently. ‘It is a simple question, surely?’
Sister Radegund coloured. ‘I assure you, Brother Eadulf,’ her tone was cold, ‘only I have opened and closed this door this morning.’
‘Are you telling me that Brother Andica did not pass through this door a few moments ago?’
‘Brother Andica? I can assure you that no brother has been here.’
Eadulf opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. That such a barefaced lie could be told was beyond his capability to deal with. If Sister Radegund had argued that the blue sky was, in fact, red in colour, there was no means to discuss the matter. So it was with this denial.
‘You wish to see Abbess Audofleda?’ the stewardess asked. ‘If so, come with me.’
Without waiting for his answer, she turned and hurried off. Eadulf, recalling the way to the abbess’s chambers from the last visit, fell in step behind Sister Radegund who, as before, moved at a remarkably rapid pace.
Abbess Audofleda was standing in her chambers before the fireplace. It seemed chill in the dark stone rooms of the abbey in spite of it being a hot summer’s day outside. She was dressed in
black robes, her dark eyes sparkling with controlled anger and her mouth a thin slit. Her hands, clasped tightly together before her, revealed the tension that was evident in the very stance of her body.
‘Brother Eadulf,’ announced Sister Radegund, taking up her stand as she had previously done in front of the closed door.
‘Well?’ The word from the abbess was a hiss, as if he were intruding in a place he was not wanted.
‘Abbatissa,’ Eadulf responded in an equally sharp tone, ‘I presume that you have spoken with Bishop Leodegar and you know why I have returned?’
Abbess Audofleda looked as if she was confronted by something distasteful.
‘I know that in spite of my protest at the arrogance displayed in your previous visit here, the bishop has informed me that I must see you again and answer your questions. I have been told that the woman from Hibernia lies ill from a snake bite, perhaps a just punishment for her arrogance. So I presume that you are to ask further questions.’
Eadulf’s face hardened. At least the attitude of the abbatissa did not soften his resolve to pursue the questions without making allowance for diplomacy.
‘As a member of the Faith, you will be comforted to know that Sister Fidelma has improved and is now healing from the bite of the poisonous snake,’ he replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘However, I am, indeed, here to act in her place in the pursuit of truth and justice. There should be no difficulties–veritas simplex oratio est–the language of truth is simple.’
Abbess Audofleda was clearly annoyed. ‘This matter is distasteful to me,’ she said. ‘So ask your questions, the quicker that this might be ended.’
‘Let us return to the matter of Sister Valetrade,’ began Eadulf.
‘We have already told you about her. She decided to leave us–that is all.’
‘Indeed,’ replied Eadulf. ‘You mentioned that she left you a note.’
The abbess sniffed. ‘What of it? They all left notes. She could read and write.’
‘I had assumed she could write,’ Eadulf replied without humour. ‘So she handed you this note?’
The Council of the Cursed Page 22