Read Absolution by Murder Online
Authors: Peter Tremayne
Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #Church History, #Fiction, #tpl, #Mystery, #Historical, #Clerical Sleuth, #Medieval Ireland
Absolution by Murder (6 page)
‘And the very old man who brings up the rear of the procession?’
She had caught sight of the last member of the group, who seemed as if he were a hundred, with bent back and a body that looked more like a walking skeleton than a living man.
‘That is the man who can sway the Saxons against us,’ observed Taran.
Fidelma raised an eyebrow.
‘Is that Wilfrid? I thought he was a younger man?’
Taran shook his head.
‘Not Wilfrid. That is Jacobus, whom the Saxons call James. Over sixty years ago, when Rome sought to reinforce the mission of Augustine in Kent, they sent a group of missionaries led by one called Paulinus. This Jacobus came with them – which makes him more than four score years in age. When Edwin of Northumbria married Aethelburh of Kent, the mother of Queen Eanflaed there, Paulinus came with her as her chaplain and made an unsuccessful attempt to convert the Northumbrians to the Roman path to Christ. He fled with Aethelburh and the baby Eanflaed back to Kent, where he died twenty years ago when the pagans rose up against them.’
‘And this Jacobus? This man James?’ pressed Fidelma. ‘Did he flee also?’
‘He remained behind in Catraeth, which the Saxons call Catterick, living sometimes as a hermit and sometimes attempting to convert the natives to Christ. I have no doubt that he will be called upon as proof that it was Rome who attempted to convert Northumbria before Iona and the argument put forward that Northumbria should be Roman. His venerability
and the fact that he is a Roman who knew both Paulinus and Augustine stands against us.’
and the fact that he is a Roman who knew both Paulinus and Augustine stands against us.’
Sister Fidelma was impressed, in spite of herself, with Brother Taran’s knowledge.
The procession had reached its appointed place now and the Abbess Hilda made a motion for all to rise.
Bishop Colman took a step forward and traced the sign of the Cross in the air. Then he held up his hand and gave the blessing in the style of the church of Iona, using the first, third and fourth fingers to denote the Trinity as opposed to the Roman use of the thumb and the first and second fingers. There was some murmuring from the ranks of the pro-Romans at this but Colman ignored it, asking a blessing in Greek, in which language the services of the church of Iona were usually said.
Then Deusdedit was helped forward and, in a soft whispering tone that underscored his apparent illness, he gave a blessing in the Roman style and in Latin.
Everyone became seated except Abbess Hilda.
‘Brothers and sisters in Christ, the debate is now begun. Is our church of Northumbria to follow the teachings of Iona, from where this land was raised from the darkness into the light of Christ, or is it to follow those of Rome, from where that light originally spread to this, the outer reaches of the world? The decision will be yours.’
She glanced to the benches on her right.
‘The opening arguments will now be made. Agilbert of Wessex, are you prepared to make your preliminary statement?’
‘No!’ came a rasping voice. There was a silence and then a swelling murmur.
Abbess Hilda raised her hand.
A lean dark-skinned man, with thin haughty-looking features
and an aquiline nose, rose to his feet.
and an aquiline nose, rose to his feet.
‘Agilbert is a Frank,’ whispered Taran. ‘He studied many years in Ireland.’
‘Many years ago,’ Agilbert began – in a hesitant, thickly accented Saxon, which Fidelma had to ask Taran to translate – ‘Cenwealh of Wessex invited me to be bishop in his kingdom. For ten years I fulfilled the office but Cenwealh became dissatisfied, claiming I did not speak his Saxon dialect well enough. And he appointed Wine as bishop above me. I left the land of the West Saxons. Now I am asked to argue for Roman observance. If I am not able to speak to the satisfaction of Cenwealh and the West Saxons, I am not capable of speaking in this place. Therefore, my pupil Wilfrid of Ripon shall open this debate for Rome.’
Fidelma frowned.
‘The Frank seems very touchy.’
‘I hear he is on his way back to Frankia because he has taken against all the Saxons.’
A small, stocky, younger man, with a red face and a brusque, pugnacious manner, had risen.
‘I, Wilfrid of Ripon, am prepared to put forward my preliminary arguments.’
Abbess Hilda inclined her head in acknowledgment.
‘And for the cause of Iona, is Abbess Étain of Kildare prepared with her preliminary remarks?’
The abbess had turned to the benches where those who supported the church of Iona were seated.
There was no reply.
Fidelma craned forward and for the first time she suddenly realised that she could not see Étain in the
sacrarium.
The murmuring became a roar.
sacrarium.
The murmuring became a roar.
Abbess Abbe’s voice sounded hollowly: ‘It seems the Abbess of Kildare is not in attendance.’
There was a commotion around one of the doors of the
sacrarium
and Fidelma caught sight of the figure of one of the brothers. He stood, ashen-faced, chest heaving, as he paused on the threshold.
sacrarium
and Fidelma caught sight of the figure of one of the brothers. He stood, ashen-faced, chest heaving, as he paused on the threshold.
‘Catastrophe!’ His voice was high pitched. ‘Oh brethren, catastrophe!’
Abbess Hilda gazed at the man with anger on her features.
‘Brother Agatho! You forget yourself!’
The monk hurried forward. Even from a distance Fidelma could see panic on his face.
‘Not I! Go to the windows and gaze at the sun! The hand of God is blotting it from the sky … the sky grows dark.
Domine dirige nos
! Surely this is a portent of evil on this assembly?’
Domine dirige nos
! Surely this is a portent of evil on this assembly?’
The words were translated hurriedly to Sister Fidelma by Taran, for she could not understand the rapid tongue of the Saxon.
There was a stirring in the
sacrarium
and many of those gathered hurried towards the windows and stared out.
sacrarium
and many of those gathered hurried towards the windows and stared out.
It was the austere Agilbert who turned to those who had still kept their places.
‘It is even as Brother Agatho has said. The sun is blotted from the sky. It is a harbinger of evil on these proceedings.’
Sister Fidelma turned with a look of incredulity to Brother Taran.
‘Are these Saxons so superstitious? Do they know nothing of astronomy?’
‘Very little,’ Taran replied smugly. ‘Our people have given them some knowledge but they are slow to learn.’
‘But someone should inform them that this is no supernatural phenomenon.’
‘They would not thank you for it.’ Sister Gwid sniffed disapprovingly from her other side.
‘But many of our brethren here are well versed in the science of astronomy and know of eclipses and other phenomena of the sky,’ Fidelma pointed out.
Brother Taran motioned her to silence, for Wilfrid, the pugnacious-sounding chief spokesman of the pro-Roman faction, was on his feet.
‘Surely, this blotting out of the sun is, indeed, an ill omen, my brethren. But what does it convey? It conveys this simple message – unless the churchmen and women of this country turn from the misconceptions of Columba to the one true universal church of Rome, then Christianity will be blotted from the land as God has blotted the sun from the sky. It is a portent, indeed.’
There was uproar as the pro-Roman faction applauded their agreement while the representatives of the church of Columba
shouted their defiance at what they considered an outrageous statement.
shouted their defiance at what they considered an outrageous statement.
A man in his thirties with the tonsure of Columba leapt to his feet, his face working in anger.
‘How does Wilfrid of Ripon know this thing? Has God spoken to him directly to explain this phenomenon in our skies? Surely, it can equally be argued that the portent means that Rome should come into line with Columba? Unless those who support Rome’s revisions of the true faith turn back to Columba then, indeed, will Christianity be blotted from the land.’
Howls of outrage echoed along the benches of the pro-Roman faction.
‘That was Cuthbert of Melrose,’ Taran said with a grin. He was clearly enjoying the argument. ‘It was Wilfrid who, at Alhfrith’s behest, threw him out of Ripon because he followed the custom of Columba.’
Oswy, the king, rose now. The uproar died away almost immediately.
‘This argument will achieve us nothing. These proceedings will be suspended until—’
An inarticulate cry prevented him completing the sentence.
‘The sun appears again!’ exclaimed a voice from one of the observers at the window.
There was another general movement to the windows as several craned their heads towards the blue afternoon sky.
‘Indeed, it does. The black shape is moving away,’ called another. ‘See, here is the sun’s light.’
The greyness of the twilight was suddenly gone and the light flooded back through the windows of the
sacrarium.
sacrarium.
Sister Fidelma found herself shaking her head, astounded by the proceedings. She had been educated in a culture whose
science had long gazed at the stars and noted their motions.
science had long gazed at the stars and noted their motions.
‘It is hard to believe that these people can be in such ignorance of the movements in the heavens. In our monastic and bardic schools any qualified instructor is able to tell the courses of the sun and moon. Why, every intelligent person should know the day of the solar month, the age of the moon, the time of the flow of the tide, the day of the week – and the times of eclipses are no secret.’
Brother Taran grinned derisively.
‘You forget that your countrymen and the Britons are renowned through many lands for their knowledge of astronomy. But these Saxons are still barbarians.’
‘But surely they have read the treatise of the great Dallán Forgaill, who explained how often the moon stands before the sun, thus blotting out its light from the skies?’
Taran shrugged.
‘Only a few of these Saxons are able to read and write. And they were not even capable of those accomplishments until the blessed Aidán arrived in this land. They could not even write down their own language, far less construe the languages of others.’
The Abbess Hilda was banging a staff on the stone floor for attention. Reluctantly, the members of the assembly were returning to their benches. The muttering of their voices began to die away.
‘Light has returned and so we may continue. Has the Abbess of Kildare joined the proceedings yet?’ Sister Fidelma turned her mind back to the matter in hand and found herself bewildered. The space assigned to the Abbess Étain still remained unfilled.
Wilfrid of Ripon had risen with a smirk.
‘If the chief speaker of the church of Columba is not willing to join us, perhaps we should proceed without her?’
‘There are plenty more who will speak on our behalf!’ shouted back Cuthbert, not bothering to rise this time.
Again the Abbess Hilda banged her staff of office.
Then for the second time the assembly was abruptly interrupted by the great doors swinging open. This time a young sister with white face and staring eyes entered the
sacrarium.
It was obvious that she had been running – her hair was in disarray, spilling beneath her headdress. She paused, her eyes searching the vast chamber. Then she hurried directly to where the Abbess Hilda stood in bewilderment, just below the king.
sacrarium.
It was obvious that she had been running – her hair was in disarray, spilling beneath her headdress. She paused, her eyes searching the vast chamber. Then she hurried directly to where the Abbess Hilda stood in bewilderment, just below the king.
Wonderingly, Fidelma watched as the sister moved swiftly to the Abbess Hilda, who bent forward so that the woman might whisper into her ear. Fidelma could not see Hilda’s face, but she saw the abbess rise and move immediately towards the king, bending and repeating whatever message had been brought.
The
sacrarium
was now silent as the churchmen and delegates sat watching the new drama.
sacrarium
was now silent as the churchmen and delegates sat watching the new drama.
The king rose and left, followed a short while later by Hilda, Abbe, Colman, Deusdedit, Wighard and Jacobus.
There was sudden uproar in the chamber as those gathered turned excitedly to each other to see if any knew the meaning of this curious behaviour. Voices were raised in speculation.
Two Northumbrian religieuses from Coldingham who were seated behind Fidelma were of the opinion that an army of Britons had invaded the kingdom, taking advantage of the king’s preoccupation with the synod. They could remember the invasion of Cadwallon ap Cadfan, king of Gwynedd, which had ravaged the kingdom and caused the slaughter of many during one ill-fated year. But a brother of a house at Gilling,
seated in front, interrupted with the opinion that it was more likely that the Mercians were invading, for had not Wulfhere, the son of Penda, sworn to re-establish Mercian independence from Northumbria and already begun to re-assert its dominance south of the Humber? The Mercians were always looking for a chance to avenge themselves on Oswy, who had slain Penda and, for three years, ruled Mercia. And even though Wulfhere had sent a royal representative to the synod it was just the sort of dirty trick the Mercians would play.
seated in front, interrupted with the opinion that it was more likely that the Mercians were invading, for had not Wulfhere, the son of Penda, sworn to re-establish Mercian independence from Northumbria and already begun to re-assert its dominance south of the Humber? The Mercians were always looking for a chance to avenge themselves on Oswy, who had slain Penda and, for three years, ruled Mercia. And even though Wulfhere had sent a royal representative to the synod it was just the sort of dirty trick the Mercians would play.
Fidelma was intrigued to hear the political speculation but for one not well acquainted with the position of the Saxon kingdoms it sounded very confusing. It was so unlike her native land, where there seemed a clear order under law and where the High King and his court were the final authority in the land. Even though some petty kings might dispute with the High King they at least acknowledged the nominal rule of Tara. The Saxons always seemed to be quarrelling among themselves and using the sword as the only arbiter in law.
A hand fell on her shoulder. A young sister leaned across her.
‘Sister Fidelma? The Mother Abbess requires your presence in her chambers immediately.’
Surprised and somewhat bewildered, ignoring the looks of open curiosity from Sister Gwid and Brother Taran, Sister Fidelma rose and followed the young religieuse away from the pandemonium and confusion of the
sacrarium
and along the quieter corridors until she found herself ushered into the chamber of the Abbess Hilda. The abbess was standing before her fire, hands clasped before her. Her face was grey and grave. Bishop Colmán was seated in the chair to one side of the fire as he had been seated on the previous evening. He, too, had an air of
solemnity, as if weighed down by a heavy problem.
sacrarium
and along the quieter corridors until she found herself ushered into the chamber of the Abbess Hilda. The abbess was standing before her fire, hands clasped before her. Her face was grey and grave. Bishop Colmán was seated in the chair to one side of the fire as he had been seated on the previous evening. He, too, had an air of
solemnity, as if weighed down by a heavy problem.
They both appeared almost too preoccupied to notice her entrance.
‘Mother Abbess, you sent for me?’
Hilda seemed to pull herself together with a sigh and glanced at Colmán who responded with a curious gesture of his hand as if motioning her to proceed.
‘My lord bishop reminds me that you are an advocate of the law in your own land, Fidelma.’
Sister Fidelma frowned.
‘That is so,’ she confirmed, wondering what was coming.
‘He reminds me that you have acquired a reputation for unravelling mysteries, for solving crimes.’
Fidelma waited expectantly.
‘Sister Fidelma,’ went on the abbess after a pause, ‘I have great need of the talents of one such as you.’
‘I am willing to place my poor abilities at your disposal,’ Fidelma replied slowly, wondering what problem had arisen.
Abbess Hilda bit her lip as she struggled to frame the sentences.
‘I have bad news, sister. The Abbess Étain of Kildare was found in her cell this morning. Her throat was cut – cut in such a manner that one is left with but one interpretation. The Abbess Étain was most foully murdered.’
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