Read A Prayer for the Damned Online

Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Medieval Ireland

A Prayer for the Damned (22 page)

BOOK: A Prayer for the Damned
11.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘So, Sister Sétach, what was so important here that you must risk your life in such a perilous manner?’

The girl shrugged. ‘You would not understand.’

‘I cannot understand unless you attempt to tell me.’

This was met with silence.

‘Would you like to tell me where you climbed out on to the ledge to make your way here so that the guard did not see you?’

‘There is a window at the end of the corridor.’

Fidelma’s eyes widened a little. ‘You crawled along that ledge for a distance of ten metres?’

‘There was room enough to move along the ledge without crawling, as you put it.’

‘So, again I ask you, what was so valuable that you must gain access to this chamber by such a means?’

The girl was silent for a moment and Fidelma was about to press her authority on her when she said: ‘I wanted to make sure that Abbot Ultán’s possessions had not been taken.’

Fidelma was puzzled. ‘Why would they be?’

The girl was silent again. Fidelma was exasperated.

‘Do you know that I am a
dálaigh
, a representative of the courts, and that you have to answer my questions?’

The girl’s chin rose defiantly. ‘I know well who you are. You are Fidelma of Cashel, masquerading as a religieuse. You are defending the murderer who slaughtered Abbot Ultán.’

Fidelma heard the hostility in the girl’s voice. ‘You have been identified as Sister Sétach. Is that so?’ she asked mildly.

The girl nodded.

‘You have a companion who also served the late Abbot Ultán. What is her name?’

‘Sister Marga.’ The girl sounded reluctant in her response.

‘Very well, Sister Sétach. I am, indeed, Fidelma of Cashel, and I am also
dálaigh
. Whatever else you think I am, remember that I am a representative of the law and as such you are duty bound to answer my questions. Do you understand?’

Once more there was silence.

‘Do you know the phrase
qui tacet consentit
– those who remain silent consent? I will take it that your silence means that you do understand. Now, I understand that you came here in the company of Ultán.’

‘Of Ultán, abbot of Cill Ria,’ snapped the girl.

Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘Exactly so. What was your task in that company?’

‘I was a record keeper, as was my sister in Christ, Sister Marga.’

‘You both served in the abbey of Cill Ria?’

The girl hesitated. ‘The abbey is divided into two separate communities, one for males and the other for females.’

‘So I understand,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘What sort of records were you keeping?’

The girl shifted uneasily on her seat. ‘Brother Drón was the scribe to Abbot Ultán. He was our immediate superior.’

‘We have spoken with Brother Drón. I would like to know from you about your own work.’

‘Then you will know that Abbot Ultán was sent as envoy from the
archiepiscopus
of Ard Macha to bring order into the churches of the five kingdoms and secure the Blessed Patrick’s church as the primacy. We were travelling through the kingdoms and discussing these matters with the bishops and abbots. It was my task – and that of Sister Marga – to make the records of these meetings so that we might, on our
return to Ard Macha, present a full account of matters to the Comarb of Patrick.’

‘I understand. And how did you regard Abbot Ultán?’

A frown crossed Sister Sétach’s forehead. ‘What do you mean?’ she said defensively.

‘You are from Cill Ria and you have travelled many miles with Abbot Ultán. Did you like him? What did you think of him?’

Sister Sétach hesitated. ‘He was a wonderful and pious man,’ she replied, but there was a hesitation in her voice which was not lost on either Fidelma or Eadulf.

‘How long had you known him?’

‘Since I entered the community of Cill Ria.’

‘And when was that?’

‘Three years ago.’

‘Were you chosen by the abbot for this task, this keeping of records?’

Sister Sétach shook her head.

‘So how did you join this embassy? Through Brother Drón?’

‘It was Sister Marga who asked me to join her as her companion. The abbot had asked her to come along to keep the records and said she could choose a companion to help her. She asked me.’

‘I see. But you were happy to come?’

The girl nodded emphatically. ‘It was a wonderful way to see the world beyond the Sperrins.’

‘The what?’

‘They are mountains in the country of Cill Ria. I had never been south before.’

‘And did you get on well with Abbot Ultán?’

Again there came the slight frown. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Fidelma sighed impatiently. ‘Was Ultán a pleasant person to work for? Were you at ease in his company? Was he a demanding taskmaster?’

‘He was demanding … yes,’ said Sister Sétach. ‘He was especially so with Brother Drón, who was his close adviser in the discussions. Sister Marga and I merely made the records of our travels.’

‘In the time that you spent at Cill Ria did you ever hear any stories about Ultán, about the time before he entered the religious life?’

Again came that defensive lifting of the chin. ‘There were stories,’ the girl Fínally admitted.

‘What did you think of them?’

‘They were of no concern to me. What a person has done in the past remains in the past so long as, if they have done wrong, they have truly repented and sought forgiveness. Is that not the essence of the Faith, Fidelma of Cashel?’

‘So you were happy with Ultán?’

‘That is not the way I would view it. I served the Faith in Cill Ria and Abbot Ultán was the superior there. He was regarded by all as a man of piety and strength, a great leader and reformer, who, in his martyrdom, will soon become venerated throughout the five kingdoms.’

Fidelma sat back and gazed thoughtfully at the girl.

‘Martyrdom? Well, let us return to why you risked your life to get back into this room.’

Sister Sétach made a curious gesture with her shoulders as if in dismissal of the question. ‘I did not believe that I was risking my life.’

Eadulf had been leaning by the window but his keen eyes had been searching the chamber in the flickering light of the lantern. He suddenly walked across the room to a chest in the corner.

‘Did you find what you were searching for?’ he asked mildly, looking down. Then he added, for Fidelma’s benefit, ‘This chest appears to be Ultán’s personal box. It seems to have been opened and closed in a hurried fashion since I saw it this morning. There are some clothes poking out of the lid where they have not been put back carefully.’

Fidelma nodded, still looking at the girl. ‘What were you looking for?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Ah, then there will be nothing on you if you are searched?’

‘You would not dare search me?’ the girl said, aghast.

‘I am a
dálaigh.’
Fidelma smiled. ‘It would be my duty to search you.’

‘I have taken nothing. You will find nothing. Go ahead. Search!’

‘Let us apply some logic, Sister Sétach,’ said Fidelma. ‘You came
asking to see the chamber. The guard refused you entry. You then climbed out of a window on to a dangerous ledge, which even a mountain goat would not dare to climb, and, in spite of the peril to your life, you made your way along it to enter this chamber in order to search Ultán’s belongings. Now what could inspire such foolhardy courage?’

There was a silence and then the girl sighed. ‘If you must know, it was imperative to make sure all Abbot Ultán’s belongings were safe. The records of the meetings, especially. Nature dictates that you will have to bury his mortal remains here. But we will take his belongings back to Cill Ria, where they will be regarded as relics of inestimable value.’

Eadulf was astounded. ‘You came looking for mercenary wealth?’

‘Not at all,’ snapped Sister Sétach. ‘The relics will be beyond worldly value. They will be the subject of pilgrimage to Cill Ria – for Ultán will be our first great martyred saint.’ The girl’s voice was full of fanatical enthusiasm.

Fidelma was shaking her head slightly. ‘Very well, Sister Sétach. Return to your room. I have no more questions for the time being.’

Even Eadulf looked surprised. The girl stood up hesitantly, seeming unsure of herself.

‘Can … can I take the chest?’ she asked at length.

‘Not until the matter has been resolved. The chest will remain here.’

The girl moved reluctantly to the door. Outside, the warrior Enda was barring the way and Fidelma called on him to let the girl pass.

After she had gone and Fidelma and Eadulf were alone in the chamber again, it was Eadulf who uttered the first words.

‘You can’t really believe what the girl said? Holy relics? That’s ridiculous.’

Fidelma smiled without humour. ‘We could have sat here until the next feast day of Imbolc and not extracted more information out of the girl. Of course, she was lying.’

‘Then why didn’t you search her?’ protested Eadulf.

‘Because she did not have anything on her. If she had, she would not have been so quick to challenge me to search her.’

‘She could have been bluffing.’

‘I believe not. She had not found what she was looking for. We might have interrupted her before she discovered whatever it was she wanted. Let’s have a look at this chest.’

Eadulf dragged forward the small travelling chest. It was not heavy. He opened the lid while Fidelma held the lantern.

‘Items of clothing, robes,’ Eadulf muttered as he lifted them out one by one.

Fidelma leaned forward. ‘Some leather bags and underneath some papers. What’s in the leather bags?’

Eadulf checked through them. ‘Various coins and some nuggets of gold in this one, and in the other …’ He took out a piece of exquisite jewellery. ‘It seems that our abbot had good taste in necklaces,’ he said, holding it up.

‘It could be that you were right, Eadulf, when you asked the girl if she had come looking for mercenary wealth. I don’t think that it was relics to be venerated that she was after.’

‘You mean that she was after the jewels and money?’

‘Unless it was the records that she and Sister Marga were making of the meetings.’

Eadulf started thumbing through the papers.

‘You might be right,’ he said ruefully. ‘They appear to be reports on leading churchmen of the abbeys that Ultán has visited.’ He pulled a face. ‘Those who favour recognition of Ard Macha as primatial seat get good marks, those who don’t are marked with disfavour. There is also a Latin book here …
Liber Angeli
, something to do with the history of Ard Macha.’

‘Well, there is little else here which might indicate what Sister Sétach was looking for.’

‘It would be a little ironic, if it were jewels that she was after. A thief stealing from a man who had been a famous thief.’

‘And murderer,’ added Fidelma. ‘Don’t forget that.’

‘A connection between the two?’

Fidelma considered and then shook her head. ‘
Alis volat propriis
, as Publilius …’

‘… Syrus said,’ finished Eadulf, who knew of Fidelma’s fondness for the
Maxims
of the former slave from Antioch. ‘She flies by her own wings. So Sister Sétach is an independent thief?’

‘We would do well to watch her, that is all I am saying.’

Eadulf replaced the papers in the box.

‘We’ll get Enda to take the box and lock it in my brother’s strong-room,’ Fidelma said. ‘It will be safe there.’

They called Enda in and gave him the instruction. Then, taking a last look around the chamber in which Ultán had met his death, they left.

‘What now?’ asked Eadulf as they settled in chairs before their own hearth and stretched towards its warming glow.

‘Now?’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Now it is time to bathe and prepare for the evening meal. This was to have been our marriage feast so I will expect we shall have to eat with our guests in lieu of it.’

Eadulf wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Fidelma stood up suddenly. ‘I am going to call Muirgen to start preparing the baths. After the feasting there is another thing that we must do.’

Eadulf raised his head wearily. ‘What is that?’

‘We must attend the funeral of Abbot Ultán at midnight. It will be interesting to see who attends that ceremony and why.’

‘Attend it?’ Eadulf had not been expecting that. This Irish custom of committing the body into the grave at midnight was one he found curious. ‘It will be late,’ he protested, ‘and don’t I have to be up at dawn to go on this boar hunt?’

Fidelma grinned mischievously at him. ‘Then it is lucky that dawn arrives late on a winter morning.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A
small crowd had gathered in the lantern-lit graveyard that was known as Relig na nGall, the graveyard of strangers, within the dark shadows of the towering rock of Cashel. It was where distinguished strangers who died in Cashel were laid to rest. Fidelma and Eadulf had accompanied Colgú to the place. The High King Sechnassach and the Chief Brehon, Barrán, were in attendance with the other nobles, among whom was Blathmac, the king of Ulaidh. It was obvious that most of them were attending out of diplomatic courtesy, although Muirchertach, king of Connacht, was not surprisingly absent. Also attending were Abbot Ségdae of Imleach, Abbot Laisran of Durrow, Abbot Augaire of Conga and several other members of the religious. Most of these had come out of duty rather than respect. The brehons Baithen and Ninnid also were present, and the chief mourners were Brother Drón and the two religieuse, Sisters Sétach and Marga.

BOOK: A Prayer for the Damned
11.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Pride of the Clan by Anna Markland
Remaking by Blake Crouch
Not Your Average Happy Ending by Chantele Sedgwick
A Pox Upon Us by Ron Foster
Driven Lust by Abby Adams Publishing
Captive at Christmas by Danielle Taylor
Shadow Rising, The by Jordan, Robert