‘And you disagree with that?’
‘As we told you before, you will find few who agree. It is a fact that the Bishop of Rome sent Patricius here as his bishop to those who had
already
been converted to the Faith. Moreover, he was sent here to argue against what Rome saw as the heretical teachings of Pelagius, which we had accepted. There were many teachers of the Faith here before Patricius the Briton – even the emissary from Rome, Palladius, who our friends in Ard Macha would prefer to wipe out of history.’
‘So you would not agree that the abbots or bishops of Ard Macha have an historic right to be Archbishops over all these kingdoms?’
‘Certainly not. Ségéne, the current Abbot of Ard Macha,’ Abbot Ségdae carefully emphasised the correct title, ‘is even opposed by the Abbot of Dún Lethglaisse, for it was there that the same Patricius the Briton lived, died and is buried.’
‘So who would you claim to be senior among the churches?’ pressed the Venerable Verax.
‘Here in Muman we have had several teachers of the Faith who taught and established their abbeys in the south before Patricius the Briton arrived in the northern kingdoms. I, for example, am the
comarb
, the successor of the Blessed Ailbhe of Imleach; then there was Ciarán of Saighir; Declán of Ard Mór; Abbán of Magh Arnaide; Fiacc established the abbey of Slèibhte before Patricius visited him there; even Ibar set up his community on the island of Beg Ériu in Laighin long before Patricius.’
‘Are you saying that these abbeys would claim precedence over Ard Macha?’
‘It is long known that Imleach has been regarded as the first and most senior abbey in the south of this island. It is accepted in our Kingdom of Muman.’ Colgú spoke deliberately in support of his Chief Bishop as it seemed that Abbot Ségdae was taking the brunt of the debate with the Roman prelate.
‘If you had asked these same questions in the Kingdom of Laighin, on your way here, I think you would have received similar answers,’ confirmed Fidelma.
The Venerable Verax turned to her. ‘Ah yes . . ., you were formerly Sister Fidelma and dwelled some time among the religious at Cill Dara. I am told that is in the Kingdom of Laighin?’
‘I was there until I decided to serve my brother in my capacity as an advocate of our laws.’
‘I heard that you left the abbey, after having disagreed with the abbess? Abbess Ita, wasn’t it?’ mused the Venerable Verax.
Fidelma made no reply, remembering the crimes of the abbess from which she had walked away, rather than expose her as a thief and murderess. Soon after, Abbess Ita had left and disappeared on some missionary cause beyond the shores of Laighin.
‘Abbot Moling, who is Chief Bishop of Laighin, told me Cill Dara also claims to have precedence over all the other religious houses because it was established by the Blessed Brigit,’ went on the Venerable Verax. ‘That would never be countenanced by Rome.’
‘Why so?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Because Cill Dara is a . . . what do you call a mixed house of men and women and their children? There is both an abbess and an abbot. I am told that Abbot Máel Dobarchon is currently answerable to Abbess Gnáthnat who is regarded as the true successor of the Blessed Brigit. Now that would make the senior cleric in these kingdoms a woman. That is a preposterous idea!’
‘To your way of thinking,’ Fidelma responded spiritedly.
‘So who else could come forward to claim the Archbishop’s title in the Five Kingdoms?’ the Venerable Verax asked.
Abbot Ségdae turned to his steward, Brother Madagan, who had been silent. The steward cleared his throat as he realised he was expected to answer the question.
‘I would presume that Abbot Colmán Cass of Cluain Mic Nois, where many of the kings of that place are buried. They would have as much right as any. But if you are here to discover who has the better claim to be Archbishop over all the Five Kingdoms, then you will have a hard task. In spite of what the abbots of Ard Macha have written to Rome – for we know they have already done so – there are many among all Five Kingdoms who would dispute their claim.’
The Venerable Verax considered the matter. ‘But rising from such disputes, you might say that there are some bishops or abbots here who would give much to show that they were endowed with the blessing of such an office by the Bishop of Rome himself?’ The question was directed at Abbot Ségdae.
‘I am not sure that any abbot of the Five Kingdoms would consider it necessary,’ Abbot Ségdae replied with a brief smile. ‘The Bishop of Rome is recognised as senior bishop of the Faith as a courtesy, for it was in Rome, so we are told, that the foundations of the Faith were laid and from where the teachings spread through the world.’
‘But you would agree that such recognition by Rome would be valuable to support such a claim?’
Abbot Ségdae shrugged. ‘I suppose it would be considered worth something. However, at the moment it is only Abbot Ségéne of Ard Macha who seems intent on getting recognition from Rome of such a title. For the rest of us, what is more meaningful is being
comarb
– successor – to the first of our blessed teachers.’
The Venerable Verax sat back, nodding thoughtfully. ‘But still valuable?’ he asked softly.
‘Such recognition would influence some,’ conceded the abbot.
There was a silence and then the Venerable Verax stood up and inclined his head towards the King. ‘The day grows late and I must prepare for this feast and entertainment that you are so kindly providing for our poor inquisitive deputation. Do I have your permission to retire?’
Colgú was looking bewildered. ‘So this was the purpose of your delegation? You have come to enquire about our views on whether we would accept an Archbishop from Canterbury or support the establishment of our own Chief Bishop over all the Five Kingdoms?’
‘That is our purpose,’ agreed the Venerable Verax solemnly.
Colgú waited until the doors had closed behind the prelate before turning to Abbot Ségdae and expressing his mystification. ‘I have little understanding of these arguments, but it seems that these people have made a very long journey simply to engage in an exercise of pointless speculation and argument.’
Eadulf added: ‘I am afraid that most of the countless councils summoned by the Church are about silly, small and trivial details. Why, we might even hear of a council meeting to discuss whether Christ owned His own sandals.’
‘Well, I for one am glad that the speculation about this strange deputation is over,’ Abbot Ségdae commented.
As a murmur of agreement began, it was Fidelma’s quiet voice that suddenly caused them to fall silent.
‘You forget that one member of this strange deputation was murdered in our chapel here. Was he really killed merely because he was enquiring whether the clergy of the Five Kingdoms wanted a Chief Bishop over them?’
As she and Eadulf crossed the courtyard a short time later, Fidelma was even more forthcoming.
‘The Venerable Verax made no mention of Victricius,’ she pointed out. ‘Yet it was your mention of Victricius that drew him out to make some explanation to us. Why? That explanation is not good enough. I believe the Venerable Verax was lying about the purpose of his mission here.’
T
he traditional welcome feast for distinguished guests had been hastily arranged. Dar Luga, the housekeeper, took over the management of the meal while Gormán attended to the protocols of the feasting hall. By the time Fidelma and Eadulf came into the hall, the guests were already arriving and being shown to their places. At a formal meal, everyone was assigned positions according to their rank. The tables were arranged along the walls, with the table for the guests of highest rank placed at the head of the chamber on a raised dais. Here would be seated King Colgú, and, usually, his heir-apparent and his Chief Brehon. However, Finguine, the
tánaiste
or heir-apparent, was absent gathering tributes from outlying territories, and Brehon Aillín had sent a message to the King excusing himself from attending in the circumstances. So Abbot Ségdae, as Chief Bishop of Muman, would sit next to the King on his right side while Fidelma and Eadulf would sit on his left.
Usually Gormán, as commander of the élite bodyguard, would also be seated – but since he had taken on Beccan’s role to oversee the feasting, he would have to stand behind the King’s chair. Because of his rank and position, he would be the only person allowed in the feasting hall to bear weapons. Ancient law and custom prohibited any other weapons to be carried within.
The visiting guests, the Venerable Verax and Bishop Arwald, were seated at the right hand nearest the top table. Seated behind them, but not at the table, was Brother Bosa who was to act as translator, as neither Verax nor Arwald spoke the language of the country, although they could both converse easily in Latin.
Because of the hurried arrangements, only a few local princes of the kingdom and their ladies were attending. These were princes of the branches of the Eóghanacht families such as Áine, Airthir Chliach, Glendamnach and the Chief of the Múscraige Breogan. They sat with their wives, each before their shields, hung on the wall behind them, and attended by their shield-bearers, who stood respectfully at their left shoulder. There was also a mix of religious: the Abbess Líoch, for example, and some of the local clerics, including old Brother Conchobhar, ranging along the tables to Sister Dianaimh who sat with Brother Madagan. Only one side of the long tables was occupied, for it was a tradition that no one sat directly opposite one another.
Fidelma breathed a sigh of relief as it seemed that Gormán had been able to get the seating protocols right, for any error could lead to a dispute which would be unseemly in front of foreign guests.
There was a sudden blast, followed by two more, as the
fear-stuic
, the trumpeter, blew the traditional signal for the arrival of the King. As the assembly rose, Colgú entered through a curtained portal behind his chair. Gormán, who had no staff of office to thump on the floor, merely stepped forward and called in stentorian tones: ‘Give welcome to Colgú, son of Failbhe Flann son of Áedo Dubh, fifty-ninth in generation descent to Eibhear Fionn, son of Milidh, Milesius the warrior, who brought the Children of the Gael to this land and who subdued the Goddesses of Sovereignty – Éire, Banba and Fodhla. Colgú, descendant of Eóghan Mór, the progenitor of the great clan of the Eóghanacht, whose descendant Corc set up his citadel on this blessed Rock, the fortress of this Kingdom of Muman. Give welcome to Colgú, undisputed King of the Five Territories of Muman.’
Eadulf cast a surprised glance at Fidelma because usually Colgú had little time for such ritual and had been known several times to stop his steward from reciting the full rite. He had even known Colgú to halt the bards singing the traditional
forsundud
or ancestral praise poems in his presence. ‘It is no use praising me for my ancestors,’ he would say. ‘I would rather the bards recognise me for what I do rather than what my fathers did.’ However, Fidelma, who usually shared her brother’s irritation on such matters, was sitting with a solemn expression. Looking across to where the Venerable Verax and Bishop Arwald were seated, Eadulf realised that Colgú was allowing this ritual for their benefit. He could see Brother Bosa struggling to explain what was going on.
When it was over, Colgú raised his goblet. ‘I bid you all welcome this night. Health to the men – and may the women live forever!’ It was the ancient toast, and those of the assembly who understood it responded in kind.
At the end of the hall, at a signal from Gormán, a group of musicians began to play soft music while the doors opened and a line of attendants entered with a variety of freshly cooked dishes, from venison and mutton to roasted boar; to dishes of goose eggs, sausages, and assorted vegetables: from cabbages spiced with wild garlic to leeks and onions cooked in butter – all served with an assortment of drinks: some wines imported from Gaul, but mainly cider, especially
nenadmin
, made from wild crabapples.
As feastings went, it was not one of the best Eadulf had attended. Even Fidelma was subdued and when he looked, Eadulf saw her gaze was fastened moodily on their guests. The table conversation was sporadic. There seemed no lightness to it, in spite of the best efforts of the musicians to introduce some note of levity by the choice of their compositions. Matters eased somewhat when Colgú rose and indicated that the guests should circulate and chat to one another. Eadulf suddenly found himself being confronted by Bishop Arwald.
‘Well, Brother Eadulf, it seems I was misinformed about you being in Canterbury recently. I apologise.’
‘As I told you, it is many years since I was there.’
‘I believe that you know much about this kingdom?’
‘As much as a foreigner can learn in the years that I have been here,’ Eadulf conceded.
‘Yet you have a unique role, being related by marriage to the King.’
‘It has led to certain privileges,’ Eadulf acknowledged diffidently. ‘As well as certain disadvantages.’
‘But you have come to know the leading members of the nobility here?’