The Devil's Seal (8 page)

‘Sister Dianaimh? The
bann-mhaor
is so quiet, it’s as if she is but a shadow. You would almost think that she did not exist. She has a strange name – one that I have not encountered before.’ Fidelma grimaced without humour. ‘It’s a Laighin name, and means “Flawless One”. She should have been named “Silent One”. Well, I suppose there is little we can do but find out if anyone was seen lurking around the chapel when you were in there. You said that Brother Conchobhar didn’t see anything?’

‘Nothing. You know – Aillín is right,’ Eadulf suddenly declared.

Fidelma turned to him. ‘Right about what?’

‘If I were in his place, I would suspect me.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped.

‘You forget that I am an Angle. I could easily have known Brother Cerdic before. I know something of the kingdom from which his bishop comes. Who is to say that I did not know him or anything about this curious deputation?’

Fidelma suddenly chuckled, causing Eadulf to look puzzled.

‘It’s the first time I have heard someone
demanding
to be a suspect in a murder.’

Eadulf grinned. ‘All I am saying is that Aillín has a point.’

‘Aillín is a bitter old man who was not talented enough to be endorsed as Chief Brehon by the Council of Brehons. Only Áedo’s death caused him to reach the position he has, as my brother said. Unfortunately, he has no breadth of vision, no imagination to see beyond literal fact. Anyway, enough of Aillín. Let us go and speak with Brother Conchobhar and see if he has anything more to tell us, now that he has examined the body.’

But Brother Conchobhar could tell them nothing more than to confirm the manner of Brother Cerdic’s death, which they already knew. With a feeling of frustration the couple left the apothecary. A call arrested their attention and they turned to see Gormán hurrying after them.

‘Gormán!’ Fidelma smiled at the newly appointed commander of her brother’s bodyguard. ‘It is good to see that you have returned safely. Did you resolve the dispute at Áth Thine? Is all well?’

Gormán returned the greeting with a big smile. ‘Áth Thine was nothing more complicated than an argument that a local Brehon could have resolved, lady. It was a simple dispute over cattle straying across the border. However, there seems to be a more serious dispute brewing among the Déisi.’

‘More serious?’ queried Eadulf.

‘Some travellers were attacked on the river east of the Field of Honey, and two boatmen and one of the travellers, an elderly religieux, were killed. It occurred on the river just beyond Brother Siolán’s little chapel,’ confirmed Gormán. ‘We were just crossing the Mountain of Women, heading for the Field of Honey in the late afternoon, when we came across the scene.’

Fidelma was shocked. ‘Who attacked these travellers?’

‘We heard that Prince Cummasach of the Déisi has been having trouble with some of his young men of late. We reported the matter to the Brehon at the Field of Honey and he will investigate. One of the travellers survived and said they had arranged to meet a Brother Docgan there. We asked around, but no one had heard of such a man.’

‘Docgan is a Saxon name,’ Eadulf told them. ‘It means “a little dog”.’

‘You say there was a survivor?’ Fidelma asked.

‘Yes. We brought him here with us. I think you should speak with him, friend Eadulf. I have taken him to your chamber.’

Eadulf gazed at the young warrior for a moment, waiting for him to explain further.

‘You are being very mysterious, Gormán.’ It was Fidelma who made the comment.

The warrior shrugged diffidently. ‘I just need to make sure that the man I have escorted here
is
who he says he is. Friend Eadulf needs to see the man first.’

Eadulf was puzzled, but quickly realising that he would get no more information from Gormán, he said: ‘Then the sooner I see this survivor, the better.’

He turned and led the way to the chambers that he shared with Fidelma.

Entering, they were aware that Gormán had apparently left Enda to watch over the guest. The warrior greeted them with a quick nod and smile before they turned to examine the figure on the far side of the chamber, standing with its back towards them, gazing out of the window. Hearing their entrance, it slowly turned. It was a young man.

Eadulf moved involuntarily backwards with a gasp. ‘You!’ was all he said.

T
he young man simply stood with arms held out.

‘It is indeed myself, Eadulf,’ he replied with a chuckle. The words were exchanged in their own language but Fidelma knew enough of it to understand.

‘I believed you to be dead, these many years,’ Eadulf said with emotion.

‘Far be it for me to shatter your beliefs, dear brother,’ replied the other, still smiling. ‘Yet, in this matter, I am glad that I can do so.’

‘Egric, it is truly you?’ Eadulf was still shaking his head in disbelief.

‘And ten years older, brother.’

Eadulf suddenly moved, crossing the distance between them, and flung his arms around the young man. A torrent of his native language poured from him that Fidelma had no hope of following, so rapid and inflected was it.

The newcomer laughingly disengaged himself, replying in the same language. Then he looked towards Fidelma and seemed to ask a question. Eadulf turned with an apology.

‘This is my younger brother, Egric.’ The introduction was almost unnecessary. With the two of them, side by side, the likeness was obvious.

‘He said as much,’ Gormán told them. ‘But I had to make sure. Now we shall leave you to your family reunion.’ He motioned to Enda to follow him from the room.

After Eadulf had introduced Fidelma, Muirgen was summoned to bring drinks and refreshment as they seated themselves before the fire.

‘There is obviously much to catch up on,’ Eadulf said, first in his own tongue and then he lapsed into Latin, knowing that Fidelma was fluent in that. ‘Do you know enough of the tongue to follow?’ he asked his brother.

Egric chuckled. ‘I spent some time among the followers of the New Faith, but I also speak a dialect of the tongue of this country. I was converted to the Faith by teachers from this land, just as you were. Not only that, I spent some years among the Cruthin of the north as a missionary after Oswy defeated them in battle. There were many from Dál Riada who had settled among them and speaking a similar tongue, so I was able to extend my knowledge.’

‘You and Eadulf will have much to talk about.’ Fidelma reverted to her own language, deciding to test Egric’s knowledge. The thought had struck her that he must have had a sufficient command of the language to have communicated to Gormán and the others. ‘But first things first: what purpose brought you here?’

‘It is a long story but I shall make it short,’ replied Egric. ‘I don’t know whether Eadulf has told you of my past?’

Fidelma frowned for a moment and then decided that she could only speak the truth. ‘I am afraid that he has never mentioned his brother.’

Eadulf appeared uncomfortable for a moment. ‘It was because I thought him dead. As young men we were converted to the New Faith by Fursa and his brothers. They were missionaries from this land who came to preach in the Kingdom of the East Angles. Fursa inspired me to study at Tuam Brecain and so I left Seaxmund’s Ham. I had thought young Egric had gone to join Athelwold’s warriors at Rendel’s Ham. Egric was always dreaming about becoming a warrior. At the time, our land was threatened by Wulfhere of Mercia and an army was being raised. When I returned to Seaxmund’s Ham, no one had news of Egric. I never heard from him again until this moment. I truly thought he had perished in a battle.’

‘A boy may grow to maturity,’ shrugged Egric. ‘I decided to follow the Faith and not the army.’

‘But it is amazing to meet up after all these years – and to meet here, of all places in the world!’ Eadulf exclaimed.

‘Our paths never seemed to cross after you left Seaxmund’s Ham, brother. I found myself among a band of brethren at the court of Oswy at Streonshalh. It was there I heard your name spoken of in connection with the Great Debate that had been held there. But it was said that you had gone on to Rome.’

‘True enough,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘That was my second journey to Rome.’

‘Oswy had accepted the Rule of Rome, even though there were still some among his priests and bishops who favoured the ways of the missionaries of Aidan of Iona, who brought the Faith to Northumbria,’ explained Fidelma. ‘Eadulf and I made the journey to Rome together. So what abbey did you join when you were in Streonshalh?’

‘I did not,’ Egric replied. ‘Oswy wanted new missionaries to preach the Faith among the Cruthin over whose kingdom he ruled as lord. Thus I went to that land and spent some years preaching among them as well as learning their language.’ He paused and then went on: ‘Last year, before spring was on us, Oswy died. The Cruthin were then ruled by Drust, son of Donal, who had been a client king under Oswy. The Cruthin had long chafed under what they saw as rule by foreigners, and now they rose up in rebellion. I had to flee for my life. I managed to make my way back to Streonshalh.

‘Things were also changing in Oswy’s kingdom. There was a confusion of sub-kings of Deira and Northumbria, each vying for power. Wilfrid, who had led the pro-Roman faction at the Great Debate at Streonshalh, had obtained almost a king-like power. He began ensuring the removal of many of those who were of the old Columban Church, like Bishop Chad. Presumably he wanted them removed from any position where they might harm his Roman party. Even Oswy’s wife, Eanfleda, and her daughter had fled for safety into the abbey of the dead King’s relative, Hilda, who also still favours the teachings of Colmcille. Apparently, Wilfrid had full permission of Theodore of Canterbury to pursue these policies, and now Theodore had designated Wilfrid as Bishop of Northumbria.’

He paused to sip thoughtfully at his drink.

‘Anyway, Oswy’s Kingdom was not mine and so I was thinking of going south. I made my way to the town of the people of Kent. It was there I met an aging cleric from Rome, the Venerable Victricius of Palestrina. He told me that he had been given a mission from Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, to journey to this kingdom and contact some people here. The Venerable Victricius knew little of the tongue therefore asked me to accompany him as translator and companion.’

‘So it was Theodore who sent you hither?’ Eadulf was regarding him in surprise. ‘This is a curious tale, brother, for I myself was adviser to Theodore during my short time in Rome and accompanied him to the Kingdom of Kent. Then it was as his emissary that I came here – and here I have remained.’

‘Understand that I did not meet with Theodore, but all my dealings were with the Venerable Victricius,’ Egric said hurriedly.

‘Why did Theodore of Canterbury send this Venerable Victricius hither to this corner of the world?’ asked Eadulf. ‘Is it the same mission that brings Bishop Arwald of Magonsaete to this kingdom?’

Egric sat up, suddenly alert. ‘Is Bishop Arwald here?’

‘He is expected to arrive any day soon. So, there is some connection?’

Egric seemed to relax with a slight shrug. ‘Perhaps. Alas, Victricius never shared the objective of his mission with me; I was merely asked to act as companion and interpreter on his journey here.’

Fidelma and Eadulf glanced at one another in surprise.

‘He never gave a single hint of his purpose during the long journey here?’ demanded Fidelma. ‘Did he mention Bishop Arwald?’

Egric shook his head. ‘Bishop Arwald was known at Canterbury, but I have never met him.’

‘Then, by the holy rood, this is a curious tale,’ Eadulf declared in astonishment.

‘The Venerable Victricius did not explain anything,’ insisted Egric. ‘He had a box with him and was very careful of it. When we were attacked, the contents were destroyed or carried off by the raiders. I never found out what was in it.’

‘So never once, on the long journey between Canterbury and here, did your companion take you into his confidence about the purpose of your journey,’ clarified Fidelma.

‘That is the truth, lady. The Venerable Victricius was the type of person who keeps his own counsel. I know it is hard to believe that I could journey with him under those conditions, but I did so – and willingly. My allegiance was to Venerable Victricius; his was to Theodore of Canterbury; and Theodore’s allegiance was to Vitalian of Rome. It was as simple as that. I accepted that I would be told the purpose, when the time was right for me to be told.’

Fidelma bowed her head. Her voice was slightly cynical when she responded: ‘In such blind faith and obedience, you certainly differ from your brother. But now the Venerable Victricius is dead and his papers disappeared, how then will you be able to fulfil his purpose if you do not know it?’

‘I cannot,’ replied Egric simply. ‘All his papers seem lost.’

‘I suppose you will be told when Bishop Arwald arrives with his companions,’ Fidelma said.

‘His companions?’ There seemed uneasiness in the way Egric asked the question.

‘A Roman cleric named Verax.’

Egric sighed. ‘I do not know him.’

‘What about Brother Cerdic – do you know him?’ Fidelma asked suddenly.