Death of a Heretic
Contents
Cover
Also by Peter Tremayne
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Principal Characters
Map
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
L’envoi
Also by Peter Tremayne
The Sister Fidelma mysteries
WHISPERS OF THE DEAD
THE LEPER’S BELL
MASTER OF SOULS
A PRAYER FOR THE DAMNED
DANCING WITH DEMONS
THE COUNCIL OF THE CURSED
THE DOVE OF DEATH
THE CHALICE OF BLOOD
BEHOLD A PALE HORSE
THE SEVENTH TRUMPET
ATONEMENT OF BLOOD
THE DEVIL’S SEAL
THE SECOND DEATH
PENANCE OF THE DAMNED
NIGHT OF THE LIGHTBRINGER *
BLOODMOON *
BLOOD IN EDEN *
THE SHAPESHIFTER’S LAIR *
THE HOUSE OF DEATH *
* available from Severn House
DEATH OF A HERETIC
Peter Tremayne
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First US edition published in the USA in 2022
by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,
14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.
Trade paperback edition first published in Great Britain and the USA in 2022
by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.
This eBook edition first published in 2022 by Severn House,
an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.
severnhouse.com
Copyright © Peter Tremayne, 2022
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Peter Tremayne to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8966-9 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-0777-7 (trade paper)
ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-0776-0 (e-book)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
This eBook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
For Caroline Lennon,
‘The Voice of Fidelma’;
reader of the English language audiobooks,
making Fidelma come alive on the airwaves;
in appreciation of a talented actress and friend.
Fuerunt vero et pseudoprophetae in populo sicut et in vobis erunt magistri mendaces qui introducent sectas perditionis et eum qui emit eos Dominum negant superducentes sibi celerem perditionem.
But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction.
2 Peter 2:1
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
Sister Fidelma of Cashel, a dálaigh or advocate of the law courts of 7th-century Ireland
Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, in the land of the South Folk of the East Angles, her companion
Enda, commander of the Warriors of the Golden Collar, the élite bodyguard to the King of Muman
At Ara’s Well
Aona, the innkeeper
Adag, his grandson
At the Abbey of Imleach Iubhair
Abbot Cuán, Abbot and Chief Bishop of Muman
Brother Mac Raith, the rechtaire or steward
Prioress Suanach, head of the sisterhood
The Venerable Breas, the fer-leginn or chief professor
The Venerable Lugán, the leabhar coimedach or librarian and master of all students
Brother Anlón, the physician
Brother Áedh, in charge of abbey firefighters
Brother Sígeal, the echaire, master of the stables
The builders
Sítae, Ollamh-Ailtire, the master builder
Cú Choille, a missing master carpenter
Patu, a senior carpenter
Mothlach, a stone mason
Tassach, a coppersmith
The students
Brother Garb, a senior student
Brother Étaid, his anam chara or soul friend
Sister Fastrude, a Burgundian student
Sister Ingund, a Burgundian student
Sister Haldetrude, a Burgundian student
The Frankish visitors
Deacon Landric, the steward to Bishop Brodulf of Luxovium in Burgundia
Brother Charibert, servant to Bishop Brodulf
The Chief Brehon’s group
Fíthel, Chief Brehon of Muman
Urard, his secretary and scribe
Aidan, warrior of the King, accompanying the Chief Brehon
Luan, a fellow warrior
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This story takes place during the month called, in Old Irish, Cét Samain – ‘the beginning of summer’. This approximates with the month we now call May. The year is AD 672.
Some readers may realise that we have already visited the Abbey of Imleach Iubhair – ‘borderland of yew trees’ (The Monk Who Vanished, 1999). Today, Emly, as it is now anglicised, is just a small village fourteen kilometres west of the county town of Tipperary (The Well of Ara). Founded in the fifth century by the pre-Patrician St Ailbe, Imleach Iubhair was once the premier teaching abbey of the kingdom of Muman (Munster) and the seat of its Chief Bishop, but there is little to show of that now. It remained a ‘Cathedral City’ until 1587. It was the principal ecclesiastical See of Munster until it was officially combined with the See of Cashel.
The early abbey buildings were replaced by a thirteenth-century cathedral, which was destroyed during the conquest of 1607. By the end of that century it was reconsecrated as an Anglican cathedral, which, by 1827, had fallen into disrepair, when it was rebuilt. The modern Catholic church was built in 1882. The lake that fronted the old abbey has long vanished. There are still remains of five ancient holy well sites, including Tobair Peadar (Peter’s Well). This became dangerous and was blocked up. It wa
s from here an underground passage was reported to lead from the well head to the hill of Knockcarn, regarded as the abbey’s ancient burial ground.
Imleach was a mixed house, a conhospitae, inhabited by male and female religious. It was governed by a comarbae (the ‘heir’ of Ailbe) but the title of abbot, originally from the Aramaic word abbas (father), was becoming a popular title for the head of such communities. For women, to the Aramaic word was added the Latin suffix -issa to make abatissa or abbess. I have used the title ‘prioress’ (prioressa), also borrowed into Old/Middle Irish, for the role of one in charge of the female religious in a conhospitae, or governor of their own religious house.
Some readers might be surprised that, even by Fidelma’s time, Christianity was not a united religion but consisted of many divergent theological ideas, each with its supporters. Heated debates were numerous in various councils as to what concepts and teachings should be accepted and followed. The Edict of Milan in AD 313 had Rome recognise Western Christianity as a legitimate religion. Ten years later it was accepted as the official religion of the Roman Empire. Emperor Constantine (AD 285–337) realised that the Christian movement was fragmented with a diversity of interpretations. Leaders met in Nicaea in AD 325 to agree on fundamentals, and these became the basis of the Nicene Creed. But this did not unite all Christians.
Councils continued to argue. The Roman historian and former soldier Ammianus Marcellinus (c. AD 330–391/400) observed the often violent and dogmatic conflicts and commented: ‘No wild beasts are so cruel as the Christians in their dealings with one another.’
The Council of Rome of AD 382, under Pope Damascus, accepted the choice of the twenty-seven texts chosen by Athanasius, Patriarch of Alexandria, which would constitute the New Testament. This led to arguments and the attempted destruction of many very early Christian writings not accepted by Rome.
The Gospel of Philip, mentioned in this story, is one of the Coptic texts, dated to the second/third centuries AD. It was discovered in a sealed jar, along with other early Christian writings, in Nag Hammadi, in Egypt, in 1945. The 1,200 Nag Hammadi texts are now in the Coptic Museum in Cairo, Egypt. They were buried in the fourth century to save them from destruction after the Council of Rome decision on what were acceptable to comprise the New Testament. The Gospel of Philip was named after the Apostle Philippos of Bethsaida (died AD 80 in Hieropolis), one of the original Twelve Apostles.
Numerous councils, in several parts of the Roman Empire as well as outside the empire, continued to evolve their own interpretations. By Fidelma’s time six major Ecumenical Councils had been held in an attempt to standardise the religion. The third council held in Constantinople (AD 680) was still debating the human and divine aspects of the Jesus Christ. By this time there had been over thirty different interpretations of Western Christianity. Some ideas were accepted while others were abandoned or condemned as heresies.
Pelagius (active c. AD 380–418), was declared a heretic, but his teachings survived long among the Irish and other Celtic peoples of these Western lands. Ioannis, as Pope-Elect John IV, wrote a letter to the Irish bishops in AD 640, telling them to stop following Pelagius’ teachings. Pelagius’ works continued to be read and debated into modern times. For those readers fascinated by the writings and philosophies of Pelagius, I recommend Pelagius: Life and Letters, D. R. Rees, 1988.
The Banshenchus (The History of Women), which must surely take its place as the earliest European feminist history, survived in verse and prose form in the monastery of Daimh Inis – ‘Island of Ox’ (Devenish, Lough Erne, County Fermanagh). The abbey was founded by St Laisrén mac Nad Froich (died AD 564), popularly known as Mo Laisse. This text lists prominent women from the fifth and sixth centuries and entries continue to AD 1193. Among them is the daughter of King Failbe Flann, mentioned by her religious title.
In the following story, there are some references to previous Fidelma adventures, which it might be of help to mention. Fidelma’s attendance at the Council of Streonshalh (Whitby) in AD 664, where she first met Eadulf, is related in Absolution by Murder (1994). This is when King Oswy of Northumbria decided his kingdom would follow Roman rites and not those of the insular churches and teachings from Ireland. Fidelma and Eadulf’s attendance at the Council of Autun, in Burgundia, in AD 670, is related in The Council of the Cursed (2008). At this council it was decided that all religious houses in the Frankish kingdom and neighbouring Gaul should follow the Rule of Benedict rather than the various rules of the Western (Celtic) churches. Fidelma’s adventure in AD 664/5 in visiting the Abbey of Bobbio (Bobbium), founded by Columbán and his Irish disciples in northern Italy, is related in Behold a Pale Horse (2011). The adventure in which Fidelma travels to Eadulf’s home of Seaxmund’s Ham, in the land of the South Folk, in the kingdom of the East Angles, is told in The Haunted Abbot (2002).
The incident in the Abbey of Darú (Darrow), to which Fidelma makes reference, is ‘A Canticle for Wulfstan’, first published in Midwinter Tales 4, Little, Brown, UK, October 1994, and in the USA in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, May 1995. It was collected in the Fidelma short story volume Hemlock at Vespers, 1999.
Those toponymists among readers might be interested in knowing the modern equivalents of places mentioned in the kingdom of the Franks. Bituriga (Bourges); river Dea Matrona (the Marne); Evoriacum (Faremoutiers); Latiniacum (Lagny-sur-Marne); river Liger (Loire); Luxovium (Luxeuil-les-Bains); Martyr Nazarius (Saint-Nazaire) and Nevirnum (Nevers).
ONE
‘There was a big fire at the abbey last night, lady.’
The news was broken in a cheerful tone by Adag, the seventeen-year-old grandson of the innkeeper, as he was placing a jug of ale on the table at which Fidelma and Eadulf were seated. Although the inn stood at the Well of Ara, some fifteen kilometres from the Abbey of Imleach Iubhair, ‘borderland of the yews’, local people still referred to it as ‘the abbey’ because its influence dominated the area. The abbey was one of the oldest in the kingdom and it was acknowledged that its founder, the Blessed Ailbe, had been one of the first to bring the New Faith to Muman, the largest and most south-westerly of the Five Kingdoms of Éireann. It had become the premier teaching abbey of the kingdom, in which the abbots were also the chief bishops to the kings who dwelt at Cashel, where Fidelma’s brother, Colgú, now ruled.
Fidelma glanced with interest at the youth.
‘A big fire?’ she asked. ‘What happened? I heard that there is a lot of new building works going on there. Aren’t they replacing many of the ancient wooden buildings by stone constructions?’
Adag shrugged. ‘My grandfather will tell you all about it when he comes in. I gather you did not come here by the highway that passes the abbey gates, otherwise you would surely have seen something of the fire.’
‘Eadulf and I rode from Dún Trí Liag, so we came across the mountains from the south-west.’
The youth went to the nearby fire to adjust one of the blazing logs that was threatening to fall.
‘Why would you be visiting there?’ the boy demanded over his shoulder. ‘It is the fortress of Congal of the Dál gCais, who claims to be of royal lineage and does not let anyone forget it. He is not a nice person. He expects us to serve him and his kinsmen without charge and he treats my grandfather with utmost arrogance.’
Fidelma admonished him with mock disapproval. But she had known the boy since his birth and also knew that he spoke the truth. ‘Don’t voice your opinion too loudly and to too many people, Adag,’ she warned. ‘Congal is also a person who does not hesitate to use his power and the law to seek retribution if he feels slighted.’
In fact, the reason Fidelma and Eadulf, together with Enda, the commander of the élite Warriors of the Golden Collar, had visited Dún Trí Liag was because of a legal argument Congal had just had with one of his own clansmen. He had accused the man of stealing a bull from his herd. The man denied this but his innocence continued to be dismissed. The clansman decided to assert his rights under the ancient law
and sat troscud before the gates of Congal’s fortress, refusing food and drink, to force the noble to agree to place the matter to arbitration. Fidelma, as a dálaigh, was qualified to judge such cases, and so was sent to hear the arguments. It was a fact that, before the hearing, the bull had been found wandering in the nearby hills, having broken loose from its field. Congal reluctantly conceded his accusation was without merit and, with even more reluctance, agreed to compensate the clansman for his false accusation with a heifer from his herd.
If the truth were known, Fidelma felt more relaxed now that she and her companions were away from Congal’s fortress. He was reputed to be a man of short temper, who held grudges. In Fidelma’s estimation, where Congal was concerned, ‘trust’ was not a word that came readily to mind.
The inn door opened with a sudden blast of cold air. Aona, the elderly innkeeper, entered followed by the young warrior, Enda, who pushed the door shut behind them. Enda had been helping Aona water and feed the horses in the inn’s stable.
‘What’s this I hear about a fire at the abbey?’ Fidelma asked the innkeeper as he came to check that his grandson had brought them all they required.
‘Ah, so young Adag has told you? I was just telling Enda about it.’
Enda lowered himself on a bench by the table and reached for the jug of ale to pour himself a drink. There was no false etiquette between these comrades who had shared so many adventures together.
‘I wasn’t surprised at Aona’s news,’ he commented. ‘There has been a lot of rebuilding at the abbey in recent times. Being built in the middle of a forest of yew trees, the oldest buildings are of wood. Recent abbots have encouraged the replacing of the wooden buildings by local stone. Fires do often happen when such work is happening.’
Fidelma turned to the innkeeper. ‘What do you know of the origins of the fire? What caught alight?’
Aona shrugged. ‘I only heard a few details from a passing traveller this morning,’ he replied. ‘Apparently it was not a big fire but confined to one of the old wooden buildings that they say was designated as the tech n-óiged.’