The Council of the Cursed sf-19 Read online

  ‘We have finished here,’ she replied, with a smile to Brother Sigeric as she moved towards the door. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Brother. We shall not forget and will doubtless see you again soon.’

  Brother Sigeric smiled sadly in response.

  ‘Do you need to look at Ordgar’s chamber again?’ asked Brother Chilperic, ‘or should I give orders for it to be cleaned and tidied?’

  ‘I have done with it. However, you may indicate where we will find Abbot Cadfan.’

  ‘He will be found on the third level. You recall where I showed you the chamber of Bishop Ordgar? Good. Along that corridor to the right, you find a small corridor leading off it, and Abbot Cadfan will be found there.’

  ‘In that case we will speak with Bishop Ordgar first and Abbot Cadfan afterwards. We will not need your services in that for we can find our way.’

  Brother Chilperic seemed reluctant to be dismissed but Fidelma and Eadulf were already moving off. He shrugged and turned away.

  Chapter Five

  Bishop Ordgar did not stand as Fidelma and Eadulf entered his chamber, but remained seated, the scowl on his saturnine features giving the impression of an angry and forbidding personality. Behind him stood a young man with black curly hair who watched their entrance with pale blue eyes. He made a step forward as if to greet them, then halted and glanced nervously at the seated bishop before drawing his tongue across his lips as if to moisten them.

  ‘You are Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham?’ The young man directed his question at Eadulf. ‘You are the gerefa that Bishop Leodegar has told us of?’

  ‘I am he,’ Eadulf confirmed, replying in Saxon, for the question had been asked in that language albeit accented in the way of someone who spoke it as a foreign tongue. Then he switched to Latin. ‘This is Fidelma of Cashel, sister to King Colgú, King of Muman-an advocate of the courts of the five kingdoms of Éireann-my wife.’

  Eadulf knew that Fidelma did not like to announce herself in such a grandiose manner but, from what he had heard of Bishop Ordgar, he knew that they had to impress him from the outset. Eadulf had heard stories of the Saxon bishop’s arrogance and was aware that if it was not challenged from the start, it would be impossible to conduct any form of interrogation with him. Eadulf spoke with his eyes focused unswervingly on the gimlet gaze of the bishop.

  ‘I was told the woman’s name was Sister Fidelma,’ the bishop replied, still speaking in Saxon, his thin mouth twisting in a sneer.

  ‘The Faith encompasses people of many backgrounds,’ Eadulf responded evenly, ‘but, of course, you are right. We are all equals in serving the Faith, bishops or abbots. And “the woman” is my wife.’

  Again he chose his words carefully and with emphasis to bring Bishop Ordgar away from any mistaken sense of importance.

  Eadulf then turned to the young man who had greeted him. ‘And who are you?’

  ‘I am Brother Benevolentia, steward to my lord, Bishop Ordgar.’

  ‘But you are not a Saxon?’

  ‘That is true, Brother. I am a Burgund.’

  Fidelma had struggled to follow the conversation; although she had a rudimentary knowledge of Saxon, she was uncomfortable in that language when it came to nuances and complicated subjects.

  ‘May we speak in Latin?’ she asked, speaking for the first time.

  Both Bishop Ordgar and Brother Benevolentia looked surprised and the bishop shrugged. Fidelma took it as an affirmative.

  ‘Good, since we need to seek answers to some questions.’

  ‘I was told it was Brother Eadulf who was to represent me,’ Bishop Ordgar said. ‘You know that I have a position of some importance? I represent Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury. As soon as this council is ended, I am to continue my journey to Rome to consult with His Holiness Vitalian.’

  ‘Then you have not been accurately informed of my role,’ Eadulf said.

  ‘But we are told that you are of the kingdom of the East Angles and a gerefa,’ intervened Brother Benevolentia. ‘My lord, Bishop Ordgar, has naturally presumed that you would want to support one of your own kin in this matter.’

  Eadulf nearly smiled at the arrogance of the presumption.

  ‘Sister Fidelma and I have been asked by Bishop Leodegar to investigate the matter of the death of Abbot Dabhóc and report to him. That is all. There is no question of representing the interests of anyone except the interests of the dead abbot in the discovery of who killed him.’

  Bishop Ordgar did not look happy.

  ‘Then let us hope you have not forgotten your duty to your own people,’ he snapped. ‘I understand that you have been many years among the people of that western island. I trust you know where loyalty and duty lie.’

  ‘My duty to my own people is a duty to truth-where ever that truth might be,’ Eadulf snapped back. ‘And until we obtain some answers from you, Ordgar of Kent, the truth will not be known.’

  ‘You forget to whom you speak, Brother.’ Brother Benevolentia sounded aghast at Eadulf’s tone.

  ‘I am well aware that I speak to a witness to a murder. Our purpose here is that we require answers to questions,’ replied Eadulf, unperturbed. ‘Can we now proceed to obtain them? And let us return to speaking in Latin!’

  In the angry exchange they had lapsed into Saxon.

  Bishop Ordgar opened his mouth to respond but suddenly checked himself. He breathed out slowly and composed his thin autocratic features.

  ‘Ask your questions then, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham,’ he commanded.

  Eadulf glanced at Fidelma, who nodded with amused approval to indicate that the bishop might respond better if Eadulf, not she, continued to put the questions.

  ‘Describe what happened on the night that Abbot Dabhóc was found in your chamber.’

  Bishop Ordgar was dismissive. ‘Since I was drugged, I cannot say.’

  ‘Tell us, then, what exactly you remember of that night. You remember going to your chamber, I suppose?’ Eadulf could not help the sarcasm in his voice.

  ‘Of course. After evening prayers in the chapel, I went to see Bishop Leodegar to register a complaint about the behaviour of Cadfan who had been discourteous to me earlier. Then I returned to my chamber. I composed myself for sleep having taken, as was my custom, wine. I came awake feeling ill, with an oppressive headache and unsure of my surroundings. I think I remember someone shaking me and raised voices all round. I become unconscious again, and when I awoke for the second time I was in this chamber with the physician tending me. The headache and nausea lasted for some time. It was only after I recovered that I was told that Abbot Dabhóc had been discovered dead in my chamber, with Abbot Cadfan nearby on the floor. When I was found, I was told that I had been regaining some degree of consciousness on the bed but I cannot be sure. That is all.’

  ‘It gives rise to several questions,’ Eadulf asserted.

  Bishop Ordgar sat back with eyes narrowed. ‘Then ask them,’ he said.

  ‘Let us start with the wine. You imply it was drugged?’

  ‘I state it was drugged,’ the man corrected. ‘Nothing but drugged wine would have such an effect on me.’

  ‘Where did this wine come from?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Bishop Ordgar seemed confused. ‘Do you mean what vineyard supplied it?’

  ‘Who gave you this wine?’

  Brother Benevolentia coughed nervously and stepped forward to say, ‘It was I who placed the wine by the bed of the bishop. I do so every night, since it is his custom to take a drink before retiring. It helps to induce sleep and…and…’

  Eadulf saw a look of annoyance form on the bishop’s features as if he felt the steward was revealing flaws in his nature that he would best like to keep hidden.

  ‘And this wine was bought from where?’ pressed Eadulf.

  ‘I purchased a small amphora in the local market.’

  ‘And where was this amphora kept?’

  ‘In the chamber of the bishop. It was a small amphora of red wi
ne so there was no need to take it to the cooler cellars.’

  ‘So wine had already been drunk from it before? It was not newly bought wine?’

  ‘The bishop had been served from the same amphora during the preceding three or four days.’

  ‘And, that night, you poured the cup with your own hand,’ Eadulf went on.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Where is the amphora now?’

  ‘It was thrown away as it had been emptied that night.’

  ‘I suppose the cup was also thrown away?’ Eadulf remarked dryly.

  ‘It was washed and cleaned the next day,’ replied Brother Benevolentia complacently.

  ‘So we have only Ordgar’s word that the wine was drugged.’

  ‘Since when is my word to be doubted?’ Ordgar demanded in a threatening tone.

  Eadulf was unabashed. ‘It is not a question of doubt but a question of confirmation. Tell me, if you are used to drinking wine, how did that wine taste that night?’

  ‘Taste?’ Brother Ordgar frowned. ‘How do you mean-taste?’

  ‘Was there anything unusual about it?’

  ‘No.’ Then he suddenly paused. ‘Except…’

  ‘Yes?’ Eadulf prompted hopefully.

  ‘I thought there was a sweeter taste than usual to it. But it was not disagreeable,’ the bishop admitted.

  ‘Very well. Now, Brother Benevolentia, at what stage in the evening did you pour the wine?’

  ‘The bell rang in the chapel at the end of prayers. Thinking that the bishop would return straightway, I hurried to his chamber and poured the wine.’

  ‘Except that I did not return straightway,’ pointed out Ordgar. ‘I went to see Bishop Leodegar to complain about the conduct of the Briton at the council.’

  ‘Did you wait in the bishop’s chamber until he returned?’ Eadulf asked Brother Benevolentia.

  The young man shook his head. ‘I left the wine by the bedside as usual and then returned to my own chamber, where I fell asleep immediately.’

  ‘And your own chamber is where?’

  ‘Next to the bishop’s, so that he could call me in the night if I am needed.’

  ‘Was the door of the bishop’s chamber locked?’

  ‘Locked? No door is locked in the abbey.’

  ‘Then anyone could enter the room and have access to the wine at any time?’

  ‘Yes. The empty amphora was stored in a cupboard out of sight but after I had poured the wine, the cup was left at the bishop’s bedside.’

  ‘And you were asleep very quickly? You said that you did not hear the bishop return to his chamber.’

  ‘I did not.’

  ‘Did you hear the arrival of Abbot Dabhóc or Abbot Cadfan during the night?’

  Brother Benevolentia made a negative gesture. ‘As I say, I am a sound sleeper.’

  ‘When did you wake?’

  ‘Not until the physician of this abbey, Brother Gebicca, knocked upon my door and told me the bishop had been taken ill; he said he needed my help to remove him to a new chamber where he could be nursed. It was when I entered the room that I saw the body of the Hibernian and the blood and also the unconscious form of the Briton.’

  ‘And the next morning, was it you who cleared away the remains of the wine and washed the cup?’

  Brother Benevolentia shook his head. ‘I think it was Brother Gebicca. He cleared up when the body was taken away.’

  ‘How long have you been steward to Bishop Ordgar?’ Eadulf asked suddenly.

  It was the bishop himself who answered.

  ‘My last steward died from fever on the voyage. It was while I was visiting the abbey of Divio, on my way here, that I met with Brother Benevolentia and offered him the post.’

  ‘Divio?’

  ‘It is a city of the Burgunds which lies north of here,’ supplied Brother Benevolentia. ‘I served in that abbey there as a scribe so have been with Bishop Ordgar for only three weeks.’

  Fidelma had stood silently listening in approval to Eadulf’s questioning. Now she felt compelled to ask the bishop a question of her own.

  ‘How well did you know Abbot Dabhóc?’

  ‘I knew him not at all. We met formally before the council opened but barely exchanged a few words.’

  ‘You did not express a difference of opinion in debate?’

  ‘There have been no debates.’

  ‘I was told there was an opening session at which acrimonious remarks were passed.’

  ‘It was not a debate but an assembly where delegates could meet before the start of the working sessions. My quarrel was with Cadfan the Briton,’ asserted the bishop.

  ‘So you have no idea why Abbot Dabhóc would call at your chamber in the middle of the night?’

  ‘None whatsoever, unless he was inveigled there by the Welisc who killed him, to lay the blame on me. That is my belief.’

  ‘You dislike Abbot Cadfan very much, I hear?’

  ‘They are all the same, these Welisc. They are enemies of my blood. Whining and ungrateful.’

  ‘Isn’t that understandable?’ asked Fidelma.

  Bishop Ordgar jerked his head towards her and his eyes narrowed angrily.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It is not so many years ago that your people crossed the seas and began to drive out the Britons, whom you call “foreigners”-Welisc in your language-from their lands and began to settle on the farms and the villages from which they had been dispossessed. Even now you continue to drive them westward. Do you expect gratitude and kindness from them?’

  Bishop Ordgar’s lip curled arrogantly. ‘God showed us the way to the island of the Britons and gave it to us to inhabit.’

  ‘But it was inhabited already.’

  ‘Inhabited only by sheep. God would not have made the Welisc sheep if He did not expect them to be shorn.’

  ‘They have not been shorn so easily,’ Fidelma observed. ‘They still fight for the possession of their lands.’ It was clear that she had no liking for the bishop. ‘If it was God Who showed your people the way, Ordgar of Kent,’ she continued, ‘then He came in a strange disguise. At the time, it was Woden, Tyr, Thurnor and Freya whom you worshipped. You see, I know of your gods, for many of your people worship them still. A generation or two ago, none of the Angles and Saxons knew or cared of the Christ until the missionaries from my people raised you from your idols. Do not blame God nor Christ as the reason why you continue to persecute and dispossess the Christian Britons.’

  Brother Ordgar swallowed hard. He was trying to think of some suitable retort when Fidelma turned to Eadulf. Out of courtesy she continued to speak in Latin.

  ‘We need not trouble Bishop Ordgar nor Brother Benevolentia further…at this time.’

  Eadulf was confused. His mind was actually turning over the truth of what Fidelma had said because he himself had worshipped Woden into his teenage years before a wandering missionary from the land of Hibernia converted him to the New Faith. He realised Fidelma was turning for the door and glanced quickly back.

  ‘We have finished for the moment,’ he said hastily.

  ‘Wait!’ Bishop Ordgar called, as Eadulf was about to follow Fidelma. ‘I need to be cleared of these foul accusations at once. When am I to be allowed to resume my seat at the council?’

  It was Fidelma, in the doorway, who turned back to him.

  ‘When we have finished our enquiry, Bishop Ordgar of Kent,’ she replied curtly. ‘You will be informed when that is, have no fear.’

  Eadulf followed her as she paced rapidly down the corridor. They found themselves in a tiny hallway at the end where there was a large window. It overlooked a small courtyard with a little flower garden and splashing fountain. There she paused, leaning on the windowledge and slowly breathing in the fresh air.

  ‘I am sorry, Eadulf,’ she said, feeling him standing behind her and knowing he would be looking at her with a reproachful gaze. ‘Something about that man and his arrogance causes my ire to rise. I should not have
spoken so harshly about your people and their history.’

  ‘I am not oblivious to their faults,’ acknowledged Eadulf. ‘There are no people on the face of this earth who are possessed of all the virtues. Our storytellers say that our forefathers were being driven from their own lands by hostile tribes, and that is why they crossed the sea to Britain and fought the natives for the right to settle there.’

  ‘Good for your people, but hard for the Britons who were dispossessed.’

  Eadulf sought to change the subject. ‘So you think Bishop Ordgar might be guilty of this crime?’

  ‘It is certainly a weak story that he has to tell. But in its very weakness the truth might lie. Overall, it is too curious a story to be made up.’

  ‘What of the young man, Brother Benevolentia?’

  ‘He seems in awe of Bishop Ordgar and will do what his master tells him.’ Fidelma straightened up from the windowledge and saw that Eadulf was looking gloomy. ‘It is early days yet,’ she smiled.

  Brother Chilperic’s directions were easy to follow.

  When they entered Abbot Cadfan’s chamber, in response to his invitation, the Briton came forward with an outstretched hand and clasped first that of Fidelma and then that of Eadulf. He was short, with dark hair, and his black eyes seemed devoid of pupils, for the colours appeared to merge together, making one large orb in each socket.

  ‘I know of you, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he said animatedly. ‘I was at the court of Gwlyddien of Dyfed when you and Brother Eadulf came there and solved the mystery of what happened at Pen Caer. I am glad that you are here. If there is any who can solve this matter, then it is you.’

  ‘Pen Caer was some time ago.’ Fidelma gave a deprecating smile. ‘I only hope that we can fulfil your expectations.’

  ‘What happened in the kingdom of Dyfed has often been told at the feasting fires even in the northern kingdom of Gwynedd. But come, be seated, let me offer you refreshment.’

  It was certainly a better reception than that given them by Bishop Ordgar. The pair seated themselves and accepted his wine. It was white, cool and refreshing.

  ‘Now,’ the Briton began in businesslike fashion, ‘I know that I am accused by Ordgar of killing poor Abbot Dabhóc. So please ask your questions and I will tell you what I know as facts.’