Sister Lerben was in the chapel polishing the great ornate gold cross which stood on the altar. She was bent industriously to her task, a frown of concentration on her pretty features. It was the thud of the door closing behind Fidelma which made her glance up. She paused and straightened as Fidelma walked up the aisle between the deserted rows of benches to halt before her. Her expression was not one of welcome. Fidelma could see the glow of belligerent dislike in her eyes.
‘Well?’
Lerben spoke in her clear, ice-cold soprano voice. Fidelma felt sorrow for her instead of anger. She appeared like a little girl, petulant and angry, in need of protection. A little girl, resenting that she had been caught by an adult doing something forbidden. Her mask of arrogance had given place to sullen pugnacity.
‘There are a few questions that I need to ask,’ Fidelma answered her pleasantly.
The girl methodically replaced the cross on its stand and carefully folded the strip of linen with which she was polishing it. Fidelma had already noticed that the girl’s actions were precise and unhurriedly deliberate. She finally turned to face Fidelma, her arms folded into her robe. Her eyes focused on a point just behind Fidelma’s shoulder.
Fidelma wearily indicated one of the benches.
‘Let us sit a while and talk, Sister Lerben.’
‘Is this an official talk?’ Lerben demanded.
Fidelma was indifferent.
‘Official? If you mean, do I wish to speak with you in my capacity as a
Sister Lerben reluctantly appeared to accept the situation and seated herself. She kept her eyes away from Fidelma’s examining gaze.
‘You may be assured that anything you say will not be reported to your abbess,’ Fidelma said, trying to put the girl at her ease and wondering how best to approach the subject. She seated herself next to the girl who remained silent. ‘Let us forget the conflict that arose between us, Lerben. I was also proud when I was your age. I, too, thought I knew many things. But you were misinformed about ecclesiastical law. I am, after all, an advocate of the courts and when you attempt to pit your knowledge against mine, it can only result in my knowledge being greater. I do not make this as a boast but simply a statement of fact.’
The girl still made no reply.
‘I know you were advised by Abbess Draigen,’ Fidelma continued to verbally prod her.
‘Abbess Draigen has great knowledge,’ snapped Lerben. ‘Why should I doubt her?’
‘You admire Abbess Draigen. I understand that. But her knowledge of the law is lacking.’
‘She stands up for our rights. The rights of women,’ countered Sister Lerben.
‘Is there a need to stand up for the rights of women? Surely the laws of the five kingdoms are precise enough for the protection of women? Women are protected from rape, from sexual harassment and even from verbal assault. And they are equal under the law.’
‘Sometimes that is not enough,’ replied the girl seriously. ‘Abbess Draigen sees the weaknesses in our society and campaigns for greater rights.’
‘That I do not understand. Perhaps you might be goodenough to explain it. You see, if the abbess wants increased rights for women, why does she argue that the Laws of the Fenechas should be rejected and that we should accept the new ecclesiastical laws? Why does she stand in favour of the Penitentials which originate in their philosophies from Roman law? These laws place women in a subservient role.’
Sister Lerben was eager to explain.
‘The canon laws, which Draigen wishes to support, would make it a more serious offence to kill a woman than a man. A life for a life. At the moment all the laws of the five kingdoms say is that compensation must be paid and the killer must be rehabilitated. The laws which the Roman church suggest is that the attacker should pay with his life and be made to suffer physical pain. The abbess has shown me some of the Penitentials which say that if a man kills a woman then his hand and foot should be cut off and he is made to suffer pain before being put to death.’
Fidelma stared in distaste at the bloodthirsty eagerness of the young girl.
‘And a woman can be burned to death for the same offence,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘Isn’t it better to seek compensation for the victim than exact vengeance on the perpetrator? Isn’t it better to attempt to rehabilitate the wrong doer and help the victim than exact painful revenge that gains nothing but a brief moment of satisfaction?’
Sister Lerben shook her head. Her tone was vehement.
‘Draigen says that it is written in the scripture: “life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot …”’
‘The words of Exodus are often quoted,’ interrupted Fidelma tiredly. ‘Surely it would be better looking at the words of the Christ who gave a new dispensation. Look at the Gospel of the Blessed Matthew and you will find these words of the Christ: “Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil; but, whosoever shall smite thee on thy rightcheek, turn to him the other also.” That is the word of the God we follow.’
‘But Abbess Draigen said …’
Fidelma held up her hand to quiet the girl.
‘No set of laws are perfect but there is little use rejecting good laws for bad ones. Here women have rights and protections. There is equality before the law. The foreign laws that are creeping into this land by way of the Penitentials mean that only the wealthy and people of rank can afford the law.’
‘But Abbess Draigen …’
‘Is not an expert on law,’ interrupted Fidelma firmly. She really did not want to get waylaid into a debate on the merits of rival law systems, especially with a young girl who really did not know more than she had been told by a biased authority. She knew clearly where Draigen stood in support of the new Penitentials which, in Fidelma’s estimation, were threatening to undermine the laws of the five kingdoms.
Sister Lerben lapsed into a sullen silence.
‘I know that you admire the abbess,’ Fidelma began again. ‘That is a right and proper attitude to adopt towards one’s mother.’
‘So you know that?’ Sister Lerben’s chin came up defensively.
‘Surely an abbey is not a place wherein to keep a secret?’ Fidelma asked mildly. ‘Besides, there is no law in either the church of Ireland or Rome that forbids love and marriage between men and women of the religious.’ She could not help adding, ‘But those who support the new ecclesiastical rules would deny that love.’
Fidelma knew that in Europe, during the last two centuries, there had been a small but vociferous group who had expressed doubts on the compatibility of marriage and the religious life. Jerome and Ambrose had led those who thought that celibacy was a higher spiritual condition than marriage and Jerome’s friend Pope Damascus had been thefirst to express a favourable attitude towards the idea. So far, even in Rome, however, those favouring celibacy were still only a small but nonetheless influential group. Those who believed that celibacy should be mandatory and were therefore affecting the writing of Penitentials. Though, so far, they had not the backing of Rome’s ecclesiastical laws.
Sister Lerben sat without expression.
‘How long have you been in this community, Lerben? I presume that it has been since your birth?’
‘No. When I was seven I was sent for fosterage.’
It was an ancient custom in the five kingdoms among those of wealth to send their children away at the age of seven to be fostered or educated, with a teacher. For boys the fosterage ended at the age of seventeen, for girls the fosterage ended at the age of fourteen.
‘And you returned here when you were fourteen?’ asked Fidelma.
‘Three years ago,’ agreed the girl.
‘You had no thought of going elsewhere than to your mother’s abbey?’
‘No, why should I? Since I had been away many things had changed here. My mother had excluded all men.’
‘Do you dislike men so much?’ asked Fidelma in surprise.
