Hemlock at Vespers

She turned and sought out the young guard.

“Bring two stools and place them…” she turned and sought out an isolated corner of the ecclesia, “place them over there. Then go and stand by the door and prevent anyone entering or leaving until I call for you.”

The young warrior looked outraged and glanced toward the Abbot. Abbot Miseno merely gestured with a quick motion of his hand for the young man to comply.

“I will speak with you first, deacon,” Fidelma said, turning toward the spot where the guard had placed the chairs.

Once seated Fidelma examined the deacon. He was not more than twenty years old. A youth with dark hair and a rather ugly face, the eyes seeming too close together and the brows heavy. His heavy jowl was blue with badly shaved stubble.

“What is your name?”

“I am Tullius.”

“How long have you served here?”

“Six months.”

“As deacon, it would be your job to prepare the wine and bread for the blessing. Is this so?”

“Yes.”

“And did you do so today?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about the wine.”

The deacon seemed disconcerted.

“In what way?”

“Tell me about the wine in the chalice. Where did it come from, how was it poured and was it left unguarded at any time?”

“The wine is bought locally. We keep several amphorae below the ecclesia, in the vaults, where it is stored. This morning I went down into the vaults and filled a jug. Then, when I observed the numbers attending the service, I poured the wine into the chalice for the blessing. This is the usual custom. The same procedure is made for the bread. Once the wine and bread are blessed and the transubstantiation occurs then no piece of the Host nor of the blood of Christ must be discarded. It must all be consumed.”

Among the Irish churches, the taking of the bread and wine was regarded merely as a symbolic gesture in remembrance of the Christ. Rome, however, had started to maintain that the blessing actually changed the substances into the literal flesh and blood of Christ. Fidelma’s skeptical smile was not derogatory to the new doctrine but a reflection as to how the poisoned wine could possibly be regarded as the physical blood of the Savior. And who, she wondered, would now volunteer to consume it?

“So, Tullius, you poured the wine from the jug into the chalice once you had ascertained how many people were attending the service?”

“That is so.”

“Where is this jug?”

“In the sacristy.”

“Take me there and show me.”

The young deacon rose and led the way to a door behind the altar. This was an apartment of the ecclesia where the sacred utensils and vestments of the priest were kept.

Fidelma peered around the small room. It was no larger than six feet wide and twelve feet in length. A second doorway, leading to a flight of stone steps descending into the gloom of the vaults, stood almost behind the door which gave ingress into the ecclesia itself. At the far end of the sacristy stood a third door, with a small diamond-shaped window in its center, which, she could see, led to the outside of the building. Clothes were hung on pegs and there were icons and some books on shelves. There was also a bench with some loaves of bread and a wine jug on it. Fidelma bent over the jug and sniffed. There was no bitter odor. Cautiously, she reached down into the jug with her forefinger and dipped it in the wine. Withdrawing it, she sniffed again and then placed it between her lips. There was no bitter taste. Clearly, then, the wine had been poisoned only after it had been poured into the chalice.

“Tell me, Tullius, the chalice, which was used today, is it the same chalice that is used at every service?”

The deacon nodded.

“And the chalice was standing here, in the sacristy, when you brought up the jug of wine from the vaults?”

“Yes. I had purchased the bread on my way to the ecclesia, as I usually do. I came in here and placed the loaves ready to cut into small pieces. Then I went down to the vault and poured the jug of wine and brought it up here. I placed it by the chalice. Then Abbot Miseno entered and, as I recall, passed directly through the sacristy to join the congregation. When I judged it was a small attendance, I poured the wine accordingly.”

Fidelma frowned thoughtfully.

“So Abbot Miseno had already passed into the ecclesia before you poured the wine into the chalice?”

“He had.”

“And are you saying that at no time did you leave this sacristy after you had brought up the jug of wine and poured it into the chalice?”

“I judged the attendance while standing at the door. While I was doing this Father Cornelius came in. In fact, he did so not long after the Abbot.”

“Father Cornelius being the priest who officiated?”

“Yes. He changed his vestments for the service while I poured the wine into the chalice. I then returned to check if anyone else had joined the congregation.”

“Then, at that point, your back was toward the chalice? It was not in your field of vision the whole time?”

“But there was no one in the sacristy with me except…”

“Except Father Cornelius?”

The deacon’s mouth had snapped shut and he nodded glumly.

“Let me get this picture clear. Father Cornelius changed his vestments as you were standing at the door examining those entering the ecclesia?”

“Yes. I remember warning him that Abbot Miseno had already entered.”

“Warning him?” Fidelma was quick to spot the word.

“The Abbot is in charge of this ecclesia as well as several others in the vicinity. However, he and Father Cornelius were… how can I say it? … Their views did not coincide. Abbot Miseno has been trying to remove Father Cornelius from this church. That is no secret.”

“Do you know why?”

“It is not for me to say. You may address that question to Abbot Miseno and Father Cornelius.”

“Very well. What then?”

“Father Cornelius was annoyed. In fact, I think he was in an evil temper when he arrived. Anyway, he pushed by me and went straight to Abbot Miseno. I saw them speaking together. I would say that the conversation was not friendly. The appointed hour for the service came and I rang the bell as usual. Father Cornelius then went to the altar to start the service.”

Fidelma leant forward.

“Let me clarify this point: you say that you poured the wine into the chalice while Father Cornelius was changing his vestments; that you then went to stand by the door, turning your back on the chalice?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Think? You are not sure?”

“Well…” the deacon shrugged, “I would not take oath on it. Perhaps I poured it just after he left the sacristy.”