Our Lady of Darkness

She turned back and rapidly made her way up the stairs to the dank corridor which led to Eadulf’s cell. Brother Cett had gone; another religieux was standing guard in his place.

‘What do you want?’ he muttered rudely, emerging from the gloom.

‘Firstly, I would like to see you use better manners, Brother,’ Fidelma replied curtly. ‘Secondly, I would like you to open the door to this cell for me. I have authority from the abbess.’

The figure took a step back in the gloom as if in surprise.

‘I have no orders …’ came his sullen tone.

‘I am giving you the orders, Brother. I am a dálaigh. Brother Cett had no problem when I came here earlier with Sister Étromma.’

‘Sister Étromma? She said nothing to me. She and Cett have gone down to the quay.’

The religieux considered the matter while Fidelma fretted impatiently for several long seconds. She thought that she would be met with a stubborn refusal. Then, almost reluctantly, he moved forward and threw the bolts back.

‘I will call you when I am ready to leave,’ Fidelma told him in relief, entering the room.

Eadulf looked up in surprise.

‘I did not expect to see you again so soon …’ he began.

‘I need to ask you a few more questions. I want to know more about this Brother Ibar. We may not have long as they don’t know that I have come back to see you.’

Eadulf shrugged. ‘Little enough to tell, Fidelma. He sat next to me in the refectory for the evening meal on the day that I arrived here. We spoke briefly there. I never saw him again — well, not until this morning, down here.’ He nodded towards the courtyard.

‘What conversation passed between you?’

Eadulf looked at her with a frown.

‘He only asked me where I came from. I told him. He said he was from the north of this kingdom, a blacksmith by trade. He was proud of his trade although disappointed that the abbey couldn’t make better use of his talents than to ask him to turn out constraints for the animals. He had been unhappy here since Abbess Fainder’s arrival. I recall that I pointed out that many communities needed animals by which to feed themselves and every task was worthy of the labourer. He said …’

‘You spoke of nothing else? You spoke only of such general matters?’ Fidelma tried not to sound disappointed.

‘Oh, he also asked me about some Saxon customs, that’s all.’

‘Saxon customs? Such as what?’

‘Why Saxons kept slaves. A curious thing to ask, I thought.’

‘Nothing else?’

Eadulf shook his head. ‘He just seemed unhappy with the work that he was asked to do. He seemed preoccupied with it right to the end. In fact, the last thing I heard the poor fellow cry was “ask about the manacles”. I think he had gone out of his mind by then. It’s a terrible thing to face, is a hangman’s rope …’

Fidelma was clearly disappointed and did not notice the falter in Eadulf’s voice. She had hoped that the late Brother Ibar might have made some remark which would prove to be the thread that could unravel and disentangle this curious web. She forced a smile at Eadulf.

‘No matter. I will see you again and soon.’

She banged on the door.

The surly Brother had been waiting outside, for the door immediately swung open and she was let out.

Chapter Six

Sister Fidelma was crossing the courtyard again when Sister Étromma caught up with her.

‘I asked you to wait at the apothecary,’ she admonished irritably. ‘You might have become lost, for this abbey is no small country church.’

Fidelma did not bother to explain that she had a facility for remembering her way to and from a place once she had been shown. Neither did she mention that while the abbey was, indeed, large by comparison to many houses in the five kingdoms, she had seen greater abbey complexes at Armagh, at Whitby and in Rome.

‘I was told that you had been called down to the quay,’ she said.

The stewardess appeared to be taken aback. ‘Who told you that?’

Fidelma did not want to confess that she had seen Eadulf again and so continued: ‘I was on my way to find Abbess Fainder. ‘I have a few more questions for her. Did you find the novitiate, Sister Fial?’

Sister Étromma looked uncomfortable for a moment.

‘No, I have not been able to find her.’

‘Why on earth not?’ Fidelma was exasperated.

‘No one appears to have seen her for some time.’

‘Exactly how do you quantify some time?’

‘I am told that she has not been seen for several days. We are still looking for her.’

Fidelma had a dangerous glint in her eye. ‘Before we see the abbess, I would like you to show me the guest hostel — the place where Brother Eadulf slept.’

It did not take long for the stewardess to guide Fidelma to the hostel. The dormitory of the guests’ quarter was not large; there were only half a dozen beds in it.

‘Which bed did Brother Eadulf occupy?’ asked Fidelma.

Sister Étromma pointed to the farthest placed bed in a corner of the room.

Fidelma went to it and sat on its edge. She gave a cursory glance underneath the bed. There was nothing there.

‘Naturally it has been used several times since the Saxon was here,’ the stewardess explained.

‘Naturally. And has the mattress been changed?’

Sister Étromma appeared puzzled. ‘The mattresses are changed as and when they need to be. I don’t think that we have changed it since the Saxon slept here. Why?’

Fidelma pulled away the blankets to reveal the straw-filled mattress. It was the usual thin palliasse type. She reached forward tentatively and prodded it here and there.

‘What are you looking for?’ demanded the rechtaire.

Fidelma did not respond.

She had felt a slight hardness amidst the straw and her eyes detected the hole at the side of the mattress where the stitching had become undone. She smiled. She knew Eadulf better than he knew himself. He was a cautious man and the upheavals of the last weeks had caused him to forget just how cautious he had been.

Fidelma reached into the mattress and her slim fingers caught the small rod of wood. Next to it she felt the soft roll of vellum. She withdrew them swiftly and held them up to Sister Étromma’s astonished gaze.

‘You will bear me witness, Sister,’ Fidelma said as she stood up. ‘Here is the white wand of office which Brother Eadulf carried showing that he was an official messenger from the King of Cashel. Here is a letter in the hand of the same King, to Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury. Brother Eadulf had put them for safekeeping in the mattress.’

Sister Étromma’s face bore a curious expression, of which uncertainty seemed predominant.

‘These had best be taken to Abbess Fainder,’ she said eventually.

Fidelma shook her head and deliberately placed them in her marsupium, the leather pouch she always wore at her waist.

‘These will remain with me. You saw from where I retrieved them? You will be my witness. These plainly show that Brother Eadulf was a fer taistil, a techtaire, a king’s messenger, and therefore part of the king’s household with rights of protection.’

‘It is no use telling me the law,’ protested Sister Étromma. ‘I am no dálaigh.’

‘Just remember that you bear witness to my finding these items,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘And now …’