Our Lady of Darkness

‘When I reached Bobbio it was scarcely forty years since the death of Columbanus. Many of the religious there believed that the rules that he drew up, based on the rules of the Irish houses, were misguided.Columbanus, as blessed as the man was, argued with many of his followers. The Blessed Gall left his service to set up his own foundation even before Columbanus crossed the Alps to Bobbio. I became one of the party which, having seen how communities of the Western church were governed, came to believe that we should give up the Irish Rule and adopt the rule of the saintly Benedict of Noricum.’

‘So it was out of conviction that you did so?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then you went on to Rome?’

‘The Abbot of Bobbio asked me to undertake a mission to Rome, to support a sub-house that we ran there as a hostel for pilgrims.’

‘It sounds as though you did not go willingly?’

‘At first I did not. I felt it was a way for the abbot to rid himself of the opposition to his administration. He was against the Rule of Benedict.’

‘But you went?’

‘I did. In fact, on a personal level, it was a time of happiness for me. I ran the hostel by the Rule of Benedict and lived and worked in the very centre of Christendom. It was there I came to study the benefits of the Penitentials.’

‘How did you meet with Abbot Noé?’

‘Easily enough. He stayed at my hostel while he was on a pilgrimage to Rome last summer.’

‘You had not met him before nor were related to him?’

‘No.’

‘And yet he persuaded you to return with him to Laigin and become Abbess at Fearna?’

‘He talked about Fearna,’ The abbess was complacent. ‘It was I who persuaded him to take me there.’

‘How did that come about?’

‘I suppose he appreciated the way I ran my house in Rome.’ The abbess was guarded again.

‘He knew your views on the Penitentials?’

‘We discussed such matters long into the night. With all modesty, I converted him to my ideas.’

‘Really? You must be a powerful advocate,’ observed Fidelma.

‘It is not surprising. Abbot Noé is a very progressive man. He shared my idea of a kingdom ruled by the Penitentials and we spoke of how he could become spiritual adviser to young Fianamail. To be adviser andconfessor would give him influence in the matter.’

‘So Abbot Noé suddenly developed this ambition. How was it that you were made his successor at Fearna when custom dictated that an abbot or abbess must be elected in the same manner as a chieftain or any other leader — that the candidate must be chosen from the fine or family of the previous abbot meaning either his community or his blood kin — and be elected by the derbhfine?’

Abbess Fainder flushed and said nothing.

‘Your sister says that your family has no relationship with Noé’s family or with his religious community at Fearna. Thus ecclesiastical organisation reflects the civil organisation of this land.’

‘The sooner that is changed, the better,’ snapped the abbess.

‘In that regard, I might agree. The offices of bishops and abbots should not be kept in the same family for generations. But in dealing with the reality, how did Noé secure your election to the office?’

Abbess Fainder compressed her lips for a moment and then said, in a tight voice, ‘He dropped hints that I was a distant cousin and no one dared question Noé’s wishes.’

‘Not even the rechtaire, the stewardess of the abbey? She must have known the truth. She is related to the King’s family.’

The abbess grimaced, implying dismissal of Sister Étromma.

‘She is a simple soul, content merely on running the business of the abbey.’

Fidelma gave the abbess a long, searching look.

‘The reality was that you converted Noé by becoming his mistress, isn’t that it?’

Her sharp, unexpected question caught the abbess off guard and her flushed face confirmed the answer to the question. Fidelma shook her head sadly.

‘It is not my concern how the religious of Laigin govern their communities but how it impinges in the case of Eadulf. Does Forbassach know of your real relationship with Noé?’

‘He knows,’ whispered the abbess.

‘As the Brehon of this kingdom, the bishop seems to accept a lot of bending of the law.’

‘I am not aware of Bishop Forbassach breaking or bending the law,’ protested the abbess.

‘I think that you are well aware of it! Forbassach is also your lover, isn’t that the truth of it?’

The abbess was silent for a moment, not sure how to answer and then she said defensively, ‘I thought I loved Noé until I came here and met Forbassach. Anyway, there is no rule of celibacy in the Church.’

‘True enough, save for those rules which you claim to follow. Your curious triangle is a matter for your own conscience as well as for the wife of Forbassach. I know him to be married. She must consider whether this relationship is grounds for divorce or whether she will meekly accept the situation. Does Noé know about Forbassach?’

‘No!’ Abbess Fainder was scarlet with mortification. ‘I have been trying to break with him but …’

‘It is difficult after he has made you abbess?’ Fidelma was cynical.

‘I love Forbassach.’ She was almost defiant.

‘But it will present a pretty scandal, especially among those who proclaim the cause of Rome and the Penitentials. As a matter of interest, why did you refuse to acknowledge Daig as your brother-in-law or Deog as your sister, come to that? I cannot believe it was a matter of protecting your social rank.’

‘I visited Deog regularly,’ Fainder protested.

‘True, but in secret and because her cabin was a quiet place where you could meet with Forbassach.’

‘You have already answered the question yourself. You would not understand because you have always had social rank. When you do not have it and manage to obtain it, you will do anything — anything — to defend what you have gained.’

Fidelma heard the vehemence in her voice.

‘Anything?’ she mused. ‘It occurs to me that Daig’s death was convenient in protecting your rank.’

‘It was an accident. A drowning.’

‘I presume you knew that he was only a witness against Brother Ibar because of Gabrán’s word alone? It seems that the more he thought about the matter, the less sure he was about Ibar’s guilt?’

Abbess Fainder seemed perplexed as Fidelma sprang from one subject to another.

‘That is not so. It was Daig who caught Brother Ibar.’

‘But only after Gabrán had told Daig that Ibar was guilty. Did Gabrán tell Daig the truth? And why, once Daig had made his deposition, did he so conveniently get killed?’

Fainder’s face was drawn in anger now.

‘It was an accident. He was drowned — I have told you. Nor has the matter anything to do with me.’

‘Perhaps Daig could have cast more light on the matter. We don’t know. And now another person who could have told us more about this business is also dead.’ She gestured towards Gabrán’s cabin.

Abbess Fainder stood up, facing Fidelma. She seemed to be trying to recover something of her old arrogance.

‘I do not know what you mean nor what you imply,’ she said coldly. ‘I only know that you are trying to exonerate your Saxon friend. You are trying to accuse me and implicate Bishop Forbassach because we are lovers.’

‘It would seem,’ interrupted Fidelma evenly, ‘that, whatever is going on at Fearna, people have a habit of either being killed or disappearing. I would think about that, if I were as innocent as you claim to be.’

Abbess Fainder stood staring at Fidelma with wide, dark eyes. Her face had grown pale. She took a step forward and, as she opened her mouth, a shrill cry of terror echoed from the woods on the bank.