The Leper's bell

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‘Eadulf, I regret all the things I did or said, and any actions of my people, that have made you feel a stranger and inferior to us.’

Eadulf grinned awkwardly. ‘No one can make another feel inferior without his or her consent. If a person thinks others are deeming him inferior it is because he feels it. I may have felt unwelcome at times, but that is because I am a stranger to this land and, as such, not welcome to some. But that is the nature of people. We are always more comfortable with the things we know.’

‘Will you forgive us … will you forgive me?’

‘You cannot forgive the golden eagle for being a golden eagle,’ he replied gently. ‘There is nothing to forgive you for because you have acted in accordance with your nature.’

Fidelma pouted. ‘Eadulf, at times you make me despair. You are too nice and forgiving,’ she admonished him.

He shrugged with a whimsical smile. ‘And that is my nature.’

Fidelma was crossing the courtyard when she became aware of a disturbance at the gates. She crossed to them and found Caol with a man and a woman. The latter held a baby in her arms.

‘What is it?’ Fidelma demanded.

Caol grimaced in annoyance. ‘An itinerant herbalist and his wife demanding entrance. I have told them to be on their way.’

‘But the Saxon brother-’ began the man.

‘Silence. You are speaking in the presence of the sister of the king,’ snapped Caol.

‘Wait!’ instructed Fidelma. ‘You are the herbalist Corb and you are his wife Corbnait?’

‘We are. Brother Eadulf told us to come here and we promised we would even though it might bring down punishment upon us. I am a man of my word. I was not always an itinerant.’

Fidelma’s face softened. ‘You are most welcome. I do not blame either of you for the role you have played. Indeed, you were the means of saving my son’s life when he was abandoned in the forest. Come, we will take a drink together and over it you may tell me the story that you told to Brother Eadulf.’

She was turning away when Caol called after her. She glanced back.

‘You asked me to tell you when Brother Conchobar returned to Cashel,’ the warrior reminded her. ‘He has done so.’

The door of the cell opened and Brehon Dathal came in. He stood looking sourly at Eadulf.

Eadulf sprang up from the single cot that furnished the cell.

‘What is this nonsense?’ he demanded.

Brehon Dathal motioned to someone who stood outside the door and a warrior handed him a three-legged stool.

‘Sit down,’ the old man ordered sharply.

Eadulf reluctantly obeyed. ‘I say again, what is this nonsense, Dathal? Who has made up this preposterous story that I killed Bishop Petrán?’

‘Do you deny that you have often argued with Bishop Petrán?’

Eadulf almost laughed. ‘I do not. We disagreed fundamentally about matters relating to the conduct of the church. And most people in the five kingdoms would also disagree with his teachings. While I have supported the authority of Rome, for we are told it is where Peter, into whose hands the Christ gave the building of his church, began that task, I cannot support Petrán’s other more ascetic arguments.’

‘So you killed him?’

Eadulf snorted in indignation.

Brehon Dathal regarded him sourly.

‘You would do well to take me seriously, Saxon. Do you think that because I am old I cannot any longer judge the facts?’

Eadulf stared at him for a moment or two.

‘I do not care whether you are young or old. When a false accusation is made, I do not take it kindly. I could similarly ask you whether it is because I am a stranger to this land that you think I must be guilty of murder?’

‘I abide by the law,’ snapped Brehon Dathal. ‘I am not prejudiced against you.’

‘I abide by facts.’

‘The facts are simple. Bishop Petrán was found dead in his chamber. He was poisoned. You fled from Cashel on that very day. On the previous evening you were seen to have had a violent row with the bishop. Do you deny these facts?’

‘I do not deny that I had a row with Petrán but I deny it was violent. I deny that I fled from Cashel. I left Cashel, leaving a note for Fidelma, after I had discovered something that led me to believe that I might find my son. And find him I did. I had no idea that Petrán was dead until Caol told me on my return.’

‘And you expect me to believe that?’

‘I do not expect anything except the courtesy of being heard without bias.’

Brehon Dathal coloured. ‘You dare accuse me, the Chief Brehon of Muman, of being biased?’

‘I do not accuse you. I merely comment on what I see,’ snapped Eadulf.

‘Things will go badly for you, stranger, unless you confess your misdeed now.’

‘You threaten me?’ Eadulf sprang up.

A warrior appeared in the doorway. He looked apologetic.

‘Brother Eadulf, it would be wise if you remained seated and answered the Brehon’s questions with respect,’ he said quietly.

Eadulf realised that he was doing himself no good by giving vent to anger. He returned to his seat on the bed.

‘I refuse to answer any questions from someone who seems to have prejudged my guilt and does not offer me the slightest evidence to back his accusation apart from the fact that I was seen to have an argument with the bishop.’

Brehon Dathal, the skin stretched tight around his mouth in anger, rose and strode from the room. The warrior picked up the abandoned stool. The cell door slammed shut.

Eadulf began to feel rage overtaking his sense of despair and he fought to control it.

Fidelma, having confirmed the story of Corb and Corbnait and ensured that they were receiving proper hospitality as witnesses, hurried to Brother Conchobar’s apothecary shop.

‘You should have warned me,’ she said immediately on entering, irritation and disapproval in her voice.

The elderly apothecary glanced up in surprise from the herbs he was pounding in a pestle with a mortar.

‘Warned you, lady?’ he asked blankly.

‘About the results of your tests on Bishop Petrán,’ she snapped.

The man’s face was blank. ‘Why would I warn you about that?’

‘Because Brehon Dathal has had Eadulf arrested and charged him with the killing. Eadulf is in serious trouble and I need to know from you how this poison was administered and anything you can tell me about its nature.’

Brother Conchobar looked utterly confused.

‘Poison? Killing? What are you talking about, lady?’

Fidelma tried to contain her impatience.

‘I am talking about Bishop Petrán. Eadulf is charged with administering the poison that killed him.’

Brother Conchobar raised his arms helplessly.

‘Bishop Petrán was not poisoned.’

It was now Fidelma’s turn to look utterly bewildered.

‘Then how was he killed?’