The Council of the Cursed

‘That is precisely the point of this council, my young Brother in Christ. I am well aware that the Gauls, Armoricans, Britons and the people of Hibernia have their own particular rituals and manners. Indeed, until a few years ago, those rites were also practised among the majority of the Saxons and the Franks. But now we must strive for some uniformity in our beliefs and practices. This, therefore, is an important council. Yet it now stands in danger of disbanding before it has even commenced its deliberations.’

Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘So what is it that you are proposing?’

Bishop Leodegar looked uncomfortable and then he tried to smile.

‘You are direct, Sister,’ he said.

‘It saves time,’ she replied gravely.

‘Very well. What I propose is that you and Brother Eadulf, not being here when the murder was committed and therefore not involved, will have the confidence of the council to investigate this matter and make recommendations as to who is responsible.’

‘How will that save the council?’ Fidelma asked.

‘You, Fidelma, are of the land from where the murdered abbot comes and therefore a good advocate for his rights. Eadulf is a Saxon and as such will not ignore the rights of Bishop Ordgar. You are acceptable to the Hibernians, and Eadulf is acceptable to the Angles and Saxons.’

‘And what about the Britons who are also involved?’ Fidelma queried.

‘I am told that your reputation is known even among them due to some service you performed for the King of Dyfed and the church of the Britons. I am sure that they, too, will accept you as a just advocate.’

Fidelma glanced across to Abbot Ségdae who had remained silent during this time.

‘And this is what you also wish?’ she asked him.

Abbot Ségdae bowed his head in agreement.

‘It is the only just way that I can think of in order to end the dissension which has held up the council during this last week. I think that your brother, the King, would support me in this for, as you know, the matter has repercussions between his kingdom and that of the north.’

Eadulf did not look happy.

‘There are many uncertainties in this matter,’ he pointed out.

‘Which are?’ demanded Bishop Leodegar.

‘Firstly, this matter is over a week old. Doubtless, Abbot Dabhóc has been buried…?’

‘Of course, as is custom,’ replied the bishop.

‘So we are unable to see for ourselves what the wound was, how it could have been delivered, how the body lay on the floor and so on.’

Bishop Leodegar looked surprised. ‘Why is that necessary?’

‘Perhaps not necessary but helpful,’ interposed Fidelma. ‘What we are hearing is that, when everything is pared away and we get down to the basic facts, you have two men, bitter enemies to one another, and we must judge which one of them is telling the truth.’

‘Or which one is telling the lies,’ added Eadulf.

Bishop Leodegar sat back, eyes narrowed. ‘Are you saying that this is impossible to judge?’

‘Impossibilium nulla obligatio est,’ Fidelma replied philosophically. ‘If I thought it impossible I would not even be discussing it. We are merely pointing out the difficulties.’

‘So you will undertake it?’ pressed Bishop Leodegar.

‘We will do so,’ she replied after a slight pause.

The man seemed to relax in relief. ‘Then it is agreed?’

‘Do we have freedom to question all those whom we deem it necessary to question?’ asked Fidelma. ‘Do I have that authority from you?’

The bishop looked puzzled. ‘But you only need to question Ordgar and Cadfan.’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘You sound as though you have prejudged matters, Bishop Leodegar. We will not prejudge-not even when it appears a simple choice between one or another. If you want us to proceed then it will be under the conditions that I stipulate or not at all.’

A slight look of annoyance crossed the bishop’s face.

Abbot Ségdae cleared his throat noisily.

‘We realise that you do things differently here, Bishop Leodegar,’ he said hastily. ‘However, in our lands we have a legal system which allows our advocates certain freedoms when they investigate.’

Bishop Leodegar regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments.

‘I have already said that I am prepared to waive the Rule of this abbey to allow Fidelma access to where no women are allowed.’

‘And I have agreed to be circumspect,’ replied Fidelma firmly, ‘but it is the authority to investigate as I would do in my own country under my own law system that I need. I know no other way of undertaking this task.’

‘I have heard of your laws and methods from travelling religious from your lands,’ the bishop said after some thought. Then, as if making up his mind, he squared his shoulders and said, ‘Very well. I see no reason to restrain you in this matter. I give you those freedoms.’

‘And to Brother Eadulf,’ added Fidelma brightly. ‘Remember, Eadulf is a gerefa of his own people, a magistrate of the Saxon laws.’

‘That I understand, which is why I said that Eadulf will be seen as unbiased in the matter of Bishop Ordgar. These facts should be made known to the community because it will enforce the authority of your findings. I give you full and free permission to question whom you wish on this matter. I will announce this at evening prayers. I only ask that your resolution be quick so that the delegates may be satisfied. Clotaire, who is our King, will be arriving here soon to give this council his royal approval. It would benefit all of us if the matter were resolved by the time of his arrival.’

‘There are no guarantees in life, save only one-that we are all going to die at some time,’ responded Fidelma. ‘We will do our best to solve this matter, but we cannot guarantee a resolution by a certain time. Is it agreed?’

Bishop Leodegar raised his hands as if the matter were now beyond him.

‘Very well,’ Fidelma rejoined. ‘Let us begin with a few questions to you.’

The bishop looked at her in surprise. ‘Questions to me?’

‘Of course,’ went on Fidelma, unperturbed at his astonishment. The Frankish bishop was obviously not used to being questioned. ‘Who was it who discovered the body and the state of affairs that existed in Bishop Ordgar’s chamber?’

‘It was Brother Sigeric,’ volunteered the steward Brother Chilperic, who had sat in silence until that moment.

‘Ah, Brother Sigeric. And who is he?’

‘One of the scribes.’

‘We shall need to speak with him, of course. Is he available?’

Brother Chilperic nodded briefly.

‘Excellent. What was the name of the physician who examined the body-and was it the same person who checked the wound of Abbot Cadfan and also examined Bishop Ordgar?’

‘Brother Gebicca is the physician,’ replied Brother Chilperic.

‘And now,’ Fidelma turned back to Bishop Leodegar, ‘tell us about your role in this matter?’

‘My role?’ Bishop Leodegar was puzzled.

‘Perhaps I have chosen the wrong word. I am told that Abbot Ségdae was awoken by a request to attend in Ordgar’s chamber. When he arrived, he found that you were already there. How did that come to be?’

‘Brother Sigeric roused me first,’ explained the bishop. ‘He told me there had been an accident and I was to come immediately.’

‘In what circumstances did this Brother Sigeric rouse you?’

‘It would be best to tell the story as fully as you can,’ intervened Eadulf. ‘Presumably, you were asleep in your quarters?’

‘I had meant to retire after the midnight prayers,’ Bishop Leodegar began. ‘That is my custom. I was particularly tired that night as I had dined with a local nobleman who was visiting the abbey and he had been much