The Council of the Cursed

‘And you are the emissary from Rome?’

‘I am indeed envoy to the council. I brought the instructions from His Holiness, Vitalian, to Bishop Leodegar, concerning the council and giving it blessing and authority. I have to await the outcome of the debates and take those decisions back to Rome again. I am sure the Venerable Gelasius will be delighted to hear the news. It was only yesterday that the bishop told me of your presence here. I have been visiting some of the outlying churches near this city. But I am glad that matters have entered safe hands. What has transpired here is sad. It was a wise decision of Bishop Leodegar, to seek out your talents to resolve the matter.’

Fidelma was deprecating.

‘We can only do what we are able, Nuntius. I trust that the Venerable Gelasius is well and presumably still in his position in Rome?’

‘He is, indeed, and thinks of you with kindly thoughts. You performed a great service for Rome, which he does not forget.’

‘He flatters me.’

‘Not so. Since Vitalian was elected to the throne of the Blessed Peter, the Church has been taking great strides forward. The schisms that Christendom has suffered are slowly mending, thanks to His Holiness. He has sought to repair the connection between Constantinople and Rome by friendly advances, and sent envoys and gifts to Patriach Peter of Constantinople. In that he has been successful, and now his name, as a Bishop of Rome, has been entered in the diptychs of those eastern churches for the first time in many a generation.’

‘Diptychs?’ frowned Eadulf.

‘The lists of those regarded as worthy and in communion with the teachings of the Faith and elevation to high office,’ explained Fidelma in a swift aside.

‘Exactly so,’ Nuntius Peregrinus confirmed. ‘Vitalian has also tried to heal the rift between the Saxons and the Britons, as you know, by sending Theodore to minister to them. And he is trying to deal with the heresy of monothelitism and bring all the churches into a one-ness with Rome. Hence the importance of this council.’

Fidelma sighed softly. ‘He is obviously ambitious for Rome.’

‘Ambitious for the furtherance of the Faith.’

‘As I say, we will do our best to resolve the matters that have created a postponement to the coming together of that council. Tell me, Nuntius, did you inform Bishop Leodegar that you knew me?’

‘No. I wanted to see you first, to make sure that you were the same Fidelma whom I saw in Rome. Would you prefer I did mention you?’

‘You may do so freely,’ she replied.

‘Well, if there is ever help required, you may count on it that you have an influential friend at the Lateran Palace, Sister,’ the Nuntius assured her. ‘And if there is anything I can do here, let me know. Perhaps we can meet later and talk about the passing of the years. The Venerable Gelasius will be eager to hear all that has befallen you.’

‘Then let us meet in the calefactorium before the evening meal,’ suggested Fidelma.

‘Excellent. I shall be there.’

With a wave of his hand, Nuntius Peregrinus turned and hurried away. Behind him, his silent shadow, an armed member of the custodes of the Lateran Palace, reinforcing Peregrinus’ rank as envoy of Vitalian, emerged from a corner and followed him.

‘A small world,’ muttered Eadulf as they continued on to the door.

‘It might be beneficial that the Nuntius remembers us,’ Fidelma remarked. ‘I have a feeling that we might need his help in dealing with Bishop Leodegar.’

Chapter Nine

Fidelma and Eadulf emerged into the great square before the abbey. They walked slowly along the flags to the broad wagonway that led up to the large central courtyard. On one side was the huge wooden door that was the entrance to the Domus Femini. The courtyard itself was pretty enough. There was the inevitable fountain in the centre. It was a marble statue of a strange beast from whose mouth the water gushed. The entrance opposite to that of the Domus Femini had been blocked up, as this obviously led into the male quarters of the abbey. There was one dark arched recess further down off the wagonway, which Eadulf initially thought might lead to a doorway providing a shortcut into the abbey, but he saw that even that was blocked.

They approached the large oak door, which was studded with iron. A rope hung to one side and Fidelma tugged on it. They heard the distant clang of the bell and waited. After a short while, a small hatch in the centre of the door was drawn aside and two pale eyes stared out.

‘I am Sister Fidelma and this is Brother Eadulf. We are here to see the abbatissa, Abbess Audofleda. She is expecting us.’

This received a curt response: ‘Wait!’ Then the hatch was slammed shut.

Fidelma turned and smiled wryly at Eadulf.

‘Not overly welcoming,’ he muttered in response.

Suddenly bolts were drawn noisily back and the big door swung slowly inwards.

A religieuse stood framed in the doorway. She gave the impression of tallness, of an austere face, a large nose, dark, almost black eyebrows and bright blue eyes. Her hands were folded in front of her, hidden within the folds of her black robe.

‘Enter,’ she commanded, taking a step backward to allow them to do so.

They became aware of another religieuse, who was obviously the doorkeeper, pushing shut the heavy door behind them. Once again, the sound of the bolts being pushed home was like the blow of a hammer falling on an anvil.

‘Are you Abbess Audofleda?’ asked Fidelma.

The woman sniffed in disapproval. ‘I am Sister Radegund,’ she replied curtly. ‘I serve the abbatissa. You will follow me.’ Her manner was as sharp as her features.

Without further ado, she turned and walked swiftly along an arched corridor into a small quadrangle, veered right and followed another short corridor to a circular stone stairwell. Taking the stairs with surprising speed, without once glancing behind to see if they were following, she then set off along another passageway. Eadulf had seen many religious houses but none with such an air of gloom. The male section of the abbey was grey and brooding enough, but the Domus Femini was infinitely worse. He felt quite depressed as he looked around the grey stone walls hoping for some relief-some flowers, icons, wall paintings-anything to relieve the drabness that reminded him of a fortress rather than a house devoted to the worship of God.

Sister Radegund halted abruptly outside a door.

She finally turned and glanced at Fidelma and Eadulf for a moment, almost as if ensuring that they were presentable enough to be shown into the presence. Then she rapped upon the door. A voice came faintly bidding them enter.

They were shown into the study of Abbess Audofleda. Although the abbatissa and her sisters had attended the morning and evening services, they had been invisible to Fidelma and Eadulf because they entered the chapel by a separate route and were shielded from the brethren by wooden screens. Abbess Audofleda was seated behind her table and wore a head-dress which was drawn back so that her face was fully visible, but covering her hair. A woman of middle age, she could never have been described as attractive, thanks to the bony forehead, jutting jawline and large nose with a prominent bump that could almost be described as hooked. The eyes were pale and without compassion. The lips were thin, and the skin ashen where it was not blotched upon the cheeks.

‘This is Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf, abbatissa,’ intoned Sister Radegund, who stood deferentially before them with hands still folded and eyes downcast.

Abbess Audofleda sat back, her own hands placed firmly on the table in front of her. She stared in disapproval, firstly at Eadulf and then at Fidelma.