The Council of the Cursed

today.’

Eadulf was in agreement. ‘The apothecary is right, Fidelma. If there is anything that needs to be done, I can do it.’

‘At the moment, you may help me to our chamber,’ Fidelma replied grimly. It was clear that, in spite of her question, she was not able to move without help.

Supported by Eadulf, with her arm around his shoulder, Fidelma thanked the apothecary and, limping a little, made her way to the main building of the abbey. One or two of the delegates greeted her and asked after her health. Abbot Ségdae also met them and pressed his profound relief at seeing her in a better state than on the previous night. Finally, they reached their chamber and Fidelma collapsed on the bed, exhausted by the effort.

Eadulf went to get her some water and she sipped at it gratefully.

‘I rather think the apothecary is right,’ she admitted, after handing the mug back to Eadulf. ‘I need more rest than I thought. That walk was quite tiring.’ She noticed the basket of fruit and another of various herbs in the room. ‘The abbey, at least, seems to be concerned for my health,’ she said.

Eadulf glanced at the baskets.

‘Bishop Leodegar brought those in. Apparently, the Lady Beretrude sent them, fruit and healing herbs, and with all good wishes for your recovery.’

Fidelma frowned suddenly. ‘Lady Beretrude?’ She remembered the moments in the garden with Beretrude encouraging her to look more closely at the shrubbery…at what was it-the oleander?

Eadulf saw her frown. ‘What is it?’

‘I just wondered if Beretrude knew there was a poisonous snake in the shrubbery.’

Eadulf was surprised at the question. ‘Why would she know that?’ he demanded.

‘She was encouraging me to go near the shrubbery just before you came.’

‘She could not have known a poisonous snake would be there.’

‘There was a wooden border around those shrubs. It was of such a height that a snake would not be able to move over it. Perhaps the creature had been purposely placed there.’

Eadulf was dubious. ‘Are you saying that she deliberately tried to kill you?’ He looked unconvinced. ‘The bite of a viper does not necessarily mean death. Even Brother Gebicca likened it to a bee-sting, affecting only the young and those with weak constitutions.’

‘It is debilitating nonetheless for that,’ replied Fidelma in annoyance at his argument. ‘It might have been an attempt to prevent me from pursuing the investigation.’

It was then that Eadulf remembered what he had been about to tell her at the moment that the snake had bitten her.

‘I think we were right to suspect that Beretrude might have some connection with the women from the Domus Femini,’ he said slowly. ‘Last night I saw something at the villa that shocked me, and that was when I came to find you in the garden.’

Fidelma turned an enquiring look at him.

‘After we had agreed to part and look round,’ Eadulf told her, ‘I went along the eastern side of the villa. I had some idea of finding a back entrance and having a look inside.’

‘Go on,’ she said, when he paused.

‘I came to an area where stone stairs led downwards into a cellar. At the foot of these stairs was a door-a solid wooden one with no grille in it and no handle or lock, so it seemed. I presumed it could only be opened from the inside.’

‘And so?’

‘I was about to go down the steps to examine it further when I heard the cry of a child.’

Fidelma’s eyes widened a little. ‘A child? This came from behind the door?’

‘No, it came from beyond an iron gate in the wall. I heard a man’s harsh commands so I hid behind some barrels. The gate opened and a child and two women were pushed through by a warrior. The women were clad in the robes of religieuses. They had their hands bound in front of them, even the child. As well as the warrior, who had his weapon drawn, there was someone else…’

Fidelma was irritated by Eadulf’s dramatic pause. ‘And who was this someone else?’ she prompted. ‘An old friend of ours.’ ‘Old friend? Stop speaking in riddles, Eadulf. Just tell me who it was.’ ‘Verbas of Peqini.’

Chapter Fourteen

Fidelma had lapsed into a thoughtful silence at the news of the presence of Verbas of Peqini at Lady Beretrude’s villa. Eadulf sat and waited, not wishing to interrupt her thoughts as she considered the ramifications of his news. But it was not long before she told him, ‘The fact that Verbas is here does not alter the basic mystery around the murder of Dabhóc, although it puts an interesting slant on matters.’

‘He could not have known that we were here, surely?’

‘I agree-it must be a bizarre coincidence although, as I have said before, I have never really believed in coincidences. However, he could not have known we were here before arriving. He must have arranged to trade with Lady Beretrude some time ago.’

‘But to trade in what?’ wondered Eadulf.

‘You say that there were two religieuse and the child and they seemed to be prisoners?’

‘Verbas and a warrior were taking them into an underground room at Beretrude’s villa,’ confirmed Eadulf.

‘Then I fear this has something to do with the disappearance of the religieuse at the Domus Femini.’

‘And the cries that Gillucán heard? Could they have been the cries of children?’

‘Let us not leap too far ahead.’ Fidelma swung off the bed and tried to stand but immediately sank back with a word that was unusual for her to utter.

‘Brother Gebicca said that you should rest,’ Eadulf admonished.

‘I know what he said,’ she replied coldly. ‘The point is that the time is passing swiftly. There is much to be done, especially in view of this information. I want to have a further word with Abbess Audofleda.’

‘I can do that,’ offered Eadulf. ‘I know what it is that I must look for.’

Fidelma was not persuaded.

‘Oh, come,’ protested Eadulf. ‘I know enough about your methods and this matter. True, I am not as well versed in the law of the Brehons but I am an hereditary gerefa of my own people-and are not my people closely related to these Franks or Burgunds-closely enough that I might understand their way of thinking?’

Fidelma was slightly surprised at the vehemence in his tone. The thought occurred that perhaps she was being selfish. Eadulf had his pride as well. She knew that if she had a fault it was the belief that only she could gather the evidence and resolve a mystery. And even as that thought came to her, she remembered the many times that Eadulf had almost single-handedly resolved a case. There was the time in Gleann Geis, when he had had to argue on her behalf in front of Murgal the Brehon when Fidelma herself was charged with murder. It was Eadulf’s arguments that had secured her release. Then, of course, there was the time they had arrived at Aldred’s Abbey where she had fallen ill and was confined to her bed while Eadulf had done all the investigation so that together they had solved the mystery of Abbot Botulf’s murder. She had, indeed, to remind herself that Eadulf was an hereditary gerefa or magistrate of his own people. His mind was just as sharp and penetrating as her own. Indeed, was that not part of the mutual attraction that had brought them together?

She sighed deeply and held out a hand to him.

‘Eadulf, Eadulf,’ she said softly, ‘you have great patience with me. I tend to be a little selfish in these matters.’

Eadulf felt awkward. He was unused to Fidelma apologising.

‘It’s just that I can save time in this matter,’ he said gruffly. ‘It is best that you spend a day recovering and come to the matter fit and well tomorrow.’