The Council of the Cursed

their children from the Domus Femini?’

‘They are being kidnapped to be sold as slaves.’

Eadulf had suspected as much but had not wished to believe it.

‘But with the approval of the abbess and the others?’ He made it into a protest.

When Fidelma made no reply, he asked: ‘And how can it be linked with Abbot Dabhóc’s murder?’

‘I need some proof to support my suspicion.’

‘You think you know who is guilty?’

‘I suspect. That is not the same thing. I need proof.’

Eadulf shook his head in bewilderment. ‘We have run out of time.’

They fell in step and Fidelma guided him back towards the main entrance of the abbey.

‘As we cannot progress logically,’ she told him, ‘our next step is to create a catharsis-an action by which the enemy will react in such a way that they give themselves away.’

Eadulf halted in mid-stride.

‘What are you suggesting?’ he demanded with a frown. ‘I fear it is something dangerous.’

‘I am not sure yet what I am suggesting. First I am going to change into some simple garments so that I will not be noticed. Then I want to have a close look at Beretrude’s villa. The answer is there, perhaps in that cellar room where you saw Verbas of Peqini take the prisoners.’

Eadulf was horrified. ‘I…I forbid it. Absolutely! You know Verbas is there. You believe the affair of the poisonous snake was deliberate. If anyone goes to examine the villa, it must be me.’

‘I have a plan,’ she replied. ‘It needs you to remain here.’

‘And am I to know what your plan is?’

‘Do you remember that Brother Budnouen pointed out that seamstress shop not far from Beretrude’s villa? I shall get some local clothes there. I’ll disguise myself and then do what we call cúartugad-a reconnoitre.’

‘But we saw Sister Radegund go into that very seamstress,’ Eadulf reminded her. ‘It is too dangerous. What do you hope to find, anyway?’

‘I am not sure. I have to keep an open mind-that is why I, not you, must go. I want to explore the place where you saw Verbas of Peqini bring in the manacled women and the child. Perhaps these women are being held there. If not, I must find out where Verbas is. He is not merely a merchant. I believe he trades in slaves and Beretrude is involved with this.’

‘I still don’t see how it connects with Abbot Dabhóc’s murder.’

‘Poor Brother Gillucán supplied us with the connection. Think about it. But first things first. We have little time.’

‘Time? We have only two days. Two days and Leodegar will make his announcement,’ muttered Eadulf moodily.

‘Then we must push events towards a rapid conclusion.’

‘You cannot go on your own,’ Eadulf insisted.

‘One person can go where two can’t. A local woman wandering around the streets near the villa might pass unnoticed but a man and a woman would not. Besides, you must remain here in case I fail to return. In that case, find Ségdae and let him know everything you can. It will then be up to him. There is also a question you must ask Ségdae that has been troubling me. Unfortunately, there is no time to find him now.’

‘What question?’

‘Benén mac Sesenén of Midhe, Patrick’s comarb, whose name is on that missing reliquary-I am sure that he also adopted a Latin name but it eludes me. I need you to find out. I think it will tell us much.’

‘I will do so,’ Eadulf replied. ‘I am still worried about you going. Anything could happen to you, alone in the dark and-’

‘I don’t intend to go in the dark,’ replied Fidelma confidently. ‘I intend to go now, while it is still daylight. I hope to be back before dark. Don’t worry. I will be back. That’s a promise.’

Eadulf was about to protest again but she had turned and was gone.

Fidelma left the abbey and walked quickly across the great square, down the series of streets with which she was now familiar. In this part of the city, away from the main commercial centre, there were few people about and only one or two riders on horseback. An occasional wagon trundled by, passing through the narrow thoroughfares. Those people who passed gave her a courteous nod or muttered a greeting.

It was not long before she turned into the broad street that she knew led to the Square of Benignus and Lady Beretrude’s villa. On the top right-hand side of the street was the shop which sold dresses and other garments. The place was easy to find. She was confident that she could obtain some local clothes here with which to disguise herself. Clothes were hanging up, presumably ready for sale, dresses, scarves, skirts, cloaks, all manner of items. Fidelma hesitated on the doorstep and peered into the darkness behind. An elderly woman rose from her chair, laying aside a garment, and said something to her in the guttural language of the Burgunds. Fidelma presumed it was a greeting or merely a question of what she wanted.

‘Do you speak Latin?’ she asked.

It was the old woman’s turn to look puzzled.

Fidelma tried her basic Saxon with similar results. Then she pointed to some hanging garments.

‘I want to buy some clothes,’ she said slowly.

The old woman stared at her, looking her up and down with curiosity, for although her clothing was not that of the religieuse of the abbey, she wore her crucifix, and the manner of her robes indicated she was a religieuse.

Fidelma realised that communication was going to be difficult. Again she pointed to a dress which she considered might be useful and raised her eyebrows in interrogation.

‘How much?’ She used Saxon again, thinking the simple words were probably the same.

The old woman held up her hand, one finger raised as if in admonishment before turning to a door at the back of the room and calling to someone inside.

There was a movement and a young religieuse came in.

Although they had only met in darkness by the light of the candle, Fidelma recognised the girl at the same time that she recognised Fidelma.

‘Sister Inginde. I did not know you were allowed to leave the Domus Femini?’

The young girl regarded her in surprise for a moment or two and then her features re-formed in a smile of greeting.

‘Sister Fidelma! This is my aunt. I was given special permission to visit her, as she has not been well lately.’

‘Indeed?’

‘What brings you here, Sister Fidelma? Have you news of Valretrade?’

Fidelma decided to answer the second question first.

‘I have no news but I have not given up. And, as a matter of fact, I came here to buy some clothes.’

Sister Inginde looked puzzled. ‘My aunt does not generally make clothes for the religious, although she does some mending for us.’

‘It is not religious clothes I want,’ replied Fidelma. ‘I want something in which I can move freely about the city so that none may know my true identity.’

The girl regarded her curiously.

‘I need some simple clothing that may help me pass without comment in a place where I can find out some necessary information,’ Fidelma explained further.

‘Then by all means, we must help you.’ Inginde spoke rapidly to her aunt. The old woman regarded Fidelma critically. Then she said a few words. Sister Inginde nodded as if in agreement. ‘My aunt says that you should not wear colours that are too bright. Your hair is red and that is bright enough. She advises some sombre colours, a dress, and a cloak with a hood to cover your hair.’

The old woman took a drab brown dress from a peg and held it against Fidelma’s body.

‘My aunt thinks that it is your size,’ explained the young woman.

Some more items of clothing were chosen and Fidelma was able to change into them, using a scarf and