Chalice of Blood

‘Before he left on his pilgrimage, his soul friend was Brother Gáeth,’ replied the abbot. ‘Donnchad seemed to spend much of his time with Brother Gáeth. They had known one another since they were children.’

‘Then Brother Gáeth should be able to tell us what it was that troubled Brother Donnchad,’ Eadulf said.

Brother Lugna re-entered the room. Fidelma caught the uncomfortable glance that Abbot Iarnla cast at him as he entered. Brother Lugna had picked up on the last remark.

‘I am afraid you will not get much help from Brother Gáeth,’ he said firmly. ‘Since Brother Donnchad’s return, their friendship ceased. Brother Gáeth was forbidden even to approach him.’

‘Forbidden? By whom?’ queried Fidelma.

‘By none other than Brother Donnchad himself,’ replied the steward.

‘Nevertheless, we shall speak to Brother Gáeth,’ said Fidelma. ‘When did Brother Donnchad become so solitary? Presumably there was a period between the time he came back to the community and when he became reclusive.’

‘He arrived back in early summer. The problems really began about three or four days before his death,’ replied Brother Lugna. ‘I only knew him after he had returned from the pilgrimage, so I am not able to judge any differences in his character. All I can say is that he always kept himself and his thoughts to himself.’

The abbot nodded. ‘It is true that, after his return, he often seemed preoccupied. He was — how should I put it? — of an unfriendly disposition. He confided in no one, kept himself to himself and moved in a secretive way. But three or four days before his death, he locked himself in his cell and refused to see anyone.’

‘And you have no idea what caused him to do that?’

Brother Lugna was shaking his head but it was the abbot who replied. ‘There is no reason that I know of. All I know is that four days before his death, he returned to the abbey and shut himself in his cell.’

‘He returned to the abbey?’ Fidelma asked quickly. ‘I am not sure what you mean.’

Brother Lugna, who had compressed his lips in a reaction to the abbot’s words, now spoke awkwardly.

‘The abbot refers to the fact that Brother Donnchad left the abbey for an entire day without our knowledge. We ascribed this breach of our rules to his peculiar behaviour generally. As steward, I was going to reprimand him for that disobedience in not seeking our … the abbot’s approval. That day I noticed he did not attend the early morning service. Then Brother Echen, our stableman, mentioned that Brother Donnchad had taken a horse from the abbey stables and ridden off before dawn, saying that he would return that evening. Brother Echen naturally assumed that he had the permission of the abbot and myself.’

‘And did he return when he said he would?’

‘He came back well after dark, left the horse in the stable and went straight to his cell, locked the door and refused to communicate with anyone. The following day I sent for Lady Eithne. I never saw him alive again.’

‘Did you do anything in response to this curious behaviour, apart from allowing his mother to attempt to reason with him?’

‘On the very morning before we discovered his body, we discussed the best way of dealing with the matter,’ replied the abbot. ‘Rightly or wrongly, I had previously decided that he needed more time to settle back after his momentous journey. But that morning I decided to confront him. I went to his cell with Brother Lugna. When we could not get in, I sent for our blacksmith and he broke down the door. That was when we found him. Murdered.’

‘Let me get this clear.’ Fidelma was thoughtful and spoke quietly. ‘Before he became reclusive, did you discuss with Brother Donnchad any matters that were bothering him?’

‘We had a few discussions immediately after his return butnot since his behaviour became strange and certainly not during the last week.’

‘What were the subjects of the discussions on his return?’

‘Varied. About the sights he had seen in his travels and the gift he brought back. Also about the changes to the abbey, the new building. But he was very preoccupied, as I said. It was as if his heart was not in such matters and his interests lay elsewhere.’

‘So where do you think he went on the day that he left the abbey? Do you think he went to see his mother?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Lugna shook his head immediately, saying, ‘It was something I asked Lady Eithne but she had not seen him that day or for some time prior. I am afraid that we have no idea where he went on his last journey from the abbey.’

Fidelma sat silently for a few minutes before summing up the facts she had been told.

‘So, in short, what you are telling us is that when Donnchad returned from his pilgrimage, he was troubled by something. He feared that someone would steal the manuscripts he had brought back with him and asked for a lock and key on his door. We hear now that he also feared for his life. His attitude was such that you felt he should be “humoured”, your word, in this matter.’ She glanced at them to emphasise the point. Brother Lugna nodded slightly. The abbot did not meet her eyes. ‘Then he disappeared from the community for an entire day, without permission and without telling anyone where he had been. When he returned, he locked himself in his chamber. Having felt that his behaviour was becoming even more abnormal, Brother Lugna sent for his mother to speak to him but she had no effect. So, finally, you both went to remonstrate with him and found him dead, murdered in his cell, yet the door was locked, and you maintain that it could only have been locked from the inside. Am I right?’

‘Those are the essential details,’ agreed Abbot Iarnla.

Fidelma continued, ‘We will go to examine the cell shortly but you have told me that there was only one key. How do you know it was turned from the inside?’

It was Brother Lugna who answered without hesitation.

‘Because the only key was lying by Brother Donnchad’s body. Therefore it had to have been turned from the inside.’

‘Logical enough,’ muttered Eadulf. ‘But a lot seems to rely on your assertion that there was only one key.’

‘It is no assertion. As I said, our blacksmith was told to make the lock specially and only one key was provided to assure Brother Donnchad of his security.’

‘And these manuscripts that he guarded so diligently, only his mother seems to have glimpsed them.’

‘Lady Eithne says she saw them, so they must have been stolen by whoever killed him,’ asserted the steward firmly.

The abbot said nothing and Fidelma turned to him.

‘You seem uncertain, Abbot Iarnla.’

‘I cannot comment. I never saw the documents.’

‘Do you doubt Lady Eithne’s word?’

‘I would only point out that Lady Eithne admits that she does not know Greek from Hebrew. How can we rely on her word that the manuscripts that she glimpsed were the precious documents that Brother Donnchad claimed they were?’

‘Did anyone else see these valuable manuscripts apart from Lady Eithne?’ Eadulf asked.

‘I imagine that our scriptor, Brother Donnán, would have seen them,’ Brother Lugna replied.

‘Did you question the scriptor about them?’ Fidelma asked. ‘After all, as the head of your scriptorium in this abbey, he should surely have known about such precious manuscripts being brought here.’

‘We have questioned no one,’ replied Brother Lugna, a little sourly, avoiding looking at the abbot. ‘It was felt that such matters should await your arrival.’

‘We will speak with your scriptor,’ Fidelma said gently. ‘And we will examine Brother Donnchad’s cell. I presume the obsequies have already been conducted?’

‘As you know, it is our tradition to bury the body within twenty-four hours,’ replied the abbot. ‘He was laid to rest in our burial ground just outside the abbey walls, after the day of watching in the usual custom.’

‘But your physician will be able to report on the manner of his death?’