Chalice of Blood

‘Know him? We are too busy to socialise with the brethren here, even if they were sociable.’ He grinned at his quip. No one laughed.

‘Twenty seds is a large sum, indeed,’ observed Eadulf, filling the awkward silence.

‘Small compensation for the many years of study and apprenticeship, as in all arts and crafts,’ pointed out Glassán in an almost defensive manner. ‘There is a lot of responsibility in superintending the construction of these buildings, and one has to be a master in many different things, stonemasonry, carpentry …’ He suddenly shot a condescending look at his quiet companion. ‘Thankfully, Saor here takes many onerous tasks from my shoulders. He is my chief assistant.’

‘But if you are building in stone, surely you need stonemasons rather than carpenters,’ queried Gormán.

Saor’s chin came up defensively and he spoke for the first time. ‘Even with stone work, wooden frames must be made and carpentry must be employed,’ he announced with a tone of annoyance.

‘Of course.’ Glassán smiled, regaining the conversation. It was clear that he was enthusiastic about his craft and not loath to expand on the problems and skill that faced him and the rest of his team of workmen. As master builder, Glassán was provided with accommodation in the guesthouse, while his assistant and his workmen lived outside the abbey, along the river bank, in a collection of huts they had erected for the purpose. For the rest of the meal he continued to talk of the problems of replacing some of the wooden structures of the abbey with buildings of stone. He had a habit of talking in a low droning tone, almost without stopping, so that there was little dialogue.

Gormán’s expression quickly took on a slightly glazed look, as if he had shut off his mind from Glassán’s interminable details and technical explanations. Throughout, the thin-faced Saor, sat in almost moody silence, apart from one or two muttered comments. At the end of the meal, Fidelma and Eadulf rose hurriedly, thankful to be able to escape.

Outside her chamber, in the tech-oíged, or guesthouse, Fidelma turned apologetically to Eadulf.

‘I did not mean to embarrass you earlier about our accommodation, ’ she said softly. ‘But there are many things we must discuss in case we fall back into old habits which are no good for either of us.’

‘I understand,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘I realise that it is your brother who is trying to mend fences; it was not your doing to bring me back to Cashel.’

‘It is not that I regret his interference, Eadulf,’ Fidelma said quickly. ‘I welcome it as a means whereby we might try to rebuild our relationship on a better footing. I am firm in my resolve to pursue the course I have set myself. I would be a hypocrite to do otherwise. How that will square with whatever else must be taken into consideration … well, we must talk more clearly when there are no other problems to distract our thoughts.’

‘Agreed,’ Eadulf replied with a smile. ‘Let us give our minds completely to the current problem.’

She answered his smile. Then said, ‘Gormán made a good point this evening.’

‘You mean his ability to switch off his mind while our builder friend was chattering on,’ Eadulf observed wryly. ‘I swear the man did not even pause to eat his food, yet his plate was clean at the end of the meal. How did he talk and eat at the same time?’

‘That is not what I meant.’ She laughed. ‘I meant the point he made about the abbey being rich to embark on all this new building work.’

‘That observation was made before. Many communities are building and expanding. Why not Lios Mór?’

‘As you know, Lios Mór was only established a little overthirty years ago, Eadulf. It was levelled and fenced in with the members of the community building it with their own hands. They sought no help from outside. The material was the timber from the surrounding woods. The community have barely had time to establish themselves, let alone start to rebuild from stone.’

‘I have seen many communities in the Five Kingdoms putting up buildings of stone,’ Eadulf pointed out.

‘Usually in the west where stone is more easily accessible than wood,’ replied Fidelma. ‘But here, wood is plenty and varied. I know that the community is expanding, but to bring in a professional builder and his men is surprising. Glassán was right when he said that the law lays down strict rules, regulations and fees for professional builders and craftsmen. If the community here can afford to pay those rates, it means they have the finances to do so. How have they achieved such wealth in so short a time?’

‘Perhaps Glassán and his men are donating their work to the Faith,’ suggested Eadulf.

‘You heard him speak of his fees. I don’t think he will forgo them for the sake of the Faith.’

‘Well, perhaps that is something we should ask Abbot Iarnla about.’

Fidelma nodded absently. ‘Anyway, we have more to concern us than how the abbey has raised the means to pay craftsmen to construct stone buildings.’ She opened the door of her chamber, then turned back to him with a smile. ‘Sleep well, Eadulf. We have much to do in the morning.’

For a moment Eadulf stood gazing moodily at the closed door. Then with a deep sigh he turned and walked slowly to his own allotted chamber.

If Fidelma was so convinced of her future, Eadulf knew that difficult times lay ahead for him. There would be no easyreconciliation, no easy getting back together, as it seemed Fidelma’s brother had hoped.

Eadulf lay down on the straw palliasse of the wooden framed cot and drew a blanket over himself, but it was a long time before sleep came to him.

CHAPTER SIX

The next morning the sky was cloudless and the sun bright.

‘It is going to be a hot day,’ announced Brother Lugna, moodily, after he had greeted Fidelma and Eadulf. They had just emerged from the refectorium, where they had taken a light breakfast.

‘In that case, we should avail ourselves of the early morning freshness to begin at once,’ Fidelma replied.

They had emerged to a cacophony of sound at odds with the usual meditative quiet of an abbey. They could hear the ringing of hammers on stone, the grating of wood being sawn and the harsh shouts of men issuing instructions.

‘That’s the building work,’ explained Brother Lugna. ‘The disturbance of our peace is but a small penance for the reconstruction of the abbey into a monument that will last forever.’

He led them across the stone-flagged quadrangle, past the tipra, the small fresh-water fountain splashing in a basin carved from limestone. Facing them on the eastern side of the quadrangle was the large three-storey stone building which contained Brother Donnchad’s cell. Brother Lugna told them that the cubicula, or individual cells, of all the senior members of the community would eventually be housed in the building.

‘So it is a very new building,’ Fidelma commented, observing the still immaculately polished stonework.

‘Less than a year old,’ Brother Lugna agreed. ‘It was the second of the new buildings to be finished. The first, of course, was our chapel. I regret that the tech-oíged, the guesthouse, will be the last building to be replaced in stone as it is the least important of the complex. But I hope the current building is comfortable enough for you.’

Fidelma wondered whether there was some humour behind his words. But she did not think that Brother Lugna was given to humour.

‘Comfortable enough,’ replied Fidelma. ‘So comfortable that I wonder why the abbey should spend so much on replacing buildings that are well built and still fairly new anyway?’

‘It is the ambition of the abbey that Lios Mór should become one of the greatest centres of the Faith and of learning not only in the Five Kingdoms but beyond the seas as well. The abbey of Darú claims that this year they have attracted pious students from eighteen different nations. To achieve our ambition it was decided that our buildings should reflect our abilities. Great structures of stone will last longer than poor buildings