Chalice of Blood

request. Isn’t that date only a few days before Brother Donnchad was killed?’

The scriptor flushed, apparently embarrassed at nearly missing the entry. ‘Indeed, I believe it was a week before he died.’

‘Contra Celsum? What is that?’ asked Eadulf.

‘Arguments against Celsus; he was a pagan writer.’

‘I have to admit, Brother Donnán, that I have never heard of Celsus.’

‘Better that no one hears of him,’ replied the scriptor in disapproval. ‘He was a great opponent of the True Faith. However, Origenes pointed out the error of his ways so that people could see his arguments were false.’

‘And do you have this work here?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Donnán shook his head indignantly. ‘How can you ask if we have the work of Celsus, a pagan, in a Christian library, Sister? For shame.’

‘I meant the work of Origenes, the work that Brother Donnchad requested.’ Fidelma chose not to point out that most libraries were filled with the works of Greeks and Latins who had lived long before the coming of the Faith.

‘We do — or rather we did. The abbey at Ard Mór requested that we lend them the copy. We frequently exchange books with them. As soon as Brother Donnchad had finished with it, wesent it to the abbey of Ard Mór with someone who was making the journey there.’

‘I wonder why Brother Donnchad would be interested in reading the arguments of Origenes against Celsus?’ She posed the question rhetorically, not expecting an answer.

‘Little is known about Celsus except that he was probably a Greek who lived during the reign of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius.’ The scriptor seem to pride himself on his knowledge of his books and he liked to share it. ‘That is, he lived about two centuries after the birth of the Christ. His main work was called Alethos Logos, which is Greek for The True Word, and he showed himself to be an implacable opponent of the Christians. He tried to ridicule Christians for what he claimed was their advocacy of blind faith instead of reason.’

Fidelma stirred uncomfortably. In the many years that she had served both the law of the Fénechus as well as the Faith, she had always been uncomfortable when her questions could not be answered. On every difficult question she was told one simply had to have faith; one had to believe and not question the belief. She wondered what Origenes had argued if Celsus had brought up similar questions.

‘And what do you know of the book Contra Celsum?’

‘I have not read it.’

‘A pity,’ sighed Eadulf. ‘And you never had a copy of Celsus’s original work? If you had the refutation, it surely would be logical to have a copy of what it refuted.’

‘Brother Donnchad made the very same point,’ replied Brother Donnán. ‘As I have said, our library is filled only with books by the faithful. Indeed, Brother Lugna now insists on obedience to this rule. I was told to discard the works of any that are critical of the Faith.’

‘Sometimes one learns and receives strength by studyingthe arguments of those of contrary opinion,’ Fidelma said. ‘Do we know what matters Celsus raised that needed to be refuted?’

‘The important thing is that we know he was wrong,’ said Brother Donnán with a pious air.

‘But how do we know that?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Donnán looked shocked. ‘Because Origenes tells us it is so.’

Fidelma sighed softly but did not bother to pursue the argument.

‘Did Brother Donnchad mention why he was researching this work?’

‘He was never much of a conversationalist, unlike his brother Cathal. Cathal was always the talkative one but Donnchad was very introspective, and preferred his own company or that of the simpleton.’

‘Simpleton?’ Eadulf’s tone was sharp.

‘Brother Gáeth,’ the scriptor said, unabashed. ‘He is a field worker who can barely write his own name. You will meet him no doubt and will be able to judge for yourself.’

Fidelma shot a warning glance at Eadulf who was obviously about to admit to their discussion with Brother Gáeth.

‘But he was Brother Donnchad’s anam chara,’ she pointed out.

‘That was before he went on his pilgrimage,’ replied the scriptor. ‘Anyway, Brother Donnchad had no need of such a soul friend.’

‘Do you know if the brethren ever discussed why Brother Donnchad became reclusive?’ she asked, ignoring the remark.

Brother Donnán hesitated before lifting one shoulder and letting it fall to signal his lack of knowledge. ‘I do not listen to gossip.’

‘Yet sometimes gossip leads to truth,’ Fidelma encouraged.

‘I would not know,’ the scriptor replied. Then, realising they were waiting for him to make some further reply to the question,he added, ‘Some said that he was not right in the mind because of the hardships encountered on his journey. Others opined that he felt abandoned by his elder brother Cathal because he remained behind, having been offered the pallium of some foreign city.’

‘But what did you think?’

Brother Donnán was reflective. ‘To be truthful, I thought he had become a little crazy.’

‘In what way?’

‘He became furtive, secretive, felt people were hatching plots against him or about to rob him of things. I heard that he demanded a lock to the door of his cubiculum — a lock and key!’ The scriptor raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Now I realise that perhaps he wasn’t so crazy after all because of the manner of his death. But I thought at the time that his fears were part of his dementia.’

‘As you say, now that he has been murdered, perhaps he wasn’t so crazy,’ Eadulf commented.

The scriptor remained silent.

‘We are told that he brought back manuscripts from his travels and other artefacts,’ said Fidelma. ‘Precious manuscripts.’

Brother Donnán smiled and turned to her eagerly. ‘I was looking forward to seeing them. I heard there were some valuable manuscripts which our library could take a pride in owning.’

‘But you have not seen them?’

‘Brother Donnchad, as I have said, was scared of someone stealing them and so kept them in his cubiculum.’

‘So he did not deposit any of his manuscripts with the library?’

Brother Donnán shook his head. ‘Not since his return from the pilgrimage.’

‘And the artefacts,’ Eadulf said. ‘Who were they given to?’

‘He brought back a sliver of the True Cross, of course. That is now in the recess of the altar in our chapel.’

‘Anything else?’

‘I think he brought some gifts for his mother Lady Eithne. One was a lovely ornate cross from the east. The jewels are magnificent. When he presented them at the fortress …’ The scriptor suddenly hesitated.

‘You were there?’ prompted Fidelma.

‘I have visited several times to take manuscripts to Lady Eithne,’ admitted the librarian.

‘Brother Donnchad used to visit his mother, then?’

‘Her fortress is not far from here. You passed it on the road that crosses The Great River before you turn along it westward to the abbey.’

‘I know it,’ said Fidelma quickly. ‘So you saw him recently at his mother’s fortress?’

Brother Donnán shook his head. ‘He went to pay his respects to his mother the day after he arrived back. That was early summer. I think he spent several days with her before returning to the abbey. It was a coincidence that I was there at the time.’

‘He was not there more recently?’