Chalice of Blood

the Fénechus to the level where you were able to successfully defend me when I was unjustly charged with murder. Who of importance in this kingdom has not shown you respect? My brother, the King, respects you, as does the nobility of Muman. Abbot Ségdae of Imleach respects you, and so do most of the religious of Muman. Indeed, even the High King himself knows and respects your abilities.’

Eadulf was silent for a moment.

‘I suppose,’ he said uncertainly, ‘I sometimes feel that I am not respected by the one person I really want respect from.’

Fidelma looked long and hard at him and there was suddenly a brightness in her eyes.

‘For that I am truly sorry. I know I must try to curb my temper, yet I cannot change my life or my ambition. I have explained many times that my cousin, Abbot Laisran, acted for my benefit when he told me to join the community at Cill Dara. It seemed a good idea at the time but I soon discovered it was not. For some time, because I was young and inexperienced, I did not know what path I should take. But finally, I know what I should do. My whole being is involved with law and the administration of justice. Not pursuing this will mean the death of my soul. No sacrifice that involves me giving this up is possible.’

‘Do you regret your time with me, as you regret your time in the community at Cill Dara?’ asked Eadulf.

Fidelma shook her head vehemently. ‘It tortures me, Eadulf, to think that we have come so far along our path in life together and may not continue on. I do not want to lose you. You will forever be my soul mate, my anam chara, and if you go, my soul will die. But if I am constrained from doing what I need to do in life to be fully alive, my heart will die. So what is my choice?’

He did not know how to answer or, indeed, how to sort out the thoughts that crowded into his mind.

‘What would you do in a religious community, Eadulf?’ Fidelma pressed when he did not answer.

‘In a religious community there is security.’

‘Security?’ Fidelma actually chuckled. ‘Look at this community and at the many communities to which we have been called when our talents are needed. Little security here, I’m afraid.’

Eadulf found himself smiling for it did seem a contradictory thing to say.

‘I mean in terms of position,’ he added, ‘of putting food on the table.’

‘Have we not security enough in Cashel? Are not our talents in demand far and wide? One day, we find ourselves summoned to Tara to investigate the death of the High King; another day our path takes us to Autun in Burgundia to advise at a council. Now, here we are in Lios Mór, where our talents are required yet again. Who knows where our footsteps may take us? But let us remember the saying from Horace — vestigia nulla retrorsum — no steps backwards. We have much to do to finish this investigation and once we have, I swear we will talk about our future. We know what we each want; we must see if we can reconcile our wants to some compatibility of purpose and, of course, the welfare of our son.’

Eadulf forced a wan smile. ‘Very well. And let me also quote Horace, as advice for both of us: ira furor brevis est: animum rege: qui nisi imperat.’

Fidelma laid a hand on his arm. ‘Well considered, Eadulf. Anger is a momentary madness, so we shall both control it before it controls us. And now I think it is time to return to the guesthouse and prepare for the evening meal.’

She turned and was leading the way from the chapel steps when she halted abruptly, causing Eadulf to cannon into her.

‘Eadulf, I think you have made an excellent suggestion.’ She turned excitedly.

He stared at her in bewilderment.

‘About controlling anger?’ he asked.

‘Is there not a saying, in anger there is truth?’

‘I have never heard it,’ he replied.

‘Then perhaps we shall invent it.’ She suddenly gave that mischievous grin that he had fallen in love with. ‘I have an idea …’

Before she could explain, they were hailed by Gormán who was crossing the quadrangle and had spied them.

‘I was looking for you,’ he announced as he came up to them.

‘Is anything the matter?’ inquired Fidelma, observing the excitement in the warrior’s expression.

‘I’ve been chatting with the echaire, the stableman, about the builders,’ he said.

‘Haven’t you heard enough about builders after Glassán’s eloquence the other night?’ Eadulf had reacquired his sense of humour.

‘In fact, it was Glassán we were chatting about. Did you know that Brother Echen is originally from Laighin?’

‘We did not,’ responded Fidelma solemnly, ‘but it is good to know that he has an appropriate name for a stableman.’ Echen meant a ‘steed’.

Gormán ignored her humour and went on, ‘It seems that his cousin is actually the táisech scuir, the man in charge of the King of Laighin’s stables.’

‘There is a point to this?’ Fidelma pressed gently.

‘Of course. Did you know that Glassán was of the degree of ollamh?’

An ollamh was the highest degree in any of the professions within the Five Kingdoms.

‘I am only surprised that he neglected to tell us,’ Fidelma said wryly. ‘He was quite eloquent about his merits and the merits of his profession. It seems perfectly reasonable for the abbey to employ a master builder of his degree.’

Gormán smiled without humour. ‘Well, it might surprise you to know that our friend, Glassán, was once master builder to the King of Laighin.’

‘Was?’ queried Eadulf. ‘I did not think that master builders to kings resigned their office unless they retired. And he is not old enough to retire from such a position.’

‘He does not have to have left that position,’ Fidelma corrected quickly. ‘Usually the ollamh builder is employed indirect service to the King, and answers to him for a fixed annual payment of seven cumals, equivalent to the value of twenty-one milch cows. However, he is also permitted to exercise his art for general commissions from members of the public. He has probably taken on this work as extra to his service to the King of Laighin. Although, I grant, it does seem odd that he has crossed into the kingdom of Muman for employment.’

Gormán was shaking his head. ‘You are wrong, lady. Brother Eadulf raises a good question. Brother Echen grew quite loquacious after I shared a flagon of korma with him. He was told, by his own brother, who serves the King of Laighin, something that is quite interesting about Glassán.’

‘I wish you would get to the point of this tale,’ Fidelma said irritably. Then she glanced at Eadulf, grimaced and added, ‘If you don’t mind.’

‘Simply that some years ago Glassán was dismissed from the service of the King of Laighin’s in disgrace. It turned out that he had been asked to construct and oversee the work of a guest hostel at the fortress residence of some relation to the King. It was badly constructed and the roof fell in, killing several people, including one of the builders.’

Eadulf whistled silently and then glanced nervously at the chapel behind them.

‘What happened?’ Fidelma was now interested.

‘He was taken before the King’s Brehon. It was argued that, while his task had been the design of the building, and he should have been there to oversee its construction, he had not actually followed through. He had left the work to an assistant who had not placed the supports correctly or strongly enough.’

‘So was he judged responsible?’

‘On the contrary, it was his responsibility to have overseenthe building at every stage. While the assistant had to pay the bereaved families the honour price of the persons killed, Glassán himself was deemed culpable and had to pay court fines to the King and was stripped of his rank of ollamh.’

‘Yet he is here rebuilding this abbey,’ breathed Eadulf in amazement.

‘Does your friend, Brother Echen, know how this came about?’ asked Fidelma.