The Devil's Seal (13 page)

For a moment or two, Eadulf, with crimson face, was unsure what to do.

‘I see and hear you, child,’ Egric said irritably, clearly understanding the comment. ‘Remember that a sweet voice does not injure the teeth.’

Eadulf compressed his lips as the old saying of his people tripped from his brother’s tongue – a condemnation of the boy’s manners. It was clear the meeting was not a success. He had never thought his brother would be so stiff and unfriendly towards his son. It was obvious that the child sensed it.

Muirgen suddenly came bustling forward. It was clear that she had heard the exchange and felt she should intervene.

‘Time to take the little one to his morning game of
fidchell
,’ she announced.
Fidchell
, or ‘wooden wisdom’, was a popular board game played throughout the Five Kingdoms. Alchú was proving himself very adept at it.

Eadulf gave her a glance of both relief and thanks then took his younger brother by the arm and guided him from the chamber. Egric was silent as they walked through the corridors of the fortress, avoiding the rainswept exteriors. It was curious how much of a stranger Eadulf now felt with his brother. The intervening years seemed to have severed them emotionally as well as by experience.

‘Things have changed quite a lot over the years, Egric,’ Eadulf finally said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

‘No man remains the same as they grow older,’ replied his brother.

‘I never thought that you would enter the religious. You always wanted to be a warrior. Our father named you Egric after the Warrior King of our people.’

‘I remember King Egric and his brother Sigebert. They were both killed in battle when the Mercians invaded our land. Sigebert was killed even though he had spent years in a monastery and went on the battlefield alongside his brother with only a staff in his hand.’

‘I can hardly remember that, but I remember the years when Ana became King, and that was after Sigebert and Egric were killed.’

‘I should say, then, that I do remember the stories,’ explained Egric, a little on the defensive. ‘I remember Ana driving the Mercians out of our land. We became powerful then. Why, even Cenwealh of the West Saxons sought asylum in our land when the Mercians threw him out of his own kingdom.’

‘Surely you were too young to remember all that?’ Eadulf was astonished.

Egric smiled thinly. ‘I remember a lot, brother. I was old enough to remember when we received news that Ana, too, had been killed in battle against the Mercians. That was the day I decided that I should be a warrior.’

‘You were only about thirteen years old.’

‘I was. But I recall those dark days when the Mercian King, Penda, was overlord of the East Angles. He was a godless tyrant.’

‘Penda lived and died a pagan,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘But we all, at that time, followed the old gods until the word of the New Faith came to us.’

‘Oswy of Northumbria challenged Mercia in the rain and mud of Winwaed where Penda perished,’ Egric continued enthusiastically. ‘We were free again and Athelwold seized our kingdom back, driving out the remaining Mercians and their placemen. The God of Battles was with us! They were great days, Eadulf. Do you remember them?’

For a moment, Egric had become animated and the light of excitement glowed in his eyes. Eadulf wondered whether to point out that his tone hardly reflected a religious calling.

‘Of course,’ he replied quietly. ‘I was older than you.’

‘So you remember how we went with our father to the great court of King Athelwold at Rendel’s Ham?’

Eadulf sighed at the memory. ‘And how we ran off on our own to see the royal burial site nearby, a place where only members of the royal line were allowed to enter, to witness the ancient rituals?’

‘They were thrilling times, Eadulf.’

‘Soon after that, I left Seaxmund’s Ham to pursue my studies. I came here to the Five Kingdoms as directed by Fursa.’

‘You abandoned the role of
gerefa
, which should have been yours when our father perished.’ Did Eadulf hear a rebuke in the voice of his younger brother?

Eadulf shrugged. ‘Learning from him something of the role of a lawgiver has stood me in good stead. What he gave me has not been abandoned. But when I left Seaxmund’s Ham to pursue the Faith, why didn’t
you
take on the role?’

Egric laughed sharply. ‘Me? A
gerefa
, a lawgiver? I was still pursuing the dream of being a warrior defending our people. You left our village – did you ever go back?’

‘A few times. I was even a witness at Rendel’s Ham when King Swithhelm of the East Saxons converted to the New Faith and was baptised at the royal court there, with Athelwold acting as his godfather. That was when I asked what had become of you. I attended the Council at Streonshalh and then I returned to Rome in the company of Wighard, the archbishop-designate of Canterbury. He had gone there to receive the blessing of the Bishop of Rome. He was murdered there and it was Fidelma and I who helped resolve that.’

‘And you never returned to our home after that?’

‘Once more. Do you remember my old friend, Botulf? He, too, converted to the Faith and went to serve at the Abbey of Aldred. Five years ago, Fidelma and I went to see Archbishop Theodore at Canterbury, and while there, we received a message from poor Botolf. He wanted to see me urgently. We went to the Abbey of Aldred, but arrived too late. Botulf had been murdered and we had to discover the culprit. Thankfully, the forest around Rendel’s Ham proved a sanctuary for Fidelma and me when we were in danger of our lives. That was the last time I enquired for you.’

‘And what were you told?’

‘People who remembered you assumed that you had gone away to serve as a warrior in the King’s army. A local farmer, Mul . . .’

‘Mul? Mad Mul of Frig’s Tun?’ Egric chuckled. ‘He never would convert to the New Faith! He swore that he had followed Woden all his life and would never change his allegiance.’

‘That was he,’ confirmed Eadulf. ‘He remembered me, but didn’t remember you converting to the Faith.’

Egric shrugged. ‘I did not stay in Seaxmund’s Ham after I decided to follow the Faith, nor did I return as you did. But you say that you have not been there for five years now?’

Eadulf shook his head. ‘I am settled here and happy.’

Egric was cynical. ‘Truly happy? A foreigner in a strange land?’

‘I am accepted,’ Eadulf replied defensively. ‘My wife is here, my son is here. I have friends. Is that not enough?’

‘There is no longing in you to see the places of your childhood and youth?’

‘Those places remain in the memory only. It cannot be otherwise, for the motion of the days continue and things must change with them. Is it not said that there are no footsteps that go backwards?’

‘Perhaps,’ Egric said softly. ‘But if that is what you want, brother, so be it. I mean no insult to your decision. It is just strange to meet up after so many years and find our life paths have diverged so widely. In spite of all, I trust you are happy.’

‘It seems our paths have not diverged so widely. You have also become a religieux. Also, oddly, you seem to have grasped some of the tongue of these people in your travels and, indeed, here you are in Cashel. A curious coincidence.’

‘It is a coincidence nevertheless,’ his brother said curtly.

Eadulf paused to glance out of a window. The rain had ceased. It was still cloudy but the clouds were lighter in shade and beginning to move quickly as the wind gathered strength.

‘Alas, I have matters to attend to, Egric. I will introduce you to one of the King’s bodyguards, a warrior called Dego. He was one of those who found you on the river. He will show you the township below the palace and explain something about this place and its history since you are a newcomer.’

The truth was that Eadulf had no matters to attend to. He felt guilty that he had suddenly made the excuse to leave his brother’s company and tried to reason why. Of course, it was easy to explain that the great changes in Egric since Eadulf had last seen him were a cause for the alien feelings that now caused him unease. The eager young man, who enjoyed life, had an ambition to be a warrior – albeit as all young men do at a certain age – who enjoyed the company of girls, feasts and dancing, seemed to have vanished. Eadulf was not sure he liked the surly self-contained man with his unfriendly look and his open condemnation of Eadulf’s chosen lifestyle. Yesterday, Eadulf had been happy to find his long-lost brother. Now he was trying to avoid his company.

Later, Eadulf met Fidelma crossing the main courtyard.

‘You look troubled,’ she greeted him.

‘And you look as though you have a problem,’ he said in an attempt at a light-hearted deflection of his thoughts.

Fidelma decided the matter in hand should have priority. ‘Yesterday, it seemed no one saw anyone near the chapel, yet now we have several sightings. I find that strange.’

‘I told you that I saw old Brother Conchobhar and Deogaire,’ Eadulf pointed out.

‘But now we have Abbess Líoch and an unknown religieux, who might have been Brother Madagan, close to the chapel. Deogaire said he saw Brother Madagan while Sister Dianaimh saw an unknown religieux while she was standing waiting for the abbess inside the gates. It might have been the same person.’

Eadulf raised his eyebrows slightly. ‘I presume that you are still suspicious of the abbess?’

‘I never discount anyone until all the facts are in, Eadulf,’ she replied. ‘I need a word with Brother Madagan. Maybe he can confirm that the unknown religieux was himself.’

‘I saw him enter the main door of the chapel just now.’

‘Excellent. Where is your brother, by the way? I thought you were introducing him to our little Alchú?’

‘I don’t think he is much good with children. I’ve left Alchú with Muirgen and have asked Dego to take Egric to see the township.’

‘Something is wrong, I can tell. What is it?’

‘Let’s say Alchú did not seem too enamoured with his new uncle. Not that the boy was to blame. Egric just seemed awkward. That was all.’ Eadulf did not want to go into his own inexplicable feelings.

‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’ She tried to give him assurance. ‘After all, it must be a shock for him – that is, arriving in the manner he did. His companion killed and then rediscovering his brother after all these years. A brother with a child . . .’

‘And married to the sister of a foreign King,’ Eadulf finished. ‘You think this is why he seems so tense?’

‘I am sure of it. When was the last time you said you saw him?’

‘Over ten years ago.’

‘There you are, then. You cannot expect to regain those lost years in one evening. Give him time. He has much to learn about you, and you about him.’

Eadulf was uncertain for a moment and then he grimaced dismissively. ‘I suppose you are right. Maybe I was expecting too much, too soon.’

‘Indeed,’ she smiled. ‘So, let us now go and find Brother Madagan.’

They made their way across the courtyard to the main entrance of the chapel.

It was dark inside and, of course, the weather did not help with its grey, shadowy clouds. A small lantern lit the entrance beyond the doorway and two candles spluttered on the altar although they did not give out any meaningful light.

Fidelma and Eadulf stood by the entrance waiting until their eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. At first there seemed no one in the chapel. Everything was so still that even the steady beat of raindrops came like the sound of noisy pebbles on the roof above.

‘Brother Madagan?’ called Fidelma softly, her voice echoing in the vaulted tranquillity of the chapel. Her voice came back to her as a soft sighing echo.

At once there came the sound of a throat being cleared. A shadow moved from behind a pillar at the far side of the dark interior.

‘Sister Fidelma?’

The figure was still shrouded in the gloom but they recognised Brother Madagan, the
rechtaire
or steward of Abbot Ségdae, by his voice.

‘But no longer a Sister of the Faith, as you should know,’ replied Fidelma gravely.

‘Forgive me, lady. I had heard that you left the religious to pursue the law more vigorously.’

‘How is your chill, Brother Madagan?’

‘Much improved, lady; though it was sad that I had to miss the meal last night.’ He peered closer towards her. ‘Is that Brother Eadulf with you?’

‘Indeed, it is,’ replied Eadulf, stepping forward.

‘I was going to make myself known to your brother. Where is he?’

‘He has gone to the township in the company of Dego.’

‘I am anxious to hear what happened when he was attacked on the river. I hear a senior cleric of Rome was killed. Has he told you much about it?’

‘Little enough. But didn’t you see him at the funeral last night?’

‘I missed him in the darkness, especially after the intervention of the mad nephew of Brother Conchobhar.’

‘Do you think he is mad?’ intervened Fidelma.

‘It was certainly madness that spoke last night,’ Brother Madagan declared.

‘You mean Deogaire making his prophecy?’ asked Fidelma.

‘That is exactly what I mean,’ confirmed the steward with some vehemence. ‘Sacrilege. The young man should be punished. You know the old saying – woe to him who considers his opinion a certainty! Woe to the bringers of warnings and prophecies!’

‘Is not the Holy Scripture full of warnings and prophecies?’ replied Fidelma gently.

‘Not with sacrilegious pagan nonsense,’ the man snapped.

‘You mean because he used terms from the Holy Scripture?’

‘That he chose a funeral to utter his warning was blasphemous, as it was also disrespectful.’

‘As I recall, discretion was not a virtue with Deogaire. But it is not of him that I wish to speak.’

Brother Madagan sniffed in disapproval. ‘What is it?’

‘Let us sit awhile.’ Fidelma pointed to a bench by the pillar, where light from a window illuminated the area. When they were seated, she went on: ‘I was told you were passing this chapel just before Brother Cerdic’s body was found. Did you see anyone at that time – anyone emerging from the chapel?’