The Devil's Seal (35 page)

‘It is an interesting point,’ he added in justification.

Fidelma finally turned to him. ‘Interesting? It is a very important question that needs an answer.’

‘Do you really think that Vitalian would give the primacy to someone who offered him money?’

‘No, I don’t,’ replied Fidelma, to his immediate disappointment. ‘Nevertheless, it still remains a good question. Why
did
Sister Dianaimh carry all that money? What did she hope to achieve with it? To buy something? But what?’

Eadulf uttered a sigh. ‘I am beginning to think that our friend Deogaire was right.’

‘How so?’

‘That this deputation – and he did describe it as a deputation from the east – has been sent by the devil. So far, it has brought four deaths, including this mysterious Victricius – eight if you count the boatmen.’

‘Plus an attempt to kill us,’ Fidelma reminded him with a wry smile.

She pushed herself away from the wall and stretched. There were clouds in the sky but it was still dry and not too cold for the time of year. She examined the wall where it ran towards the south of the fortress complex.

‘I have an idea,’ she said suddenly, starting to move along the walkway. Eadulf trotted after her. There were one or two sentinels on the walkway who stood back respectfully as they passed. One of them, however, called a warning.

‘Be careful of the south-west corner, lady. That’s where the stones crumbled. The builders are still at work there with their scaffolding.’

She raised her hand in acknowledgement. It was precisely to that point she was heading, cursing herself for not having remembered it before.

A mason was at work dressing a stone down on the scaffolding as they came up. Seeing them approaching, he stopped working with his hammer and chisel and saluted them.

‘Have a care, lady,’ he said politely. ‘It is dangerous here.’

‘I shall be careful,’ Fidelma assured him. She leaned forward cautiously and peered down through the wooden structure that went all the way to the ground. There were several workmen below, cutting and hoisting stones to repair the wall which had been damaged in a rock-slip.

‘Is it easy to come up and down that way?’ she asked.

‘Bless you, lady, it’s very easy to the trained. That is our job.’

‘What if one was not skilled – could it still be done? I see ladders in place. Are they always there?’

‘The ladders are lashed to the structure, lady, for security. It would be timewasting to keep removing them and replacing them each day. Already the steward of your household is chiding us about the length of time it is taking to finish. But we are working as quickly as we can.’

‘So they are there during the night?’

‘They are so. But you need have no fear of an enemy attack from here, lady.’ The man chuckled at the idea. ‘The structure is easily defended from the wall.’

‘But anyone could climb up or down without any skill?’

‘There’s no skill in climbing a ladder, lady.’

Fidelma turned to Eadulf with a smile. ‘I think we might have resolved one more question,’ she said in an undertone before turning back to the stonemason. ‘I am going to climb down,’ she announced. ‘I want to test how easy it is.’

The man was astounded. ‘But, lady, we cannot afford it if you slip or have some accident.’

‘If anything happens, Eadulf is witness that I make this climb of my own volition and you are absolved from making any recompense if I injure myself.’

Without a further word, she swung over the wall and, gripping the wooden supports of the structure, lowered herself to the first platform where the stonemason was working. With the astonished man still mumbling protests, she trod carefully over to the first ladder. Eadulf, having stifled his own protests, gave a groan and he, too, swung after her. At the third ladder, she paused and reached forward to where the wood was splintered. Several strands of dyed wool had been caught on the jagged edge. She picked them off carefully. They were of the same material as might be used in a religious robe.

It was a quick and easy descent, from each ladder to each platform and so on, until they had reached the bottom and were gazing up towards the towering walls of her brother’s fortress. As Eadulf, sweating and nervous, joined her, Fidelma was standing with a satisfied smile on her face. Puzzled workmen were standing nearby, gazing astonished at their unexpected descent.

‘So now we know how Sister Dianaimh could have secretly left the fortress without the necessity of coming through the gates!’ she exclaimed in triumph. She showed the strands of wool to Eadulf. ‘I will wager with you that when we examine the robe that Sister Dianaimh was wearing, we will find a match.’

‘I would have believed you without the need for a practical demonstration,’ Eadulf replied glumly. Then he glanced over his shoulder. ‘It is certainly an easy walk from here to Rumann’s inn. But that would mean she was going to meet someone there.’

‘I believe she
was
going to meet someone,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Someone she knew and with whom she was—’

‘Going to negotiate a payment with the sack of coins?’ Eadulf interrupted.

‘Well, she did not carry them with her,’ Fidelma pointed out, ‘but I think I am beginning to see some light in this dark matter.’ And before Eadulf could say anything further, she added brightly: ‘Well, do you prefer to walk round to the main gate and surprise our guards, or would you like to climb back up?’

Eadulf screwed up his face as if in agony. ‘I would willingly walk three times around The Rock than climb back up those ladders,’ he replied in a tone of fervour.

They turned and began to walk along in the shadow of the citadel towards the main gate.

‘Having discovered how Sister Dianaimh could leave the palace without being seen,’ Eadulf speculated, ‘there is another thought that occurs to me.’

‘Which is?’ Fidelma asked in high good humour.

‘If it was easy for her to leave, it was just as easy for someone else to gain entrance.’

It was a thought that had already occurred to Fidelma but she gave a quick nod. ‘I will tell my brother that he should have a guard permanently mounted there,’ she said quietly.

B
rother Conchobhar was working in his apothecary and looked up with a welcoming smile as Fidelma and Eadulf entered.

‘I received your message,’ he greeted them. ‘I’ve checked my missing medications and it seems that Deogaire took the correct ones for the conditions you described. I plan to check on her condition as soon as I can.’

‘Then Eadulf and I will join you,’ Fidelma told himself, ‘as it will be interesting to see this woman.’

‘Meanwhile, I have some news for you – so I am glad you came by,’ went on the old man. They detected a suppressed excitement in his tone. ‘It is about that band of lambswool. The Keeper of Books finally found a reference to it which confirmed what we had thought: a generation or more ago, it was worn by all the bishops when they performed the rites of the Mass. It then dropped out of use in the churches of the Five Kingdoms as we set more store by our abbots.’

Fidelma’s face fell. ‘Nothing more?’

Brother Conchobhar’s smile broadened. ‘He also told me that it was called a
pallium
but that its symbolism has changed in the last hundred years or so. The Bishop of Rome, the one they called Gregory, ordered that it could only be worn by bishops of special rank. He wrote to Bishop John of Ravenna nearly a century ago about pastoral rules and mentioned what it symbolised. It is now a symbol given by the Bishop of Rome only to those appointed as Chief Bishops or Archbishops. Its use is limited. No one else is allowed to wear it without the approval of the Bishop of Rome.’

‘You mean that it was used only by an Archbishop such as Theodore of Canterbury?’ asked Eadulf in astonishment.

‘It is apparently the symbol of the new Roman power, to be worn as a liturgical vestment only in the church and during the Divine Mass unless otherwise authorised by the Bishop of Rome,’ confirmed the old apothecary. ‘Our Keeper of Books remembered that he had seen some such reference to its change of use. Apparently we have a copy of that book of pastoral rules in our
tech screpta
.’

‘So this
pallium
is a symbol of an Archbishop . . .’ Fidelma considered the implications.

‘If Rudgal had stolen it in the attack on the river, what does it mean?’ Brother Conchobhar asked. ‘Was it being brought to a bishop here? The churches of the Five Kingdoms recognise no Chief Bishop over them. Bishops are subordinate to abbots among our churches.’

‘This is what the Venerable Verax’s deputation is discussing,’ Eadulf explained. ‘Apparently, Abbot Ségéne of Ard Macha has petitioned Rome, making the claim for Ard Macha to be the primacy of all the churches in the Five Kingdoms because the abbey was founded by Patricius. This deputation must have come to ask the views of the abbots and bishops before Ségéne was presented with this
pallium
.’

‘Hardly likely,’ Fidelma declared.

‘Patricius preferred to work at the Abbey of Dún Phádraig, the Fortress of Patricius, where he died and is buried,’ pointed out Brother Conchobhar. ‘Even by citing Patricius, their claim falls.’

‘If Rome has sent the
pallium
into the Five Kingdoms as the answer to the claim of Ard Macha, why would an emissary from the Bishop of Rome come to Cashel bearing this symbol of authority? Why not travel directly to Ard Macha?’ Fidelma asked.

‘Could this
pallium
be meant for Abbot Ségdae? That Imleach and not Ard Macha was to be recognised?’ Brother Conchobhar wondered.

Fidelma regarded both men with an expression akin to sadness. ‘I am afraid that you are overlooking several important facts. Firstly, how did we come by this
pallium
?’

‘It was hidden on the body of Rudgal, a robber, who knew its value because he was going to use it to bargain for his freedom,’ Eadulf replied promptly.

‘And how did Rudgal acquire it?’

‘Why, from the Venerable Victricius when Rudgal and his robbers attacked their boat and—’

‘And who
was
Victricius? Brother Bosa claims he was a thief without any right to be called a priest of any sort.’

Eadulf thought about it. ‘If so, was Egric his accomplice – or was he duped? My brother said he met Victricius in Canterbury and was employed by him as a translator and companion. He says he was informed that Victricius was on a mission from Theodore, but was never told what it was. Who should I believe?’

‘If we do not believe what Brother Bosa says, then we must assume that he – indeed, this entire Saxon deputation – are not who they say they are.’

Eadulf was silent as he considered the alternatives.

‘Another point,’ went on Fidelma. ‘Why would Rudgal know the symbolism of this item when we did not? To most people, it is merely a piece of lambswool, a band or even a scarf. Only certain people would recognise the importance of the
pallium
. To those few, this piece of lambswool might well seem valuable enough to make a man rich – if he knew how to trade for it. Do you really think that Rudgal would have such knowledge?’

Just at that moment, the door of the apothecary opened abruptly and Enda came in. The warrior’s face was tense.

‘Forgive me,’ he said to them. ‘I was told Eadulf was here.’

‘I am here. What is it, Enda?’ Eadulf said, turning towards him.

‘Brother Berrihert from Eatharlach is at the gates and demands to see you immediately.’

Eadulf was surprised. Three years ago, he had helped Berrihert and his two brothers, Pecanum and Naovan – all brothers in blood as well as in religion – settle in the great Valley of Eatharlach among the Uí Cuileann clan. He had known Berrihert at Streonshalh. After Oswy’s fateful decision to follow Roman rites, Bishop Colmán, rather than change his religious allegiance, had gathered all those who continued to adhere to the teachings of Colmcille, and taken them, first to the kingdom of the Britons called Rheged, then on to his own land of Connachta. Berrihert, with his two brothers, eventually sought out the peace and tranquillity of Eatharlach where Miach, chieftain of the Uí Cuileann, had accepted them into the valley after Eadulf had vouched for them.

‘What does
he
want?’ Eadulf asked in surprise. ‘He and his brothers hardly ever leave the valley.’

Enda’s voice was troubled. ‘Whatever it is, I think it bodes ill. He came on horseback.’

‘Is it so unusual to see a religieux on horseback?’ Fidelma wondered at the comment.

‘The horse that he is riding is the same one which Dego was riding the other day,’ Enda replied grimly. ‘I recognised it. I asked him how he came by it, but he just demanded that I fetch you at once.’

Eadulf was already out of the door. After swiftly advising Brother Conchobhar to keep the
pallium
hidden in a secure place, Fidelma hurried after him. They found Brother Berrihert, still covered in dust from his journey, standing by Dego’s horse in the courtyard. He lost no time in polite salutations.

‘I have ridden without stop from Eatharlach, Brother Eadulf, with news that you and your friends here should know.’ The man paused to clear his throat as his voice was cracking with dryness. Enda immediately fetched the man a beaker of water; Brother Berrihert drained it in gigantic gulps before handing the vessel back. ‘Sorry, lady,’ he said to Fidelma. ‘I am unused to such exertions.’ Then, before she could reply, he hastened on: ‘Yesterday, I found this horse wandering loose. It was still saddled and was grazing on the lower slopes of An Starracín.’