The Devil's Seal (43 page)

‘You may recall that she was never any good at accepting orders, lady,’ Gormán replied glumly. ‘She’s been here several times, demanding to see Deogaire. Of course, I am following your orders, but you would think from her manner that I had turned into some kind of ravening monster.’

‘I am sorry that this has become a problem between you both.’ Fidelma was contrite. ‘However, I think we must hold him one more day. At the moment, there is a task I want you to undertake. I want you to seek out some people, but in a manner whereby they will think that they are meeting you by accident. Above all, they must not know that you have spoken to any of the others.’

Gormán’s eyes brightened. ‘Is this a secret task, lady?’

‘Something like that,’ smiled Fidelma. ‘What I want you to do is spread some gossip. Have you talked to anyone in depth since you came back with Eadulf after the attempted rescue of his brother?’

‘We reported to you and to the King, of course.’

‘But to no one else?’

He shook his head. ‘My duties have kept me busy, lady. But I should think that the King might have told people like Abbot Ségdae what happened.’

‘What happened, yes – but now I want you to remark casually that Eadulf brought back a small leather box. Egric had hidden it but Eadulf recovered it – and being anxious about it, took it straight to Brother Conchobhar who has placed it securely in his apothecary.’

Not only did Gormán look startled, but Eadulf as well.

‘A leather box?’ Gormán ran a hand through his hair trying to understand.

‘It is a ruse,’ Fidelma explained patiently to them. ‘The people you tell must know that the box is in safekeeping with Brother Conchobhar; that it had been in the possession of Eadulf’s brother and that Eadulf is worried about the safety of its contents. Is that understood? Above all, it must appear as if you were confiding only in the individual you speak to.’

‘I don’t understand it, lady.’ But Gormán shrugged and grinned, ‘However, I shall ensure the message is passed on in the form of gossip, as only a warrior sometimes knows how to gossip about things he doesn’t understand. Now, who are the people you want this information to be made known to?’

Brother Eadulf shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the cold floor in the corner of Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary, wishing he could get up and stretch to ease his cramped limbs. Fidelma was similarly seated on the opposite side of the room. He wondered whether old Brother Conchobhar had fallen asleep in his little back room. Then he spared a thought for Gormán, hiding in the shadows of the chapel’s side entrance across the small courtyard that separated the two buildings. It was the only place where he could view the door of the apothecary. It was a night without stars and no trace of moonlight penetrated through the clouds. Eadulf had no conception of the passing of time but was sure it was well after midnight. He was pessimistic that this so-called ruse of Fidelma’s would work.

Time passed. He was just beginning to drift off as natural tiredness overcame him, when he heard a noise and was suddenly wide awake. There was a movement at the side window. He pressed back into the shadows. There was a faint tinkle of breaking glass and the squeak of a catch. He felt the cold night air as the window was opened. Heavy breathing followed, and a grunt, as someone hauled themselves through the opening which, he recalled, was not large but just big enough to take a human.

Now the figure was in the apothecary, standing upright and trying to adjust to the darkness.

‘I was hoping that you would be the first to arrive, Brother Bosa,’ Fidelma’s clear voice rang out.

The man whirled round with a gasp. ‘I am—’ he began.

‘Stay still, do not speak,’ Fidelma ordered in an even voice before calling: ‘Conchobhar!’

The adjoining door at the rear of the apothecary opened and Brother Conchobhar’s voice whispered: ‘Do we have him?’

‘We have our first visitor,’ Fidelma confirmed. ‘Brother Bosa, go with Brother Conchobhar and wait with him quietly until I say so. Oh, and be careful. Brother Conchobhar has in his hand an
altan
– what you would call a sharp surgical knife. Its cut can be painful. So I suggest that you say and do nothing.’

Eadulf was starting to crawl from his hiding place but her voice ordered him to stay where he was. Time passed and he was getting restless again when he heard another sound. Fidelma had insisted that the door of the apothecary be shut and locked to avoid any suspicion, for she had estimated that her adversary would realise the door would be locked. If it had been left unlocked, then it would have looked suspicious – like a trap. There was a scraping of metal on metal, followed by a snapping sound. Eadulf was feeling tense now, peering forward in the darkness.

In spite of the depth of the night, he could make out from the difference in tone when the door opened. Something dark appeared – and then there was complete blackness again. Eadulf presumed that the door had swung shut behind the intruder. There was silence for a moment and then the soft sound of stone on metal as the newcomer tried to light a lamp in the darkness. Then came a flame – and suddenly there was illumination.

Eadulf heard Fidelma rising on the other side of the room and he too stood up, staring with amazement at the figure revealed by the light. Shock registered on their features. This was the last person he had expected to respond to Fidelma’s ruse.

The figure dropped the lamp, which was immediately extinguished, but the door swung open and a tall shadow was blocking it. Gormán’s voice was sharp.

‘There is no escape, so just relax.’

At that moment, the interior door opened and the place was flooded with light again as Brother Conchobhar came in holding high a lantern with one hand and his knife in the other. Briefly, the figure seemed to be trying to decide whether to put up some resistance. Then there came a deep sigh and the shoulders slumped in resignation.

It was mid-morning when King Colgú, on Fidelma’s advice, summoned all those concerned to attend in his council chamber. He sat with the newly appointed young Chief Brehon Fíthel. The latter was gaunt in appearance with sandy, almost frizzy hair and elfin-like features. Yet the first thing one noticed about him was the icy-blue eyes that fixed one with an almost unblinking stare and seemed to penetrate to the very soul. He sat on Colgú’s right side on the dais.

Before them, to the right of the council chamber, sat Fidelma and Eadulf, and beyond them Abbot Ségdae, Abbess Líoch, Brother Madagan and Brother Conchobhar. On the left side of the council chamber, directly opposite them, were the Venerable Verax, Bishop Arwald and Brother Bosa.

Deogaire had been brought from his place of imprisonment and Muiredach, the warrior of Clan Baiscne, had been summoned from Rumann’s inn. They were seated at the far end of the chamber facing the King and Brehon Fíthel. Placed strategically around the chamber were Gormán, Enda, Aidan and Luan, the senior warriors of the King’s bodyguard.

The air of expectancy was palpable.

Having ascertained that everyone was in their correct places, as Fidelma had advised, Colgú addressed them all.

‘It is usual for my steward to commence these proceedings,’ Colgú began. ‘But as he is no longer of this world, I shall take this task upon myself and be advised by my new Chief Brehon, who will be sole judge in this matter. As I understand that Latin is common to all the participants, excepting some of my guards, the proceedings shall be in that language unless there are difficulties in comprehension. Is it agreed?’

There was a mumbling of agreement from the gathering. Colgú then glanced to Brehon Fíthel, who cleared his throat and asked if Fidelma was ready.

Fidelma rose from her seat, inclined her head quickly to her brother and the Chief Brehon, before walking to the centre of the chamber.

‘I have often had difficult matters to deal with in my years as a
dálaigh
,’ she began. ‘For an advocate of the courts of this kingdom, no matter is more frustrating than when there are no witnesses to the actual crimes; when we have to rely on piecing together the events by conjecture and then making deductions. This was the problem I was faced with in this matter. Because no one seemed willing to tell us the truth, we had to create a picture from odds and ends of evidence. That led me to devise a ruse so that the person I had begun to suspect would declare their own guilt.

‘I submit that, after I make my arguments, this ruse should be regarded in law as a method of obtaining the perpetrator’s
coibsena
or confession, and under that they are self-declared
bibamnacht
 . . . guilty of the crimes.’

She paused for a moment to glance at Brehon Fithel, who nodded to show that he did not disagree with her opening submission.

‘So now, let us proceed and piece together this sad story.’ She swung round to the Venerable Verax. ‘Tell us how the theft took place of those items that you had brought from your brother, Vitalian, the Bishop of Rome, to give to Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury?’

The Venerable Verax started in surprise at the direct question. He glanced at Brother Bosa who was seated nearby but simply shrugged indifferently. The Venerable Verax turned back to Fidelma, his eyes narrowed.

‘Are you clever, Fidelma of Cashel, or are you just guessing?’

Fidelma shook her head with a sad smile. ‘You should have learned one thing about me from the
nomenclator
of the Lateran Palace, the Venerable Gelasius, whom I was proud to have called a friend in Rome. I
never
guess.’

The Venerable Verax paused for a moment, as if undecided. Then he replied: ‘Then you will know that I set out from Rome on a mission to Theodore of Canterbury, bearing with me certain items that were given by the Holy Father and intended for Theodore and none other.’

‘I presume that you had but recently arrived in Canterbury when the theft occurred?’ she prompted. ‘But I should like to know the exact circumstances.’

‘I had brought with me certain holy objects. These I carried with me in a chest which was never out of my sight nor that of my personal servant.’

‘Except at the time when they were stolen?’ she pointed out with dry humour.

‘I thought them to be safe in the chest in my residence whilst I was in discussion with Archbishop Theodore. I returned to my chamber late one night, however, and found that my servant had been attacked, the chest had been forced open, and these items and papers removed. Enquiries were made. At this time Bishop Arwald was serving Archbishop Theodore as the head of his
custodes
. He undertook the task of helping to track down the thief or thieves.’

Fidelma turned to Bishop Arwald. ‘Archbishop Theodore had decided to copy the Lateran Palace and set up a group called the
custodia
which took care of the security and valuables of the church at Canterbury. Is that so?’

‘He had.’

‘And you were placed in charge of them?’

‘I was.’

‘And they included Brother Bosa and Brother Cerdic?’

‘They did.’

‘So, you undertook to discover the thief. When did you learn that a thief, passing himself as a priest called Victricius, was responsible for the theft of these objects?’

‘It did not take long. There is no honour among thieves, and Victricius was a known thief. Witnesses saw him at the Archbishop’s residence and leaving the quarters used by distinguished guests. He was later observed at various taverns meeting with a young man – a warrior from the descriptions. This young man had previously been seen by both Bishop Arwald and Brother Bosa, but it was only later that a connection was made. The young man resembled Brother Eadulf there, as had already been pointed out. It was not long before their hiding place was betrayed by other thieves. One of the
custodes
went there to investigate but the two had already fled, leaving behind, I should say, some inconsequential documents from their theft, which evidence confirmed their guilt.’

‘Was it Brother Cerdic who was sent to investigate their hiding place?’

Bishop Arwald seemed surprised but nodded. ‘He was but newly joined in our
custodia
. He had impressed me with his enthusiasm.’

‘He reported back that the thieves had fled?’

‘When thieves fall out, truth is to be found,’ replied the Bishop Arwald. ‘I afterwards questioned the innkeeper where they had been hiding and learned that they had set off for the coast north of Canterbury. Riders went after them but found they had embarked on a merchant ship heading for this kingdom. We realised they would doubtless find buyers for those items they stole here.’

‘What made you believe that?’

It was the Venerable Verax who answered. ‘I knew from my brother and in our archives that Ard Macha had already petitioned to be recognised as a primacy here. Obviously there would be interest in these objects.’

‘Are we to be told what these objects are?’ asked Chief Brehon Frithel.

‘Yes; we will come to them in a moment,’ Fidelma replied. She turned back to the Venerable Verax. ‘So you decided to follow the thieves here?’

‘There was no option but to make an attempt to retrieve the items.’

‘It puzzles me that you did not follow by the same sea route,’ Fidelma commented.

‘Storms were coming up and we were told it might be several days before we could find a ship. We took advice from Brother Bosa, who had been here before, and it was decided that we ride for a harbour in the land of the West Saxons and take ship from there. Brother Bosa had studied here in Darú and knew the route well. He felt that we might even land in advance of the merchant ship because of the long voyage it had before it.’

‘A question!’ It was Eadulf who interrupted, and receiving permission of the Brehon Fíthel, he asked: ‘I can understand the
custodes
giving chase in this fashion, but why was the presence of the Venerable Verax necessary? He was a distinguished visitor from Rome.’

‘I was given a commission by the Holy Father,’ explained the elderly prelate. ‘It was my task to see it carried out. Anyway, I alone knew what these items were and could identify them.’