The Council of the Cursed

Chapter Eight

Eadulf had returned frustrated, not having found Abbot Ségdae. The latter and some other delegates were apparently holding a meeting on some of the proposals that would have to be discussed by the council when it was finally convened. The abbot had given orders that they were not to be disturbed. Fidelma was philosophical and decided that they would wait until the next day before going to see the Abbess Audofleda. She took the opportunity to tell Eadulf about her visitor.

‘So now we are told that the abbey is haunted?’ he said, his tone sceptical.

‘The young man heard something. It doesn’t mean that his interpretation is the correct one.’

‘Perhaps I should examine this necessarium,’ mused Eadulf. The hospitia had its own latrina so he had not seen the one that was for general use. He had not expected to be taken seriously, but Fidelma agreed.

‘Find out its location and make a visit there later tonight when all is quiet. With luck, you may stumble across some reasonable explanation for what young Gillucán thought he heard.’

Eadulf groaned inwardly. Truth to tell, he retained some of the superstitions of his pagan upbringing and still believed in malignant spirits. Fidelma pretended not to notice his woebegone expression.

‘What is of more concern to me is the fact that Abbot Dabhóc was carrying a valuable gift for the Bishop of Rome-this reliquary box. Did whoever killed him steal it?’

Eadulf sprawled into the chair that had been earlier vacated by the young man.

‘Well, if they did, they were certainly not the two men who later visited Gillucán and threatened him with a knife,’ he commented.

‘How do you reach that conclusion?’ Fidelma asked.

‘Simple enough. If they already had the box, having ransacked Dabhóc’s chamber, why would they search Gillucán’s room and then return a second time in the middle of the night to threaten him with a knife, asking the question, “Where is it?”’

‘The “it” in question being a reference to the reliquary box?’

‘I think that is a logical deduction,’ Eadulf agreed.

‘But that brings up another question,’ Fidelma said. ‘Who, then, did take this mysterious box?’

‘Or did Abbot Dabhóc hide it somewhere safe before his death and now no one can find it?’ Eadulf said. ‘Should we not have another examination of his chamber?’

‘We will, but we must also consider whether this matter is relevant to his murder, or simply a coincidence. And, of course, if either Ordgar or Cadfan were involved in the murder-why would they want this reliquary box?’

‘It would not be the first time members of the Faith have been tempted by temporal wealth or by some religious icon,’ Eadulf commented.

Fidelma had to acknowledge he was right but did not feel satisfied that this was the answer.

‘We don’t know if it was valuable. That would depend on whose relics were in the box. From the name Gillucán gave me, I cannot think that it is anyone well venerated.’

‘What was the name again?’

‘Benén was the name on the box, according to Gillucán.’

Eadulf frowned. ‘Benén. There are many who have entered the religious who call themselves by that name. They think it makes them of a more holy disposition. When I was a student at Tuam Brecain, I knew a few of that name. And-’ He suddenly sat up straight. ‘Do you mean Benén mac Sesenén of Midhe?’

Fidelma stared at him. ‘The successor of Patrick?’ she asked.

‘The same,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘You should know his work well, for he was one of the three representatives of the Church who sat on the nine-man commission who edited the laws of the Fénechus and produced the Senchus Mór-the great law book by which you Brehons set such great store.’

‘Benén,’ she echoed. He had been the favourite disciple of Patrick, his co-adjutor at Ard Macha, and he also wrote Patrick’s biography. ‘Of course, Benén!’

They were silent for a few moments.

‘Why would the bishop of Ard Macha send the relics of Benén to Rome?’ Fidelma wondered, almost to herself. ‘He never left Ulaidh or Midhe during his temporal life, so why send them there? There seems no connection.’

Eadulf shrugged. ‘That is a question beyond my answering.’

There came a tap on the door. It was Abbot Ségdae.

‘I am told that you were looking for me, Brother Eadulf? I was in a meeting with some of the Armorican abbots.’

It was Fidelma who told him of the problems that they were facing.

‘I thought this had all been clearly agreed by Bishop Leodegar,’ the abbot said peevishly. ‘Perhaps you are right. He wields such a strong hand with his community here that it could well be that no one, not even his steward, will do anything without his direct approval.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I will have another word with him on his return and insist that he makes clear that you can question whoever you want, whenever you want and wherever you want.’ He added heavily, ‘Some of the delegates are speaking of withdrawing from this council. Already there is talk that the council is cursed.’

Fidelma examined the abbot with surprise. ‘Cursed? It is unlike clerics to use such strong language, Ségdae.’

The Abbot of Imleach nodded moodily. ‘Even if this council goes ahead, I do fear the outcome. I have spoken to many, as I have said before, and the Gauls, Britons and the people of our own five kingdoms will not accept these new ideas from Rome easily.’

‘When you were with Abbot Dabhóc, did he ever speak to you of a gift he was bringing here for the Nuntius to take back to Rome?’ Fidelma asked, changing the subject.

Abbot Ségdae looked bemused. ‘What sort of gift?’ he asked. ‘He never mentioned anything to me.’

‘Then please speak of this to no one,’ Fidelma replied. ‘We think it was a reliquary box-the relics of the Blessed Benén who was Patrick’s helper and disciple.’

‘At Imleach we have long known that Ard Macha has been attempting to claim that it is the primacy of all the five kingdoms and we have long fought against it,’ said Abbot Ségdae. ‘We know that the bishops of Ard Macha have already written to the bishops of Rome to enlist their support. Perhaps this is another means of trying to solicit the backing of Rome.’ He tutted to himself. ‘It is sad that even in the Faith, man resorts to politics…!’ He suddenly looked hard at Fidelma. ‘Are you saying there is some connection with the death of Dabhóc and this matter?’

‘I am not saying that…yet,’ she responded. ‘I would appreciate it that nothing is said.’

‘You have my word. Have you spoken to Dabhóc’s steward? I forget his name but he might know something.’

‘I have spoken to him-but again, I would appreciate it if no more was said.’

‘Very well.’

There came the distant ringing of a bell.

Abbot Ségdae glanced up in surprise. ‘Tempus fugit. It is the bell to end the day’s toil in the abbey and prepare for the evening meal.’

For people from the five kingdoms it was a signal for their daily bath, which always occurred before the evening meal.

The abbot hurriedly made his excuses and left them.

They joined him when the bell tolled again to announce the evening meal. Brother Gillucán was at the table in the refectory looking withdrawn and nervous, and while Fidelma glanced encouragingly at the young man she did not refer to their earlier meeting, nor did he. Abbot Ségdae waited until after the ritual of the gratias, the meal and the dismissal were over before approaching Bishop Leodegar. After a hurried conversation, the bishop accompanied the abbot back to where Fidelma was waiting with Eadulf.

‘I apologise, Sister Fidelma, if my intentions were misinterpreted. I will make sure that my instructions are followed more carefully. Of course you have the freedom to come and go, as you will. Only please respect my wish that you are circumspect.’

‘That was my understanding of our agreement,’ said Fidelma solemnly. ‘I was sure that Brother Chilperic was simply being a little over-zealous.’

Bishop Leodegar looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Just so. Just so. Though I must confess that I cannot understand why you need to consult with Abbess Audofleda.’

‘It is difficult to explain where one’s path will lead in an investigation,’ Fidelma said smoothly. ‘Perhaps into a blind alley, perhaps down a side turning, perhaps nowhere at all. One has to follow one’s instincts.’

‘Very well, I shall send a message to Abbess Audofleda telling her to expect you. Tomorrow morning, perhaps?’ But his voice betrayed both reluctance and curiosity.

Fidelma bowed her head in acknowledgement.

The bishop waited a moment more before, with a jerk of his head towards both of them, he turned and moved off.

Later that night, Fidelma woke Eadulf. He blinked in the candlelight.

‘It’s still dark!’ he protested sleepily.

‘And time to do some investigation-remember?’

Eadulf groaned. ‘So I must go seeking the ghosts of Brother Gillucán’s imagination?’

‘As you suggested yourself. Find the necessarium and see what there is to be seen. I do not think there will be anything, but one needs to be thorough.’

Still grumbling Eadulf climbed out of the bed and pulled on his robe.

‘Auroa Musis amica,’ chuckled Fidelma as she watched him.

‘We have a similar saying,’ replied Eadulf without humour. ‘The early bird catches the worm.’

‘So I suppose you know where to go?’ she asked, as he took the candle and made his way to the door.

He turned back with some of his old spirit.

‘I am not so slow,’ he chided. ‘You may have noticed that after the evening meal, I followed a couple of the brethren who were almost running along the corridor. They led me to the necessarium.’

Fidelma was puzzled. ‘How did you know they were going there?’

‘When you see men hurrying in such a manner after having imbibed, then it is logical enough.’ He allowed himself a grin before adding: ‘I’ll be back soon.’

The necessarium for the brethren was along a corridor that led to the far side of the abbey, against what Eadulf judged to be the southern wall of the city. He moved quietly along the corridors, holding the tallow candle before him to light his way. There were few lanterns in this section of the abbey; the guest quarters were, of course, among those areas that were well lit.

Eadulf suppressed a shiver as he crept down the narrow stairwell to the lower floor. He paused to listen at the bottom before making his way along the final darkened corridor to the room which the brethren used as the communal necessarium. He entered it, closed the door behind him and, holding up his candle, peered around.

It was a large square room with a stone trough in the middle in which water lay reflecting the candlelight with curious sparkles and ripples. This was for washing. The floor itself was tiled, and around the walls was a continuous line of marble seats with no partitions between them. In each seat was a hole that dropped into darkness but from which Eadulf could hear the trickle and splash of a watercourse-a stream that ran underneath. Each person could go to a chosen seat and perform their natural functions before moving to the central pool to wash. There was little privacy here when one came to perform one’s ablutions. A memory returned to Eadulf; it was like one of the communal necessaria that he had seen in Rome when he was there.

An objectionable odour rose from the open seating. He sniffed in disapproval, wondering which poor member of the brethren was sent down to clear the water channel when it became blocked with the excrement of his fellows. Eadulf screwed up his face into an expression of distaste, trying to push the unwelcome thought from his mind.

He moved to stand near the centre of the room by the water trough and listened, but there was no sound apart from the trickling of the water channel beneath the seats. He waited a few moments and then slowly walked around the walls by the seats, pausing now and then to listen. A sudden hooting sound caused him to stop in his tracks with heart pounding, until he realised it was the mournful cry of an owl. There were two windows, high up and open to the sky, and the bird must have flown by. He crept on again. No, there were no cries of souls in torment.

Eadulf even climbed to the back of the stone seating and placed his ear against the wall to listen. Nothing. No demonic cries or whispering through the stonework. Sighing, he climbed down again. He next looked at the windows and then the door, trying to place the room in the context of the whole abbey complex. Turning back to the wall on whose seats he had climbed to listen, he realised that this must be a dividing wall between the male quarters and the Domus Femini, the house of women.

Giving a final glance around, and holding his candle high, he went to the door and opened it.

A figure loomed large before him.

‘Brother Eadulf!’

Eadulf took a step backward and stifled his cry of surprise.

‘What are you doing here?’ demanded the voice.

The figure held up a lantern and Eadulf recognised the steward of the abbey, Brother Chilperic.

He recovered himself quickly. ‘A curious question, Brother,’ he replied in a dignified tone. ‘What would anyone be doing in a necessarium?’

‘At this hour? But there is a latrina in the hospitia.’

‘We are not all blessed with bodily control and when drink is taken…’ Eadulf shrugged. ‘I had no wish to disturb Sister Fidelma. That is why, having seen the brethren coming here, I crept out of the chamber to emulate them without waking her. Actually, I had forgotten it was such a long way down here.’ He grinned. ‘Your wine is potent on the system.’

Brother Chilperic looked unconvinced.

Eadulf decided to take a chance on the spur of the moment and added: ‘What is beyond the wall, Brother Chilperic? As I was sitting there, I thought I heard someone crying.’

The steward looked sceptical. ‘Nothing is beyond there except the work-rooms of the Domus Femini. No one would be there at this time, unless it was some animal you heard. A cat, perhaps?’

‘Of course, that would be it. Well, it is chilly here. Let me pass and return to my interrupted sleep.’

The young man hesitated and then stood aside.

‘May your sleep not be troubled further, Brother.’

Eadulf could not help but wonder if the steward was being sarcastic.

‘And may you also have some rest this night,’ he replied stiffly. Hurrying back to the hospitia, he found Fidelma awaiting his return with some impatience.

‘Did you discover anything?’ she demanded.

‘I did not, but I was myself discovered,’ he replied, throwing off his robe and collapsing on the bed. He told her of his encounter with Brother Chilperic before describing what he had seen.

She was thoughtful for a while but not concerned about the steward of the abbey.

‘If Brother Gillucán heard anything untoward while he was sitting in the necessarium, it most likely came from the water channel that takes the effluence from the necessarium out to wherever it flows.’

Eadulf had his eyes shut. ‘I suppose so,’ he muttered sleepily.

‘It is possible that sounds echo along the water channel,’ went on Fidelma.

‘Possible,’ yawned Eadulf again.

‘And the wall there…you say that it borders on to the women’s house of the abbey?’

Eadulf let out a faint snore. He was asleep.

Fidelma frowned in annoyance. Then she smiled softly at his sleeping form and, reaching over, blew out the candle.

Eadulf felt he had barely fallen asleep when the sunlight streaming in through the window caught his face and caused him to blink. Fidelma had already washed and was sitting breaking her fast with some fruit.

‘Come, get ready. I let you sleep through morning prayers and there is much to be done today,’ she called, seeing he was awake.

He rolled out of bed still feeling exhausted.

‘Can’t we do it later?’ he protested.

‘We cannot.’

They were walking down the stairs to the anticum of the abbey when Brother Chilperic appeared, hurrying up the stairs, his forehead wrinkled into a frown. He came to an abrupt halt and gave Eadulf a close scrutiny.

‘I am looking for Abbot Ségdae,’ he said. ‘Is he still in the hospitia? Have you seen him?’

‘We have not,’ replied Fidelma. ‘You look agitated, Brother. Is something wrong?’

The steward shrugged. ‘I simply needed to report a matter to him now that he is the senior delegate from your country.’

Fidelma was intrigued. ‘Is there anything I can help with?’

‘Alas, no. You probably knew Brother Gillucán, who was the companion of Abbot Dabhóc. He intended to set out to return to his home this morning.’

Fidelma nearly made the mistake of admitting knowledge but, remembering what Brother Gillucán had asked, that she should say nothing, she simply asked, ‘Does he need some assistance, then?’

‘No longer.’

A cold feeling suddenly seized Fidelma. ‘No longer? Please explain,’ she asked.

‘It seems that he set out alone in the early hours without informing anyone. He was found floating in the Aturavos…that’s the river that runs to the north side of the city. It looks as though he was attacked by robbers, for they stripped him naked. He should have waited to return with a group of pilgrims who were setting out later today.’

‘Are you sure he left the abbey on his homeward journey?’ Fidelma could not help asking the question.

‘What else would he be doing, outside the abbey at that time? Also, when I heard, I went to his chamber to check. All his belongings were gone. The conclusion is obvious.’

‘And you say he was travelling alone?’ asked Fidelma, remembering that Brother Gillucán had told her that he was going to travel in company that day.

Brother Chilperic nodded moodily. ‘His body was found alone. No one else was with him. Again, the conclusion is obvious. To travel alone is unwise in these troubled times,’ he commented. ‘They left him with nothing and cut his throat.’

‘No one saw anything?’ queried Eadulf.

‘The river is, as you must have seen, outside the city walls,’ the man said. ‘It is wrong to leave the city at night. Indeed, wrong to leave the abbey at night.’

‘Are you certain that is what happened?’ Fidelma pressed. ‘That he left the abbey at night to set off on his homeward journey? You have guards at the city gates. Did they see him go?’

‘He left the abbey before dawn. No one saw him,’ Brother Chilperic replied impatiently. ‘The body was discovered by a fisherman a little down-river not long after sun-up.’

‘If we see Abbot Ségdae, we will inform him of this tragedy and say that you are looking for him,’ Fidelma said, realising they were showing too much interest. ‘In the meantime, can you tell us which of the rooms Abbot Dabhóc occupied?’

‘It is empty,’ replied the steward, his mind clearly elsewhere. ‘There is nothing there now.’

‘But where is it located?’

‘It is back in the hospitia, in the same corridor as Bishop Ordgar’s chamber-the third along from where he is.’

She thanked him but Brother Chilperic was already on his way. Once out of the steward’s earshot Fidelma spoke her thoughts.

‘Brother Gillucán feared for his life and now he is dead,’ she said quietly.

‘Do you think there is some connection with the death of Abbot Dabhóc?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Let’s keep an open mind. You noticed the look that Brother Chilperic cast in your direction?’

‘He is probably still suspicious at finding me in the necessarium, especially as it was probably near the hour when this Brother Gillucán was making his way out of the abbey. But I thought Gillucán said he was joining a group of pilgrims for the journey?’

‘He did. We’d best keep our own counsel on this, Eadulf,’ Fidelma replied, keeping her voice low, ‘until we find out whether it is in some way connected with the matter here or just a coincidence, There is no use putting ourselves in harm’s way. If Gillucán felt fearful enough to leave the abbey before dawn on his own, then the very thing he feared befell him.’

‘But why? I cannot see any logic in this matter.’

‘Perhaps there is something more to the killing of Abbot Dabhóc, and now his steward, than merely the argument between Ordgar and Cadfan. What was it that those who ransacked Dabhóc’s chamber were looking for-the reliquary box? If so, why didn’t they find it? Who has it? And was this what Gillucán was being asked about when his room was searched? There are too many questions, Eadulf. Too many questions and not enough facts.’

‘For once, I agree,’ Eadulf said. ‘So where do we turn next? Should we see what else we can find out about Brother Gillucán’s death?’

‘Not at the moment. If it is connected with Dabhóc’s death then we do not want to alert our adversary that we suspect anything.’

‘So what now?’

‘Let us have a brief glance at the chamber occupied by Abbot Dabhóc before we return to our initial plan to speak with Abbess Audofleda. Now we know that Dabhóc did not have far to go to meet his death. His room was in the same corridor as Ordgar’s room.’

The chamber that had been occupied by Abbot Dabhóc was empty and had been cleaned thoroughly. There was certainly nowhere to hide such an object as a reliquary box. Fidelma gazed around.

‘Well, this room is not going to tell us anything,’ she sighed.

There was a hollow cough behind them at the doorway. The saturnine figure of Brother Benevolentia stood regarding them,

‘Were you looking for me?’ he asked. ‘My chamber is just along here.’

Fidelma turned to greet him. ‘As a matter of fact, no. We were looking at the chamber Abbot Dabhóc occupied.’

‘Is there anything I can help with?’

‘We were told that this chamber was ransacked on that same night as he was killed. I don’t suppose you heard anything?’

‘As I mentioned before, I did not hear even what was happening in poor Bishop Ordgar’s chamber, since I sleep so very soundly. I knew nothing until Bishop Leodegar and his steward roused me,’ Brother Benevolentia said.

‘Do you know Abbot Dabhóc’s steward?’ asked Fidelma.

Brother Benevolentia shook his head.

‘So you have no idea where his chamber is located?’

‘I do not know him but his chamber is on the left, down that corridor,’ he indicated. ‘The first door you come to. I don’t think he is there right now, although I saw Brother Chilperic leave it earlier. Have you knocked upon his door?’

‘No, he is-’ began Eadulf, then fell silent with a glance from Fidelma.

‘No, you are right. He is not there,’ she added. ‘But if his chamber was there, then you must surely have known him?’

‘Ah, I see what you mean. The word you used implied that he was a person I knew well. He was familiar to me only as one of the foreign delegation, and I certainly did not know him, other than to exchange a courteous greeting when passing.’

‘Then thank you for your help, Brother Benevolentia.’

The religieux nodded to them and retired into his own chamber.

Fidelma moved to the chamber that he had indicated and opened the door. It had been left tidy, the blanket folded on the bed. As Brother Chilperic had said, it was empty but with no sign of a hurried departure. It would reveal nothing more than the abbot’s chamber had revealed.

Behind her, Eadulf remarked: ‘A bit of a pedantic character.’

Fidelma shrugged absently. ‘Who-Benevolentia? Perhaps he is right. Language should be used precisely, especially in legal matters.’ She gestured to the tiny room before her. ‘This won’t tell us much, either.’ She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

‘At least we now know the location of these chambers,’ she observed, as she led the way back down to the main hall of the abbey.

‘Is that important?’ asked Eadulf.

‘It is always good to know the precise layout of where the crime is committed and the surrounding area. Have you noticed that Abbot Cadfan’s chamber was the furthest away from Ordgar’s chamber and along another corridor? Everyone else was in the same corridor or adjacent, like Gillucán.’

Eadulf supposed that he had registered the fact but could not see that there was any relevance.

‘As I say, it is good to know the layout,’ she repeated.

They were crossing the anticum, having ascertained that the only way to gain entrance to the Domus Femini was to leave the main door and walk along the north side of the square, then go up the wagonway into the central courtyard. The main door to the women’s community was on the far side of this courtyard.

A voice suddenly called Fidelma’s name and they saw a figure hurrying towards them across the marble flagged hallway. It was a tall, dark man with a pale olive complexion, wearing the robes and tonsure of Rome, and his attire was not of some poor cleric but someone of rank.

‘Sister Fidelma! I thought I recognised you. It is good to see you again.’ He was holding his hand out in greeting to her.

Fidelma took it, her brow furrowed as she tried to place the man from distant memory.

‘You do not recognise me? No matter. It has been a few years since you were in Rome.’

Memory suddenly came to her. ‘You were a scribe in the Lateran Palace…’

‘I was scribe to the Venerable Gelasius, nomenclator to His Holiness. I saw you several times in his office when you were investigating the death of the Archbishop Wighard. The Venerable Gelasius has frequently wondered how life was treating you since you left Rome. We have heard many things about you and of Brother Eadulf.’ He turned to Eadulf and smiled, reaching out to take his hand. ‘And you, I believe, are Brother Eadulf? I cannot recall meeting with you, though I know you were assisting Sister Fidelma in Rome.’

Eadulf’s greeting was restrained, as he could not place the man at all.

‘You are Brother Peregrinus,’ Fidelma suddenly said.

The man chuckled. ‘I am honoured to be remembered. I am Nuntius Peregrinus now.’

‘And you are the emissary from Rome?’

‘I am indeed envoy to the council. I brought the instructions from His Holiness, Vitalian, to Bishop Leodegar, concerning the council and giving it blessing and authority. I have to await the outcome of the debates and take those decisions back to Rome again. I am sure the Venerable Gelasius will be delighted to hear the news. It was only yesterday that the bishop told me of your presence here. I have been visiting some of the outlying churches near this city. But I am glad that matters have entered safe hands. What has transpired here is sad. It was a wise decision of Bishop Leodegar, to seek out your talents to resolve the matter.’

Fidelma was deprecating.

‘We can only do what we are able, Nuntius. I trust that the Venerable Gelasius is well and presumably still in his position in Rome?’

‘He is, indeed, and thinks of you with kindly thoughts. You performed a great service for Rome, which he does not forget.’

‘He flatters me.’

‘Not so. Since Vitalian was elected to the throne of the Blessed Peter, the Church has been taking great strides forward. The schisms that Christendom has suffered are slowly mending, thanks to His Holiness. He has sought to repair the connection between Constantinople and Rome by friendly advances, and sent envoys and gifts to Patriach Peter of Constantinople. In that he has been successful, and now his name, as a Bishop of Rome, has been entered in the diptychs of those eastern churches for the first time in many a generation.’

‘Diptychs?’ frowned Eadulf.

‘The lists of those regarded as worthy and in communion with the teachings of the Faith and elevation to high office,’ explained Fidelma in a swift aside.

‘Exactly so,’ Nuntius Peregrinus confirmed. ‘Vitalian has also tried to heal the rift between the Saxons and the Britons, as you know, by sending Theodore to minister to them. And he is trying to deal with the heresy of monothelitism and bring all the churches into a one-ness with Rome. Hence the importance of this council.’

Fidelma sighed softly. ‘He is obviously ambitious for Rome.’

‘Ambitious for the furtherance of the Faith.’

‘As I say, we will do our best to resolve the matters that have created a postponement to the coming together of that council. Tell me, Nuntius, did you inform Bishop Leodegar that you knew me?’

‘No. I wanted to see you first, to make sure that you were the same Fidelma whom I saw in Rome. Would you prefer I did mention you?’

‘You may do so freely,’ she replied.

‘Well, if there is ever help required, you may count on it that you have an influential friend at the Lateran Palace, Sister,’ the Nuntius assured her. ‘And if there is anything I can do here, let me know. Perhaps we can meet later and talk about the passing of the years. The Venerable Gelasius will be eager to hear all that has befallen you.’

‘Then let us meet in the calefactorium before the evening meal,’ suggested Fidelma.

‘Excellent. I shall be there.’

With a wave of his hand, Nuntius Peregrinus turned and hurried away. Behind him, his silent shadow, an armed member of the custodes of the Lateran Palace, reinforcing Peregrinus’ rank as envoy of Vitalian, emerged from a corner and followed him.

‘A small world,’ muttered Eadulf as they continued on to the door.

‘It might be beneficial that the Nuntius remembers us,’ Fidelma remarked. ‘I have a feeling that we might need his help in dealing with Bishop Leodegar.’