Glassán now seemed nervous. He glanced at his plate, pushed it away unfinished, then rose quickly and glanced at his assistant, Saor.
‘Forgive us,’ he mumbled, ‘there is something we must examine at the works before the light totally fades.’
He turned from the table. Saor, apparently unwillingly, followed, but not before he had grabbed a piece of bread and a lump of cheese.
Gormán watched them leaving with a broad smile. ‘What a pity we did not tell him who you were on the first evening, lady. We might have been spared the lecture on the joys of being a master builder. He obviously has an aversion to relatives of kings. Maybe his former association with the King of Laighin is to blame.’
Fidelma was looking thoughtful. ‘Perhaps you are right, Gormán. But remember this, there is much to be learned from a conversation with even the most boring of people.’
Eadulf cleared his throat. ‘Speaking of which, I am not sure I learnt anything from your exchange with Brother Lugna. That is, apart from what we had already realised, that poor Abbot Iarnla seems to be totally under his thumb.’
‘The abbot does occasionally show flashes of his old self,’Fidelma replied. ‘We must hope that he has not abandoned himself entirely to Brother Lugna’s control.’
‘But what about this pantomime of your dress? You do not usually assert your rank and authority of birth so blatantly. In fact, you only do so when you feel that the person needs to be put in his place …’ Eadulf paused and smiled. ‘So you were attempting to put Brother Lugna in his place?’
‘Not entirely. But I have a suspicion about Brother Lugna that I wanted to put to the test,’ she replied, helping herself to a bowl of hot vegetable soup.
‘And did that exchange confirm it?’
‘I think it did,’ she said. ‘Between us, my exchange confirmed to me that he is of a heretical sect. But I will keep the detail to myself a while longer. The main thing to remember is that Brother Lugna is a fanatic and tolerates no dissension.’
‘I dislike the man anyway,’ muttered Eadulf. ‘I still think we should be treating him as a suspect.’
‘Dislike him or not, suspect or not, Brother Lugna is steward of the abbey. It is best that he knows where he stands with us.’
After the meal and the blessing from the abbot, Gormán leaned forward.
‘Shall I come with you to see the abbot, lady?’ he asked quietly. ‘You may need …’ He tapped a finger on his belt where his sword should have hung.
Fidelma pretended shock. ‘Heavens, no! I do not mean to start a war. This is simply an essay in diplomacy.’
‘Diplomacy?’ Gormán grunted in surprise. ‘I did not think so, the way you responded to the steward.’
‘Don’t worry, Gormán. If you are needed, I will call you. But Eadulf will be with me.’
Eadulf had no understanding what was in Fidelma’s mind. He felt it better to hold his peace and see what happened rather than show his ignorance by asking her what she intended.
The abbot and the steward had disappeared by the time Fidelma and Eadulf left the refectorium, so Fidelma led the way to the abbot’s chambers. Outside, lurking in the shadow of the building, they found Brother Máel Eoin. The hosteller came forward, until the light of the lantern hanging over the door illuminated his features. He placed a finger against his lips. With outstretched hand he drew Fidelma and Eadulf aside and spoke in a whisper.
‘I just wanted to warn you about Brother Lugna, lady,’ he said. ‘He is not a … nice person. You made an enemy of him tonight in the refectorium. You made him back down in front of the brethren, and he knows they do not like him.’
Fidelma smiled and laid a hand on his arm. ‘Take comfort, Brother Máel Eoin. We are aware of Brother Lugna’s temperament.’
‘Before he came to the abbey,’ the hosteller went on, ‘Abbot Iarnla was strong and independent. Then Brother Lugna came with his strange ideas. Whenever anyone questions them, he says this is done in Rome or that is the rule of Rome. We cannot argue when we are also told that Rome is the centre of the Faith and where the Holy Father dwells. Brother Lugna persuaded sufficient numbers of the brethren to support him in becoming the steward of the community. It was afterwards that things began to change.’
‘And these changes are not liked?’
‘The changes have upset many of us and, I have to be honest, lady, it has been sad to see how he is usurping Abbot Iarnla’s position. The abbot seems unable to stand against him. We feel that it is Brother Lugna who is in control and not the abbot.’
‘Do you know why that should be?’ asked Eadulf.
‘It is as if Brother Lugna has some power over him,’ replied Brother Máel Eoin. ‘What it is, I do not know. But I felt I mustwarn you to be careful, lady. Be very careful.’ The hosteller turned and left them.
After a few moments, they rapped sharply on Abbot Iarnla’s door and entered.
Abbot Iarnla was seated in his usual chair, while Brother Lugna was standing to one side and a little behind him.
‘What was the meaning of your exchange in the refectorium, Fidelma?’ the abbot demanded at once. ‘I have no understanding of it.’
‘I think your rechtaire understands,’ replied Fidelma coolly.
Brother Lugna scowled, shifted his weight but said nothing.
Abbot Iarnla looked up at him with a trace of his old assertive self.
‘Well, Brother Lugna, will you explain?’
When the steward remained silent, Fidelma said, ‘Brother Lugna was kind enough to inform me, when we arrived here, that he did not favour my coming. He believed that this investigation should be an internal matter.’
‘I did not hide my view,’ Brother Lugna said sullenly.
‘You did not,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘But when the abbot overruled your objections and insisted I came here, that should have been an end to the matter, should it not?’
Abbot Iarnla appeared troubled again. ‘Of course that was an end to it. You have complete authority to make your investigation.’
‘Yet I do not think Brother Lugna shares that view.’ Fidelma was looking straight at the steward.
‘Explain,’ demanded the abbot.
Brother Lugna’s mouth was a tight, thin line.
‘What Brother Lugna is going to explain,’ went on Fidelma, ‘is why he went round to those I wanted to question and told them not to cooperate with me. He told them to answer questions as sparsely laden with facts as possible.’
Brother Lugna’s jaw rose aggressively. ‘I suppose the simpleton has been telling you a story,’ he sneered.
‘If you refer to Brother Gáeth, it was certainly not he who revealed this to me. And we find that he is no simpleton. I shall not tell you who it was who told me but be assured it was not Brother Gáeth. I shall not be happy if I hear some punishment falls on him because of such a suspicion.’ There was no belligerence in her quiet voice. She made a statement of fact.
Abbot Iarnla looked scandalised. ‘Of course nothing will happen to Brother Gáeth.’ Then he paused, again uncertain and nervous. He turned to his steward. ‘Are you admitting that what Fidelma says is correct, Brother Lugna? Did you tell members of our brethren not to cooperate with her?’
When the steward hesitated, Fidelma went on, ‘I thought the manner in which the physician responded to my questioning was extraordinary. A physician trying to avoid questioning by a dálaigh of the courts is unprecedented in my experience. I soon found out that he had been told to behave in that manner.’
‘But why, Brother Lugna, why?’ demanded the abbot.
The steward shrugged. ‘My views have not altered since you rejected my advice, Abbot Iarnla,’ he said defiantly. ‘This abbey has no need of outsiders poking their noses into the affairs of the community.’