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‘But to be exiled for that …’ began Eadulf.

Fidelma smiled and shook her head. ‘That was not the reason why Colm was exiled. He was not only a religious but also a hot-headed prince of his people — the Cenel Conaill, a sept of the Uí Néill of the north. He raised his clan and physically challenged the High King and his Brehon over their ruling. There was a terrible battle at Cúl Dreimne at the foot of the mountain called Binn Ghulbainn. Many fell in that dreadful clash but the High King’s warriors prevailed and Colm was banished from the Five Kingdoms as a punishment. That was when he went to Iona.’

‘All that just because he copied a book?’ said Eadulf in amazement.

‘Is not a book of more value than metal?’ asked Cumscrad. ‘It is the fruit of a person’s brain and contains knowledge and ideas; it has power greater than gold because knowledge and ideas can change people.’

‘And some books can be dangerous.’ The comment came ominously from Brother Lugna who had been standing quietly all this time.

‘I am sure the songs of the chief bard of the Five Kingdoms cannot be dangerous,’ Fidelma said with a smile, being deliberately obtuse. She turned to Eadulf. ‘Dallán Forgaill died nearly a century ago and was regarded by all as the greatest bard in the Five Kingdoms. But he was killed out of jealousy,’ she added significantly. ‘I would say that even the works of Dallán Forgaill are rare.’

‘We have a library of several ancient works, lady,’ Cumscrad said proudly. ‘Fortunately, we even retain some of the books that were not destroyed by the early zeal of those proselytising for the new Faith. Works that reflect the mind and spirit of our ancestors, which would otherwise have been lost in the book-burning.’

Brother Lugna scowled and almost hissed, ‘Heretical works. Works of pagan idolatry!’

‘Works such as that of Celsus?’ asked Fidelma innocently.

‘Exactly so! There is only one book that should exist and that is the gospel bearing the good news of the Faith.’

Cumscrad regarded the steward with an expression akin to pity and said softly, ‘Timeo hominem unius libri.’

Fidelma gave the chieftain an approving glance, for the adage was: ‘I fear the man of one book.’ Trying to argue with someone who believed that the literal statement of one book was sufficient knowledge to form a dogma was difficult.

‘The burning of books must surely be a crime against culture and civilisation,’ Eadulf remarked.

‘I agree with you, Saxon.’ Cumscrad chuckled cynically. ‘That should have been explained to Patrick the Briton who, according to his friend and biographer Benignus, ordered the burning of eighty books of the Druids.’

‘Druidical books! Pagan idolatry!’ hissed Brother Lugna again.

‘Books that would have helped us understand our past, without which we are condemned to live in ignorance,’ observed Fidelma quietly.

‘Heresy!’ replied the steward. ‘I will not listen to such conversation.’

‘Indeed, there is no need for you to remain,’ Fidelma told him. ‘The abbot and I will reach a conclusion as to what is to be done in this matter.’

It was a direct challenge to the steward. He stood for a moment, undecided. His chin was raised belligerently as he stared at her. He saw the sparkle of fire in her eyes, hesitated a moment more, then turned and left the room without another word.

Cumscrad grimaced in satisfaction. ‘An unpleasant fellow, Iarnla. What possessed you to appoint him as your steward?’

Abbot Iarnla glanced at Fidelma and made a hopeless gesture with his hands. He was far from happy.

‘You said that the books that were stolen were copies of originals? ’ Eadulf asked to distract the chief’s attention.

‘It took our scribes over a year to make them and in that lies their value.’

Fidelma turned back to Cumscrad. ‘It will be my brother’s wish to avoid the unnecessary spilling of blood, so I warn you not to raise your clan against Uallachán of the Uí Liatháin before I have had time to properly investigate the matter. We must then place the evidence before Uallachán and allow him to submit his rebuttal. Do you agree with that, Cumscrad?’

The chief thought for a moment and then gave a quick smile of agreement. ‘I do, for I favour things being done in accordance with the law.’

‘Then what I suggest is, after the midday meal, we set out for your township of Fhear Maighe so that I can question the bargemen and librarian. Then I shall ride to Uallachán of the Uí Liatháin and put the matter to him.’

Abbot Iarnla was frowning. ‘But what of your inquiry here? This means you may be gone two days or so.’

‘There are some things I must consider before making my report on the death of Brother Donnchad. But have no fear. I should be able to announce my findings soon.’

‘Then you have come to a decision on the death of Brother Donnchad?’ demanded the abbot in surprise.

‘I will let you know soon.’

Cumscrad was shaking his head sadly. ‘Ah, Brother Donnchad. He did not look a happy man when I saw him.’

‘Did you know Brother Donnchad then?’ Fidelma asked with interest.

‘Who did not?’ replied Cumscrad. ‘He was well known even before he went off on his pilgrimage to the Holy Land. It wasonly a few days after he came to Fhear Maighe that I heard he was dead.’

‘After he came to Fhear Maighe? Are you saying that you met him there a few days before his death?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘That is what I said. He spent the day at Fhear Maighe and only a few days later we heard of his death. It was a shock that …’ He paused as he noticed the expressions of surprise on the faces of his audience. ‘But you must have known of his visit, Iarnla. Brother Donnchad would have sought permission to leave the abbey to ride to Fhear Maighe, isn’t that the rule?’

Abbot Iarnla nodded uneasily.

‘It was noted that Brother Donnchad had disappeared for a day without telling anyone where he was going,’ Fidelma told Cumscrad before the abbot could reply. ‘That was four days before he was found murdered. So now we know. What was the purpose of his visit to you?’

‘He did not come to visit me,’ replied Cumscrad.

‘But you said-’

‘He came to Fhear Maighe but he went to visit our tech-screptra.’

‘Your library?’

‘Brother Donnchad came to examine some of the texts that we hold in our library.’

‘Which ones?’ Eadulf could not disguise the hint of excitement in his voice.

‘I don’t know. You would have to ask Dubhagan our leabhar coimedach.’

‘How long did he spend at the library?’ Fidelma pressed.

‘I met him when he was departing in the evening,’ admitted Cumscrud. ‘But I was told that he had arrived early that morning.’

‘So he spent the entire day in the library? He went nowhere else when he was at Fhear Maighe?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Was his visit unusual? I mean, had he ever visited the library before?’

Cumscrad smiled and shook his head. ‘I had encountered Brother Donnchad only twice previously, when I visited this abbey. However, he did employ my son to make copies at our library. My son, Cunán, is assistant at the library and has a reputation for the fairness of his copies. Not that Brother Donnchad approved of many of the books the library holds. He was somewhat like our friend the steward.’

‘Like Brother Lugna?’

‘He claimed that our library was full of profane and heretical works. He had never expressed a wish to visit us before he arrived on that day.’

‘Didn’t that arouse your curiosity?’ Fidelma asked. ‘The fact that he suddenly turned up at a place abhorrent to his thinking?’

‘I gave it a passing thought, no more. I knew he was an intelligent man and thought that perhaps he had reconsidered his attitude.’

‘And within a few days of his returning from your library, he is found murdered,’ muttered Eadulf and immediately received another warning glance from Fidelma.