‘It might also be called adhering to one’s principles in search of the truth,’ interposed Eadulf, having kept quiet so far during the conversation.
‘Perhaps,’ agreed the abbot absently. ‘Cinaed was a cross to bear in the running of this abbey, for many found him and his views objectionable.’
‘Like young Brother Cu Mara?’ Eadulf queried in an innocent tone.
‘And others,’ Abbot Erc replied with quick emphasis. ‘But do not misinterpret what I say. As an individual, Cinaed was stimulating in conversation
‘That was rather extreme, wasn’t it?’ Fidelma reproved. ‘Why would you disapprove?’
‘I believe in the call for celibacy among the clerics.’
‘Yet Ard Fhearta is a mixed house, a conhospitae, in which you have men and women raising their children to Christ’s service.’
Abbot Erc was dismissive.
‘One cannot move a mountain in a day. Vincit qui patitur — he prevails who is patient. You are right that this is a conhospitae and Abbess Faife and I shared its governance. Now that Abbess Faife is dead, I am sole governor of the abbey and it will be my rule that prevails. Abbess Faife will not be replaced. Within the year, Ard Fhearta will become a male domain ruled by the new laws. I agree with young Brother Cu Mara. More and more of our abbeys are adopting the Penitentials. We shall change our church laws to the rules we receive from Rome.’ He glanced at Eadulf. ‘That should be pleasing to you, Brother Saxon, for you wear your tonsure in the manner of Rome and therefore, I presume, you believe in its rule.’
For a moment Eadulf looked uncomfortable.
‘Perhaps I have spent too long in your country — and I seem to recall the writings of the Blessed Ambrose, the bishop of Milan — si fueris Romae, Romano vivito more; si fueris alibi, vivito sicut ibi.’
Abbot Erc regarded him with an expression of reproof.
‘Well done, Brother Saxon. “If you are at Rome, live in the Roman style; if you are elsewhere, live as they live elsewhere,’” he translated. ‘It is a good philosophy, perhaps. But since you have raised the subject of the teachings of Ambrose let us remember that when the Emperor Theodosius massacred the Greeks in Thessalonika because they killed a Roman governor, Ambrose condemned it as a crime that needed to be expiated by public penance. “The emperor is within the church,” he wrote, “he is not above it.” Thus he made Theodosius make that public penance. You, Sister Fidelma, might do well to remember that fact when you say the church comes within the law. Rome teachers that the church is the law.’
Fidelma smiled thinly.
‘Your scholarship is admitted, Abbot Erc. However, we are, as Eadulf
‘You are a stubborn woman.’ The abbot was disapproving.
‘I am a dalaigh,’ she replied simply.
Abbot Erc was dismissive. ‘I presume that the lord Conri. will be returning here?’
‘That I can assure you is his intention.’
‘Very well. I hope that by the end of two days you will come before me and present me with the information that you are currently withholding. I will instruct Brother Cu Mara that he must accept this ruling.’
Sister Fidelma rose. ‘Then I am sure that we will have a good outcome to this mystery.’
With a quick nod of her head in acknowledgement of his office, she left the abbot’s chamber, followed by Eadulf.
Outside, they paused for a moment.
‘Not the most supportive of persons,’ observed Eadulf. ‘He seems to have profited in his ambitions for himself and the abbey by the death of Abbess Faife.’
‘That is so,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘One wonders whether he profited by design or accident. That must be borne in mind.’
‘Either way, I think that he and Brother Cu Mara need watching.’
‘There are many who have secrets here, Eadulf,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘The question is, are those secrets connected with the activities of Seanach’s Island?’
‘Hopefully, we will know when Conri returns.’
‘Perhaps,’ she replied in a non-committal fashion. ‘I hope we will be able to find out more even before that time. Let us get back to the hospitium.’
They were leaving the main building when Eadulf suddenly halted and apologised to Fidelma, saying he would catch up with her in a moment. Fidelma saw that he was heading towards the male defaecatorium. She paused under a hanging lantern to wait for him.
‘Sister Fidelma!’
Fidelma swung round at the sound of her name.
It was Sister Buan, emerging out of the shadows.
‘I am glad to see your return.’ The sharp-faced woman smiled. ‘I have been worrying a little about the matter we spoke of.’
‘The matter we spoke of?’ frowned Fidelma, trying to stir her memory.
A look of dismay crossed the other’s face. She raised a hand to her cheek.
‘Oh, you have forgotten! I was hoping that you would resolve the legal problem for me. I know that you have other things… more important things… on your mind. But…’
Memory came back to Fidelma in a flash. So much had happened in the meantime. She had given the matter thought before she had left Ard Fhearta to join Mugron’s ship. She smiled apologetically, and held out a hand to catch the sleeve of the apparently embarrassed Sister Buan as she was about to turn away.
‘You must forgive me, Sister. You are right. There is much on my mind. But I have been checking on your situation. I can tell you the position now, if you like. It is not complicated.’
‘Come inside my chamber and let us be comfortable while you tell me. My chamber, as you may recall, is just here.’ The woman indicated a doorway. She seemed almost fawning now in her eagerness. Fidelma felt sorry for her. She was about to explain her hesitation when Eadulf came hurrying up through the darkness.
‘Ah, there you are…’ He paused when he realised that Fidelma was not alone. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I did not see that you were with Sister Buan.’
Fidelma gestured towards the door that Sister Buan had just opened.
‘I am just going to explain some law to Sister Buan. It will not take a moment, so you can come in and wait for me.’
Sister Buan was immediately deprecating.
‘It does not matter, Sister. Come and see me when you are not so pressed. I do not want to keep you from your companion.’
Fidelma shook her head with a smile.
‘There is no time like the present. It will not take long. And you are right, I have kept you waiting long enough for the information.’
Sister Buan was almost reluctant as Fidelma and Eadulf entered her chamber and seated themselves. Afterwards, Fidelma realised that Buan might have been embarrassed to discuss her marriage contract before Eadulf, but by then it was too late.
‘When we were last here, Buan, you told me that Abbot Erc had been against your marriage to the Venerable Cinaed but you had legally been married by an ordained priest from the abbey of Colman. Can that be proved?’
The woman nodded quickly. ‘It can.’
‘Therefore, under the law, you are legally a cetmuintir.’
‘That was my understanding.’
‘You asked me for a legal opinion as to whether in these circumstances you could keep the possessions of the Venerable Cinaed, your late husband, and seek some compensation for the manner in which he met his death.’
‘I did so.’
‘I examined the law texts in the abbey library. As I see it, the Dire text puts limitations on your ability to make a contract without the authorisation of your father, a foster father, or, as a member of the religieuse, the abbess or abbot of your community. But even with those limitations, and even in a marriage, such as apparently yours was, where a wife has brought no goods or property into the marriage, the wife can still impugn contracts relating to personal goods.’
‘What does that mean, Sister?’ asked the woman, looking bewildered.