Enda, who had been a silent listener, was puzzled. ‘Become a what?’
‘It means a religious order regulated by rules,’ Fidelma explained. ‘A few centuries ago, a community of those believing in Christ was established in the deserts of Egypt by a teacher of the religion called Pachomius. That became the model for a cenobium.’
‘That’s correct,’ Brother Eladach agreed. ‘And Abbot Nannid said we should be a cenobium, a religious order regulated by these new religious rules – the Penitentials, as they are called.’
‘Are you saying that he gave you no option?’ Fidelma was astounded.
Brother Eladach shrugged. ‘Abbot Nannid of Mungairit is a powerful man and the Chief Abbot and Bishop in the land of the Ui Fidgente. He not only ordered our workers in wood – I was a carpenter – to construct the walls, but told those of the township that it was their duty to help us if they believed in the New Faith. Within two months the walls, as you see, were built to surround our community and separate us from the people.’
Fidelma frowned. ‘Let me be perfectly clear on this, Brother Eladach. Are you saying that Abbot Nannid and Brother Cuineain came here seven months ago and ordered you to construct a walled community, a cenobium, and they have remained here ever since?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘Then Abbot Nannid and his steward did not come here recently just for the council with Abbot Segdae of Imleach?’
‘He had been settled here for many months before he suggested the council,’ agreed the aistreoir.
‘And you are also telling us that Abbot Nannid has more or less taken over as abbot of your community?’ Eadulf pressed.
‘I suppose he has. As I said, we did not have an abbot leading our community before. Nannid told me that I should regard myself as doorkeeper of the community and no one should be allowed in or out of the cenobium without his permission or without authority. In previous days, the townsfolk could move freely among us, and us among them. We were indivisible with the townsfolk. They even came to our little gatherings at the chapel and under the oak.’
‘Is it not strange that the abbot of such a large community as Mungairit, which is renowned for its scholars, suddenly comes to your community, deserting his own community, and chooses to stay for such a long while, exerting his authority over you?’ mused Fidelma.
‘He is chief over all the monasteries,’ sighed the doorkeeper. ‘I suppose he can stay where he wants.’
‘He is abbot of one of the great teaching centres of the Five Kingdoms. Does it not make you curious? Is there any communication between here and Mungairit?’
Brother Eladach shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I am not aware of any messengers that he sends. I know he raised gold and silver from us to send there. I hope you will not tell him that this conversation took place?’
Fidelma saw the pleading look in his eyes. ‘Of course. We merely came in search of your nephew,’ she said. ‘Is there any other place where he might go, outside of the fortress or this community?’
‘Well, he often takes a stroll by the river, along where the trading boats are moored and some of the merchants conduct business.’
‘We will look there. But should you see him before we do, kindly tell him that we are looking for him.’
‘Is something wrong?’ Brother Eladach queried anxiously.
‘No. I just need to ask him a question or two,’ she reassured him before she turned to leave.
With Eadulf and Enda, she strolled across the market square in the direction of the wooden quays. There seemed to be a lot of people moving among the boats tied up alongside, and the stalls. Women as well as men were making purchases from traders who were landing goods along the quays. Their cargoes mainly consisted of foodstuffs – sacks of grain, vegetables, fish and meat. However, there were other goods such as metalwork and pottery, although the visitors had already noticed that the township had its fair share of smiths and potters. There were a few places where one could buy food and drink, which apparently served the traders while they conducted business. These were hardly more than shacks and certainly nothing like the inns where people might stay the night.
Fidelma seemed deep in thought but Eadulf could no longer contain himself.
‘I was wondering whether our trust in Ciarnat’s word might be misplaced.’
Fidelma glanced at him. ‘Do you think I have been trusting her completely, then?’ she asked.
Eadulf pulled a face. ‘I had. But the fact that two of her brothers died at Cnoc Aine might put a different complexion on matters.’
‘In what way?’
‘She might not be as supportive of the Eoghanacht as she pretends to be. Her brothers were killed by your brother’s warriors. Now she has to support her elderly mother in their place.’
‘Cnoc Aine happened several years ago and Eoganan’s successor, Prince Donennach, has made peace with my brother.’
‘Nevertheless, everyone except Ciarnat claims that Gorman’s warning was taken seriously. If she was wrong about that, or if she lied deliberately, what else has she told us that might be wrong?’
‘She says she was told this by Brother Mael Anfaid. Now we must find him and hear what he has to say.’
They moved on along the quays. They saw a few religious and questioned them but with negative results. There was no sign of Brother Mael Anfaid. One man, an ale-seller at one of the shacks, volunteered that he had seen the religieux from Imleach pass by some time earlier. He knew the brother by sight for he had often paused for a mug of ale on previous days. But there was certainly no sign of him along the riverbank now.
A sudden cry from behind made them turn. It was Conri, on horseback. He came trotting up. There was an unreadable expression on his features.
‘Lady,’ he called down without dismounting, ‘you must all come back to the fortress at once.’
‘What is wrong?’ Fidelma was alerted by the unusual note in his voice.
‘It’s Ciarnat, lady. She has been found hanged.’
CHAPTER TEN
Conri, once dismounted, led them across the courtyard of the fortress, towards Airmid’s herb garden and apothecary. They had barely entered the gate into the garden when Airmid emerged to meet them. Her attitude was one of anger and aggression.
‘What did you say to her?’ she almost shouted at Fidelma. ‘What did you say that made that young girl take her own life?’
Fidelma halted, shocked at the verbal assault. The accusation that she had caused the death of Ciarnat stunned her for the moment.
‘Nothing was said that threatened her – in fact, the very opposite,’ Eadulf intervened, coming to Fidelma’s defence. ‘She was only depressed by her incarceration but we promised her that it wouldn’t be long until we showed that she had not been involved in the escape of Gorman.’
Brehon Faolchair had now emerged from the living quarters behind the apothecary and apparently had overheard the exchange. He was shaking his head sadly.
‘It is true, Airmid. I spoke to Ciarnat after Fidelma left. I was passing your apothecary and saw Fidelma and her companions leaving. Ciarnat came to the gate and we had a conversation. She did not seem troubled, nor was she unduly depressed.’
Fidelma turned to the Brehon inquisitively. ‘What did you talk about?’
‘She was asking how long she would be confined here in the house of Airmid. I told her that, in spite of Abbot Nannid, it would not be for much longer. She also asked if I had seen Brother Mael Anfaid. I wondered why she should be looking for him. She did not tell me … but it was the third question which I found most curious. She asked me the same question that you were asking this morning: had Prince Donennach taken Gorman’s warning about Glaed to heart?’