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‘It gives rise to several questions,’ Eadulf asserted.

Bishop Ordgar sat back with eyes narrowed. ‘Then ask them,’ he said.

‘Let us start with the wine. You imply it was drugged?’

‘I state it was drugged,’ the man corrected. ‘Nothing but drugged wine would have such an effect on me.’

‘Where did this wine come from?’

‘I don’t understand.’ Bishop Ordgar seemed confused. ‘Do you mean what vineyard supplied it?’

‘Who gave you this wine?’

Brother Benevolentia coughed nervously and stepped forward to say, ‘It was I who placed the wine by the bed of the bishop. I do so every night, since it is his custom to take a drink before retiring. It helps to induce sleep and…and…’

Eadulf saw a look of annoyance form on the bishop’s features as if he felt the steward was revealing flaws in his nature that he would best like to keep hidden.

‘And this wine was bought from where?’ pressed Eadulf.

‘I purchased a small amphora in the local market.’

‘And where was this amphora kept?’

‘In the chamber of the bishop. It was a small amphora of red wine so there was no need to take it to the cooler cellars.’

‘So wine had already been drunk from it before? It was not newly bought wine?’

‘The bishop had been served from the same amphora during the preceding three or four days.’

‘And, that night, you poured the cup with your own hand,’ Eadulf went on.

‘I did.’

‘Where is the amphora now?’

‘It was thrown away as it had been emptied that night.’

‘I suppose the cup was also thrown away?’ Eadulf remarked dryly.

‘It was washed and cleaned the next day,’ replied Brother Benevolentia complacently.

‘So we have only Ordgar’s word that the wine was drugged.’

‘Since when is my word to be doubted?’ Ordgar demanded in a threatening tone.

Eadulf was unabashed. ‘It is not a question of doubt but a question of confirmation. Tell me, if you are used to drinking wine, how did that wine taste that night?’

‘Taste?’ Brother Ordgar frowned. ‘How do you mean-taste?’

‘Was there anything unusual about it?’

‘No.’ Then he suddenly paused. ‘Except…’

‘Yes?’ Eadulf prompted hopefully.

‘I thought there was a sweeter taste than usual to it. But it was not disagreeable,’ the bishop admitted.

‘Very well. Now, Brother Benevolentia, at what stage in the evening did you pour the wine?’

‘The bell rang in the chapel at the end of prayers. Thinking that the bishop would return straightway, I hurried to his chamber and poured the wine.’

‘Except that I did not return straightway,’ pointed out Ordgar. ‘I went to see Bishop Leodegar to complain about the conduct of the Briton at the council.’

‘Did you wait in the bishop’s chamber until he returned?’ Eadulf asked Brother Benevolentia.

The young man shook his head. ‘I left the wine by the bedside as usual and then returned to my own chamber, where I fell asleep immediately.’

‘And your own chamber is where?’

‘Next to the bishop’s, so that he could call me in the night if I am needed.’

‘Was the door of the bishop’s chamber locked?’

‘Locked? No door is locked in the abbey.’

‘Then anyone could enter the room and have access to the wine at any time?’

‘Yes. The empty amphora was stored in a cupboard out of sight but after I had poured the wine, the cup was left at the bishop’s bedside.’

‘And you were asleep very quickly? You said that you did not hear the bishop return to his chamber.’

‘I did not.’

‘Did you hear the arrival of Abbot Dabhóc or Abbot Cadfan during the night?’

Brother Benevolentia made a negative gesture. ‘As I say, I am a sound sleeper.’

‘When did you wake?’

‘Not until the physician of this abbey, Brother Gebicca, knocked upon my door and told me the bishop had been taken ill; he said he needed my help to remove him to a new chamber where he could be nursed. It was when I entered the room that I saw the body of the Hibernian and the blood and also the unconscious form of the Briton.’

‘And the next morning, was it you who cleared away the remains of the wine and washed the cup?’

Brother Benevolentia shook his head. ‘I think it was Brother Gebicca. He cleared up when the body was taken away.’

‘How long have you been steward to Bishop Ordgar?’ Eadulf asked suddenly.

It was the bishop himself who answered.

‘My last steward died from fever on the voyage. It was while I was visiting the abbey of Divio, on my way here, that I met with Brother Benevolentia and offered him the post.’

‘Divio?’

‘It is a city of the Burgunds which lies north of here,’ supplied Brother Benevolentia. ‘I served in that abbey there as a scribe so have been with Bishop Ordgar for only three weeks.’

Fidelma had stood silently listening in approval to Eadulf’s questioning. Now she felt compelled to ask the bishop a question of her own.

‘How well did you know Abbot Dabhóc?’

‘I knew him not at all. We met formally before the council opened but barely exchanged a few words.’

‘You did not express a difference of opinion in debate?’

‘There have been no debates.’

‘I was told there was an opening session at which acrimonious remarks were passed.’

‘It was not a debate but an assembly where delegates could meet before the start of the working sessions. My quarrel was with Cadfan the Briton,’ asserted the bishop.

‘So you have no idea why Abbot Dabhóc would call at your chamber in the middle of the night?’

‘None whatsoever, unless he was inveigled there by the Welisc who killed him, to lay the blame on me. That is my belief.’

‘You dislike Abbot Cadfan very much, I hear?’

‘They are all the same, these Welisc. They are enemies of my blood. Whining and ungrateful.’

‘Isn’t that understandable?’ asked Fidelma.

Bishop Ordgar jerked his head towards her and his eyes narrowed angrily.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It is not so many years ago that your people crossed the seas and began to drive out the Britons, whom you call “foreigners”-Welisc in your language-from their lands and began to settle on the farms and the villages from which they had been dispossessed. Even now you continue to drive them westward. Do you expect gratitude and kindness from them?’

Bishop Ordgar’s lip curled arrogantly. ‘God showed us the way to the island of the Britons and gave it to us to inhabit.’

‘But it was inhabited already.’

‘Inhabited only by sheep. God would not have made the Welisc sheep if He did not expect them to be shorn.’

‘They have not been shorn so easily,’ Fidelma observed. ‘They still fight for the possession of their lands.’ It was clear that she had no liking for the bishop. ‘If it was God Who showed your people the way, Ordgar of Kent,’ she continued, ‘then He came in a strange disguise. At the time, it was Woden, Tyr, Thurnor and Freya whom you worshipped. You see, I know of your gods, for many of your people worship them still. A generation or two ago, none of the Angles and Saxons knew or cared of the Christ until the missionaries from my people raised you from your idols. Do not blame God nor Christ as the reason why you continue to persecute and dispossess the Christian Britons.’

Brother Ordgar swallowed hard. He was trying to think of some suitable retort when Fidelma turned to Eadulf. Out of courtesy she continued to speak in Latin.