‘He made no mention of this to me. Where is your chamber in relationship to the abbot’s? Did you hear anything of this search?’
‘I am in the adjoining corridor, Sister. So I heard nothing.’
‘Was anything further said about this matter? Was a search made for the missing belongings? Perhaps some enterprising but misled brother, thinking the abbot had no need for the clothes, had appropriated them?’ She knew there was a custom of sharing the clothes of a dead religious among the poor.
Brother Gillucán shook his head. ‘It was not just clothing that was taken. Everything was gone.’
‘What is your definition of everything?’
‘Money carried by the abbot, funds to cover our journey, letters from the Bishop of Ard Macha to various dignitaries which were kept in a book satchel, the abbot’s missal and some gifts-one in particular…’ His mouth snapped shut suddenly and he looked about with an almost exaggerated conspiratorial glance.
Fidelma examined him with interest. ‘And this particular gift…what was that?’
The young man lowered his voice. ‘Abbot Dabhóc had been entrusted by Bishop Ségéne with a precious gift to be handed to His Holiness.’
‘To the Bishop of Rome?’ asked Fidelma in surprise.
‘An emissary of Vitalian is attending this council to give the Holy Father’s personal blessing to it.’
‘I know. And so there was a gift brought from Ard Macha for this envoy to take to Rome?’
‘There was.’
‘Are you suggesting that Abbot Dabhóc had not passed that gift to the emissary before it was stolen?’
‘Just so. There was to be a ceremony of presentation at the end of the council.’
‘And the nature of the gift?’
‘I did not know exactly.’
‘So what-exactly-did you know?’
‘The gift was housed in a reliquary. Abbot Dabhóc carried it in a special sack and never let it out of his sight on the journey here. I caught a glimpse of it once. It was a box of wood and metal, inlaid and encrusted with many precious and semi-precious jewels.’
‘I have often seen the like,’ Fidelma admitted. ‘Our metalworkers are famous for such fine works of art. A reliquary box would obviously indicate that it contained some holy relics.’
Brother Gillucán shrugged. ‘I presume so, but I cannot swear to it. Abbot Dabhóc never spoke to me of the box nor of its contents.’
‘I still cannot see why you are fearful.’
‘I’ll come to that. But about this box: as I say, someone had doubtless carried it away on the night that the abbot was killed. Then the night afterwards, my own room was also searched.’
‘Yes, you have said that Brother Chilperic insisted on searching your room.’
‘No, it was searched again.’
‘What was taken?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing at all?’
The steward shook his head.
‘So it was not Brother Chilperic, searching again to ensure that he had not missed anything?’
‘I asked him. It was not.’
‘And you had not been entrusted with anything from the abbot that might warrant a search?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Curious,’ mused Fidelma. ‘Why would they go through your room then? It seemed they already had the money and the reliquary box.’
‘I do not know, Sister. I only feel that there are eyes in all the dark corners of this abbey-watching, waiting!’
‘And you have became fearful in consequence?’
‘There is more.’
‘Then tell me all, for I cannot make judgements on half-stories.’
‘I only became fearful two nights later. You see, I awoke in my chamber. It was dark and I was aware of someone bending over me; a hand was on my mouth and a sharp blade at my throat.’
Fidelma sat up a little straighter. ‘Go on.’
‘A voice said: “Where is it?” and the hand was removed so that I could answer.’
‘Where is it?’ she repeated.
‘Exactly so. I replied that I did not know what they meant.’ Brother Gillucán carefully turned his head sideways and pointed to a thin red line across his neck. It was not deep and already healing, but significant enough. Certainly, a blade had been held there. ‘That was the reply. And so I cried out, “Do not kill me for my ignorance. Tell me what you want and I will try to help.” The voice said: “Did your master give it to you?” And I-’
‘Master? What language did the intruder address you in?’
‘It was in Latin, Sister. That is the language we have to use in common here.’
‘And what did you reply?’
‘Having assumed it was Abbot Dabhóc of whom he spoke, I responded that he had given me nothing. Nor could I help them, for his room had been emptied.’
‘What then?’
‘The knife’s pressure increased and I cried out once more that I could not help them and for the sake of pity to spare my life. I am sure the man holding me down on the bed would have cut my throat. Then another voice, a voice in the darkness behind him, said, “Leave him. He obviously knows nothing.” The person holding me said: “Say nothing of this for if you do, we will return when you least expect it.” I heard them exit my chamber and lay for a long time not knowing what to do.’
‘And what language was this exchange conducted in?’
‘Still in Latin.’
‘Did you report the matter?’
Brother Gillucán shook his head dejectedly. ‘I want to live and return to Tulach Óc. However, I have heard of you and Brother Eadulf, and I knew that I should tell you what I know. That is why I have done so, but with discretion. I want no one to know that I have seen you.’
‘I understand. How will you return home to Tulach Óc?’
‘There are some pilgrims from Mágh Bhíle who are on their way back from Rome. They stayed in this city last night, and leave tomorrow. I shall go with them, and be thankful to do so.’
‘And you cannot describe these missing belongings of Abbot Dabhóc further?’
Brother Gillucán hesitated. ‘As I said, I caught sight of the reliquary box only once.’
‘And?’ encouraged Fidelma.
The young man screwed up his eyes as if to conjure the image before him.
‘It was of copper, some tin, enamel and a wood base. It was in the shape of a hexagonal house, with a pitched roof and gable ends, as is typical of the reliquary boxes made by our craftsmen.’
‘You mentioned jewels?’
‘There are decorative mouldings, mounts with red enamel and settings in which emeralds are cast. I do not think they were coloured glass settings. No, I think they were precious and semi-precious stones.’
‘And the size?’
‘Perhaps fourteen centimetres at the base, perhaps ten centimetres deep and five in width.’
Fidelma nodded, for most reliquary boxes from the five kingdoms were made roughly to those dimensions.
‘Oh, and I forgot-there were words engraved on the lid.’
‘Which were?’
‘One name was Benén.’
‘Just that name?’ queried Fidelma, for it was a popular name used among certain of her people.
‘That is all I remember. But there was another name inscribed on it. I can’t recall it.’
‘Well, little things can mount up,’ said Fidelma. ‘I think you have been very wise in telling me what you know, Brother Gillucán. However, we are dealing with beings in corporeal from and not the legions of the cursed as you have described them. “Souls in torment”, I think you said.’
The young man shook his head gloomily. ‘Truly, Sister, there are souls in torment in this abbey. Voices crying out in pain and agony. I have heard them,’ he added with emphasis.
Fidelma wanted to smile but kept her features controlled, for the young man was in earnest.
‘Perhaps you could tell me what you heard and in what circumstances.’
But Brother Gillucán seemed nervous and was having difficulty in making up his mind to speak further. Eventually he said: ‘I went to the necessarium,’ and flushed a little.