Fidelma was puzzled, not having come across the word before.
‘Necessarium?’ she repeated.
‘The latrina. It was before dawn and I…the call of nature…’
‘Go on,’ Fidelma said impatiently. ‘I am not so sheltered from life that I need protection from natural functions of the body.’
‘I was sitting in the necessarium when I heard a low wailing sound. The cries of souls in torment-that is the only way I can describe the sound. Then cries of terror, wailing in fear and anguish. It was terrible to listen to. I have to admit, I fled from the room and did not stir until well after first light.’
It was clear that the young man had truly heard something that had frightened the wits out of him.
‘Where did these sounds come from?’ Fidelma probed. ‘You say that you were in the necessarium-so were the sounds in the same room?’
Brother Gillucán stared at her for a moment.
‘They seemed to come from the walls,’ he said. ‘That is it! They came from the walls. The voices of the cursed.’
‘Where is this necessarium?’
‘On the ground floor, beyond the refectory.’ He swallowed nervously. ‘I feel that this place is cursed, Sister. I cannot wait for dawn tomorrow, when I will start back for the kingdom of Ulaidh.’
Fidelma regarded the frightened young man with sympathy.
‘If you wish, you could accompany Brother Eadulf and myself back to the five kingdoms, or even go with Abbot Ségdae and his steward.’
‘After what has happened to my abbot and then to me, the quicker I leave this city, the better I shall like it,’ he said. ‘No, I shall leave in the morning with the pilgrims for Mágh Bhíle, as I have said.’
‘Then God be on every road that you travel,’ Fidelma replied gravely.
Brother Gillucán rose quickly. ‘If you do find the abbot’s reliquary box, please remember it was a gift from Ard Macha to Rome.’
‘I will remember it, Brother Gillucán.’
‘Then may God protect you in this evil place, Sister.’ He moved to the door, halted before it and looked back apologetically.
‘Sister, would you mind checking that the corridor is empty?’
She rose without a word and went to the door to open it. A swift glance up and down the corridor ensured that no one was within sight.
She stood back and he slipped out.
‘Slán abhaile,’ she whispered, feeling sorry for the frightened young man. Safe home.
Chapter Eight
Eadulf had returned frustrated, not having found Abbot Ségdae. The latter and some other delegates were apparently holding a meeting on some of the proposals that would have to be discussed by the council when it was finally convened. The abbot had given orders that they were not to be disturbed. Fidelma was philosophical and decided that they would wait until the next day before going to see the Abbess Audofleda. She took the opportunity to tell Eadulf about her visitor.
‘So now we are told that the abbey is haunted?’ he said, his tone sceptical.
‘The young man heard something. It doesn’t mean that his interpretation is the correct one.’
‘Perhaps I should examine this necessarium,’ mused Eadulf. The hospitia had its own latrina so he had not seen the one that was for general use. He had not expected to be taken seriously, but Fidelma agreed.
‘Find out its location and make a visit there later tonight when all is quiet. With luck, you may stumble across some reasonable explanation for what young Gillucán thought he heard.’
Eadulf groaned inwardly. Truth to tell, he retained some of the superstitions of his pagan upbringing and still believed in malignant spirits. Fidelma pretended not to notice his woebegone expression.
‘What is of more concern to me is the fact that Abbot Dabhóc was carrying a valuable gift for the Bishop of Rome-this reliquary box. Did whoever killed him steal it?’
Eadulf sprawled into the chair that had been earlier vacated by the young man.
‘Well, if they did, they were certainly not the two men who later visited Gillucán and threatened him with a knife,’ he commented.
‘How do you reach that conclusion?’ Fidelma asked.
‘Simple enough. If they already had the box, having ransacked Dabhóc’s chamber, why would they search Gillucán’s room and then return a second time in the middle of the night to threaten him with a knife, asking the question, “Where is it?”’
‘The “it” in question being a reference to the reliquary box?’
‘I think that is a logical deduction,’ Eadulf agreed.
‘But that brings up another question,’ Fidelma said. ‘Who, then, did take this mysterious box?’
‘Or did Abbot Dabhóc hide it somewhere safe before his death and now no one can find it?’ Eadulf said. ‘Should we not have another examination of his chamber?’
‘We will, but we must also consider whether this matter is relevant to his murder, or simply a coincidence. And, of course, if either Ordgar or Cadfan were involved in the murder-why would they want this reliquary box?’
‘It would not be the first time members of the Faith have been tempted by temporal wealth or by some religious icon,’ Eadulf commented.
Fidelma had to acknowledge he was right but did not feel satisfied that this was the answer.
‘We don’t know if it was valuable. That would depend on whose relics were in the box. From the name Gillucán gave me, I cannot think that it is anyone well venerated.’
‘What was the name again?’
‘Benén was the name on the box, according to Gillucán.’
Eadulf frowned. ‘Benén. There are many who have entered the religious who call themselves by that name. They think it makes them of a more holy disposition. When I was a student at Tuam Brecain, I knew a few of that name. And-’ He suddenly sat up straight. ‘Do you mean Benén mac Sesenén of Midhe?’
Fidelma stared at him. ‘The successor of Patrick?’ she asked.
‘The same,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘You should know his work well, for he was one of the three representatives of the Church who sat on the nine-man commission who edited the laws of the Fénechus and produced the Senchus Mór-the great law book by which you Brehons set such great store.’
‘Benén,’ she echoed. He had been the favourite disciple of Patrick, his co-adjutor at Ard Macha, and he also wrote Patrick’s biography. ‘Of course, Benén!’
They were silent for a few moments.
‘Why would the bishop of Ard Macha send the relics of Benén to Rome?’ Fidelma wondered, almost to herself. ‘He never left Ulaidh or Midhe during his temporal life, so why send them there? There seems no connection.’
Eadulf shrugged. ‘That is a question beyond my answering.’
There came a tap on the door. It was Abbot Ségdae.
‘I am told that you were looking for me, Brother Eadulf? I was in a meeting with some of the Armorican abbots.’
It was Fidelma who told him of the problems that they were facing.
‘I thought this had all been clearly agreed by Bishop Leodegar,’ the abbot said peevishly. ‘Perhaps you are right. He wields such a strong hand with his community here that it could well be that no one, not even his steward, will do anything without his direct approval.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I will have another word with him on his return and insist that he makes clear that you can question whoever you want, whenever you want and wherever you want.’ He added heavily, ‘Some of the delegates are speaking of withdrawing from this council. Already there is talk that the council is cursed.’
Fidelma examined the abbot with surprise. ‘Cursed? It is unlike clerics to use such strong language, Ségdae.’