‘You may do so freely,’ she replied.
‘Well, if there is ever help required, you may count on it that you have an influential friend at the Lateran Palace, Sister,’ the Nuntius assured her. ‘And if there is anything I can do here, let me know. Perhaps we can meet later and talk about the passing of the years. The Venerable Gelasius will be eager to hear all that has befallen you.’
‘Then let us meet in the calefactorium before the evening meal,’ suggested Fidelma.
‘Excellent. I shall be there.’
With a wave of his hand, Nuntius Peregrinus turned and hurried away. Behind him, his silent shadow, an armed member of the custodes of the Lateran Palace, reinforcing Peregrinus’ rank as envoy of Vitalian, emerged from a corner and followed him.
‘A small world,’ muttered Eadulf as they continued on to the door.
‘It might be beneficial that the Nuntius remembers us,’ Fidelma remarked. ‘I have a feeling that we might need his help in dealing with Bishop Leodegar.’
Chapter Nine
Fidelma and Eadulf emerged into the great square before the abbey. They walked slowly along the flags to the broad wagonway that led up to the large central courtyard. On one side was the huge wooden door that was the entrance to the Domus Femini. The courtyard itself was pretty enough. There was the inevitable fountain in the centre. It was a marble statue of a strange beast from whose mouth the water gushed. The entrance opposite to that of the Domus Femini had been blocked up, as this obviously led into the male quarters of the abbey. There was one dark arched recess further down off the wagonway, which Eadulf initially thought might lead to a doorway providing a shortcut into the abbey, but he saw that even that was blocked.
They approached the large oak door, which was studded with iron. A rope hung to one side and Fidelma tugged on it. They heard the distant clang of the bell and waited. After a short while, a small hatch in the centre of the door was drawn aside and two pale eyes stared out.
‘I am Sister Fidelma and this is Brother Eadulf. We are here to see the abbatissa, Abbess Audofleda. She is expecting us.’
This received a curt response: ‘Wait!’ Then the hatch was slammed shut.
Fidelma turned and smiled wryly at Eadulf.
‘Not overly welcoming,’ he muttered in response.
Suddenly bolts were drawn noisily back and the big door swung slowly inwards.
A religieuse stood framed in the doorway. She gave the impression of tallness, of an austere face, a large nose, dark, almost black eyebrows and bright blue eyes. Her hands were folded in front of her, hidden within the folds of her black robe.
‘Enter,’ she commanded, taking a step backward to allow them to do so.
They became aware of another religieuse, who was obviously the doorkeeper, pushing shut the heavy door behind them. Once again, the sound of the bolts being pushed home was like the blow of a hammer falling on an anvil.
‘Are you Abbess Audofleda?’ asked Fidelma.
The woman sniffed in disapproval. ‘I am Sister Radegund,’ she replied curtly. ‘I serve the abbatissa. You will follow me.’ Her manner was as sharp as her features.
Without further ado, she turned and walked swiftly along an arched corridor into a small quadrangle, veered right and followed another short corridor to a circular stone stairwell. Taking the stairs with surprising speed, without once glancing behind to see if they were following, she then set off along another passageway. Eadulf had seen many religious houses but none with such an air of gloom. The male section of the abbey was grey and brooding enough, but the Domus Femini was infinitely worse. He felt quite depressed as he looked around the grey stone walls hoping for some relief-some flowers, icons, wall paintings-anything to relieve the drabness that reminded him of a fortress rather than a house devoted to the worship of God.
Sister Radegund halted abruptly outside a door.
She finally turned and glanced at Fidelma and Eadulf for a moment, almost as if ensuring that they were presentable enough to be shown into the presence. Then she rapped upon the door. A voice came faintly bidding them enter.
They were shown into the study of Abbess Audofleda. Although the abbatissa and her sisters had attended the morning and evening services, they had been invisible to Fidelma and Eadulf because they entered the chapel by a separate route and were shielded from the brethren by wooden screens. Abbess Audofleda was seated behind her table and wore a head-dress which was drawn back so that her face was fully visible, but covering her hair. A woman of middle age, she could never have been described as attractive, thanks to the bony forehead, jutting jawline and large nose with a prominent bump that could almost be described as hooked. The eyes were pale and without compassion. The lips were thin, and the skin ashen where it was not blotched upon the cheeks.
‘This is Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf, abbatissa,’ intoned Sister Radegund, who stood deferentially before them with hands still folded and eyes downcast.
Abbess Audofleda sat back, her own hands placed firmly on the table in front of her. She stared in disapproval, firstly at Eadulf and then at Fidelma.
‘I am asked by Bishop Leodegar to see you. He says that you have requested to speak with me. For what purpose?’ Her voice was harsh and she spoke Latin badly.
‘We are…’ began Fidelma. She was waved to silence by an imperious gesture of a pale thin hand.
‘I know who you are, Sister. That much was explained when Bishop Leodegar addressed the community in the chapel the other night. You have been allowed to investigate the death of one of the delegates to the council. I disapprove. That is not a woman’s place, especially one who purports to be a religious. However, the bishop has made this curious decision. I was not consulted. My question is, why do you come here?’
Fidelma exchanged a quick glance with Eadulf. Abbess Audofleda was as unfriendly as her looks portended.
‘We have come to address a few questions to you,’ she replied coolly.
‘I see no reason why,’ replied Abbess Audofleda. ‘Our sisterhood is separate from the brothers of the abbey and there is no connection between us and the deaths that have occurred. We know nothing of them nor do we wish to know anything of them.’
Eadulf saw the warning sign as Fidelma’s eyes narrowed.
‘You’ll forgive our impertinence, abbatissa,’ he said hastily, in a conciliatory voice. ‘We have not come here without a good reason, for we believe there is a connection between your sisterhood and the events that took place surrounding the death of Abbot Dabhóc.’
The thin eyebrows of Abbess Audofleda arched.
‘Do you call me a liar?’ she snapped. ‘I said that there are none.’
Eadulf was dismayed by the overt antagonism of the woman.
This time Fidelma had recovered herself sufficiently to attempt to follow Eadulf’s displomatic path.
‘We would not suggest that you have spoken anything but the truth, as you know it. We would only point out that perhaps we have some information that you might not know about.’
‘Which is?’ There was a sneer in Abbess Audofleda’s tone.
‘Sister Valretrade.’
They heard the audible gasp from Sister Radegund. Fidelma saw the warning glance that Abbess Audofleda gave her.
‘What do you know of Sister Valretrade?’ The abbatissa’s eyes were glinting suspiciously.
‘We know that on the night of the killing, she had sent a signal to one of the brethren to meet her, and it was that action which set off the events leading to the discovery of the scene in Bishop Ordgar’s chambers. We need to question her about this as being pertinent to our investigation.’