‘There was another son of Beretrude,’ Fidelma replied simply. ‘Another descendant of Gundahar and the line of kings of the Burgunds.’
‘I have only one brother-Gundobad,’ Guntram objected. ‘He was given as a child to the religious. My mother abandoned him to some abbey. I have no other brother.’
‘That is so,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Gundobad grew up in the abbey of Divio, an ambitious young man and more of a warrior than Guntram. But it was Guntram who inherited the title of Lord of the Burgunds from his father. Beretrude realised some time ago that she had abandoned her younger and stronger son to indulge and ruin the elder but weaker son. She decided to correct her mistake.’
‘Are you saying that Beretrude was raising money by selling slaves so that her son in Divio could use it to plan an insurrection?’ Clotaire demanded.
‘Precisely so. It was only when I was told about this second son that everything began to fit into place.’
‘So now we must send to Divio to discover this man,’ sighed Ebroin.
‘He is no longer at Divio. Beretrude’s younger son is here in this abbey.’
For a while there was uproar.
‘Who are you accusing, Fidelma?’ demanded Bishop Leodegar. ‘There are several who come from Divio in this abbey. Are you claiming this was the person who killed Abbot Dabhóc? I do not understand.’
‘Bishop Ordgar and Cadfan are both innocent of that crime,’ confirmed Fidelma. ‘In fact, they were victims of the same crime that was set up to distract suspicion away from the real killer and his intention. But I need to give some words of explanation before I identify the killer. With his mother helping him to devise the plot, Gundobad came to this abbey. Autun was going to be the base of the insurrection of the Burgunds against the Franks. Why? This very council provided the ideal opportunity It was known that Clotaire would come here to give his official approval to the decisions of the council before they were sent to Rome. What better place to assassinate the Frankish King and raise the symbol of insurrection?’
‘The symbol?’ queried Clotaire. ‘What symbol?’
‘I am told that the Burgunds hold a great teacher of the Faith in high regard both as bishop and martyr. His association with Autun is often spoken of with reverence-even Beretrude’s villa stands in a square named after him-the Square of Benignus. The villa bears the symbol of what I am told is the cross of Benignus. What if the leader of the Burgunds came forward bearing the relics of this Benignus before him, calling on the Burgunds to rise up and follow because God blessed this endeavour?’
‘It would be a powerful symbol,’ admitted Bishop Leodegar. ‘But such relics do not exist.’
‘Some people believe that they do. I heard from poor Brother Budnouen that there were rumours and stories about the relics of the Blessed Benignus. He told me that the peasants of this country already spoke of a leader who would carry them aloft and lead them to their former glory and independence.’
Fidelma paused, then went on: ‘Brother Gillucán had told me that his abbot, Dabhóc, came to this abbey bearing a reliquary box containing the bones of the Benén mac Sesenén of Midhe, who was a disciple and successor of our great teacher, the Blessed Patrick. The relics were to be a gift for Bishop Vitalian of Rome.’
The Nuntius Peregrinus interposed in a languid tone, ‘Oh, come, Fidelma. What has your Hibernian bishop to do with Benignus of Autun?’
‘Just this. Benén Mac Sesenén also used the sobriquet of Benignus. On the reliquary box that was to be the gift to the Holy Father, his name was carved on one side, and on the other-clearly in Latin-was his name in religion…Benignus.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘I think you have missed the point,’ countered the Nuntius Peregrinus. ‘This Benignus of Hibernia was certainly not the Benignus who brought Christianity to the Burgunds.’
‘I agree with you, Nuntius,’ replied Fidelma at once. ‘But that did not deter the conspirators. Imagine how delighted they were on hearing that the abbot from Hibernia actually had an ancient reliquary box on which was inscribed the name of Benignus for all to see? How many followers would debate whether the bones inside were those of their apostle Benignus or that of some obscure Hibernian with the same name?’
‘And you believe that this is why Abbot Dabhóc was slain?’ queried the Nuntius. ‘Because of that reliquary box?’
‘I think you already know it,’ she replied.
The Nuntius looked uncertain. ‘What do you mean?’ he demanded.
‘Abbot Dabhóc had told you, when he met you at the amphitheatre, that he had the reliquary box which he would present to you at the end of the council. Then he was murdered. When you heard this, you went to his chamber in search of the reliquary box but could not find it. There was, in your mind, only one person who knew about it and that was Dabhóc’s steward, Brother Gillucán. You and your bodyguard, the custodes who stands beside you now, initially searched his room but did not find it. Still certain that Gillucán must have hidden it in his possession, you both visited the poor young man in the dead of night and threatened him with physical violence unless he told you where the reliquary box was. He could not, and such was his fear that you finally believed him.’
The Nuntius Peregrinus was staring at her in amazement.
‘Truly, you have remarkable powers of deduction, if deduction it is.’
‘Do not fear, Nuntius. It is no more than deduction. Poor Brother Gillucán. He was sick with fear and decided to leave the abbey after he had spoken secretly with me. However, the Burgundian conspirators thought he was leaving for other reasons. They believed that he knew something and would betray them. Curiously enough, what made him even more fearful was the cries of the children being abducted from the Domus Femini which he overheard late one night when he was in the necessarium. And it was in that same necessarium that he was killed, his naked body shoved into the effluence from where it was finally washed into the river and discovered. That was why, when he was found, there was excrement on the body.’
The entire gathering was now hanging onto her every word.
‘So what has happened to this missing reliquary box?’ asked Bishop Leodegar. ‘Who has it?’
‘It had been stolen by the conspirators when Dabhóc was killed, of course.’
‘But why did Abbot Dabhóc take this box to Bishop Ordgar’s chamber?’ the bishop wanted to know.
‘He did not. Abbot Dabhóc was killed in his own chamber from where the box was stolen.’
‘I am confused,’ Clotaire confessed.
‘It is a complicated story,’ admitted Fidelma. ‘When Beretrude’s ambitious son came here he had two confederates apart from his mother. One was Brother Andica, the stonemason, who tried to kill both Eadulf and myself. Fortunately, the statue he pushed down on us did not kill us as intended. While Eadulf was taken to Brother Gebicca, the physician, to have his injury seen to, I went up to look at the plinth from where the statue had fallen. I wanted to make sure whether it had, indeed, fallen of its own accord or whether someone had pried it loose as we passed underneath. My assumption that it had been deliberately pushed down on us was proved correct. Now, a young man, afterwards identified as the stonemason Andica, had offered to show me to the gallery from where the statue fell. As I was examining it, he tried to push me from the galley, misjudged and fell to his death.’
There was a gasp from her listeners. The physician, Brother Gebicca, coughed dryly, dispelling the moment of drama.
‘Are you also saying that the bite of the viper which you received was another attempt to kill you?’
Fidelma shrugged, glancing at Beretrude.