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They made their way across the courtyard to the main entrance of the chapel.

It was dark inside and, of course, the weather did not help with its grey, shadowy clouds. A small lantern lit the entrance beyond the doorway and two candles spluttered on the altar although they did not give out any meaningful light.

Fidelma and Eadulf stood by the entrance waiting until their eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. At first there seemed no one in the chapel. Everything was so still that even the steady beat of raindrops came like the sound of noisy pebbles on the roof above.

‘Brother Madagan?’ called Fidelma softly, her voice echoing in the vaulted tranquillity of the chapel. Her voice came back to her as a soft sighing echo.

At once there came the sound of a throat being cleared. A shadow moved from behind a pillar at the far side of the dark interior.

‘Sister Fidelma?’

The figure was still shrouded in the gloom but they recognised Brother Madagan, the rechtaire or steward of Abbot Ségdae, by his voice.

‘But no longer a Sister of the Faith, as you should know,’ replied Fidelma gravely.

‘Forgive me, lady. I had heard that you left the religious to pursue the law more vigorously.’

‘How is your chill, Brother Madagan?’

‘Much improved, lady; though it was sad that I had to miss the meal last night.’ He peered closer towards her. ‘Is that Brother Eadulf with you?’

‘Indeed, it is,’ replied Eadulf, stepping forward.

‘I was going to make myself known to your brother. Where is he?’

‘He has gone to the township in the company of Dego.’

‘I am anxious to hear what happened when he was attacked on the river. I hear a senior cleric of Rome was killed. Has he told you much about it?’

‘Little enough. But didn’t you see him at the funeral last night?’

‘I missed him in the darkness, especially after the intervention of the mad nephew of Brother Conchobhar.’

‘Do you think he is mad?’ intervened Fidelma.

‘It was certainly madness that spoke last night,’ Brother Madagan declared.

‘You mean Deogaire making his prophecy?’ asked Fidelma.

‘That is exactly what I mean,’ confirmed the steward with some vehemence. ‘Sacrilege. The young man should be punished. You know the old saying — woe to him who considers his opinion a certainty! Woe to the bringers of warnings and prophecies!’

‘Is not the Holy Scripture full of warnings and prophecies?’ replied Fidelma gently.

‘Not with sacrilegious pagan nonsense,’ the man snapped.

‘You mean because he used terms from the Holy Scripture?’

‘That he chose a funeral to utter his warning was blasphemous, as it was also disrespectful.’

‘As I recall, discretion was not a virtue with Deogaire. But it is not of him that I wish to speak.’

Brother Madagan sniffed in disapproval. ‘What is it?’

‘Let us sit awhile.’ Fidelma pointed to a bench by the pillar, where light from a window illuminated the area. When they were seated, she went on: ‘I was told you were passing this chapel just before Brother Cerdic’s body was found. Did you see anyone at that time — anyone emerging from the chapel?’

Brother Madagan paused for a moment, as if trying to recall. ‘I saw no one. However, I did hear some shouting. I glanced back and saw Brother Eadulf calling to old Brother Conchobhair and Deogaire. Was that when the body. .?’

‘I had just found the body,’ Eadulf explained unnecessarily. ‘Brother Cerdic came to the Abbey of Imleach and then accompanied you and the abbot here. I was wondering whether, during that time, he said or did anything which might have indicated that he had made an enemy, or mentioned anything which could have suggested he would be victim to this lethal assault?’

Brother Madagan gave a derisive snort. ‘He was a most arrogant fellow, who would have done well to remember that he was not among his own people and their customs!’

‘I am told that you nearly lost your temper with him when he came to Imleach,’ Eadulf said in a mild tone.

Brother Madagan was indifferent. ‘That is true. He provoked me with his conceit.’

‘I had not realised that you spoke my tongue, Brother Madagan,’ Eadulf went on.

‘Did you not? It is a matter of little importance except that Brother Cerdic had no word of our language. His Latin was indifferent and his Greek was non-existent. That was why Brother Rónán of Fearna had to act as his guide and interpreter.’

‘Where did you learn the Saxon tongue?’ It was Fidelma who posed the question this time.

‘I spent some time in the town of Láirge, the harbour on the coast. Many travellers from foreign places, especially those who come to study at our colleges, make their landfall there. I spent two summers there teaching students from the kingdoms of the Saxons before they travelled on to colleges like Darú.’

‘Let us return to Brother Cerdic,’ Eadulf said. ‘I understand you were in attendance when he and Brother Rónán told the abbot about the nature of their business.’

‘Of course. As rechtaire it was my duty.’

‘So tell me, exactly how did he explain the purpose of this deputation led by Bishop Arwald?’

Brother Madagan sighed. ‘That was the problem. He did not. He simply said that this deputation was coming to Cashel and required the attendance of the abbot. It was nothing short of an order.’

‘Did he mention that he had called at Cill Náile and requested the presence of Abbess Líoch?’

‘That he did not mention. I later heard it from Brother Rónán.’

‘And what did Brother Rónán have to say?’

‘I think he was as frustrated as we were. He had not been privy to the discussions with Bishop Arwald when the deputation was at Fearna. So he could not even tell us what had been discussed. I think he was grateful when, having guided Brother Cerdic to Imleach, he was able to set out to return to Fearna.’

‘And Brother Cerdic was not forthcoming at all on his journey with you and the abbot?’

‘When he spoke, it was as if he were commanding servants to do his bidding. That was what caused my anger.’

‘So he had the ability to anger people?’ pressed Eadulf.

‘Had he been killed anywhere outside of Cashel, I would not have been surprised.’

‘What do you mean?’ demanded Fidelma.

‘Simply that some people might have taken offence at his manner, as did I.’ Brother Madagan was gloomy. ‘Let us pray that this bishop is not as hateful as his messenger.’

‘Did Brother Cerdic have anything to say about Bishop Arwald?’ Eadulf asked.

‘Little enough. He was more concerned about some cleric who was accompanying the bishop.’

‘Some cleric? Can you be more specific?’

‘It was the cleric from Rome. He told us that it was some scholar.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Ah, I have the name now. His name was Verax. That’s it — the Venerable Verax, son of Anastasius of Segni.’

Eadulf drew in his breath sharply, causing Fidelma to glance at him in surprise.

‘Are you sure of the name?’ he asked.

‘Such a foreign name does stick in one’s memory,’ asserted Brother Madagan. ‘Why?’

‘I. . It’s just that I have heard the name spoken of when I was in Rome,’ Eadulf replied lamely. ‘That is all.’

Fidelma cast a thoughtful glance at him before turning back to the steward of Imleach.

‘Why do you think Brother Cerdic was concerned with him?’

‘Difficult to say, lady. His voice had a tone of respect when he mentioned Verax’s name. I think he was in awe of this aged and renowned scholar. That’s all.’

‘Brother Cerdic gave you absolutely no idea of the purpose of the coming of this Venerable Verax and Bishop Arwald?’

‘Only that it was to be an important discussion which Abbot Ségdae must attend in the presence of the King of Cashel.’

‘I do not like it,’ Eadulf commented.