There was no time to say any more because Brother Metellus had reappeared, in the company of an elderly man. The latter was stocky in appearance, with a fleshy moon face and red cheeks. His hair, while bearing the tonsure of Peter, was a silver-grey and with thick curls at its ends. The eyes were dark, and there was some unfathomable quality to them as if they were a mask rather than expressive of the personality of the man. He wore black robes and around his neck was a golden chain with a crucifix denoting that he held the rank of Abbot.
His lips parted in what was meant as a smile of welcome but his features held no warmth behind the greeting.
‘Pax vobiscum. Greetings, my children. You are welcome to our little community.’ He spoke in Latin.
‘Pax tecum,’ they replied almost in unison.
‘Brother Metellus has told me of your adventure but, Deo iuvante, you have survived.’
‘Indeed, with God’s help,’ muttered Eadulf.
‘Brother Metellus also tells me that you have been rendered without means of support. You may be in luck — we are expecting a merchant, called Biscam, to arrive here shortly. Biscam comes regularly to our community and he will be returning to Naoned within a few days. I am sure that he would offer you his protection and a place among his wagons as far as the port. Brother Metellus tells me that ships from many quarters of the world use the port, including those from your own land. I am sure you will be able to find a safe passage back.’
The man spoke firmly as if there would be no questioning of what he had decided.
‘You are most kind…’ began Fidelma.
The Abbot barely heard her before cutting in: ‘But until the merchant arrives…well, we must secure you some shelter. Beyond the abbey is a little village of fisherfolk.’ He paused and made a curious gesture with a motion of his hand. ‘You see, we are a community of monks, those who have taken vows of chastity in accordance with what we believe is the true path to God. There is no place, no facilities, for a woman here.’
‘I was told that a local chieftain has his fortress nearby and perhaps, out of respect for my brother, the King of Muman, he might give us hospitality and ensure our safe passage home,’ interposed Fidelma.
A frown of annoyance crossed Abbot Maelcar’s features. He clearly did not like to have his own plans questioned.
‘The Lord of Brilhag is not resident in his fortress. In fact, I believe he is presently in Naoned with the King. Best that you travel there as soon as Biscam, the merchant, departs.’
‘I have no wish to impose on your community,’ Fidelma said coldly.
‘Neither shall you,’ replied the Abbot with equanimity. ‘Brother Metellus will take you to the village and arrange your beds and also meals. You have the freedom of all places except the abbey buildings themselves.’ He paused and shrugged. ‘The reasons for that are obvious. The harmony and peace of our community cannot be disturbed. While Brother…er, Eadulf,’ he struggled with the unfamiliar name, ‘can join us if he wishes, either at meals or services, we cannot extend such hospitality to you, Sister. Our rules are strict.’
‘I will not bother you, Abbot,’ Eadulf intervened quickly, before Fidelma had a chance to respond. There was irritation on her face and he knew her response would be critical. ‘We will be content with whatever arrangements you suggest, and thank you for your generosity. Are we not like that traveller from Jerusalem to Jericho who was set upon by robbers and left destitute and for dead? And have you not come as the Samaritan did to take pity on us? For this much we applaud your beneficence, Father Abbot.’
Fidelma was puzzled for a moment because the speech was so unlike Eadulf. Then she realised that he was using gentle irony to deflect the Abbot’s thoughts. Abbot Maelcar apparently did not hear any mockery in what was said but merely nodded seriously.
‘Although I do not approve of the path you have taken, Brother Eadulf,’ he glanced from Eadulf to Fidelma, ‘we are Christians together and must fulfil the tenets of our Faith that are compassion and charity. It is God’s will that soon all the churches of these western lands will come into accord with Rome and every abbey and monastery will adopt the Rule of the Blessed Benedict. Only a few days ago, I received news of the ordinances of the Council at Autun, which has ordained that this Rule of Benedict be adopted by every religious community. Any other course leads to profligacy and depravity. Unless our churches here abandon those ways, there is no reward in heaven.’
Fidelma swallowed hard but Eadulf nodded quickly.
‘Each sheep comes to the shepherd in his own way,’ he smiled easily. ‘It may interest you to know that we were among the delegates to the Council of Autun.’ He ignored Fidelma’s frown of warning.
‘Delegates?’ The Abbot’s eyes shot up on his forehead in surprise. ‘It was a Council of bishops and abbots. Why would you be among the delegates?’
‘Sister Fidelma was asked to act as legal adviser to the Abbot of Imleach, the premier bishop of her brother’s kingdom,’ Eadulf said.
For the first time during this conversation, Brother Metellus cleared his throat and bent in deferential manner towards the Abbot.
‘Sister Fidelma is a legal advocate in her own land,’ he began to explain.
‘When is this merchant, Biscam, due to arrive here?’ asked Fidelma, cutting in sharply, and determined to draw the conversation back to the immediate problem.
‘Biscam? He should be here within the next day or two. He and his brothers have been trading with us for many years.’
‘Then we shall trouble you no further, Abbot Maelcar.’ Fidelma glanced about the abbey grounds as if noticing them for the first time and commented: ‘You have a beautiful place here.’
The Abbot’s eyes widened at the change of subject. ‘It was a spot chosen by the Blessed Gildas,’ he replied.
‘Your herb garden is especially fragrant and well kept.’
‘God blesses the hands of our brethren in their tending of the plants.’
‘I saw that the abbey has a cat and I presume that you keep it to fend off the pests that sometimes dominate in a garden.’
This time Abbot Maelcar looked puzzled. ‘The abbey does not have a cat,’ he replied.
‘No?’ Fidelma feigned surprise. ‘The abbey does not have a large black cat?’
‘We have no cat at all.’
‘But I saw it wandering through the gardens.’
‘Then it must be one from the village. And now…’ The Abbot left the sentence unfinished as a token of dismissal.
‘Of course. Forgive me. We have kept you for too long from your duties.’
‘We will doubtless meet again before you leave our community,’ the Abbot said, before turning and walking back towards the single-storey building.
Brother Metellus had been standing in silence, his head bowed and his hands folded in front of him. He sighed and stirred as the Abbot left them.
‘He has told me to look after you until the arrival of Biscam,’ he explained in a resigned voice. ‘I had been hoping to use this fair weather to get back to the island.’
Fidelma could not resist a quick smile at his grumbling.
‘It seems that Abbot Maelcar is not the friendliest of people. There is something about his manner…’ She ended with a shrug.
‘He is convinced that the correct path to a communication with God is through vows of celibacy and in following the order of the Blessed Benedict. The rites and rituals of the churches of the Britons, and those in your own land, are anathema to him. You must make allowances.’
‘We are indebted to him, and to you, for all you have done for us, Brother Metellus,’ Eadulf said hurriedly, lest the man think they were ungrateful.
Brother Metellus did not reply except to indicate, with a movement of his head, the north of the quadrangle. ‘The village lies beyond these woodlands.’