Abbot Maelcar spread his hands in a helpless gesture.
‘I don’t understand. A messenger came to the abbey of Gildas and told me that the King demanded my presence at once at the fortress of the mac’htiern of Brilhag. I came right away with my scribe, Brother Ebolbain, who waits outside until he is needed.’
Riwanon regarded him in equal bewilderment.
‘Are you telling us that my husband is due here now? I can hardly believe he has interrupted his hunting to get here so quickly. When did this messenger arrive at your abbey?’
‘Early this morning, for my companion and I have walked across the peninsula to this place. I was informed that the King was already here with his entourage and needed to speak with me urgently,’ the abbot replied. He glared accusingly at Budic. ‘You did not send a message from your father?’
‘I am commander of my lady’s bodyguard. I am not a messenger,’ Budic answered him loftily.
‘Excuse me,’ Fidelma interrupted, not able to control her interest in this exchange, ‘but when and by whom were you told this, Abbot Maelcar?’
The elderly Abbot glanced at her with an expression of disdain, and even seemed as if he were going to ignore her, when Riwanon leaned forward and spoke in a soft but deliberate tone. ‘My sister from Hibernia asks a good question, Abbot. A reply is necessary from you.’
Abbot Maelcar flushed at the reproof.
‘As I said, early this morning,’ he replied with a surly tone and looking at the Queen instead of Fidelma, ‘a messenger, presenting himself as being sent from King Alain, came to the abbey and gave me the impression that the King needed my urgent attendance. I had some religious offices to perform,’ he half-shrugged, ‘but as soon as these were fulfilled, Brother Ebolbain and I set out for this place.’
‘And this messenger from the King, where is he?’ pressed Fidelma. ‘Did he accompany Ebolbain and yourself?’
Abbot Maelcar looked at Riwanon as if seeking her approval before he should answer. The glint in her eye told him that he should.
‘The messenger came on here before us. Should he not be sent for, to explain this matter instead of people demanding answers of me?’
Riwanon glanced at Fidelma. ‘Now here is a mystery, indeed, my sister,’ she said softly.
Abbot Maelcar moved restlessly, unable to understand their curious behaviour.
‘The messenger has not returned here because he was not sent from here,’ Riwanon said patiently. ‘The King, my husband, has not been here — nor do we expect him for several days.’
‘Then why…?’ began the abbot hopelessly.
Riwanon chuckled softly.
‘Was I not saying that I was bored? Now it seems that I have too much stimulation — not one, but several mysteries to set my wits racing. Fidelma, you say that it is your task in your own land of Hibernia to solve such conundrums? Then there are plenty here for you to take on.’
Fidelma’s mind was turning over this latest twist.
‘It may well be that this is part of the same mystery, Riwanon; the mystery that has led us along the path to this place,’ she said. ‘Who, if it were not your husband, would use his name to bring the Abbot here? And for what purpose? Is there some connection with the attack on the merchants?’
Riwanon glanced at Abbot Maelcar and extended her hand towards a chair.
‘In expectation of answers to be gained at some time, perhaps the good Abbot should sit with us and be comfortable for a while. It would be fruitless for you, Abbot Maelcar, to return to your abbey before those answers are presented. I presume that your scribe…Brother Ebolbain? Yes, Brother Ebolbain, can be given hospitality among the servants?’
Iuna, who had emerged from the kitchens at the arrival of the Abbot, had been waiting discreetly in attendance. She now stepped forward.
‘I will ensure that instructions are so given, lady, for the Brother to be fed and provided with a bed while awaiting the Abbot’s pleasure. A bedchamber will be prepared for the Abbot as well.’
Abbot Maelcar absently glanced up at the girl and then, for a moment, his body sensed to tense. It seemed that only Fidelma noticed a strange expression cross his features. He composed himself quickly, however, before she could identify it, and turned back to the Queen.
‘There is no need to go to such trouble, lady. If we leave now, we can still return to the abbey by nightfall.’
‘Nonsense!’ Riwanon replied. ‘This mystery is too fascinating to let you return without its resolution.’
‘But,’ the Abbot protested, ‘if the messenger was sent to bring me on a fool’s errand, perhaps it was done for a purpose? Perhaps someone plans some mischief at the abbey in my absence?’
‘That is a good point,’ conceded Brother Metellus, speaking for the first time since the arrival of the Abbot. The latter scowled at him; he had obviously not forgotten the manner of their parting.
‘There are several warriors here,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘Perhaps some of them could be sent to the abbey to warn the community and maintain a watch in case of anything untoward occurring?’
‘Excellent,’ approved Riwanon. ‘Then we shall relax and enjoy the fire and the food, which I am sure this generous fortress will provide, and Ceingar can indulge us by demonstrating her talents upon the harp. Let us relax and leave it to our good sister from Hibernia to fathom the mysteries of this day.’
She turned, waved Budic to come forward and proceeded to issue rapid instructions in her own language. After a few moments, the warrior hurried away. Riwanon looked round with satisfaction.
‘I have commanded two of my warriors to set out for the abbey in case of any problems. Budic will order the guards here to keep a careful watch on the roads in case my husband does decide to make a descent on this fortress — though, if I know him, he will be too intent on hunting his wild boar for a while yet.’
The Abbot sat down, but it was obvious that he was preoccupied. Riwanon had to repeat a question before he realised he was being addressed.
‘It is a few years since I visited the community of Gildas,’ she said. ‘My husband informs me that you have made some changes?’
The abbot looked at her blankly. ‘Changes?’
‘When I was there last, it was a conhospitae, in the old traditions of our people. Now I believe it is confined to males only and the Rule has been changed to that of the Roman religious Benedict. Is this so?’
The abbot frowned and his voice was defensive as he stated, ‘It is done with my authority, lady. In such matters I follow the Father of our Faith and his Curia.’
‘I would not question your authority, Maelcar. Once elected by your brethren, then you may run your community as you will — for as long as you have their support.’ Riwanon seemed to smile mischievously.
Abbot Maelcar flushed in annoyance. The old system, which was also part of the tradition of Fidelma’s land, was that abbots and bishops, like chieftains, were elected by their communities. They were constrained by an adherence to the laws to promote the welfare of their people. If they did not, they lost office. Obviously, Maelcar had been appointed Abbot by this method, but now it seemed he was imposing his own pro-Roman views on his community. Fidelma saw that Riwanon did not approve of it.
‘If only males are allowed at your community now,’ went on Riwanon, ‘I was wondering what had happened to those women and their children who were part of that community?’
‘They have gone safely to form their own communities,’ the Abbot replied stiffly.
‘I recall the kindness of Sister Aourken when I was small and was brought to the abbey by my father,’ Riwanon murmured, speaking almost to herself. ‘I wonder what became of her?’
‘Aourken?’ Fidelma repeated. ‘I can report that she is well. She gave us hospitality when we came to Gildas, for the abbey could not provide it.’