‘I am Brother Willibrod. I am the dominus of the domus hospitale of this abbey.’ He paused and glanced at Fidelma. ‘That is, I am in charge of the guests’ quarters …’
‘Should you wish to speak Latin,’ Fidelma interrupted mischievously while speaking in that language, ‘I am competent enough in that tongue to follow you.’
The mouth of Brother Willibrod turned down in disapproval. He resorted to Saxon.
‘Sister, I have to tell you that this is not a conhospitae, a mixed house. We are all brothers of the faith here. There are no women, neither do we provide facilities for female guests.’
Eadulf was almost beyond irritation.
‘Are you refusing us hospitality?’ he demanded, a threatening tone in his voice.
‘Not you, Brother. It is just that we are a closed Order and women are not allowed in this abbey. It is our rule.’
‘Where is your duty of hospitality?’
‘The hospitality is not open to women,’ replied the dominus stubbornly again. ‘Since the great Council at Whitby, we no longer abide by the rules laid down by the missionaries of Eireann. I am told that Domnoc’s Wic is still a mixed house. That is twelve miles from here.’
Eadulf took an aggressive step towards Brother Willibrod. The dominus flinched but Eadulf made no further physical threat.
‘I presume that you are aware of the condition of the weather and that it is but a few hours to midnight?’ he asked coldly.
Brother Willibrod regarded him nervously.
‘I can only relay the rule of the abbey,’ he replied defensively.
‘Dominus, listen to me. I am Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, lately come from Canterbury, and-’
The dominus nodded rapidly. ‘You have said that you are the representative of Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury. That is the reason why I have admitted you. Have you been sent by our new archbishop? Is it true that he is a Greek from the very place where the saintly Paul of Tarsus was born?’
Eadulf’s mouth quirked a little in vexation but he thought the air of reverence with which the other spoke of Theodore might be useful.
‘I know Theodore well and act as his emissary,’ he replied calmly. ‘It was my fortune to instruct him in the ways of our country while we were in Rome. In his name, I demand that you-’
‘Then you were in Rome itself?’ Brother Willibrod’s voice was a whisper, filled almost with awe.
‘I was. But now, Brother, in Theodore’s name, I demand hospitality for myself and my wife!’
Brother Willibrod’s jaw dropped a little and he stared from Eadulf to Fidelma.
Fidelma could not restrain her glance of annoyance at her companion and she added pedantically: ‘I am only a ben charrthach.’
Brother Willibrod was unaware of the fine points of difference in Irish marriage laws and the status of wives. He shook his head sadly.
‘I will take your demand for hospitality to the abbot, as it is made in the name of the archbishop sent from Rome and, as you have pointed out, the weather is too inclement for the foreign woman to travel further. But I must give you a word of warning. Abbot Cild is of the party which believes in the celibacy of all the religious. Until the Council of Whitby, this was a mixed house. When the ruling at Whitby went against the Irish, most of the Irish abbots and religious — indeed, many of the Angles and Saxons who decided to continue their teachings — were ordered to quit these kingdoms.
‘Cild was appointed abbot here and eventually converted to the Rule of Rome, becoming an advocate for celibacy. The married religious were asked to leave. We became a closed community. It is against my instructions to let any women into these buildings. Only your authority as Archbishop Theodore’s representative forces me to present your case to Abbot Cild. He may well refuse you hospitality …’ he paused and looked uncomfortably at Fidelma, ‘especially if he learns that you are of the married religious.’
Fidelma smiled winningly at the dominus, deciding that diplomacy might achieve more than trying to exert authority.
‘We shall not make a point of stressing our relationship, Brother Willibrod,’ she said with a meaningful glance at Eadulf. ‘And perhaps you will respect our confidence, if it makes life easier for all concerned?’
The dominus hesitated for a moment and then shrugged.
‘I will not mention it, if you do not wish it.’
Eadulf was seething with anger, but he did his best to control himself.
‘Then instead of standing here in the chill of the evening air, perhaps you will show us to your guests’ accommodation so that we may wash and warm ourselves. For I tell you, whatever the views of your abbot, we do not intend to leave the shelter of this house tonight … not while this storm howls around our ears.’
Brother Willibrod inclined his head. He seemed to be having an inward tussle with himself. Finally, logic won out.
‘I will take you to the guests’ chambers across the quadrangle here. Refresh yourselves, by all means. Then I am sure that the abbot will want to see you, Brother Eadulf. He will want to know what messages you bring him from Canterbury.’
‘Messages?’ Eadulf frowned.
‘You are an emissary from Archbishop Theodore of Canterbury. Abbot Cild will want to know why Theodore has sent you here and will have many questions to ask you.’
Eadulf had used Theodore’s name merely to gain access to the abbey and now he realised that his bluff had been called.
‘Well, first …’ he began.
‘First, I will take you to the guests’ quarters,’ Brother Willibrod assured him quickly, turning and walking rapidly in the directionof the courtyard. They almost had to run to keep up with him. He moved with quick assurance for a person with one blind eye. Indeed, the pace was such that they did not have breath to spare to say anything further until the tall dominus halted outside a door and opened it for them.
‘Wait here!’ he instructed, and then he disappeared into the darkness of the interior. A few moments later he returned with a shielded candle. ‘I will light the way in.’
They were in a long, stone-flagged corridor. Brother Willibrod went to the first door.
‘You may wash and refresh yourself in this room, Sister. There is a fire already alight and water ready. We always keep one room in such a condition in case of wayfarers. Your room, Brother, is not yet ready. I will get one of our brethren to lay and light a fire for you, but-’
‘We can share this one,’ Eadulf said, indicating the warm room where Fidelma was now standing before the sparking logs of the fire.
Brother Willibrod looked shocked. ‘I have said that this is not a mixed house, nor are liaisons between religious-’
Fidelma turned and spoke quickly to Eadulf in the language of Éireann.
‘For the sake of simplicity, let us obey the rules of this place until it is time to leave.’
Eadulf was reluctant. He had to admit, however, that Fidelma was right. It seemed that they had enough problems without creating more.
‘While you refresh yourself from the journey, Fidelma, I will attend to the reason which brought us here.’ He turned back to Brother Willibrod and spoke in Saxon. ‘While I am waiting for my room to be prepared, I should like to see Brother Botulf.’
Brother Willibrod’s one restless eye widened a little. ‘Brother Botulf?’
‘He is the steward of this abbey, is he not?’
‘So you know already?’ Willibrod sounded surprised.