The Council of the Cursed Read Online Free PDF Page A

almost gone now,’ corrected Fidelma. ‘The Franks haveoverrun and settled this territory and call these lands the kingdoms of Austrasia and Neustria. Two brothers rule them, I am told.’
    ‘Wherever we are,’ Eadulf went on, ‘I still cannot see why some council of church leaders in this remote spot has any influence on the five kingdoms of Éireann, or even on the Britons or Saxon kingdoms.’
    ‘Perhaps not now but someday hence the influence of the decisions made here might be felt. That is why, when Vitalian, the Bishop of Rome, called representatives of the western churches to this place, Bishop Ségdae had to attend. You know that the practices we follow in Éireann are under threat from the new ideas springing up in Rome which are alien to our laws and to our way of life.’
    ‘But Autun is such a long way from Cashel!’
    ‘Thoughts and ideas travel faster than a man,’ replied Fidelma firmly.
    Eadulf sighed and shifted the weight of the bag that he carried on his shoulder. He cast an envious glance at Fidelma’s light linen robes and wished he had something more cooling than the brown woollen homespun he wore as a Brother of the Faith.
    But they were moving on easier ground now among the buildings, and the gates of the abbey were within easy access. There were plenty of people about but no one paid them much interest. It was clear that Nebirnum was a busy trading town filled with strangers, and many wagons loaded with goods were moving here and there.
    At the gates of the abbey they encountered a Brother who seemed more of a sentinel than a welcoming religieux.
    ‘ Pax tecum ,’ Fidelma greeted the dark, sun-tanned man.
    ‘ Pax vobiscum ,’ replied the man indifferently.
    ‘We have come from the distant land of Hibernia. We are on our way to the Council at Autun and were told that Bishop Arigius might facilitate our journey there.’
    The man pointed through the gates. ‘You may enquire for the bishop inside,’ he said carelessly, and turned to continue to gaze at the passers-by.
    ‘Not exactly an enthusiastic greeting for us peregrinatio pro Christo ,’ Eadulf muttered wryly.
    Fidelma did not reply. A youthful religieux was passing through the quadrangle in which they found themselves, and she hailed him.
    ‘Where can we find Bishop Arigius?’ she asked.
    The young man stopped and frowned. ‘I am his steward. You are strangers in this place.’ It was a statement rather than a question.
    ‘We are on our way to Autun to attend the council there. We are from the land of Hibernia.’
    The young man’s eyes seemed to widen slightly at the latter statement. Then he said: ‘Follow me.’
    He led them to a door in a corner of the quadrangle, which gave entrance into a square tower that seemed to be opposite to what was obviously a chapel. They followed him up the dark, oak stairs to a door of similar hue. Here the young steward turned to them and asked them to wait. He knocked upon the door and, without pausing for an answer, opened it and passed inside, closing it behind him. They could hear the mumble of voices and then the door re-opened and the young man beckoned them inside.
    Bishop Arigius was a tall thin man with sharp features, piercing dark eyes and thin red lips. His hair was sparse and silver grey. He had risen from a chair and crossed the room to greet them, a smile of welcome revealing yellowing teeth.
    ‘ Pax vobiscum .’ He intoned the greeting solemnly. ‘My steward tells me that you are bound for Autun, to the council, and that you come from the land of Hibernia?’
    ‘He tells you no lie,’ replied Eadulf, shifting the weight of his bag on his shoulder.
    The motion was not lost on the bishop.
    ‘Then come and be seated, put down your bags and join me in refreshment. A glass of white wine cooled in our cellars…?’ He nodded to the steward who hurried away to obtain the beverage.
    ‘I am Bishop Arigius, the second of that name to hold office here in this ancient