The Devil's Seal Read Online Free PDF Page B

am completely in the dark as to the intention of this deputation, as there are more senior religious in the kingdom than Abbess Líoch who should attend any council.’
    ‘It could be that Brother Cerdic was asked to invite her because of her knowledge of your people – I mean, the Angles,’ Colgú suggested. ‘Some years ago, Abbess Líoch joined a party of missionaries to the Kingdom of Northumbria and spent time at an abbey called Laestingau. So she knows something of your people and their ways.’
    Abbot Ségdae nodded. ‘It would be good to have her expertise at this meeting as well as your own.’
    ‘I have no objection,’ Eadulf agreed, knowing full well that the abbot was not asking him if he objected or not. ‘I have not met the abbess before.’
    Cill Náile, he knew, was an easy ride east of Cashel, but he had never visited the small religious community there. Líoch, so Fidelma had told him, had been one of her companions when she set out to join the group of Irish delegates journeying to the Great Council of Streonshalh. As far as he recalled, Líoch had not attended the council. She remained at Laestingau, some days’ ride west of Streonshalh.
    ‘Where is Brother Cerdic now?’ he asked the abbot. ‘I understand that he came with you to Cashel.’
    Abbot Ségdae’s face became glum. ‘He did. He is here awaiting the arrival of the rest of his deputation.’
    ‘Then perhaps I should go and speak with him? I might be able to pick up some further information.’
    ‘I was hoping you would,’ Colgú said. ‘It is hard to get any understanding of what is going on. This whole matter makes me uneasy.’
    ‘You should find him in the chapel,’ offered the abbot. ‘He is someone who appears to prefer to keep himself to himself.’
    Eadulf was crossing the courtyard towards the chapel building when Fidelma came riding in through the main gates on her short-necked grey stallion, which she had called Aonbharr after the horse ridden by the old God of the Oceans, Mannanán Mac Lir. Alongside her, smiling broadly astride his piebald pony, was their four-year-old son, Alchú, with his mop of bright red hair. Behind, keeping careful watch, rode Aidan, one of the élite warriors of Cashel.
    Eadulf paused for a moment to admire his wife. After the years during which she had been Sister Fidelma, clad in the robes of a religieuse, he had not fully become used to seeing her as ‘Fidelma, Princess of the Eóghanacht’. Her red hair was plaited in three braids, held in place with silver circlets on her head. She wore a tunic that fitted tightly to the waist and then billowed over her upper legs, which were encased in tight-fitting
triubhas
, or trousers, that fitted into leather boots that came just above the ankles and were of a matching blue. From her shoulders hung a short cloak, with a beaver-skin collar, clasped together by a silver brooch. Each garment was patterned in designs picked out in gold and silver needlework.
    Although Fidelma had quit the religious, Eadulf had not and so still kept to his Roman tonsure and robes, though at times he felt a little drab standing at his wife’s side.
    He stirred himself and hurried forward to help his son from his horse, a fraction of a second before the
echaire
, who looked after the stables, had reached the group.
    ‘Hello, little hound,’ Eadulf greeted the child. ‘Have you had a good ride?’ He used the literal meaning of the boy’s name as a term of endearment.
    The boy fell into his arms with a laugh of greeting.
    ‘We had a wonderful time,
athair
,’ he replied. ‘We were riding through the forest and surprised some deer. They ran away from us. Then we were coming home and saw a lot of men putting up a new building.’
    ‘A new building?’ Eadulf frowned for a moment.
    ‘He means the repairs to the south-western wall,’ explained Fidelma. ‘They are putting up a temporary wooden framework to support the workmen and their materials while they repair