Our Lady of Darkness by Peter Tremayne Page A

indicated the irony in the abbess’s voice. ‘She is to be given all the assistance she needs in these next twenty-four hours. She is investigating the crimes of the Saxon to make sure that we have not transgressed any laws.’
    Sister Étromma glanced at Fidelma with wide-eyed surprise and then turned back to the abbess with a swift jerk of her head.
    ‘I shall see to it, Mother Abbess,’ she muttered. Then, after a moment’s pause, she added: ‘It is unusual, isn’t it? The Saxon has already been judged.’
    ‘You will see to it, Sister Étromma,’ snapped the abbess, ‘for she bears an authority from Fianamail which, it seems, we are obliged to obey.’
    The little stewardess lowered her head. ‘ Fiat voluntas tua, Mother Abbess.’

    ‘I will doubtless see you later, Sister Fidelma; perhaps in the chapel for devotions?’
    Fidelma inclined her head to the abbess but ignored the question.
    Sister Étromma hastened from the room before her. Outside the abbess’s chamber the stewardess seemed to relax visibly.
    ‘How may I serve you, Sister Fidelma?’ she asked in a less breathless voice than the one she used to address her superior.
    ‘I would like to see Brother Eadulf immediately.’
    Sister Étromma’s eyes widened. ‘The Saxon? You want to see him?’
    ‘Is there a problem? The abbess has said that I am to be given all assistance.’
    ‘Of course.’ Sister Étromma looked confused. ‘I was not thinking. Come, I will show you the way.’
    ‘Have you been stewardess here long?’ asked Fidelma as the religieuse began to lead her through the gloomy vaulted corridors of the abbey.
    ‘I have been rechtaire here for ten years. I came to this abbey when I was a child, along with my brother.’
    ‘Ten years as rechtaire, ’ Fidelma reflected. ‘That is a goodly time. Have you known Abbess Fainder long? I know she has but recently returned from Rome, but did you know her before she went there?’
    ‘When she came to the abbey three months ago,’ Sister Étromma said, ‘she was a stranger to most of us here. Noé was our abbot before her. We are a mixed house, you see. Like Kildare.’
    Fidelma smiled a brief acknowledgement.
    ‘I know. Why did Abbot Noé decide to resign as abbot here?’
    ‘It was the King himself who required Noé to be his spiritual adviser, or so we were told. He still has chambers in the abbey but stays mainly in the King’s palace. The running of the abbey has passed to Fainder who was then appointed as our abbess.’
    Did Fidelma detect a slight bitterness in her tone?
    ‘Why was Fainder appointed if she was not formerly of this community?’
    Sister Étromma did not reply.
    ‘As rechtaire at the abbey for ten years it might be considered that you had a better claim to the office?’ Fidelma pressed.
    ‘She was a protégée of Abbot Noé in Rome.’
    ‘I did not know that Noé had ever been a religious in Rome.’
    ‘He only went there on a pilgrimage and did not remain for any
length of time. He met the abbess there, I believe, and brought her back to be his successor. It was when he returned that he announced his retirement from the abbey.’
    ‘That is unusual,’ remarked Fidelma. Then she realised another possibility. ‘Is Fainder related to Noé, perhaps?’
    Nepotism was not unknown in the religious houses and often abbots and abbesses and even bishops took office following the same successional system as kings and their nobles. As well as being of blood descent they were elected by their derbhfine which usually comprised three generations of the family descending from a common great-grandfather. Often sons, grandsons, nephews and cousins, were appointed to be abbots in place of a previous abbot or abbess in much the same way as kings were appointed or other chiefly heads.
    When Étromma did not respond, Fidelma posed another question.
    ‘Are you happy with the way the abbess runs this community? I mean, are you happy with Fainder’s commitment to govern by