The Devil's Seal by Peter Tremayne Page A

Fidelma said, with an air of innocence. ‘It is surely tiring to do so when you could have ridden up?’
    ‘The horses were fatigued.’ There was a sudden edge to the abbess’ tone, which was unexpected. Seeing their expressions, she added less abruptly, ‘We thought to rest them and saw a youth by the track. We asked him to remain with our horses while we climbed up to the palace.’
    ‘Ah, so you saw the abbot?’ Eadulf asked.
    Abbess Líoch shook her head quickly. ‘He was nowhere to be found, and so we returned to get our mounts and look for somewhere to stay in the town.’
    ‘A wasted journey, then?’ commented Fidelma.
    ‘Just so,’ replied the abbess dryly.
    ‘Come,’ Fidelma said, turning her horse back towards the palace. ‘Let us get you settled at our guest quarters. At least we can offer you better food than you might otherwise find in the township.’
    After a moment or two, during which Eadulf wondered whether the abbess might refuse, she and her companion also turned their horses. Eadulf also wondered whether Fidelma was going to neglect the purpose of their seeking out of Abbess Líoch until later, but Fidelma suddenly said: ‘My brother and, indeed, Abbot Ségdae, are perplexed about this deputation. You said that the Saxon emissary, Brother Cerdic, came to your abbey and suggested you attend?’
    ‘I did,’ frowned the abbess.
    ‘We have no understanding of why this Bishop Arwald should be coming here. Did Brother Cerdic mention the reason for this visit?’
    ‘Only that they came with some ecclesiastical authority.’
    ‘Interesting that he stopped at your abbey before he journeyed on to Imleach to see Abbot Ségdae.’
    The abbess was keeping her gaze firmly on the track before her, as if concentrating on guiding her horse.
    ‘He came from Laighin, therefore Cill Náile lies on the road before Imleach,’ she pointed out. ‘It is natural he and Brother Rónán would pass it before they went on to Imleach.’
    ‘Of course,’ agreed Fidelma lightly. ‘However, why would he have come to you with this request? You gave me the impression earlier this morning that it was a specific request for you to attend.’
    Abbess Líoch tutted in annoyance and Fidelma gave her an apologetic smile. ‘You must forgive me, my friend,’ she said soothingly. ‘You know that I am a
dálaigh
, and isn’t it a lawyer’s manner to ask silly questions? Questions are now second nature to me but I have no wish to pry in matters that are not my affair.’
    ‘I have no wish to give the impression that I resent your questions,’ Abbess Líoch said.
    ‘So, apart from geography, why would Brother Cerdic call at Cill Náile and ask you specifically to attend this council?’
    Abbess Líoch thought for a moment. ‘I can only presume that he had heard that I had lived and worked in the Kingdom of Oswy of Northumbria. Perhaps he thought I could be useful, for I have some knowledge of the tongue of his people.’
    ‘Indeed. So you had not met Brother Cerdic during your time in Oswy’s Kingdom? I remember that you were in our party when we crossed to I-Shona and came with us on the journey to Streonshalh. As I recall, you did not accompany us to Hilda’s abbey and attend the council. Didn’t you decide to stay and work in a place . . .?’
    ‘Laestingau,’ supplied the abbess. Her voice was sharp. ‘The Abbey of Laestingau. In answer to your first query, no, I had not met Brother Cerdic before he arrived at Cill Náile. Why do you ask these questions, Fidelma?’
    Fidelma turned and looked at her. She said quietly: ‘I do not want to cause you alarm but I must tell you that Brother Cerdic has been found murdered.’
    Abbess Líoch pulled on her horse’s reins so roughly that the animal whinnied in protest and its forelegs kicked at the air in front of it before returning to a standstill. Her face was white, and she looked in the direction of Sister Dianaimh, who remained silent although it was clear