Free The Dove of Death by Peter Tremayne Page A

arrange your beds and also meals. You have the freedom of all places except the abbey buildings themselves.’ He paused and shrugged. ‘The reasons for that are obvious. The harmony and peace of our community cannot be disturbed. While Brother…er, Eadulf,’ he struggled with the unfamiliar name, ‘can join us if he wishes, either at meals or services, we cannot extend such hospitality to you, Sister. Our rules are strict.’
    ‘I will not bother you, Abbot,’ Eadulf intervened quickly, before Fidelma had a chance to respond. There was irritation on her face and he knew her response would be critical. ‘We will be content with whatever arrangements you suggest, and thank you for your generosity. Are we not like that traveller from Jerusalem to Jericho who was set upon by robbers and left destitute and for dead? And have you not come as the Samaritan did to take pity on us? For this much we applaud your beneficence, Father Abbot.’
    Fidelma was puzzled for a moment because the speech was so unlike Eadulf. Then she realised that he was using gentle irony to deflect the Abbot’s thoughts. Abbot Maelcar apparently did not hear any mockery in what was said but merely nodded seriously.
    ‘Although I do not approve of the path you have taken, Brother Eadulf,’ he glanced from Eadulf to Fidelma, ‘we are Christians together and must fulfil the tenets of our Faith that are compassion and charity. It is God’s will that soon all the churches of these western lands will come into accord with Rome and every abbey and monastery will adopt the Rule of the Blessed Benedict. Only a few days ago, I received news of the ordinances of the Council at Autun, which has ordained that this Rule of Benedict be adopted by every religious community. Any other course leads to profligacy and depravity. Unlessour churches here abandon those ways, there is no reward in heaven.’
    Fidelma swallowed hard but Eadulf nodded quickly.
    ‘Each sheep comes to the shepherd in his own way,’ he smiled easily. ‘It may interest you to know that we were among the delegates to the Council of Autun.’ He ignored Fidelma’s frown of warning.
    ‘Delegates?’ The Abbot’s eyes shot up on his forehead in surprise. ‘It was a Council of bishops and abbots. Why would you be among the delegates?’
    ‘Sister Fidelma was asked to act as legal adviser to the Abbot of Imleach, the premier bishop of her brother’s kingdom,’ Eadulf said.
    For the first time during this conversation, Brother Metellus cleared his throat and bent in deferential manner towards the Abbot.
    ‘Sister Fidelma is a legal advocate in her own land,’ he began to explain.
    ‘When is this merchant, Biscam, due to arrive here?’ asked Fidelma, cutting in sharply, and determined to draw the conversation back to the immediate problem.
    ‘Biscam? He should be here within the next day or two. He and his brothers have been trading with us for many years.’
    ‘Then we shall trouble you no further, Abbot Maelcar.’ Fidelma glanced about the abbey grounds as if noticing them for the first time and commented: ‘You have a beautiful place here.’
    The Abbot’s eyes widened at the change of subject. ‘It was a spot chosen by the Blessed Gildas,’ he replied.
    ‘Your herb garden is especially fragrant and well kept.’
    ‘God blesses the hands of our brethren in their tending of the plants.’
    ‘I saw that the abbey has a cat and I presume that you keep it to fend off the pests that sometimes dominate in a garden.’
    This time Abbot Maelcar looked puzzled. ‘The abbey does not have a cat,’ he replied.
    ‘No?’ Fidelma feigned surprise. ‘The abbey does not have a large black cat?’
    ‘We have no cat at all.’
    ‘But I saw it wandering through the gardens.’
    ‘Then it must be one from the village. And now…’ The Abbot left the sentence unfinished as a token of dismissal.
    ‘Of course. Forgive me. We have kept you for too long from your duties.’
    ‘We will