of the great works we hold and—’
‘But the works of the Venerable Cinaed themselves …’ Fidelma
interrupted, trying not to show her impatience. After all, librarians always tended to be boastful of the works they held in their libraries.
‘Of course,’ Brother Eolas replied, a little cestfallen. ‘Here they are.’ He indicated a shelf and picked up a writing tablet. ‘In fact, I have been making a catalogue of his works here.’
Eadulf glanced at the tablet. ‘It seems a rather long list.’
Brother Eolas smiled in satisfaction. ‘The Venerable Cinaed was one of our best scholars. He had many interests. I think that you would call him eclectic. He even wrote a discourse entitled De ars sordida gemmae , denouncing the local trade in precious stones, which he handed to Brother Faolchair to copy just a short time before his death. But his Disputatius Computus Cummianus is a classic and—’
‘And De Trinitate Interpretatio Perversa ?’ Eadulf asked.
The librarian looked a little shocked. ‘You have read that?’
‘I know people who have,’ admitted Eadulf truthfully, trying not to look at Fidelma.
‘It is not well liked in some quarters of this abbey,’ the librarian said shortly. ‘He wrote far better things. His poems in our native tongue, for example, and his setting down of some of our old tales and historic traditions are regarded as excellent and—’
‘What of his Scripta quae ad rempublicum geredam pertinent ?’ Fidelma asked sharply.
Brother Eolas gave a shake of his head.
‘You appear to be interested in his most controversial works. Ah well, we have them all here but, while the Venerable Cinaed had his followers, he also had his enemies as well.’
‘So we have now begun to learn,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Do you have any thoughts as to why he should have been murdered?’
The librarian looked shocked.
‘Are you implying that … that he was killed by someone who did not like what he wrote? That is ridiculous. In this land scholars are treated with respect even when they are in dispute with others. Each has the right to speak their mind freely, to write their thoughts and discuss ideas without rancour, as have others to disagree whether in private or in public. Learning is not a matter to kill over.’
‘There is nothing that instils deep rage so much as a scholar’s views,’ pointed out Fidelma. It was something her mentor, Brehon Morann, used to say.
‘I refuse to believe that,’ replied Brother Eolas.
‘Never mind. Let us get down to the task in hand. I would like to read this work on government by the Venerable Cinaed. Where is it?’
Brother Eolas consulted his wax tablet and turned to the shelf.
‘It should be along here …’
He paused and frowned. Then he checked again.
‘It seems to be missing. And another of his works is not here.’
‘Missing?’ Fidelma used the word so sharply that several of the scholars in the library looked up to see what was amiss.
Brother Eolas frowned in admonition at her and raised a finger to his lips. Then he turned and waved to a youth who was carrying a pile of vellum to a scribe on the far side of the library. He caught the boy’s attention. The boy deposited his burden with the scribe before turning to join them. He was young and eager, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old.
‘Brother Faolchair, two of our books are missing.’ He pointed to the spaces. ‘They should be on the shelf there but they are not. Who has taken them?’
The boy looked at the titles that his superior indicated.
‘The one on trading precious stones is the one I have for copying. The other has been taken from the library, Brother Eolas.’
The librarian’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Taken from …’ he began. ‘How can this be? Only the abbot and … Who has taken it?’
‘The Venerable Mac Faosma sent Brother Benen for it yesterday morning. He has the authority to do so, Brother Eolas.’
The librarian paused and then
‘But the works of the Venerable Cinaed themselves …’ Fidelma
interrupted, trying not to show her impatience. After all, librarians always tended to be boastful of the works they held in their libraries.
‘Of course,’ Brother Eolas replied, a little cestfallen. ‘Here they are.’ He indicated a shelf and picked up a writing tablet. ‘In fact, I have been making a catalogue of his works here.’
Eadulf glanced at the tablet. ‘It seems a rather long list.’
Brother Eolas smiled in satisfaction. ‘The Venerable Cinaed was one of our best scholars. He had many interests. I think that you would call him eclectic. He even wrote a discourse entitled De ars sordida gemmae , denouncing the local trade in precious stones, which he handed to Brother Faolchair to copy just a short time before his death. But his Disputatius Computus Cummianus is a classic and—’
‘And De Trinitate Interpretatio Perversa ?’ Eadulf asked.
The librarian looked a little shocked. ‘You have read that?’
‘I know people who have,’ admitted Eadulf truthfully, trying not to look at Fidelma.
‘It is not well liked in some quarters of this abbey,’ the librarian said shortly. ‘He wrote far better things. His poems in our native tongue, for example, and his setting down of some of our old tales and historic traditions are regarded as excellent and—’
‘What of his Scripta quae ad rempublicum geredam pertinent ?’ Fidelma asked sharply.
Brother Eolas gave a shake of his head.
‘You appear to be interested in his most controversial works. Ah well, we have them all here but, while the Venerable Cinaed had his followers, he also had his enemies as well.’
‘So we have now begun to learn,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘Do you have any thoughts as to why he should have been murdered?’
The librarian looked shocked.
‘Are you implying that … that he was killed by someone who did not like what he wrote? That is ridiculous. In this land scholars are treated with respect even when they are in dispute with others. Each has the right to speak their mind freely, to write their thoughts and discuss ideas without rancour, as have others to disagree whether in private or in public. Learning is not a matter to kill over.’
‘There is nothing that instils deep rage so much as a scholar’s views,’ pointed out Fidelma. It was something her mentor, Brehon Morann, used to say.
‘I refuse to believe that,’ replied Brother Eolas.
‘Never mind. Let us get down to the task in hand. I would like to read this work on government by the Venerable Cinaed. Where is it?’
Brother Eolas consulted his wax tablet and turned to the shelf.
‘It should be along here …’
He paused and frowned. Then he checked again.
‘It seems to be missing. And another of his works is not here.’
‘Missing?’ Fidelma used the word so sharply that several of the scholars in the library looked up to see what was amiss.
Brother Eolas frowned in admonition at her and raised a finger to his lips. Then he turned and waved to a youth who was carrying a pile of vellum to a scribe on the far side of the library. He caught the boy’s attention. The boy deposited his burden with the scribe before turning to join them. He was young and eager, no more than fifteen or sixteen years old.
‘Brother Faolchair, two of our books are missing.’ He pointed to the spaces. ‘They should be on the shelf there but they are not. Who has taken them?’
The boy looked at the titles that his superior indicated.
‘The one on trading precious stones is the one I have for copying. The other has been taken from the library, Brother Eolas.’
The librarian’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Taken from …’ he began. ‘How can this be? Only the abbot and … Who has taken it?’
‘The Venerable Mac Faosma sent Brother Benen for it yesterday morning. He has the authority to do so, Brother Eolas.’
The librarian paused and then
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