The Devil's Seal by Peter Tremayne

did you take that journey, and what made you halt before we reached the Abbey of Hilda?’
    ‘If you recall, I was travelling with a young scholar. He was . . . he was a good friend of mine.’
    ‘I remember. Olcán was his name. What happened?’
    ‘We left your group and made our way south-west to a place called Laestingau; it was a small abbey which one of the kings of the area had set up because he had chosen it as the place where he wanted to be buried. It was only a full day’s ride from Hilda’s Abbey and we had originally meant to rejoin you after a few days.’
    ‘But why did you go there?’
    ‘Cedd was the abbot at Laestingau at that time.’
    ‘Cedd was one of the main interpreters at the Great Council,’ Fidelma remarked, but could not see where her story was going.
    ‘Cedd was adept at several languages,’ the abbess continued. ‘He had asked Cumméne, the abbot of I-Shona, to send him a copy of the
Computus
of Mo Sinu maccu Min of Beannchoir as he wished to study it before the council began. Cumméne entrusted the manuscript to the care of Olcán and myself. We were told to take it directly to Cedd’s abbey at Laestingau. And that was the reason why we left you on your way to Streonshalh.’
    ‘But Cedd came to Streonshalh and took a lively part in the debate. Why didn’t you and Olcán join him?’
    ‘When we reached Laestingau, Cedd had already gone on to Streonshalh. We needed to rest so we stayed there that night. And that night . . .’ She paused and there was a curious expression on her face. ‘We were prevented from joining you.’
    Fidelma was frowning. ‘Prevented? How so?’
    ‘The abbey was only a small group of wooden buildings without any defensive walls. As we lay in bed, it was attacked. Olcán was killed. Others were killed as well, including some of the women.’
    ‘I didn’t know. I am sorry.’
    ‘As you say, it was years ago now.’
    ‘How did you escape?’
    Abbess Líoch made a sound that was closer to a moan than anything else.
    ‘Escape? I did not escape. I was used and left for dead. When Cedd returned after the council, he found the survivors huddling in the ruins. I was one of them. It took me several weeks to recover.’
    ‘Who were the perpetrators?’
    ‘Raiders from the neighbouring Kingdom of Mercia.’
    Fidelma breathed out softly. She was recalling how raids from Mercia had threatened the peace during the Council at Streonshalh.
    ‘Were the raiders ever caught and punished?’
    ‘All I knew was that it was not long after Cedd returned to his abbey that he sickened. It was the autumn of that year that he fell ill with the Yellow Plague and died. We buried him in the burned-out ruins of the abbey at Laestingau. I spent some time trying to repay those people for looking after me when I was beside myself with grief and shame. Without their support, I would surely have died. But after a while, I made my way back here to my own land, my own people, and buried myself in the work of my little abbey at Cill Náile. Within a short time I found myself risen to lead my small community and was appointed Abbess.’ Abbess Líoch sat back and smiled ruefully at Fidelma. ‘That is my sad story. Since my return, all has been well.’
    ‘Until now?’
    The abbess started and for a moment she stared at Fidelma before dropping her gaze.
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘Until the appearance of Brother Cerdic at your abbey. I find it curious that he calls on you and tells you that it is in your interest to attend at Cashel. He comes to you before he has even consulted Abbot Ségdae or my brother. I am told by Eadulf that the leader of the deputation coming here is led by a Bishop Arwald of Magonsaete and that is a sub-Kingdom of Mercia.’
    ‘My response to your question has not altered since yesterday,’ replied the abbess tightly.
    ‘You told me that you did not know Brother Cerdic.’
    ‘It is true. I never saw him before he came to Cill