The Leper's Bell Read Free

of Alchú.
    ‘You say that Fidelma is now sleeping?’
    Brother Eadulf made an affirmative gesture. ‘With the help of a little sedative that I prepared - an infusion of heartsease, skullcap and lily-of-the-valley.’
    ‘I know nothing of such apothecary’s arts, Eadulf.’
    Eadulf grimaced. ‘What small healing art I have learnt is thanks to my study at Tuaim Drecain, in the kingdom of Breifne.’
    Colgú forced a sad smile. ‘Ah yes; I forget that you have spent time in our greatest medical school. So my sister sleeps? How is her state of mind?’
    ‘As to be expected, she is in great agitation and anguish. At first she couldn’t take in what had happened, but for the last two days she has been scouring the countryside questioning all in the vicinity of the place where Sárait was slain and the baby taken. Questioning but learning nothing. It is as if the earth has swallowed the child along with the person who committed this evil act.’
    ‘Evil, indeed,’ agreed Colgú in a soft voice.
    He stood up abruptly and returned to stand before the fire in the same pose he had been in when Brother Eadulf entered, back to the fire, feet apart, hands clasped behind him.
    ‘Eadulf,’ he said after a moment, as if he had been contemplating what he should say. ‘I have sent for you because I have summoned my inner council, my closest advisers, to discuss this matter. I have seized this opportune time because I felt it wise to discuss this matter without my sister’s presence.’ He hesitated. ‘My sister is too emotionally involved. During these last two days I have watched her wander in distraction, rushing hither and thither asking questions but not stopping to reflect on matters because her heart is in panic for her child.’
    Brother Eadulf felt a surge of guilt. For two days he had been trying to persuade Fidelma to pause and take stock. It was true, as Colgú said, that she was in a state of frenzy. However, he said defensively: ‘Fidelma is a trained and qualified dálaigh , Colgú. You know her reputation. If Fidelma cannot solve this conundrum, who can?’
    The king gestured with his hand, half in defence, half in acknowledgement of what Eadulf said.
    ‘My sister’s reputation has spread through the five kingdoms of Éireann for the mastery of her investigations into mysteries and puzzles that no other minds can solve. And your own name, Eadulf, is firmly associated with that reputation. But this is her child of whom we speak.’
    ‘And mine,’ put in Brother Eadulf with quiet emphasis.
    ‘Of course. But a mother - any mother - has emotions that sometimes prevent cold logic when it comes to a discussion of her baby. In sending men out to search, I had to rely on you to try to describe what baby clothes were missing, so that we might get an idea of what Sárait had dressed the child in before she took him out that night. Fidelma could not bring herself to examine his clothing to see what was missing.’
    Eadulf silently agreed that it was true. He had had to search through the little chest wherein they kept Alchú’s baby clothes, trying to remember what had been there in order to recall what he might have been dressed in. Fidelma was too upset to do so.
    ‘Well, Eadulf,’ Colgú continued, ‘you are the father of the child. That is true. But a man is more phlegmatic than a woman, and you especially, Eadulf, since I have known you, have been like a rock in a turbulent sea. Equable and self-controlled.’
    Brother Eadulf sighed deeply. He did not feel cool-headed and balanced but he was inclined to agree with the young king that these last two days Fidelma had let her anxieties overwhelm her training as a clinical investigator of mysteries. However, his own emotional attachment to Fidelma made him feel as if he were betraying her by agreeing with Colgú.
    ‘What are you proposing?’ he asked quietly.
    ‘That my council meet and we all - my advisers, you and I - sit down and discuss what we know of this