A Prayer for the Damned by Peter Tremayne Read Free Book Online Page B

Certainly, I did not know what it meant.’
    Brother Conchobhar inclined his head with a sad smile. ‘Yet you must have learnt something from your trial marriage.’
    ‘I suppose I did.’
    ‘Have you lost the feelings that you had for the lady Fidelma?’
    ‘Of course not!’
    ‘Have you lost the feelings that you had for Alchú, you son?’
    Again, Eadulf’s reply was emphatic.
    ‘Then,’ smiled Brother Conchobhar, ‘your malady seems a simple one. You are simply fearful of the responsibility that you will take on.’
    Eadulf raised his chin pugnaciously. ‘Fearful?’
    ‘Exactly so. Perhaps you are not ready to be the husband of an Eóghanacht?’
    Eadulf snorted indignantly. ‘I have been so this last year.’
    Brother Conchobhar pulled a wry face. ‘Then what else can it be?’ he mused. ‘Unless …’
    Eadulf’s brows came together. ‘Unless?’ he demanded irritably.
    ‘Unless … it is merely the pomp and circumstance that you are fearful of? The gathering crowd and the nobles and officials who are assembling to see the sister of Colgú wed? Do not forget that her father was the great Fáilbe Flann mac Aedo, one of the greatest kings of Muman. Fáilbe was a man respected among all the kingdoms of this island. And you are fearful of the honour that the people do to the lady Fidelma?’
    Eadulf flushed.
    ‘That is not the way of it,’ he snapped. ‘I am just a plain man and no noble.’
    Brother Conchobhar grinned crookedly. ‘You are no common man.’
    ‘I am but a simple magistrate who decided to choose the way of the religious …’
    ‘That is not what I meant. Whatever your birth, you are no common man. No common man would be the choice of the lady Fidelma. She has seen in you something uncommon, something complementary and necessary to her. So, my friend, is it not how she perceives you that is the most important thing? Not your fears of how others perceive you.’
    Eadulf was silent as he pondered the old man’s words.
    ‘Do I judge the basis of your fears correctly, my Saxon friend?’ Brother Conchobhar prompted.
    Eadulf stirred uncomfortably.
    ‘I think …’ he began, but he was silenced by the blast of a trumpet outside the chapel.
    ‘That sounds like another distinguished guest arriving,’ sighed Brother Conchobhar, ‘and an important one for a trumpet to be sounded. Let us go and see who it is.’
    Unprotesting, Eadulf followed the old man to the doors of the chapel and they halted on the steps overlooking the courtyard.
    Two riders followed by a wagon had entered through the gates. To both Brother Conchobhar and Eadulf’s surprise, the wagon contained two religieuse with luggage, while seated on the riding box were two armed men in menial dress, not of the religious. One of them had a small trumpet on his lap and had clearly sounded the announcing blast. However, the two riders caused the observers an even bigger surprise.
    The first rider was a tall, middle-aged man, fairly handsome in a dark and saturnine way, who carried himself with an arrogant manner. He was looking round with an expression of disdain. At his side, his companion was elderly and sharp-featured. What was astonishing was that they were clad in monastic robes. True, they were richly embellished, but nevertheless the men were clearly members of the religious.
    Brother Conchobhar snorted in disgust.
    ‘Since when have the religious given themselves airs and graces?’ he muttered to Eadulf. ‘I know not these strangers.’
    Caol, the commander of Colgú’s bodyguard, had come hurrying from the stables with Dego, one of his warriors, and halted before the newcomers. Eadulf noticed that Caol looked slightly bewildered and guessed that he had shared their expectation of the trumpet’s announcing the arrival of some noble or even a minor king. He was apparently nonplussed at being confronted by religious.
    ‘You are welcome to Cashel,’ he said warily. ‘Whom am I addressing?’
    It was the elderly,