Divine Sacrifice, The by Anthony Hays Read Free Book Online Page B

his neck. His neck was broken. That was how old Elafius had died.
    “Who is this Rhiannon?” I asked, still staring at the pulp from Elafius’s stomach.
    “She is the new abbess. From Gaul,” Coroticus explained. “She has some uncommon views. Well”—he hesitated—“somewhat uncommon for our lands but common
enough in Gaul.”
    I grunted. “Rhiannon” meant “holy” in our ancient language, an appropriate name for a woman in the Christ’s service. “And they would be?”
    “Might we move outside?” Coroticus asked uneasily. His was not a path strewn with bodies. That much was obvious.
    Our little troop left the cell and poor Elafius behind. Once in the gray daylight, the abbot seemed to return to a proper mood. In the distance, I could see the
vallum,
the ditch and
fence that separated the abbey grounds from the surrounding lands.
Monachi,
brown-robed and ascetic, scurried about the grounds on some errand or other.
    “Rhiannon was used to the practice of women serving at the church services, giving the holy bread to those who would take communion. This is not something that we or the church in Rome
accept, only in Gaul. And, yes,” Coroticus admitted, “Elafius argued with her over it, many times since her arrival.”
    “They argued violently, most violently, but especially the very worst yesterday eve after the meal,” Gildas interrupted. I had seen such as this little scamp before. Secure in their
position by virtue of wealth or influence, they thought themselves above all. And their ambition knew no bounds.
    Arthur turned toward the young
monachus
. “The next time you speak without my bidding, young man, you will do so from a pit in the earth, filled with rats. Now, leave Master
Malgwyn to his work.”
    I suppressed a smile. Gildas had several brothers, all older than himself, one of whom Arthur had personally killed. The others all led factions that would not join the
consilium,
and
Arthur had no love for them. That Coroticus allowed Gildas into the abbey spoke more of his father’s purse than his politics.
    With some reluctance, I turned to Arthur and the abbot. “Elafius’s neck was broken. Of that, there is no doubt. How it came about, through design or by accident, I cannot
say.”
    “How do you accidentally break someone’s neck?”
    “By trying to force his mouth open and pour yew extract down. His neck must have been broken as they poured the yew, for some of it made it down to his stomach. Dead men cannot swallow.
The yew was meant to poison him. Yew will do that to horses and cattle. We know this well. Either those who held him were too rough or the old man’s neck was easily snapped.”
    “Are you certain of this?”
    I thought of the silver
denarius
. But I knew from experience that this was not the time to reveal it. “I am certain this is how he died. I know that more than one was involved.
Perhaps the woman recruited others to hold him while she poured the poison down his throat. Perhaps it was an attempt to make her seem guilty. Either way, the woman bears questioning if nothing
else.”
    “A-hem!” Coroticus cleared his throat. “She is the head of the women. She was sent here because of her great devotion to the Christ.”
    “She was sent here because of her family’s influence,” Arthur snapped. “When the troop arrives, send them to arrest her. Otherwise, not a word from any of you.
Especially”—and he glared most effectively at Gildas—“you.”
    Arthur turned to me. “You have seen all that you require?”he asked.
    I nodded. “I have seen enough.”
    “Then join us as we confer with Patrick at the abbot’s great hall.”
    “And what of Lauhiir?”
    “He can wait. It will do his ego good.”
    With that we trudged across the muddy ground to Coroticus’s great hall, almost as large as Arthur’s seat at Castellum Arturius. The timber hall stood on a line with the old church to
the east, beyond the cemetery and the cells of