The Council of the Cursed by Peter Tremayne Read Free Book Online

superfluous. It is true, my friend, that the concept of one person being able to own another, as one would a piece of cloth or a sword, is beyond comprehension to the Hibernians.’
    Brother Budnouen pulled a face. ‘ De gustibus non est disputandum ,’ he shrugged, dismissing the argument. About tastes there is no disputing. ‘But the Faith accepts the institution of slavery. Slaves who flee from their masters are condemned and are refused Eucharistic communion. Scripture supports this. Does not Peter say, “Slaves, submit yourselves to your masters with all respect, not only to those who are good and considerate, but also to those who are harsh”. To claim it is wrong to have slaves is heresy.’
    Fidelma was angry. ‘Didn’t Paul of Tarsus tell the Corinthians: “If you can gain your freedom, do so…do not become slaves of human beings”.’
    Brother Budnouen was enjoying the exchange.
    ‘In the text from Titus, does not scripture instruct us, “Teach slaves to be subject to their masters in everything, to try to please them, not to talk back to them, and not to steal from them, but to show that they can be fully trusted so that in every way they will make the teaching about God our Saviour attractive”? You seem to be preaching rebellion, Sister. We are here to spread the Faith, not to preach the overthrow of the system and of kings and emperors.’
    ‘I am not here to conduct a moral argument,’ snapped Fidelma.
    ‘ Quando hic sum, non ieiuno Sabbato–quando Romae sum, ieiuno Sabbato ,’ Eadulf quoted, watching her expression.
    Fidelma pouted in annoyance. It was the thought of the Blessed Ambrose: when I am here, I do not fast on Saturday. When I am in Rome, I fast on Saturday. It was an admonition to obey local customs and not to try to impose your own.
    Nevertheless, the slave market and the sight of children being sold left a bad taste in her mouth. They passed through the square with Fidelma trying to avert her gaze from the forlorn-looking children waiting to be purchased. The sights and smells of the city, the noise that arose on all sides as their wagon trundled along the narrow streets, suddenly depressed her.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Brother Budnouen said, as if reading her thoughts. ‘Not all streets are like this. This is the main road of commerce. Once we leave this, there are quieter streets which lead up to the ecclesiastical quarters.’
    Again he was right.
    They turned out of the bedlam, still moving southward. Almost at once, even from the roadway, they could see the imposing structure of the abbey rising over the other buildings. Even the smells were less dominant here, for the houses appeared as more spacious villas, just as Fidelma remembered them in Rome. It was another world from the crowded hovels that were clustered around the gate by which they had entered.
    ‘Are all the entrances into the city as noisome?’ demanded Eadulf, apparently sharing the same idea.
    Brother Budnouen shrugged. ‘The city gate areas are where trade is carried out. Where trade is done you have the most noise and waste,’ he pointed out philosophically.
    They came into a large stone-flagged square, reasonably empty of people. On one side, the buildings of the abbey rose skywards. Close up they were ugly and forbidding, and Fidelma viewed them without enthusiasm. From afar they had looked impressive. Now the high walls seemed to intimidate the surrounding buildings, as well as the people passing under their shadows.
    ‘Well, this is the abbey of Autun and the end of our journey,’ the Gaul said, as he swung the wagon round towards a low gateway and halted the mule team before it. ‘That is where I deliver my goods. It is the entrance to the storehouses. But if you go across towards that building.’ he indicated with his hand, ‘you will find the office of the steward of the abbey. You may enquire there as to where you should go.’
    Eadulf was already climbing thankfully down, removing the bags,