The Chalice of Blood: A Mystery of Ancient Ireland (Mysteries of Ancient Ireland)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"If there is anyone who has emerged from the crowded field of medieval mysteries to take the place of the late Ellis Peters, it is Peter Tremayne." --Denver Post on Master of Souls
Ireland AD 670: When an eminent scholar is found murdered in his cell in the Abbey of Lios Mor, fear spreads among his brethren. His door was secured from the inside, with no other means of exit. How did the murderer escape? And what was the content of the manuscripts apparently stolen from the scholar's room?
Abbot Iarnla insists on sending for Sister Fidelma and her companion Brother Eadulf to investigate the killing. But even before they reach the abbey walls, there is an attempt on their lives. As the mystery deepens, Fidelma and Eadulf must also wrestle with problems of their own, problems which threaten to separate them forever...
other customers, so he remained with them and talked about the possibilities of a good harvest, the fine summer and the number of newcomers who were building their homes around the abbey. Fidelma was clearly impatient to continue the journey. ‘Is the bridge safe to cross?’ Eadulf inquired of the innkeeper as he was finishing his drink. ‘The bridge safe to cross?’ The innkeeper was a burly man, with balding head and slightly protruding eyes, and his jowls shook with laughter. ‘Bless you,
‘Are you telling me that you are rejecting the Faith, Fidelma?’ Ségdae, Abbot of Imleach, demanded in a scandalised voice. Fidelma stood before the abbot in the private chamber that was always set aside for his visits to the palace of Cashel. By virtue of his ecclesiastical role as Chief Bishop of Muman, Ségdae was always treated with the greatest respect when he came to see his King. ‘I am not rejecting the Faith, only the life of a religieuse,’ Fidelma replied patiently. Abbot Ségdae
obvious. Mercenaries as well.’ Lady Eithne suddenly smiled and shrugged. ‘What is there to say? My son is murdered and we know not how or why. My other son has chosen to remain in some foreign land. I am but a poor widow. In the days of old Maolochtair of the Déisi, both my sons were threatened, as you know, and perhaps the spirit of that threat lives on among certain chiefs of our people. Old Maolochtair was my husband’s cousin and he thought my sons wanted to wrest the chieftainship from him.
river, was returning from Ard Mór and saw Muirgíos’s barge passing him on its way south. He was about to greet his comrade but found he did not recognise any of the crew. He felt it wise not to challenge them. Eolann is a clever man. He was in a small craft and so he backtracked along the river and saw the vessel turn west up the river Bríd that joins The Great River south of here.’ ‘I know it. It is the river which provides the boundary between your people and the Uí Liatháin,’ Fidelma said.
constrained by anyone. Once she makes up her mind as to the correctness of the course she undertakes, then there is little to be done.’ ‘Just so.’ ‘But what if she is choosing the wrong path?’ queried the abbot. ‘Do we not have a duty to dissuade her?’ ‘Better that she chooses it than she has a path chosen for her, which she then resents and comes to resent those who chose it. If it is the wrong path, she will find out soon enough and return. If it is the right path … well, why should we not