Master of Souls (2005)
Master of Souls makes a good story. Set in January 668, it starts with wreckers luring a merchant ship onto the rocks, then Fidelma and Eadulf are sent to investigate the murder of an old scholar at the Abbey of Ard Fhearta. As always, the story is full of dramatic action and real surprises, as when it seems that the dreaded Uaman the Leper (last seen by Eadulf being swallowed up by quicksands) has returned to terrorise the neighbourhood.

It is a murderous tale that grips the interest throughout. Fidelma is still very much the leading partner, although "for nearly a year now Fidelma and Eadulf had been joined as ban charrthach and fer comtha, partners for a year and a day, a legal marriage under the law but a temporary one. After a year and a day, if incompatible, they could go their separate ways without blame and without payment of compensation to one another". Poor Eadulf complains that, instead of settling down together, "We seem to be constantly drifting from one drama to another", and very much misses their baby son Alchu, whom they have had to leave in safe keeping. All this background material is really fascinating, especially as the abbey is "a conhospitae, a mixed house in which male and female live together working for the glory of God and where their children are raised to that ideal".

But, in practice, children "are frowned on" and there are those who believe it should become an all-male stronghold. An old monk insists that "a person cannot be married and be perfect. Was it not the Holy Father Gregory the Great who pronounced that all sexual desire is sinful in itself? Fidelma snorted in disgust. 'You mean that such a natural desire is therefore evil? Is it then suggested that the God we worship created such an evil?'
'We of the religious should live in celibacy,' replied the old man stubbornly. 'I adhere to the Council of Laodicea that women should not be ordained and that women presiding at the Eucharistic meals is something that should not be tolerated.' " It all sounds very contemporary.

The 7th century provides a particularly interesting setting because of the mixture of old Celtic Christian and incoming Roman Catholic ideas, mixing with pagan beliefs. As Gaeth, a village blacksmith, says, "We are not Christians ... That is why we dwell apart in order that those would proselytise us do not bother us. Argument is a tedious thing. We each come to the Dagda, the Good God, along our own path." "It seems that you are well-named, Gaeth," Fidelma said, for the name meant clever and wise.

The Irish names aren't always easy to cope with: "There were still members of the Ui Fidgente who refused to accept the rule of Donennach of the Ui Chonaill Gabra. They wanted to see the return of the rule of the old dynasty of the Ui Choirpre Aedba. Yet both families traced their descent to Fiachu Fidgennid." A little of this goes a long way, and it is not really helped very much by the inclusion of several pages of Pronunciation Guide at the end of the book. But skip over the names, and just enjoy the fast-moving story and the convincing background, and look out for all the issues that are still relevant today. Recommended.

A Prayer for the Damned (2006)
A Prayer for the Damned is set in Cashel in AD 668. The capital is thronged with visitors who have come to celebrate the marriage of Fidelma of Cashel and Eadulf, her long-time Saxon friend. Their trial marriage had lasted for the appointed year and a day, during which little Alchu had been born, but now they had decided to confirm their marriage vows.

But on the eve of the ceremony, the unpopular but supposedly pious Abbot Ultan, who opposed the marriage on the grounds that the religious should not be allowed to get married, is found murdered in his bed chamber. But was he really the virtuous man he claimed to be? Fidelma, appointed to defend Muirchertach Nar, King of Connacht, who has been accused of the brutal murder, discovers that many of the guests have good reason to hate the Abbot. Then another death follows and the wedding has to be further postponed while Fidelma continues her investigations.

This makes a much less gripping story than its predecessors because almost all of it happens in one place, Cashel, and much of it is taken up with Fidelma asking questions about the past rather than having exciting adventures of her own. And the Irish names seem to grow more and more involved, with text like: "I was playing a game of brandubh with Dunchad Muirisci of the Ui Fiachracha Muaide until close to midnight."
"Dunchad Muirisci, the heir apparent to Muirchertach Nar?"
And so it goes on. The game of brandubh is not actually explained for another 24 pages.

The arguments about whether or not the religious should be able to marry are of some interest. Fidelma argues that, "Most priests and other religious throughout all the kingdoms of the world still marry. I have heard that this inclination towards celibacy seems to be part of a movement emanating from those who seek to denigrate the role of women in the world." But this is no substitute for exciting action.

Fidelma admits that "to enter a religious house in order to pursue a career in law was but a stepping stone for me. I cannot say that I was really an advocate of the Faith." But , even so, she won't be bullied into disclaiming her vow to serve the Faith, and is determined to sort out what has happened. "She felt that old sensation that there was something not quite right." The one person she never seems to spend much time with is her own son Alchu, but then he has a full-time nurse. She is getting rather arrogant too: She compares her pursuit of the murderer to a game of brandubh: "The brandubh board will now become the great hall where all the players and pieces will be gathered. Before the Chief Brehon Barran, I shall commence my attack. eliminating each suspect before cornering the murderer." And so she does. But it is not one of the more exciting books.

Dancing with Demons (2007)
Dancing with Demons includes characters with names such as Mer the Demented, Erc the Speckled and the Lady Gormflaith, so this gets it off to good start! Set in the early winter of AD 669, it is, as the author explains "not so much a whodunnit as a whydunnit - or is it?"

Sechnussach, High King of Ireland, is found dead in his bedchamber with his throat cut, and Dubh Duin, the chieftain of the clan Cinél Cairpre, the assassin who is caught in the act, stabs himself to death. The Chief Bredon of Ireland asks Sister Fidelma to find out what possible motives could have driven Dubh Duib to murder the High King.

Fidelma, accompanied by her partner (and now husband) Brother Eadulf and two Cashel warriors, sets off for the High King's palace at Tara. This leads on to a series of violent and exciting adventures in which both Fidelma and Eadulf are taken prisoner at the same time, although in different places and by different captors. And, in each case, they are just about to be killed, when their attackers both "fell to the ground", mortally wounded. What a happy coincidence! Usually the author is much more convincing.

Tremayne is usually a good story-teller and he brings his characters to life (he is quite capable of killing them off too, so you can never be sure what is going to happen. But you get involved and this keeps you reading).The Irish background is handled with the author's usual skill, although sometimes he still goes over the top with the Irish names, as when he explains: "Dubh Dahn traced his descent back from Niall's son Cairpre while Sechnussach traced his back to Niall's son Conall and the line of Sil nÁedo Sláine."

The conflict with remaining adherents of the Old (pagan) Faith is well described. But, as Fidelma tells Eadulf, "Part of me is worried that we are creating a deep abyss between our new world and those of our ancestors in the old world. Once that chasm has been made, we will never be able to re-cross it and know their thoughts, their fears and their hopes." Yet this is exactly what this author manages to do.

Fidelma herself is far from a saintly figure. For one thing "she did not believe in miracles of any sort". Years ago, she had been "ill-suited to life as a religieuse at the abbey of Cill Dara" and had soon left it. She is much happier acting as a dálaigh ("qualified to the role of anruth," as she keeps telling people), who happens also to be sister to a king, and is very conscious of her superior position, so Eadulf usually just does as he's told. When she and Eadulf set off for Tara she says that "it grieves me to desert my son after returning here a short time". Then, when she has solved the mystery, she announces, " 'It is time we returned to the peace of Cahil and to our little Alchu. At this rate, our poor child will not know us. We barely spend any time at all with him.' Eadulf grimaced but wisely said nothing." She is hardly the world's most devoted mother.

Ironically, one thing she detested, according to Eadulf, was "arrogance in others", so, imperfect though she may be, she comes across as a real human being. Yet she can be tolerant too: "We do not have a monopoly on all that is good .... The New Faith binds us to have charity towards all and not to fear those who follow different paths."

She makes a shrewd questioner and is at her best when she holds the floor at the Great Assembly, when she produces a whole series of surprises, but all of them credible. Although the pace slackens here and there, her presence holds the interest throughout.

The Council of the Cursed (2008)
The Council of the Cursed is set in AD 670. Bishop Leodegar of Autun in France has called the church leaders from Western Europe together to deal a final crippling blow to the Celtic Church. But a fierce row soon breaks out and the meeting is brought to an abrupt close. Later that evening the body of one of the delegates is discovered, his skull brutally smashed. The council is under threat - but from whom? Fortunately Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf have been called to Autun to act as advisers to the Irish delegation and they soon find themselves involved in a terrifying murder investigation, having to confront not only the autocratic bishop Leodegar but the malignant abbess, Mother Autofleda. Fidelma discovers that women and children seem to have been disappearing without trace. Could the Abbess have some involvement with the slave trade?

The story gets off to a slow start with all the bickering beween delegates, and it is only when Fidelma starts on a dangerous exploration of the Domus Femini (women's quarters), that excitement really builds up. Fidelma herself gets bitten by an adder, almost squashed by a falling statue, and eventually gets knocked out, so, once she is hot on the trail, there is no lack of incident.

As always, the background details are full of interest, as when Fidelma is horrified to discover that "the farm work (at the abbey) is done by the slaves and supervised by the brethren". Slavery is an idea that she finds repugnant. Since Bishop Leodegar had taken over a year before, the abbey was no longer a mixed house. As a monk told her, "Many here still have wives and even children in the adjoining Domus Femini - wives we had to put from us if we wished to continue as religious here."
Fidelma raised an eyebrow. "Put from you?" she queried.
"Declare before God and the bishop that we no longer recognized our marriage vows because God had the greater calling on us," confirmed Brother Chilperic.
"And what would have happened had you not done so?"
"We would have had to leave and seek another place."

Usually the most boring parts of detective stories are the pages and pages of detailed explanations that bring them to an end, but here all is explained by Fidelma in front of the whole abbey and it makes an exciting conclusion, even if, ultimately few of the characters are to meet a very happy ending.

The Dove of Death (2009)
The Dove of Death is set in the summer of AIsD 670. An Irish merchant ship is attacked by a pirate vessel off the coast of one of the Southern kingdoms on the Breton peninsular. Murchad, the captain, and Bressal, one of his passengers, are killed in cold blood after they have surrendered. Amongst the passengers who manage to escape the slaughter are Sister Fidelma and Eadulf. Safely ashore, a grim task confronts Fidelma. Bressal had been her cousin and Murchad a friend of long standing. Fidelma is determined to bring the killers to justice, spurred on not only by the fact that the killing demands family retribution, but also by her training as an advocate of the law system of her own land. Fidelma's task is not an easy one as her only clue was that the attacking vessel was carrying on its sails the symbol of a dove - the insignia of her Breton host.

There are some really exciting moments as when Fidelma's ship comes under attack, led by a captain who "appeared to be a young man, but he was shrouded from head to foot in white so that his face was not seen." He had a peculiarly shrill voice too, and we are given occasional clues as to who this might be, but it needs Fidelma's particular skills (including her ability to recognise the ship's cat, and to identify arrows) to sort this all out.

The author is, of course, a historian and this sometimes leads him into telling us more than we really want to know, as when he explains, "After Canao died, his one surviving brother, Macliau, became King - and when he died, his son, another Canao, became King. Then he died and Judicael of Domnonia claimed the kingdom. In fact, Judicael claimed kingship of all the Bretons and also descent from Waroch. So he named the kingdom as Bro-Waroch, the country of Waroch."

On the other hand, other historical details are fascinating, as when Fidelma is questioned by her rescuer, Brother Metullus, about the way that "even a woman could succeed to be head of the family in your land".
"It is so."
"It would not be allowed in Rome."
"So I learned," agreed Fidelma. "In your republic, a man had complete control over his wife and family, like property .... "
"And your ways are better?" challenged the Brother.
"Our ways are different," conceded Fidelma, "but, on balance, I would argue that life for our people is, in many ways, better. But each society has to develop according to their beliefs and conscience. My argument with Rome is that what is good for Rome is not good for the rest of the world, whether imposed by the military legions that dominate the world or by the Church in Rome that tries to tell people how to behave even in lands far distant, with different customs and ways of looking at the world."
This leads to an interesting discussion about Rome's claims for supremacy, which Fidelma, of course is not prepared to accept. She has no objection to services being held in Latin but explains that, "We prefer to conduct our services in the language of the sacred texts - which is Greek." Another revealing detail - nothing to do with the plot, but intriguing nevertheless.

The highly dramatic use of a secret weapon (liquid fire) eventually determines the outcome of an exciting sea battle, and in a dramatic finale Fidelma exposes the identity of the mysterious and murderous person in white. This final denoument comes as a surprise to everyone, and once again (unlike so many long explanatory endings) holds the interest throughout.

Fidelma's long-suffering husband, Brother Eadulf, manages to get himself almost drowned on two separate occasions, but otherwise just meekly obeys Fidelma's numerous instructions, reminding her on occasions that it was a long time since they had seen their young son back at home. There's no doubt about who wears the trousers in this family!

The story offers the usual combination of gripping action (including murderous attacks, rape and stabbings) and difficult names, leading to sentences like, "I am told that his Cousin Finsnechta Fledach, the son of Dúnchad, who was brother to Cenn Fáeled's father, has raised objections." Unfortunately, though, the Breton setting proves less interesting than previous ones, and you cannot help but feel that the author may be running out of new ideas.

The book ends with Fidelma wondering "whether she should give up the symbols of religious life. That would not be difficult for her, as she had never really been committed to them .... She was no religious at heart. She knew it. She even challenged some of the basic dogmas of the Faith where she felt they needed it." So her final thought is "about leaving the religious altogether and taking her place in the role that she had, unofficially, long since filled. That was the role as a legal adviser to her brother, Colgú, King of Cashel." Perhaps that would also give the author some new grounds to explore.

Sister Fidelma has her own The International Sister Fidelma Society website too where you can read much more background information and discover when her next book is due. She is also about to have her own television series.

The Sister Fidelma books are readily available in paperback (the newest ones appear first in hardback).

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