Aistulf pulled a face. ‘Unfortunately, they were not the brightest of minds, as you have discovered. Having failed to take him prisoner, they took it on themselves that if they could not capture him, then the next best thing was to kill him.’
‘They wounded Brother Faro instead,’ repeated Sister Gisa.
‘So, after the failed assassination,’ Fidelma said thoughtfully, ‘these two warriors came here to this fortress to report. I saw you, Suidur, with Gisa rebuking them.’
‘How … ?’ began Radoald.
‘Courtyards are not the best place to discuss matters even in the dark of the night, especially when there is a moon.’
‘But you do not speak the language of the Longobards,’ Suidir pointed out. ‘How do you know what went on?’
‘Perhaps you will recall rebuking Sister Gisa for her lapse into Latin?’
There was a silence and Suidur finally said, ‘I did so. Grimoald’s men were told that no more attacks should be made on the person of Magister Ado. He should be allowed freedom to see if he could lead us to the gold,’ continued Aistulf. ‘Give him enough rope to hang himself, as the saying goes.’
‘And if he were not Perctarit’s agent?’ Fidelma sighed. ‘I am surprised, Suidur, that you have not taught your daughter the importance of evidence coram judice.’
Sister Gisa stared in astonishment but the physician actually smiled. ‘You do have a sharp mind, lady,’ he acknowledged.
‘I presumed that she is your daughter from the fact of her knowledge of the healing arts, that she was raised in this valley and it was said her father was a physician.’
‘Servillius himself said just before he left here that we should leave you alone and you would guide us to the conspirators, ’ Radoald commented dryly. ‘Wasn’t that what he said, Father?’
The erstwhile hermit chuckled. ‘Indeed. He said alis volat propris: she flies on her own wings.’ Fidelma knew the phrase well. It indicated that she was independent of spirit and had her own way of doing things.
Radoald leaned towards her. ‘Then let me tell you why we were concerned about Magister Ado. The man has a reputation as a good scholar at Bobium. He is known for his allegiance to the Nicene Creed …’
‘As is the allegiance of Bobium,’ pointed out Fidelma.
‘But Bobium is content under the kingship of Grimoald who, although a follower of Arius, pursues a liberal policy, allowing his people to choose which path to the Christ they want to tread.’
‘I know.’ Fidelma sighed irritably. ‘And Perctarit follows the Nicene Creed. I have heard all this.’
‘So when Magister Ado went on a journey to Tolosa, we suspected that he was Perctarit’s agent and had gone to raise the shipment of gold to pay Grasulf.’
‘Had you spoken with Magister Ado, you would have found that he went to Tolosa at the insistence of Brother Eolann, who was one of the real conspirators. Appealing to Magister Ado’s scholarship and his knowledge of Tolosa, they enticed him into going to the abbey there to bring back a book for the library. I suspect that Brother Eolann, or someone else, might have made a point of twisting the facts of this trip so that it seemed the magister had instigated it.’
Sister Gisa had paled and was holding a hand to her cheek.
‘Perhaps she was told that Perctarit was in Tolosa?’ went on Fidelma, ignoring her reaction for the moment. ‘It was another false trail to lead people away from the culprits. There were three conspirators at Bobium but Magister Ado was not one of them. While you were looking to Magister Ado at the seaport of Genua, the gold had already arrived in this valley. It was at the abbey before Brother Faro and Sister Gisa set out to meet Magister Ado on his return.’
‘But … how?’ demanded Radoald in astonishment.
‘Let me ask a question before I continue. Why is it important to thwart Grasulf, the Lord of Vars, from raising his warriors to take control of this valley? The gold is meant for him, and I have learned that he is of a mercenary nature and will not fight until he is paid. But why here? I think I know the answer but I ask you to confirm the matter for me.’
Radoald said, ‘The answer is simple. You will have heard already just how strategic are the roads that lead from Genua through these mountains. There is the old Salt Road from Genua to Ticinum Pavia, which passes through the Valley of the Tidone and is dominated by the Lord of Vars. Then there is the way through this valley leading to Placentia. This route is dominated by this very fortress.’
‘That I have already been told,’ Fidelma acknowledged.
‘Excellent. We shall proceed. These roads are vital for Perctarit, if he is to launch his main army from Mailand. Ticinum Pavia is a short march from Mailand and from Placentia. If he launches his army against Grimoald, then he not only has to seal this flank from attack but use the same passes to supply and reinforce his army through the port of Genua. It is through these same passes that the Romans marched their legions and reinforced their troops in ancient times when they brushed aside the Ligurians, defeated the Boii and headed across the great River Padus to destroy the Taurini, the Insubre and Cenomani. These lands they once called Cisalpine Gaul and they became part of Rome. Placentia itself was the first Roman colony in the area. Now just consider … what would happen if Perctarit won control of those passes?’
‘I would say that the outcome would be fairly obvious,’ admitted Fidelma.
It was Aistulf who posed the next unexpected question. ‘Did you know that this place was said to be where the Carthaginian Hannibal came with his elephants, and that he was supposed to quarter his men here while he climbed the mountain on the other side of the Trebbia to view the territory?’
‘I have heard of Hannibal,’ confirmed Fidelma, wondering at the abrupt change of subject.
‘Have you heard of the creature called an elephant?’
‘I have heard of this strange beast, for one of the Caesars brought them to Britain, which neighbours my own land, in order to awe and conquer the people there.’
‘Then let me tell you a story. As Hannibal was encamped here with his elephants on the eve of the Battle of Trebbia – his first victory over the Roman legions – it is said that three local men went to examine the beasts because they could not understand their neighbours’ descriptions of them. You see, these three men were blind. One went to feel one of the beasts around the leg. “The elephant is like a tree trunk,” he declared. Another felt the beast by the trunk and declared that an elephant was like a strange snake. The third managed to get hold of the ear of the beast and claimed the elephant was like a great winged creature.’
Fidelma waited in silence.
‘What do you learn from the story?’ invited Aistulf, still smiling.
‘That they were all wrong.’
‘Of course. And why?’
‘Because they could not see the whole creature.’
‘Exactly so,’ cried Radoald triumphantly.
‘You are going to tell me that we all have separate pieces of information and that if we put them together, we might see the whole. Very well. Let me sum matters up. The former King, Perctarit, is trying to overthrow your King, Grimoald. He has entered this country with an army supported by the Franks. To be able to face your King’s army he needs supplies and reinforcements. The easiest way that he can acquire them is through the port of Genua. From that seaport there are two valley routes that lead to his army. You guard one and Grasulf of Vars guards the other. Grasulf is a mercenary. All Perctarit has to do is pay him to raise his men and take over control of both valley roads.’
‘I would say that Perctarit did not trust Grasulf so he arranged for his agents to bring the gold to this valley to be paid only when Perctarit was ready to move his army and when he needed the supply lines to be opened.’
‘That is logical enough,’ agreed Radoald.
Fidelma smiled briefly. ‘Indeed, the gold that is meant to pay Grasulf is already at the abbey and has already caused several deaths.’
‘How do
you know the gold is here?’ demanded Radoald.
‘Because the Venerable Ionas and I have seen it this very morning, and that is why I came here. I believe the chief conspirator has already gone to inform Grasulf, the Lord of Vars, and that the abbey will be attacked any time now.’
‘And do you know who this chief conspirator is?’ demanded Aistulf.
‘I do.’
‘And you said that Brother Eolann was involved?’ Suidur asked.
‘I said that he was not the chief of them. There was a stronger force than him at the centre of this intrigue.’
The door suddenly swung open and Wulfoald entered. He encompassed everyone with a single glance and saluted Radoald. He clearly brought important news.
‘The Lord of Vars is on the move,’ he said. ‘We must prepare our men.’
‘How far off?’
‘He could reach us before the day is over.’
‘Then let us first hear what Sister Fidelma has to say. She was about to tell us who the conspirators are.’
‘This mystery has its origins in the story of the Aurum Tolosa,’ she began.
‘We have no time for myths!’ grumbled Radoald.
‘That’s a tale told by old men around the hearth at night,’ sneered Wulfoald.
‘Let us hear her out,’ rebuked Aistulf, with a frown at his son.
‘As you should know,’ Fidelma continued, ‘I came here to see my old master, Brother Ruadán, who I was told had been beaten by those opposed to his teaching; he lay dying. We don’t have to go into all that, which is entirely misleading. I believe that he was beaten and left for dead because he had discovered where the gold to pay Grasulf had been hidden. A wagon filled with gold. He did not know what it really was. From what he said on his deathbed, he believed he had found the gold of Tolosa according to the legend. “That which was taken from a watery grave must be returned to it.” I did not know what that meant until Venerable Ionas pointed out the connection. The Aurum Tolosa gold had been retrieved from a lake. Brother Ruadán took a few coins, I think to consult Venerable Ionas. On his way back to the abbey he encountered little Wamba, and in a moment of unwise generosity, I believe he gave the boy two of the coins.
‘Where things went wrong was when Wamba bought one of the coins to the abbey to use it to purchase things for his mother. The coin was recognised as being from the hoard and the next day someone from the abbey went in search of the boy. From Wamba that person found out who had given him the coins. Then he killed the boy, found Brother Ruadán and beat him to death, or so he thought. Brother Ruadán was strong and he reached the gates of the abbey and was taken in. When the killer heard he was still alive, he checked with Brother Hnikar. The apothecary felt he had not long to live and so the killer was not worried. The old man was raving, so he thought, and would be dead soon. So the killer thought there was no need to attract further attention to himself – until, that is, I came along.’
‘Then what?’ Radoald demanded. ‘What had you to do with it?’
‘Because of me, Brother Ruadán’s death had to be brought forward. He had to be killed before he could talk to me. He was smothered to prevent that. It was then I made my first mistake. Instead of keeping my own counsel, I thought I could trust the scriptor Brother Eolann because he was from my own kingdom and spoke my language. A silly, arrogant mistake. I mentioned to him that Brother Ruadán had spoken of coins. Brother Eolann was a clever person, and being part of this plot, he sought to distract me by preparing a false trail, providing me with false clues about the Aurum Tolosa – the gold of Servillius Caepio. He persuaded his fellow conspirators that he could keep me busy running after shadows until I eventually decided to leave. Maybe I do him an injustice. Perhaps he did it to prevent his partners from killing me also.’
‘But you did not leave,’ pointed out Radoald.
‘Worse. Still in my arrogance, I asked Brother Eolann to be my translator when I went to see Hawisa, the mother of Wamba. Brother Eolann was put in a difficult position. But the person controlling him suggested to Brother Eolann a cunning ruse. He told him to go with me and translate what Hawisa had to say in such a way that it increased my suspicions about Wulfoald and the abbot.’
‘But he knew he would eventually be found out, giving this false information,’ put in Aistulf.
‘Maybe he thought that the conspiracy would be over by the time it came out. Or maybe he was told to get rid of me on the mountain. On reflection, I suspect he might have attempted to kill me by leading me to a dangerous place where I could have fallen to my death. However, he did not have the heart to let this happen and saved me from falling. Perhaps Brother Eolann was not so evil, after all.’
‘But he had the heart to kill the small boy, Wamba, and old Brother Ruadán,’ objected Wulfoald.
‘I do not believe that was Brother Eolann. I think it was those with whom he was in the plot – his fellow conspirators. But he was possessed of a devious mind. Not killing me brought about another idea in his head: he knew we were going to spend the night in the sanctuary on Mount Pénas. I was surprised when Brother Eolann built a large fire. He made an excuse that it would be cold. It was not. But the fire attracted, as he had hoped, the warriors of the Lord of Vars. The next morning we were captured.
‘His plan was to leave me as a prisoner of Grasulf. However, Brother Eolann was unable to see Grasulf until he arrived back from a boar hunt the following morning. He doubtless told Grasulf what was going on. As prisoners, I noticed a slight change in his attitude. He had already lost interest in books through which he was trying to mislead me. I found a copy of the same book that he claimed pages had been cut from. At Vars the page was intact. I pointed this out but he was not particularly interested. That made me suspicious. What Brother Eolann had not counted on was that we would be rescued by Suidur.’
‘You say that Brother Eolann was just one of the conspirators – but why?’ Aistulf asked. ‘He was a stranger, an Hibernian like yourself.’
Fidelma suppressed a sigh. ‘That is why I had no suspicion. He told me he had come from my country to the Abbey of Gall and then from there he had spent two years or so in Mailand. It did not register with me that it was in that city that Perctarit ruled. When Perctarit was forced to flee, Brother Eolann came to Bobium with two other conspirators, determined to prepare the way for Perctarit’s return to his kingdom.’
‘But Brother Eolann’s motive?’
‘The same one you ascribed wrongly to Magister Ado. Eolann was a staunch defender of the Nicene Creed. So was Perctarit – and perhaps that was reason enough to cause Brother Eolann to support Perctarit against the Arian, Grimoald.’
‘So why was Brother Eolann killed, if he was one of these plotters?’ asked Suidur.
‘Because, having confronted Wulfoald, who I wrongly thought had been lying to me, I asked Brother Eolann to come and bear witness when I went with Wulfoald to see Hawisa. Brother Eolann told the other conspirators. He was advised to stage a fall so that he could not accompany us and be found to be a liar. At the same time, to ensure the truth did not come out, one of them went by night to Hawisa’s cabin. He killed the old woman, and set fire to the cabin.’
‘The rider on the pale horse?’ queried Wulfoald.
‘Indeed. A pale horse just like your horse. When Brother Eolann learned this, it was his turn to make a mistake. He was responsible for condemning Abbot Servillius.’
‘How?’ demanded Wulfoald. ‘True, the abbot was at Hawisa’s cabin that day to offer some compensation for the coin Wamba brought to the abbey, but the abbot would not know any more about the conspiracy when confronted by Brother Eolann’s mistranslation.’
‘When we were looking for Brother Eolann, Venerable Ionas said, “I have not seen him since he said he was going to the abbot to make confession”. Venerable Ionas, not knowing the circumstances, thought he meant the usual confession which is part of the custom here. But Brother Eolann’s confession was of the part he had played in this conspiracy, b
ecause that voice of conscience was hard to stifle in him even for his belief. Whether he told his fellow plotter or whether that person overheard the confession, both men were condemned to die.’
‘So Abbot Servillius and Brother Eolann were killed by the same person?’
‘That is my assessment,’ confirmed Fidelma. ‘Wulfoald has just informed us that there is now movement. I believe that the agents of Perctarit are about to hand over the gold to Grasulf and that he will soon make a descent on this valley with his men.’
‘My sentinels have already reported that Grasulf’s men have been arming and moving along the Staffel River,’ Wulfoald confirmed.
‘It means that Perctarit’s army is ready to move from Mailand to meet Grimoald.’ Aistulf’s expression was grim.
‘Importantly for us, it means Grasulf is heading into this valley,’ Wulfoald responded.
‘That is true.’ Fidelma gave a weary nod. ‘The gold is at the abbey where the agent of Perctarit hid it. Venerable Ionas and I saw it in its hiding place.’
‘In the abbey? Are you sure?’ Aistulf demanded.
‘It was hidden in the necropolis – in the new tomb being built for the Abbot Bobolen.’
Sister Gisa’s face had suddenly paled. She was staring at Fidelma with wide, bright eyes.
‘Poor Brother Ruadán tried to tell me where he had found the gold,’ went on Fidelma. ‘He mentioned about evil being disguised in a mausoleum. I thought he meant something about corpses. He meant that it was where he had found gold coins. Maybe they had been dropped outside when the wagon was being put into the tomb. Something made him check inside. The wagon had obviously been brought there during the building of the sepulchre, disguised as one of the wagons filled with marble.’
‘Did no one notice it being placed there?’ demanded Radoald. ‘What of the workmen?’
‘They were undoubtedly Perctarit’s men,’ Fidelma pointed out.
‘But a member of the abbey was in charge,’ Wulfoald observed quietly. ‘And it was not Brother Eolann.’
‘That person was Perctarit’s chief agent. The person overseeing the building of the mausoleum for the abbots was …’
Behold a Pale Horse Page 31