Behold a Pale Horse sf-22

by Peter Tremayne

  She was concentrating so hard that a sudden shout caused her to look up in dismay. Two warriors had emerged from the trees, long black cloaks streaming, but without weapons in their hands. They were upon her before she could react. One of them grabbed at her horse’s bridle and, withoutslowing, began to canter along the side of the river. The other rider followed behind.

  She could do nothing but feel anger with herself that she had been daydreaming, unaware of them lying in wait. The anger was enhanced by the fact that she now recognised the men. She did not need to examine the flaming sword and laurel wreath emblem on their jerkins nor look closely at the manner of their dress. They were the same men who had attacked Venerable Ado in Genua, the same men who, she believed, had shot an arrow at Magister Ado and hit Brother Faro by mistake when they had first arrived in the Valley of Trebbia.

  They said nothing to her. One was leaning slightly forward, still holding her horse’s reins so that she had no control over the animal; the other man rode behind. She had no choice but to hang on, for the momentum of the horses made it difficult to do anything else.

  She knew that they were heading upstream still, the Trebbia gushing along by the track, and she was not entirely surprised when they turned off and headed up the slope towards the fortress of Radoald, which had been her very destination.

  The gates of the fortress swung open and her escorts cantered into the courtyard. Her jaw tightened. Fidelma realised that there were still several questions to be answered, but she felt confident that she had the outline, if not the detail, of the mystery.

  No one said anything, no one made any move, as the dust settled around them. Then, from the main door to the great hall, a figure with white hair emerged — a tall, smiling figure. It was that of the physician, Suidur the Wise.

  ‘Well, Sister Fidelma — or should I call you Lady Fidelma? I am never quite sure of the correct usage for a princess whohas become a religieuse.’ He bowed with a touch of irony. ‘You are most welcome here. Get you down and come inside and take some refreshment. The dust of travel causes the throat to dry.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘ Welcome?’ parried Fidelma, sliding from her horse. ‘A strange welcome, to be sure.’

  ‘These are warriors from Grimoald,’ Suidur explained when he saw her glance towards her captors. ‘I am afraid they can become a little too enthusiastic, for which I apologise.’

  ‘I have observed their enthusiasm before; first in Genua and then again when I entered this valley,’ she responded.

  Suidur regarded her with a smile. He turned to the warriors and spoke rapidly in their own language. They saluted him and took the horses away. He gestured to her to follow him, saying, ‘I have always thought that you had a sharp eye, lady.’

  Inside the great hall, she found Lord Radoald in the company of an older man clad in rough homespun, with long grey hair and a bent figure. They both rose to their feet as Suidur led her in. As the elderly man rose, Fidelma’s quick eye saw that the stoop of his back had been feigned. She studied his features and a smile of satisfaction formed on her lips.

  ‘Well, Fidelma,’ greeted the young Lord of Trebbia. ‘We have been expecting you.’

  ‘Expecting me? Oh, I suppose your spies saw me leavingthe abbey and coming this way. Is that why the warriors ambushed me?’

  It was the man in rough homespun who replied. ‘We are engaged in a conflict of shadows, lady. We cannot afford to take chances.’

  Radoald turned to the man and said, ‘This is-’

  ‘Aistulf.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘There is no need for you to play the bent, elderly hermit before me. You are a strange hermit, Aistulf. A player of the pipes, but one who speaks Latin and commands warriors. Why is it that you hide in the mountains and let your son rule in your place as Lord of Trebbia?’

  It was Aistulf who finally broke the surprised silence that followed her question.

  ‘I think we have underestimated you, Fidelma of Hibernia,’ he said softly. ‘How did you know? You, a stranger? I have let no one, apart from Servillius and Gisa, see me close enough to identify me as the former Lord of Trebbia. My household has been sworn to secrecy. How have I been betrayed?’

  ‘You have not been betrayed, Lord Billo. At least, not so far as I am concerned,’ replied Fidelma. ‘It was a matter of logic, confirmed by the fact that I overheard you on the mountain when Suidur was bringing us back into the Trebbia Valley. You thought me asleep. When you said that you would speak to your son, it was obvious. It is known that Lord Billo and his son Radoald went to fight for Grimoald. Radoald came back from the wars and was proclaimed Lord of Trebbia. At the same time, a new person came to the valley, a recluse, Aistulf. It was easy to draw the conclusion.’

  ‘I came back after the wars against Perctarit seeking peace but knowing there were many things which might prevent it. I gave up my domain to my son, Radoald, changed my name and set out to live in the peace of this valley. I wanted toend my days without seeing another man, woman or child stained with blood, and hearing the cries of the wounded and dying. That is why I lived as I did. My son is now Lord of Trebbia. But unfortunately, death has followed me into this valley and now I must help to repel it. My son remains Lord of Trebbia, and if we bring this matter to a successful conclusion I will go back to being Aistulf the hermit, for that is all I want.’

  Radoald signalled a servant to come forward with a flagon and goblets. ‘Be seated and refresh yourself,’ he invited Fidelma.

  Fidelma had long practised the philosophy that when one was faced with no alternative it was better to appear to accept the inevitable. She sat down and accepted the goblet but asked for nothing more potent than the rich, cold water from a mountain spring.

  ‘So why were you expecting me?’ she asked, turning to Aistulf.

  ‘We were expecting you because my dear friend, Servillius, said he would send you here,’ Aistulf said. ‘Did he not explain that he thought you could be of service?’

  ‘Abbot Servillius was murdered last night,’ she announced flatly.

  The brief silence that followed her statement was ended by a sharp intake of breath. Standing at the doorway was Sister Gisa. Fidelma felt a momentary satisfaction. At least she had not been wrong in her suspicion that she would find the girl at Radoald’s fortress. Sister Gisa had run to Suidur, who was comforting her.

  ‘I also heard that you found Lady Gunora’s body,’ Aistulf said quietly. ‘I had not realised, when I played the lament, that it was also for my poor friend. I thought it was for Gunora.’

  ‘Brother Bladulf had not returned from the mountain with her body. You played the lament not only for Servillius but also for Hawisa and Brother Eolann.’

  Aistulf’s eyes widened in horror. ‘So many deaths?’

  ‘We heard of Hawisa’s death from Wulfoald, but-’ began Radoald.

  ‘You had better tell us how this came about, lady,’ intervened Aistulf.

  Fidelma told them what she knew.

  ‘Let me get this correct,’ Aistulf said at the end of her recital. ‘Wulfoald left you at the abbey, having learned that Servillius had arrived back but had retired with orders not to be disturbed. You say that Venerable Ionas and you went to see Servillius but found him dead?’

  ‘Essentially correct.’

  ‘So you never saw Servillius and he never explained why you should come here?’

  ‘What was he supposed to tell me?’ she countered.

  ‘Among other things, he was supposed to tell you that we were expecting you and Wulfoald to return here. Wulfoald told us that he had not seen Servillius and received no such message.’

  Fidelma compressed her lips. ‘He had no opportunity to see him. I was too concerned in following a wrong trail laid by Brother Eolann, and so when I went back to the abbey, I went to talk with Venerable Ionas and told him what I thought was happening. I was foolishly misled. When Venerable Ionas and I went to see the abbot, having wasted time, we found he had been killed almost as soon as
he returned to the abbey.’

  ‘So, if it was not the message we sent you with Servillius, what led you here this morning?’ Suidur asked sharply.

  Fidelma ignored the question. Instead she asked: ‘I presume that Prince Romuald is safe here?’

  Radoald leaned forward in surprise. ‘How could you possibly know that he is here?’

  ‘That’s simple. Abbot Servillius said that Lady Gunora and the prince left the abbey before first light to reach this fortress. I found Lady Gunora’s body, as you know. The boy was missing. However, Wulfoald, when I told him that Lady Gunora’s body had been found, was not concerned about the prince. He simply rebuked me for not informing him sooner.’

  ‘What did that tell you?’ Aistulf was interested.

  ‘That it was only Lady Gunora who had been missing. It meant Prince Romuald was safe here. That was confirmed by you, Aistulf.’

  ‘By me?’ he asked wonderingly.

  ‘When I overheard you on the mountain, saying, “If the boy is right, Lady Gunora must be dead.” So what did the boy tell you?’

  ‘What do you think happened?’ countered Radoald.

  ‘That Lady Gunora and the boy did not leave the abbey unobserved. I believe they were followed. They had one horse. Lady Gunora may have noticed and told the boy to dismount and hide while she tried to draw off the pursuit. She succeeded so far as the boy was concerned. But she was overtaken and slain.’

  A silence followed and then Aistulf nodded slowly. ‘You are right, lady, so far as the boy is concerned. Wulfoald found him wandering along the river early that morning. The prince told him that Lady Gunora had turned back towards the abbey, having instructed him to hide. She told him that, if she did not return, to go to the fortress of my son, Radoald, and on no account return to the abbey.’

  ‘So Lady Gunora tried to draw off the pursuers across Mount Pénas?’ mused Fidelma. ‘Poor lady. She sacrificed herself. But the boy is safe?’

  ‘Even as you said,’ agreed Suidur.

  ‘There is one thing that might interest you, lady,’ Aistulf added. ‘The prince, while hiding, caught sight of their pursuer. There was, in fact, only one. My son gave us the same description which Odo gave to Wulfoald and yourself. It was the same as that of the person seen leaving the vicinity of Hawisa’s cabin at the time of the fire.’

  ‘A man on a pale horse?’

  ‘And the prince also insists that the rider of the pale horse was a warrior.’

  Fidelma was quiet for a while. ‘Now tell me why you wanted me to be here?’

  Aistulf said, ‘My friend, Servillius, thought you could be trusted.’ Then he looked around at the others. ‘It will come as no surprise to you that we are supporters of King Grimoald.’ When Fidelma did not respond, he went on: ‘It would seem that you have little interest in the war that is erupting now. It is that war which is our concern — the attempt of Perctarit, with those who remain loyal to him and his Frankish allies, to return to the throne of the Longobards.’

  ‘As you say, the politics of the matter should be of little concern to me, for this is not my country,’ replied Fidelma.

  ‘True enough. That being so, why did you leap to defend Magister Ado in Genua when the warriors of King Grimoald tried to capture him?’ Aistulf observed.

  ‘Merely chance. I saw two men assaulting an elderly cleric in a back street. When we entered this valley, these same men tried to assassinate him from behind the shelter of trees and bushes.’

  ‘If it had not been for your shout of warning,’ intervened Sister Gisa resentfully, ‘they would not have missed their target and hit Brother Faro.’

  ‘It is one of the matters I need clarification on. The would-be assassins were dressed as your King’s men and therefore your allies. Can it be that you would applaud the assassination of an elderly cleric of such outstanding scholarship as Magister Ado — simply as part of your cause?’

  ‘He was considered an agent of Perctarit,’ Sister Gisa declared, thrusting her chin out aggressively. ‘An enemy to King Grimoald. You saved him from being captured by the two men that Grimoald sent to question him.’

  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 allowedfreedom 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, wesuspected 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 thereis 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?’