‘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 bepaid 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 nothave 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, BrotherEolann 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 confessionwas of the part he had played in this conspiracy, because 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 checkinside. 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 …’
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘ Faro!’ Sister Gisa screamed the name. ‘It cannot be!’ Wulfoald seemed the only one who did not express astonishment. ‘Everyone knew he was in charge of the building of the tombs. Didn’t he complete Abbot Bobolen’s tomb just before you left for Genua to meet Magister Ado?’
‘I refuse to believe it. I will not believe it,’ sobbed the girl.
‘He told us that he had been a warrior during the war between Perctarit and Grimoald,’ Fidelma gently reminded her. ‘A little investigation might have shown that he had served in Perctarit’s army. He came to Bobium two years ago after Perctarit’s exile, about the same time as Brother Eolann came from Mailand. Not only was he supervisor of the building of the mausoleums, but Sister Gisa told me that he had suggested the design of Bobolen’s tomb and secured the workmen to raise it.’
‘A charitable work …’ Sister Gisa began.
‘Not so. His workmen were also Perctarit’s men, and it was there that the gold was brought under cover of the building work. It was stored to await the day when Perctarit was ready to make his move. Even worse, Faro is undoubtedly the man on the pale horse who pursued and slew Lady Gunora andwould have done the same to Prince Romuald. He was the same person who was seen, still in his religieux robes, stealing Wamba’s box from the cairn put up by Hawisa. He climbed down, but someone saw him and he dropped the box, which I later found. He had left his horse on the track below. It was the same breed and colour that I have seen Faro ride. The person who witnessed this event has not been seen recently. Let us hope there is not another death to be accounted to him.’
‘You claim that he also killed the old woman, Hawisa, and set fire to her cabin?’
‘I do.’
‘Are you saying that Faro killed the boy, Wamba, Brother Eolann and Abbot Servillius?’ asked Aistulf.
Fidelma shook her head. ‘He might have killed Wamba — I am sure he did. But I believe there was a third conspirator. Of his identity I have a good idea but cannot say for certain. I believe I can do so only when I return to the abbey. The immediate problem is to safeguard the abbey and the gold from Grasulf’s attack.’
Sister Gisa was still sobbing softly.
‘You must face the facts, daughter,’ Suidur said gently as he placed an arm around her shoulders.
‘I will not believe it until Faro tells me directly,’ cried the girl through her tears.
Fidelma regarded her sympathetically. ‘If it is any consolation, I think he does care for you. Last night he warned me to leave the valley and, if I saw you, to give you that warning as well. He said the storm was coming.’
‘That storm might come sooner than anyone thinks,’ Wulfoald observed dryly.
‘I agree,’ Fidelma said. ‘I believe Grasulf will attack either today or tomorrow.’
‘Then we must protect the abbey and retrieve the gold at once,’ Radoald declared, rising from his seat.
As the others followed his example, Fidelma added: ‘I am now certain that Grasulf will have been informed that the gold is at the abbey and he is on the way to seize it. We must ride back and warn the brethren.’
‘It will take me a while to gather sufficient warriors,’ Radoald said with a frown.
‘We have Grimoald’s two warriors and four of my men who are good bowmen. I could take them and accompany Fidelma,’ Wulfoald suggested. ‘The abbey can be defended. We might be able to hold off any attempt to take the gold until you gather the rest of the men.’
&n
bsp; ‘I’ll come with you,’ Aistulf announced with enthusiasm. ‘Fortes fortuna iuvat.’ Fortune helps the brave.
‘I thought you had renounced warfare?’ Radoald said to his father.
‘There comes a time when one cannot stand by with indifference. This is as much my valley and my people that Grasulf is attacking,’ replied Aistulf. ‘Have no fear, my son, you remain Lord of Trebbia. I am merely a hermit but I have a right to fight for the peace of this valley as much as anyone.’
Sister Gisa also insisted on accompanying them in spite of her distressed state. Wulfoald, with Grimoald’s two black-cloaked warriors, rode ahead with Fidelma and Sister Gisa followed, then four more warriors came behind them with Aistulf at their head. They rode purposefully, without talking. Fidelma was worried. Her mind was still running over all the evidence, since in spite of her assurance of Faro’s guilt and Brother Eolann’s complicity, there was a nagging in her mind about the identity of the third conspirator. She suspectedwho it was but could not be sure. There was something that she was missing.
It was late afternoon when they finally crossed the hump-back bridge. Another of Wulfoald’s warriors had appeared, riding towards them from the direction of Travo. He met them by the bridge. The exchange was rapid and brief.
‘Grasulf and his warriors have already crossed into the valley downstream and are heading in this direction,’ Wulfoald shouted to Fidelma. ‘We have little time to alert the abbey and township.’
The party did not delay but crossed the bridge and galloped up to the gates of the abbey. Brother Bladulf had apparently returned from Mount Pénas, for it was he who opened the gates. Venerable Ionas and Magister Ado were already in the courtyard and came hurrying across to greet them.
‘You are about to be attacked by Grasulf’s men in the name of Perctarit,’ shouted Wulfoald, as he swung down from his horse. ‘I would gather as many people into the abbey as you can for safety, then shut the gates and be ready to receive them.’
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