‘Most of the brethren were shocked. I had seen him before, you remember.’
‘Then one further question; given all these things, why are you so willing to go against Abbot Cild and help Sister Fidelma and myself?’
Brother Higbald looked a little surprised at the question and reflected on it for a moment.
‘Perhaps it is because I do not believe in spectres or witchcraft.In this matter, I believe that Abbot Cild acts unjustly. But I say that he acts from fear and not from any maliciousness.’
‘But what does he fear? If he acts in the certainty of right, what should he fear?’
‘If, my friend, you are able to find an answer to that, maybe you would find the key to unlocking all these mysteries.’ Brother Higbald smiled. ‘Now, what time shall you leave? Do you remember the way that I showed you?’
‘Two turns left, one right. I know. I have no idea when — it depends on Fidelma and how she feels.’
‘Let me know when you intend to leave and I will do my best to help you.’
‘Thank you, Brother Higbald. I am grateful for all that you have done.’
After Brother Higbald left, Eadulf sat himself down to consider matters again but he had scarcely begun when he realised that Fidelma’s adage that you cannot speculate without information applied to this case. He had no information at all to speculate with.
It was after midday when Fidelma emerged from her natural sleep.
‘Eadulf?’ She raised herself uncertainly and then fell back.
Eadulf went forward with a beaker of cold water and she sipped it gratefully.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.
‘Terrible. How ill was I?’
‘Ill enough.’ He placed a hand against her forehead. ‘At least the temperature has completely gone now.’
‘I have a terribly sore throat.’
‘You had a bad fever. However, you have pulled through it, Deo gratias.’
‘Are we at the abbey?’
Her eyes were bright and alert to her surroundings now.
‘We are.’
‘How long have I been out of the world?’
‘Do you remember coming out of the fever this morning and asking me the same question?’
Fidelma considered and then smiled.
‘I do. We have still been here only two days?’
‘It is just after midday on the day your fever broke. You must now rest, relax and get stronger.’
Fidelma nodded slowly. ‘And you have nursed me during this time?’
‘I did. I was helped by the abbey’s apothecary, Brother Higbald.’
Fidelma frowned thoughtfully.
‘I thought that I asked a question earlier … about something which was troubling me.’ She paused. ‘Ah, yes. I felt some antagonism while I lay ill. Of people …’
Eadulf interrupted. ‘Patience. If you feel up to it, I will run through the events since we arrived here. They are not pleasant.’
Fidelma regarded him with a faint smile.
‘I am well enough now,’ she replied quietly. ‘Tell me what is troubling you.’
Eadulf began, slowly at first and then having to fight hard to keep his voice from cracking with emotion as he recounted the narrow attitude of Abbot Cild.
Fidelma lay quietly, listening to the story. She did not interrupt for Eadulf was excellent when it came to recounting events without missing any detail.
Her face was grim as he ended his narrative.
‘So I am to be sacrificed to the fears of this strange abbot? Cild is his name?’
‘It won’t come to that. I have a plan to get you away from here as soon as you feel up to it.’
Fidelma grimaced with a cynical humour.
‘I think the idea of being ceremonially buried alive, face downward, has improved my health and motivation very rapidly.’
Eadulf looked sympathetic. ‘The drawback is that while the snow no longer falls, the skies are clear which means the temperature is freezing outside. It will be a long walk whichever direction we go.’
Fidelma’s mind was clearly elsewhere for she said: ‘You are absolutely certain that you saw this woman, the one identified as Gélgeis?’
‘Absolutely certain,’ Eadulf said. ‘She was as tangible and as real as you or me.’
‘Then the obvious must be true. There is a real woman in this abbey. Has any search been conducted?’
Eadulf smiled indulgently as he shook his head.
‘There is some hysteria here about ghosts. Only Brother Higbald, the apothecary, seems sane and treats the matter with any degree of rationality.’
‘There is no chance of doing some investigation into this matter?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘None at all. Abbot Cild is not the best person to deal with. His authority seems absolute. He has already made up his mind on the matter.’
‘I am not going to suffer for his fear and ignorance. But from what you say, there is a great mystery here, Eadulf. It is obvious that your friend Botulf had discovered some answer to the mystery, which was why he was killed.’
‘Before this matter of the haunting came up, I was going to seek out Garb at Tunstall, where I think he will be hiding. He, or his father, may be able to provide some answers.’
Fidelma nodded approval. ‘A good method of proceeding, Eadulf. I agree. I should soon be able to start to make inquiries myself.’
Eadulf looked embarrassed. He coughed nervously.
‘What is it, Eadulf? Do you have something else on your mind?’
‘I just want to say that you must remember that, apart from any other consideration, you are in the land of the Anglo-Saxons and, apart from the courtesy shown you at the Council of Whitby, the law does not recognise your authority.’
‘I understand that.’
‘I mean that women are not accorded the same place here as in your country, Fidelma. Be circumspect if you seek to question the people here. It is thought wrong for women to exert authority.’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘I cannot pretend to be what I am not.’
‘All I say is that you should be prudent.’
‘If I am not, then I am sure that you will caution me.’ She smiled brightly.
‘Well, wisdom dictates that our first priority is to remove ourselves from the reach of Abbot Cild.’
‘But you wish to resolve the mystery of the death of your friend?’
‘I do,’ asserted Eadulf with quiet vehemence.
‘Then we shall do so. Now, if you can mix me some of your noxious brews to cure a sore throat and a headache, perhaps I will soon feel well enough to join you in this trip to Tunstall.’
Chapter Ten
The day passed in an agony of slowness for Eadulf. Fidelma rested and slept through most of it. From time to time, Eadulf paced the room in an attempt to relieve the tension he felt. Only the fact that Brother Higbald had shown him an escape route kept his frustration from boiling into uncontrollable rage. Brother Higbald and Brother Redwald were their only visitors during the course of the day. On these occasions Fidelma was awake but decided to feign sleep when they entered the room in order that her improved condition would not be reported to Abbot Cild.
Brother Redwald, who brought their meals, stayed only long enough to leave the steaming bowls of broth and plates of cold meats, cheeses and bread or to pick up the empty trays. Brother Higbald on his visit was more relaxed and forthcoming about what was happening in the abbey. He informed Eadulf that Abbot Cild was making preparations for the tribunal at which the charge of conjuring spirits was to be made against Fidelma. The abbot was going to be both prosecutor and judge. He had informed Brother Willibrod that he would give Fidelma only one more day to recover from her illness. After that, whatever her condition, she would be brought before him and the charges made. Brother Higbald was emphatic in his advice that they should leave as soon as possible.
Eadulf listened attentively, nodding agreement without committing himself. Fidelma had advised Ead
ulf to keep his own counsel, trusting no one in the abbey, not even Brother Higbald. When Eadulf pointed out that he trusted Brother Higbald implicitly, Fidelma had reproved him.
‘In such circumstances, you should trust no one. How do you know that he has not been sent by the abbot to provoke us into action?’
Eadulf accepted her advice, and when the apothecary pressed them as to what time Eadulf thought that they would depart,Eadulf was vague and pointed out that it would depend on when Fidelma had recovered.
For Eadulf, the night passed uncomfortably. He decided to stay once more in Fidelma’s room, sleeping in the chair by the fire. He dozed in short restless periods but each time he awoke he saw that Fidelma was sleeping a comfortable sleep and her temperature was normal.
He finally awoke with a grey light seeping into the room. Dawn was late coming in winter and, by the sounds about him, the members of the abbey had already been at their devotions and work for some time. In fact, he heard the sounds of an unusual bustle and preparation. Then he realised what the day was. It was the Eve of Christ’s Mass, the eve of the birth of the Saviour. He felt a sudden guilt that he had not given the date any thought before.
He rose anxiously and, to his surprise, he found Fidelma already washed and dressed.
‘You must be careful,’ he said without preamble. ‘If Abbot Cild saw you now he would observe that you are fully recovered.’
‘Deo favente, I am well,’ smiled Fidelma. ‘Do not worry. I think I am well enough to travel and so it is now time to test your escape route.’
Eadulf was about to go to the tapestry to show her the route when there was a deferential tap on the door and a moment later Brother Redwald entered. As usual he came bearing a tray of food.
His eyes widened a little in surprise when he saw Fidelma standing up and dressed.
‘It is good to see you well, Sister,’ he muttered awkwardly as he put down the tray.
‘Brother Redwald, is it not?’ Fidelma smiled gently at the youth. ‘I am afraid that I have not been cognisant of things the last day or two but I remember your kindness when I arrived at this abbey.’
The boy coloured hotly.
‘Sister, I confess that I have done you a disservice.’
‘Brother Eadulf has told me that you merely reported what you saw in this room when you entered it the other day,’ replied Fidelma. ‘It is others who have misconstrued it, sothere is no blame to you. Can you describe what it was that you actually saw?’
The boy shifted his weight and glanced towards Brother Eadulf.
‘I told him-’
Fidelma interrupted with a slight gesture of her hand but she continued to smile.
‘It is not the same as telling me. Describe what it was that you saw.’
‘There is not much to add. I came into the room to see if there was anything I could bring you. You were lying asleep or in a fever. By the side of the bed, bending over you was a figure. It was that of a woman. As I entered, she straightened and turned towards me. She looked directly at me. I recognised her, for when I came to this abbey Abbot Cild’s wife was alive. It was she. The lady Gélgeis who they said perished in the mire not far from here.’
Fidelma regarded him thoughtfully.
‘How did she appear? I mean, was she as substantial as I am? You see, if she were truly a ghost, as everyone apparently believes, then surely she would have been a figure of ethereal quality. There would have to be something about her that was not of a temporal nature.’
The boy was quiet, reflecting.
‘She was substantial, truly. But she was a ghost. What else could she be when she was dead? Anyway, it was clear that she was a ghost in spite of the substantialness.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because her face was ghastly white. Even in the flickering candlelight, her face was pale, white … Truly, she was not of this world.’
Fidelma pressed her lips together in thought. She realised that Brother Redwald was trembling slightly and she felt that it would not be wise to press him for further information. She was about to dismiss him when the sounds of hurrying footsteps halted outside the door. Brother Higbald opened the door and entered without knocking. He looked agitated. His eyes fell first on Sister Fidelma. He smiled and was about to say something when he noticed Brother Redwald.
‘Go to your cell and I will meet you there in a moment. Hurry, do not delay.’ His tone was curt.
Eadulf and Fidelma exchanged a glance of surprise.
‘What is the matter?’ demanded Eadulf, as the young boy hurried obediently away.
Brother Higbald paused, glancing after Brother Redwald, as if to make sure that he was out of earshot. Then he spoke softly and urgently, speaking directly to Fidelma first and then to Eadulf.
‘Look to your safety, Sister Fidelma; look to your safety, Brother Eadulf.’ His voice was filled with foreboding. ‘Terrible news …’
‘News? What news?’ inquired Eadulf.
‘Warriors of the East Saxons have landed on the shore, not far away from here. Word has come that they are marching in this direction.’
Eadulf was dismissive. ‘It is probably the men I encountered from the longship two days ago. There were but a few men. They can surely do you no harm?’
Brother Higbald was still worried.
‘The news is that there are many longships and it may well be that they are Sigehere’s men come to destroy all the Christian houses that give succour to his Cousin Sebbi. The word is that they are marching this way. Take my advice and look to your own safety now! You know what to do, Brother. I must go to prepare our own defence.’
He gave them one last pleading glance before leaving hurriedly.
Eadulf turned back to Fidelma. His face was anxious.
‘This is bad news. But it might be to our advantage. I think we must do as he asks. Are you well enough to travel now?’
Fidelma hesitated and then nodded in silent agreement.
‘I suggest that we leave immediately, before Abbot Cild claims that you have conjured an army of the East Saxons to fall on his abbey,’ Eadulf said.
‘Perhaps you are right.’ Fidelma smiled softly. ‘This does seem an appropriate time to make our departure.’
Eadulf grabbed the bread and cold meats which Brother Redwald had just brought them and thrust them into his bag. He uttered a small prayer of thanks for his wisdom in transferringhis belongings to Fidelma’s room while he was nursing her. He helped her put on her cloak and slung his own around his shoulders.
Her steps were unsteady in her weakness but Eadulf held out a hand to balance her. She steadied herself and looked questioningly at him.
‘Now, where is this escape route? We would be spotted trying to leave the abbey any other way now that there is such an alarm.’
Eadulf went directly to the wall behind her bed and drew aside the tapestry.
Fidelma’s eyes widened a little at the door which Eadulf pushed. It swung inwards.
‘A secret tunnel?’ she asked.
‘It is supposed to lead to the outside.’
‘And if our ghost is tangible, this is doubtless the way she came into this chamber and departed without being seen by anyone other than young Redwald.’
Eadulf had not given the matter a thought but realised that it was a logical deduction. But now they had no time for such contemplation.
They entered the tunnel. Just inside was a wooden shelf on which there was a tallow candle. Eadulf returned to the room to secure a light from the glowing embers of the fire and then rejoined her, drawing the tapestry down behind him and swinging the door shut. The dark stone tunnel was damp and musty and, as they moved cautiously along it, they heard the alarmed squeaking as mice scampered before them.
Eadulf realised that the tunnel was not a single one but part of a network which must cover the entire abbey. He was trying to concentrate on remembering the directions that Brother Higbald had given him. Had it been two turns to the right and one to
the left or the reverse? He uttered a silent curse as he realised that he had forgotten. The only thing to do now was trust in luck. He dared not tell Fidelma that he had forgotten such simple instructions.
They came to an intersection, one way going right and one going left. Eadulf hesitated for a moment and turned right. The tunnel narrowed slightly. There was another intersection and he turned right again. It was damp now, the walls fairly drippingwith moisture. Behind him he heard Fidelma coughing. This atmosphere was not going to be good for her after her bout of illness. He moved on as rapidly as he could.
‘There’s some light ahead,’ came Fidelma’s whisper from behind him. Eadulf had already seen a flickering glow. It was obviously torchlight which seemed to emanate from a side chamber. He turned quickly.
‘We should proceed quietly,’ he whispered. It was an unnecessary instruction.
They moved silently towards the chamber from which the light was coming and Eadulf halted before the open entrance. Stealthily he peered round. A torch lit a chamber beyond the archway. Thankfully, it was empty — empty of people, that is. There were benches and wooden pegs along one side of the wall from which hung an amazing array of shields, swords and lances. Eadulf took a step forward and regarded the warriors’ accoutrements with bewilderment. They were all brightly polished and well kept.
‘Curious,’ he whispered.
Fidelma peered over his shoulder.
‘Didn’t someone say that this had been an old fortress before it became an abbey?’ She spoke irritably, distracted by another bout of coughing.
‘Torches do not burn for a hundred years, nor do weapons and shields keep their sheen,’ Eadulf said reprovingly.
Fidelma was too concerned to get out of the damp atmosphere to be inclined to linger.
‘Well, you told me that Abbot Cild was once a warrior. Perhaps he finds the habit hard to break. Let’s move on. I am cold.’
‘But the shields bear Iclingas images, and-’ Eadulf’s jaw clenched shut and he moved forwards into the chamber. He had caught sight of an object on the floor beneath a row of shields. It was a small dark leather purse of rectangular shape with a pattern branded on it which struck a distant chord in his memory. He reached forward and picked it up, noting that it had obviously been wrenched off someone’s belt with a degree of violence for the leather thongs were stretched and torn.
The Haunted Abbot sf-12 Page 15