The Haunted Abbot sf-12

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘He had no prior knowledge of the task you wanted him to fulfil for you?’ asked Eadulf with interest, wondering why Higbald was following him from the abbey.

  ‘None. In fact, we argued for a little while as to whether he would do it. He finally agreed when he saw that it was better to have some information than no information at all.’

  ‘What was agreed?’

  ‘That in a hollow tree, in a certain spot by the abbey walls, a message would be left recording the day the troscud started and counting each day of the ritual until Cild came to arbitration or …’

  Garb shrugged and looked at his father under lowered brows.

  ‘Until I die!’ snapped the old chieftain angrily. ‘Do not be ashamed to say it.’

  ‘Does Cild know of the role that Higbald plays?’

  ‘Higbald only agreed to this provided Cild remained unaware of his contact with us. It was up to him to explain how he obtained the information.’

  ‘And what if Higbald betrays this hollow tree where the messages are left to Cild? What if Cild has armed followers waiting to catch the man who leaves the messages?’ demanded Eadulf.

  Garb grimaced wryly. ‘It is possible, I suppose. But again, such a course of action would bring shame on Cild and on Higbald. In our culture, it would be unheard of … however, my friend, we are not fools entirely.’

  Eadulf looked puzzled and Garb explained: ‘Our man will be watching the abbey carefully and ensure that he goes to the tree to leave his message when there is no threatening danger.’

  Fidelma was looking suddenly alert.

  ‘Tell me, is someone watching the abbey now?’

  Garb nodded. ‘We have had the abbey under surveillance since the pronouncement of the ritual.’

  ‘When does your man get replaced?’

  ‘They stay there from sunrise to sunset and then a second man stays from sunset to sunrise. It is quite simple.’

  ‘The person who has been watching the abbey all today, when does he come back to Tunstall?’

  Brother Laisre was bewildered at her eagerness.

  ‘He has been back half an hour. Why?’

  ‘And what has he to report?’ Fidelma was almost waspish with impatience.

  ‘Nothing. What should he report?’

  ‘Nothing?’ Fidelma was incredulous.

  Eadulf was nervous at her change of tone and could not understand what was irritating her.

  ‘Well,’ he offered in placation, ‘there would not be anything to report until the ritual started, would there?’

  He realised that Fidelma was looking pityingly at him. Everyone else was bewildered.

  ‘Think, Eadulf, think! What made us follow the escape route that Brother Higbald showed you and flee from the abbey this morning?’

  ‘To avoid Abbot Cild’s trumped-up trial of you for sorcery,’ began Eadulf.

  Fidelma’s impatience was undisguised.

  ‘No, the abbey was supposed to be in a panic. We were brought the news that a Saxon warband had landed on the coast not far away and were marching on the abbey. Now that would surely be something for your man to report, wouldn’t it, Brother Laisre?’

  Garb was at the door calling for someone by name. A tiredlooking brother entered and glanced round in bewilderment.

  ‘You were watching Aldred’s Abbey from sunrise today?’ demanded Garb.

  The man nodded. ‘Until I was relieved at sunset by Brother Tola. Then I returned-’

  ‘Did anything untoward happen today?’

  The religieux was bewildered.

  ‘Not a thing. Well, soon after dawn some brethren came out of the monastery and they seemed armed. They walked aroundthe walls to a point where they halted and took up positions as if waiting for something.’

  ‘Ah, were they watching the roads from the east?’ inquired Eadulf.

  The religieux shook his head.

  ‘They seemed more concerned about watching the abbey wall. I think they were covering some hole there. I am not sure. Then, after some time, someone called to them and they returned into the abbey. I did not think that was worth reporting,’ he added defensively.

  ‘You saw and heard nothing of any Saxon warband marching from the east?’

  The man looked startled. ‘A warband? There was no warband.’

  ‘No raiding party?’

  ‘Whoever told you such a thing had happened?’

  Garb glanced towards Fidelma who nodded and he dismissed the man.

  Eadulf was confused. ‘I do not understand this.’

  ‘There are two possibilities,’ Fidelma said, pursing her lips in thought. ‘One possibility is that it was a ruse to send us deliberately down the tunnels into the hands of the waiting armed brethren so that we might meet our end. I cannot understand why, seeing that Abbot Cild was determined to kill us anyway.’

  Eadulf gave a soundless whistle.

  ‘But we did not emerge from the tunnel at … oh!’

  He suddenly remembered that he had not been sure of the directions Higbald had given him. Perhaps some good fortune had caused him to take another route which had led them safely out of the abbey and away from the ambush.

  Gadra the old chieftain was still seated impassively.

  ‘You said that there was a second possibility, Fidelma of Cashel. What is that?’

  She glanced at him with a serious expression.

  ‘The second possibility is that it was still a ruse to send us deliberately down the tunnels but this time in the hope that we would do exactly what we have done; to come to find you and by so doing … lead Abbot Cild and his men here.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Fidelma’s fear of the second possibility proved without foundation for the night at Tunstall passed moderately peacefully. She had dozed until being roused for the midnight celebration to mark the birth of Christ. As was usual in the Church which followed the Rule of Colmcille, the service was in Greek as the tongue of the Gospels. Brother Laisre had conducted the Offering, as it was called, while the Roman clerics called it the Mass, from the missa or dismissal.

  Brother Laisre stood facing the altar, not behind it, while preparing the Eucharist, the bread and wine. Prayers were said and the community joined in the psalms and the hymns, making their responses with eagerness. The blessing was given before the communion with Brother Laisre holding up his first, third and fourth fingers to symbolise the Holy Trinity, unlike the Roman fashion in which the priest would hold up the thumb, first and second fingers.

  Eadulf thought it was significant that the main song of the service, chosen by Brother Laisre, was a traditional invocation for justice.

  I will wash my face

  In the nine rays of the sun

  Just as Mary washed the Holy Child

  in rich fermented milk.

  Love be in my countenance

  Benevolence in my mind

  Dew of honey on my tongue

  my breath as calming incense.

  Black may be yonder fortress

  Black may be those within

  Yet I am as a white swan

  raising myself above them.

  I will travel there in the name of God

  In the likeness of a deer, in the likeness of a horse

  In the likeness of the birds, with the bearing of a

  king

  Stronger shall I be than the evil I will encounter.

  At the end of the Offering, Fidelma returned directly to her bed. Eadulf was not long in retiring also for he, too, had not enjoyed one full night’s sleep in days. He had expected to pass another uneasy night but, so exhausted was he, it seemed as if as soon as he lay down he was being roused by the weak winter sun shining in on them. To his surprise he found that Fidelma was already up. She was outside with Brother Laisre.

  ‘The blessings of Christ Saviour be with you on this day’s joyous morning and every day hereafter, Brother Eadulf,’ the leader of the community greeted him.

  When Eadulf had responded, Brother
Laisre turned back to Fidelma. He had obviously been answering a question.

  ‘Indeed, Sister, we had lookouts posted throughout the night on all the approach roads. There was no sign of any movement at all. No one appears to have followed you to this place.’

  Fidelma seemed relieved. ‘So it seems that my second interpretation was incorrect. Did Brother Higbald use false news about the Saxon warband to force us to flee the abbey? Did he mean to drive us out into some ambush?’

  Eadulf shook his head. ‘I cannot see the purpose of that. Why go to those lengths simply to kill us? As you said, the abbot was hell bent on doing that anyway and sooner rather than later. Why would Higbald want to waste his energies when the job would have been done for him? Perhaps the simple answer is that Higbald was given false information knowing that he would pass it on to us.’

  Fidelma regarded him in surprise. ‘Sometimes one cannot see the wood for the trees. Well done, Eadulf. It is a possibility that escaped me.’ She turned back to Brother Laisre. ‘There is no further word about any warband marauding along the coast?’

  ‘None at all,’ confirmed the leader of the community. ‘Before sunrise, I sent one of my brethren to the nearest of the coastal villages to make inquiries. There have been no raids anywherealong the coast in the last forty-eight hours. And, if you would take some advice … forget this matter for the moment and let your day begin with breaking your fast. Solemn thoughts often make more sense on a nourished stomach than in the clawing pangs of hunger.’

  Fidelma smiled. ‘You are wise, Brother Laisre. It is advice that I will gladly accept. However, had you forgotten that this is the day of Aoine — the day the Saxons call Frig’s Day, which is meant as a day of fasting and abstinence before tomorrow’s Sabbath?’

  ‘Yet it is also Christ’s birthday and we are allowed to celebrate as well.’

  Brother Laisre led the way to the small refectory building.

  As they fell to eating, the leader of the Irish community of Tunstall asked: ‘What is your plan now that you have escaped from Aldred’s Abbey? Do you intend to travel back to Canterbury?’

  Fidelma shook her head quickly. ‘I should have made my intentions clearer last night. A dálaigh cannot walk away from a situation where a chieftain has embarked on the ritual of the troscud leaving no other legal witness present.’

  Eadulf noticed with relief and satisfaction that she now appeared to have recovered all her former strength and determination. She was her old assertive self.

  ‘Does that mean that you will stay here?’ asked Brother Laisre.

  ‘I have tried to dissuade Gadra of Maigh Eo from the course on which he has embarked. He is determined. So I must remain and see that the ritual is carried out in legal fashion. My honour as a dálaigh is at stake.’

  Eadulf regarded her in some surprise but it was Brother Laisre who articulated his thoughts.

  ‘But what of Cild? He will not be happy with you since you absconded from the abbey. He will be determined to destroy you.’

  Fidelma’s chin raised a fraction.

  ‘Better men and women than Cild have tried,’ she said almost under her breath. Then she spoke normally. ‘It is true that we must be careful of Cild. However, there is a mystery at that abbeywhich involves not only the fate of Gadra and this troscud but also the death of Eadulf’s friend, Botulf. We cannot walk away from it without attempting to bring the truth to light. So we must stay and attempt to find that truth.’

  Brother Lasire shook his head in bewilderment.

  ‘But the truth lies in the abbey. You cannot return to it in order to question those who might lead you to it. So how can you find what is the truth?’

  Fidelma smiled quickly. ‘You have an astute mind, Brother Laisre.’

  Brother Laisre waited for a moment and when she made no further comment he rose, frowning.

  ‘Well,’ he said irritably, ‘you do not have to tell me your plans.’

  Fidelma nodded as if in agreement. ‘The less people know of them, perhaps, the better.’

  Brother Laisre clearly felt that he should be included in her designs but now he left them showing his wounded pride.

  Eadulf grimaced at Fidelma. ‘He feels upset.’

  ‘But I am right. The less people know, the less they can tell.’

  ‘But you must have a plan. I know you.’

  Fidelma glanced at him. ‘Laisre was pointing to the obvious when he said that I could not go back to the abbey to find the truth which is buried there.’

  ‘That is basic logic,’ agreed Eadulf.

  ‘So basic that everyone would think it. That is why I am going back to the abbey. After all, we know a secret way inside through those curious tunnels.’

  Eadulf stared at her, horrified.

  ‘Go back into the abbey?’ he stuttered. ‘I don’t believe you can be serious.’

  ‘On the contrary, I am perfectly serious. I do not like having my life threatened and I do not like leaving behind unsolved crimes and mysteries. I am determined to resolve this.’

  ‘But how …?’ Eadulf raised his arms in an almost hopeless gesture.

  ‘If one woman can traverse the corridors and chambers of the abbey undetected then so can I.’

  ‘But …’ Eadulf began to protest.

  Fidelma looked at him with disdain. ‘Come now, Eadulf, you do not believe in apparitions and phantasms?’

  Eadulf flushed, for deep within him he had to admit that he did believe in such things.

  ‘I say that to return is to court an unnecessary danger,’ he said stubbornly.

  ‘Yet to do nothing is to let matters take an inevitable and tragic course. You do not have to come back with me,’ she added mischievously, knowing full well that her words would goad him.

  Eadulf rose to the bait.

  ‘If you go, of course I will come.’

  ‘Then it is decided,’ smiled Fidelma sweetly. ‘But first we have some other matters to deal with.’

  Eadulf looked nervous. ‘Other matters? What matters?’

  ‘Do you think that Brother Laisre and his community might provide us with horses?’

  Eadulf’s nervousness increased.

  ‘Why would we need horses?’ he ventured. ‘If you mean to return to the abbey, then it is best to come upon it on foot so that we are not observed.’

  ‘We have a journey or two to make before that event and it is best if we can do it with relative comfort and more quickly than merely walking in this inhospitable weather.’

  ‘Journeys to where?’

  ‘I want to meet Cild’s brother, Aldhere. You have given me an excellent report of matters, but I would like to make some personal assessment of him before I reach any conclusions.’

  Eadulf exhaled deeply in resignation.

  ‘That presupposes I can find my way back to his hideout and that he has not moved from it since.’

  ‘I am sure you can, Eadulf. You said that you knew the countryside here like the back of your hand.’

  Just then Garb entered and greeted them gruffly. He dropped to a bench and reached for the jug of mead that was still on the table, draining a beaker in one swift gulp.

  ‘Any news?’ asked Fidelma.

  ‘There is still no sign that anyone from the abbey followedyou, if that is what you mean,’ replied Garb ungraciously.

  ‘I was fairly certain that if we had been followed, we would have known about it before now,’ agreed Fidelma, keeping her tone pleasant. ‘What I was wondering about was whether you had heard any word of raids along the coast?’

  Garb shook his head. ‘The countryside is quiet enough. I think you may rest assured that the only dangers that threaten lurk within the walls of the abbey.’

  ‘You are doubtless correct,’ she replied. ‘Tell me, Garb, is it possible to obtain two horses here? Brother Eadulf and I need to make some short journeys which we can do better and more quickly on horseback than on foot.’

  Garb regarded her speculatively.

>   ‘If you can ride the tiny wild ponies that are bred in this country, then we have some to spare. We could not bring our own horses with us and so we purchased several of the native ponies, shortlegged and broad-chested and not high at all.’

  ‘If it resembles a horse, then I can ride it,’ Fidelma replied determinedly.

  Garb seemed amused. ‘These are not fast mounts but sturdy little animals just right for this weather, with a thick wiry coat that insulates them. I can certainly give you the loan of two of them.’

  ‘That is excellent.’ She hesitated and added, ‘How is your father today?’

  Garb regarded her for a moment with interrogation in his eyes.

  ‘If you mean, is he still determined to carry through the ritual, then — he is so determined.’

  Fidelma sighed softly. ‘I supposed that I had little doubt of it.’

  ‘A chieftain’s word is the binding of his honour. It is not made lightly. As his tánaiste, his heir-apparent, my sad duty is to ensure that he carries out his intention or be dishonoured in Maigh Eo and beyond.’

  Fidelma frowned abruptly. ‘I had forgotten that part of the ritual, that the heir-apparent needs to be present at a chieftain’s troscud. Tell me, who governs in Maigh Eo while you and your father are here?’

  ‘My younger brother.’

  ‘Do you have a large family?’

  ‘My father bore three sons and three daughters.’

  ‘And with the exception of Gélgeis, are all living?’

  Garb shook his head. ‘One son died in the war against the Uí Néill of the north and my sister Mella was taken in a Saxon slave raid.’

  Eadulf coughed, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Fidelma ignored him.

  ‘Mella?’ She was thoughtful. ‘Wasn’t she the sister who tried to persuade Gélgeis not to marry Cild?’