Our Lady of Darkness

by Peter Tremayne

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dego arrived back at the boat, in the company of Coba and several of his warriors, within minutes of the surprise emergence of Fial and her pursuers. Coba suggested that everyone should return to the comfort of his fortress at Cam Eolaing to discuss events. Fidelma had not been able to extract any sense from the still hysterical Fial nor from Bishop Forbassach and Mel, who suddenly seemed disinclined to explain themselves. The abbess had likewise grown quiet. Fidelma was undecided but Dego pointed out that the day was drawing on and it would soon be dark. The decision seemed to have been made for her.

  Among Coba’s men were warriors who knew the river well and they volunteered to bring Gabrán’s boat downstream to the jetty below the fortress of Cam Eolaing. Two of the chieftain’s men, together with Enda, took charge of the horses and rode back with them while Fidelma, with the others, took her place on the boat.

  ‘When we reach your fortress, Coba,’ Fidelma told the chieftain, ‘I will examine these people in an attempt to find out what has happened. As a magistrate of the country, I think it would be fitting that you sat with me as the local representative.’

  Bishop Forbassach, overhearing, immediately raised objections.

  ‘Coba is no longer qualified to sit as a magistrate,’ he complained tersely. ‘In helping your Saxon friend escape, he lost his authority. You were there at the inn when I told him so.’

  ‘Loss of rank must be pronounced and confirmed by the King,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘Has Fianamail formally stripped Coba of his rank as bó-aire?’

  Bishop Forbassach seemed irritated.

  ‘The King had gone hunting with Abbot Noé in the northern hills when I went to see him about the matter of Coba’s abuse of the law over the Saxon.’

  ‘So, at this time, until Fianamail returns from hunting, Coba remains the bó-aire of this district, is that correct?’

  Bishop Forbassach’s look was contemptuous.

  ‘Not in my eyes. I am Brehon of Laigin.’

  ‘In the eyes of the law, Coba is still magistrate while you are too closely involved in this matter, Forbassach. He will sit with me while I make my examination.’

  Coba’s glance at Forbassach and the abbess contained not a little triumph in it.

  ‘I shall do so willingly, Sister. There seems some collusion here.’

  ‘We will discuss it at Cam Eolaing,’ Fidelma assured him.

  It was growing dark when the boat nudged against the wooden jetty below the fortress of Cam Eolaing. Torches had to be lit to illuminate the way up the track from the river to the gates of Coba’s fortress. A small group of the chieftain’s retainers had gathered once they heard that he was returning and that a body was being carried among his party. They grouped anxiously around the gates, concerned that someone from Coba’s household had been killed.

  Coba, leading the party to the fortress, halted briefly to identify the dead man to them. There was a murmur of surprise when they learnt it was Gabrán.

  ‘Back to your duties now,’ called their chieftain. ‘Light the hall fires for my guests and prepare refreshments,’ he instructed the house steward. Then, to the stable lads: ‘Take the horses and see to their needs.’ To those carrying Gabrán’s body: ‘Put that in the chapel.’

  With half-a-dozen concise orders, Coba had organised an adequate reception for his guests, unwilling and willing. It was only after they had been washed, fed and rested, that they were called into the hall of Coba, where a fire blazed in the hearth and brand torches illuminated all the dark recesses.

  Coba took his chair of office while Fidelma was offered a chair at his side.

  She looked down at the expectant faces of Abbess Fainder, Mel, Enda and Dego, and the sullen, huddled figure of the girl named Fial. Then she frowned and glanced quickly round.

  ‘Bishop Forbassach? Where is he?’ She caught a gleam in Abbess Fainder’s eyes.

  Coba had turned to his chief warrior and the man hurriedly left the room.

  Fidelma fixed Abbess Fainder with a cold stare.

  ‘It would be easier for all of us if you told us where Forbassach has gone.’

  ‘You presume that I know?’ sneered the abbess.

  ‘I know that you do,’ replied Fidelma confidently.

  ‘I have done nothing wrong,’ replied Abbess Fainder, her jaw coming up aggressively. ‘I refuse to accept the lawfulness of being held here and being questioned by you or the bó-aire of Cam Eolaing. Coba has shown himself to be my enemy. I am held here against my will.’

  Fidelma saw from the set of her features that she was not going to get anywhere with the abbess.

  ‘My men will search the fortress, Sister,’ Coba assured her. ‘We will find him.’

  It was then that Coba’s chief warrior returned to the hall and came straight to Coba.

  ‘Bishop Forbassach has left the fortress!’

  Coba looked startled. ‘I posted a guard on the gate with strict instructions that no one was to leave unless I or Sister Fidelma said so. How can this be? Were my orders not obeyed?’

  The man grimaced awkwardly. ‘They were not, my chieftain. The gate stands open and Forbassach has taken a horse. Someone who saw him leave – they did not know that he had no permission to do so and so cannot be blamed – they saw him ride towards Fearna.’

  Coba swore violently.

  ‘Aequo animo,’ murmured Fidelma, reprovingly.

  ‘My mind is calm,’ snapped Coba. ‘Where is the guard who was at the gate? Where is he who let Bishop Forbassach through? Bring him to me!’

  ‘He is gone also,’ muttered the warrior.

  Coba was puzzled. ‘Gone? Who is this warrior who dares disobey me?’

  ‘The man is called Dau. He has a bandaged head.’

  Coba was suddenly thoughtful. ‘The same man who was knocked unconscious when the Saxon fled from here this morning?’

  ‘That is he.’

  ‘Is it also known in which direction this man Dau has fled?’ intervened Fidelma.

  ‘The person who saw the bishop riding towards Fearna observed that another man rode with him, Sister,’ the warrior replied. ‘Doubtless, that was Dau. They have fled together.’

  ‘Bishop Forbassach was not fleeing,’ the abbess laughed scornfully. ‘He rides to Fearna in order to bring the King and his warriors back here to make an end to your treachery, Coba, and an end to the false accusations of this friend of the Saxon murderer!’

  ‘I am cold and hungry. I do not feel well. Can’t we stop for a while?’

  The complaint came from the young girl, Conna.

  Eadulf drew to a halt and peered back to where the girl was lagging behind him and Muirecht in the gloom which was quickly descending over the mountain.

  ‘This is too exposed – without shelter, Conna,’ he replied. ‘We must reach the religious community before nightfall or soon after. If we halt here, we will freeze to death.’

  ‘I can’t go on. My legs are giving out.’

  Eadulf gritted his teeth. He knew that they were now on the southern slopes of the Yellow Mountain and must surely be near the sanctuary of which Dalbach had spoken. If they halted they would never get started again and, out here on the windy unprotected slopes of the mountain, they might soon perish of cold.

  ‘We will continue a little further. We cannot be far off now. I thought I saw a wooded area down on the lower slopes a while ago when the sun was out. We will head in that direction. At least, if we don’t find the religious settlement, then we will have some protection in the woods. We might even be able to get a fire going.’

  ‘I can’t move!’ wailed the young girl.

  ‘Leave her,’ muttered Muirecht. ‘I am cold and hungry too but I do not want to die this night.’

  Eadulf was about to rebuke her for her callousness but decided to save his breath. He turned and walked back to where Conna had sunk to a seat on a boulder.

  ‘If you can’t walk,’ he said firmly, ‘I must carry you.’

&nbs
p; The girl gazed up at him uncertainly. Then she bowed her head and rose unsteadily from her perch.

  ‘I will try to go on a little further,’ she conceded in a grumbling tone.

  It was a long time before the stretch of trees appeared over a sinewy shoulder of the mountain, a gloomy dark outline, no more. It was not far off and Eadulf could see nothing beyond its dim vista which seemed to merge with the slope of the mountains.

  ‘Come on!’ Eadulf said. ‘It will not be far now.’

  They trudged on, the younger girl whimpering to herself now and then, the older one silent and angry.

  The woods, when they reached them, were scarcely inviting in their dusk-shrouded blackness. Eadulf had trouble keeping to the track which led through them. Yet the fact that he had come on a well-used track was a good sign; it must mean that this was the way to the religious settlement. Nightfall came rapidly and there was no moon to light the way for the sky was cloudy and heavy.

  After a while Eadulf sensed the thinning of the trees: they had emerged into open country again. The track split in two and it was lucky that he had his eyes to the ground trying to decipher which direction it would be best to take, otherwise he would have missed the fact that the path was diverging.

  Muirecht suddenly gave a cry. ‘Look! There is a light down there. Look, Saxon, below us!’

  Eadulf raised his head. The girl was right. Some way down the darkened slope he could see the flicker of a light. Was it a fire or perhaps it was a lantern?

  ‘There is another light just above us,’ Conna pointed out peevishly.

  Eadulf turned in surprise and peered through the darkness in the opposite direction. Above them he saw the faint light of a dancing lantern. It was closer than the lights below. He made a decision.

  ‘We will go up towards that light.’

  ‘It would be easier to go down,’ protested Muirecht.

  ‘And further to return here if we are wrong,’ replied Eadulf logically. ‘We will go up.’

  He began to lead the way up the path towards the flickering light. It was further than he thought but at last they came to a flat area with several buildings, surrounded by walls, emerging from the darkness. A lantern hung above the gates and an iron crucifix was fixed to them marking the purpose for which the buildings were used.

  Eadulf gave a sigh of relief. At last they had found the religious sanctuary recommended by Dalbach. He tugged on the bell rope outside the gate.

  A young, fresh-faced religieux came to open up. He looked in astonishment at the strange trio who stood outside in the circle of light cast by the lantern.

  ‘May I see Brother Martan?’ Eadulf addressed him. ‘Dalbach sent me here to seek shelter. I need food, warmth and a bed for myself and the little ones.’

  The young religieux moved back and waved them inside.

  ‘Come in, come in, all of you.’ His welcome was enthusiastic. ‘I will take you to Brother Martan and while you speak with him, I shall see that your daughters are cared for.’

  Eadulf did not bother to correct the well-meaning young man.

  Brother Martan was stocky and chubby-faced. He was a man of advancing years and he wore a perpetual smile.

  ‘Deus tescum. You are welcome, stranger. I hear that you have come with Dalbach’s blessing.’

  ‘He told me that I might find a night’s sanctuary from the elements in your house.’

  ‘And Dalbach spoke truly. Have you come far, for your speech is that of a stranger to this land?’

  The old man halted for Eadulf had automatically taken off his hat during the conversation.

  ‘You wear the tonsure of Peter. So are you of the Faith?’

  ‘I am a Saxon Brother,’ admitted Eadulf.

  ‘And you travel with your children?’

  Eadulf shook his head and, without giving details of his own background, explained how he had encountered the girls.

  ‘Ah, such a tragedy is not unusual,’ sighed Brother Martan sadly, when Eadulf had finished. ‘I have heard of such an evil trade in human flesh before. And you say that the name of Gabrán was mentioned in this foul enterprise? He is a man known to our brethren at Fearna. He is a trader along the river.’

  ‘I shall be on my way to Fearna first thing in the morning.’

  ‘And the two girls?’

  ‘Could I leave them in your safekeeping?’

  Brother Martan gave his approval. ‘They can stay here for as long as it is necessary. Perhaps they can be offered a new life in a family community, since their own has rejected them. The Faith is always seeking novitiates.’

  ‘That is a matter for them to decide. At the moment they have had a harsh experience. To be betrayed is one thing, but to be betrayed by your own parents …’ He shuddered slightly.

  ‘Come, Brother,’ Brother Martan rose to his feet. ‘I have kept you long enough from food and mulled wine. Then you must rest. You look completely exhausted.’

  ‘I am,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘I nearly chose the wrong path when we came out of the woods. If I had made the wrong choice and wandered any longer on these slopes, I doubt whether I would have kept awake much longer.’

  Brother Martan smiled uncertainly. ‘Did you not see our lantern which we always keep burning outside the gates of our community?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘However, I thought that the other light might mark your community.’

  ‘The other light?’ Brother Martan raised an eyebrow slightly and then smiled as understanding came to him. ‘Ah! Down the mountain, a few kilometers from here, is one of the King’s hunting lodges. When he or his huntsmen are resting there, there is often a fire and lights to be seen. Fianamail or one of his family are doubtless resting there now.’

  Eadulf nearly groaned aloud in relief. Had he made the wrong choice, he knew how this day would have ended. Thankful, in more ways than one, Eadulf followed the kindly Father Superior to the refectory of the community.

  In the hall of the fortress of Cam Eolaing, Fidelma had quietly taken charge again.

  ‘Since Bishop Forbassach has fled from here,’ she told her audience with a note of sarcasm, ‘it might be interpreted – as he and others have interpreted similar actions in other people – as a sign of guilt.’ She gazed in challenge at Abbess Fainder who coloured hotly but did not comment. ‘However, we have much work to do with or without him.’

  ‘I do not think you have time to do anything, Sister Fidelma. The bishop will return with the King’s warriors soon,’ Mel said provokingly.

  Coba ignored his threat. ‘Why were you and Bishop Forbassach trying to kill the young girl?’ he demanded brusquely, without waiting for Fidelma to begin.

  ‘We were doing nothing of the kind!’ Mel responded coldly.

  ‘The girl herself accuses you.’

  ‘It is not so.’

  ‘It is! It is!’ Fial insisted, less hysterical now, and staring around at the company. ‘You are all trying to kill me.’

  Fidelma glanced at Coba before intervening, being technically a guest in his hall. The bó-aire gave silent consent.

  ‘Let us put this another way, Mel. Why were you and Bishop Forbassach in pursuit of the girl?’

  ‘It was well known that Sister Fial had gone missing from the abbey. All we were doing was trying to bring her back.’

  ‘But how did you know where she was?’ demanded Fidelma.

  ‘I did not know where she was. I don’t think Bishop Forbassach knew either until we came on her by accident.’

  ‘You say that you came on her by accident? I think that I have missed something. How did you come here in pursuit of Sister Fial?’

  ‘Why do you insist on calling me Sister?’ the girl intervened in a petulant cry. She started to sob again.

  Fidelma moved across and patted her on the arm.

  ‘Be patient a little longer, my dear. We shall not be long in approaching the truth.’ She glanced at Mel. ‘Proceed with your story, Mel. How did you come here?’

  ‘Yo
u must remember,’ Mel said. ‘You were there. I came down into the main room of my sister’s inn. You were there with Coba, Bishop Forbassach and the Abbot Noé. You accused Gabrán of attacking you. Bishop Forbassach told you that he would investigate and instructed me to go with him.’

  ‘That is why you were making enquiries about Gabrán at Cam Eolaing earlier?’ intervened Fidelma.

  Mel nodded affirmatively.

  ‘Bishop Forbassach and I went first to the abbey. And when he had seen Abbess Fainder we rode out in search of Gabrán to see if there was any truth in your claim. The bishop could not believe that you had made up the story.’

  Fidelma glanced towards Abbess Fainder. ‘Did you tell Forbassach where Fial was?’

  ‘I did not know where she was,’ she protested.

  ‘But you did see Bishop Forbassach this morning?’

  ‘He came early, after he had spoken with you at the inn. He told me of your claim about Gabrán but did not tell me that he was going in search of him. That’s why I went to find him myself.’

  Fidelma turned back to Mel. ‘And you tell me that you both left immediately in search of Gabrán? Are you claiming that you had only just arrived when we found you were chasing Fial?’

  ‘That is when we arrived at Gabrán’s boat, yes.’

  Fidelma shook her head reprovingly. ‘If you left the abbey when you claim that you did, and that seems to be confirmed by your early arrival at Cam Eolaing enquiring for Gabrán, how did you only just reach Gabrán’s boat when we encountered you? We could not have passed so far ahead of you.’

  ‘We were misled.’ Mel was unabashed by the apparent inconsistency. ‘We went up the wrong branch of the river and by the time we realised that it had become too narrow for Gabrán’s boat to be anywhere along it, we had fallen some hours behind you. We had to come all the way back almost to Cam Eolaing again before setting off along the right path. Had we not made that mistake, we would have reached Gabrán’s boat some hours ago, before you or the abbess.’

  ‘Forbassach and you are local men. You must have known how the river divides.’