The Haunted Abbot (26 page)

‘Are you truly set upon this path, Gadra?’ Fidelma asked softly. ‘Is there no other way of seeking the truth than by the
troscud
?’

Gadra smiled with humour. ‘The ritual began when my intention was announced. The words have left my son’s mouth and cannot be returned to it.’

Garb nodded slowly. ‘If my father dies during the
troscud
and Abbot Cild has not come to arbitration and confessed his guilt, then the shame is his and he is cursed in this life and the next. Any man may slay him with impunity. I shall be that man, and if I am not, then my clansmen will see that retribution is taken.’

‘The people of this country will not see the justice in that,’ Eadulf pointed out.

‘But the people in my country will,’ replied Garb with equanimity.

‘I would still want to find the truth by some other means than this,’ Eadulf said stubbornly.

The old chieftain turned to him, his eyes sparkling.

‘There is nothing stopping you. You may proceed in your way but do not seek to prevent me proceeding in mine.’

Fidelma nodded solemnly. ‘No one will do that, Gadra.’ She glanced warningly at Eadulf and continued. ‘But as for seeking the truth by any other means, the problem is that all the witnesses as to what exactly happened to Gélgeis are dead.’

‘Save for the very man who killed her. May her shade haunt him to his grave,’ snapped Garb.

Eadulf jerked his head up. His eyes widened.

‘Haunt?’ he exclaimed. ‘What makes you say that?’

Garb laughed outright.

‘Do not tell me that your people are afraid of spirits from the Otherworld? If so, may the abbot share that fear for then I will rejoice if the shadows cause him to look twice to each corner of the room, or down each dark corridor that he traverses.’

Eadulf saw Fidelma shake her head so slightly that no one else noticed the gesture. She stood up and stretched uncomfortably.

‘I am afraid that I must beg your forgiveness.’ She smiled around the assembled company. ‘I would like to find a bed to rest for this night. It is not that the hour grows late but I am still weak from the days of illness that caused my confinement in the abbey.’

Brother Laisre moved forward with concern on his features.

‘Of course, Sister. But have you forgotten what night this is? At midnight we celebrate the birth of the Christ child.’

Fidelma looked embarrassed. She had forgotten that it was the eve of Christ’s Mass.

‘If I may lie down until it is time to celebrate … ?’

‘Even in our poor circumstances, dwelling in these woods, we have made a little guests’ hostel,’ Brother Laisre replied with dignity. ‘Allow me to instruct one of the brethren to take you there and see that the fire has been adequately prepared.’

Fidelma glanced at Gadra.

‘You will excuse me, Gadra of Maigh Eo?’

‘Rest well,’ the elderly man replied gravely. ‘We will talk further in the morning.’

She was moving to the door when a thought struck her and she turned back.

‘There is one thing that occurs to me before I retire, Brother Laisre. I presume that you will be in touch with the abbey to let the abbot know of the progress of the
troscud
. It seems to me that unless he knows and is informed of the progress of the ritual it would have little effect. Who replaces Brother Botulf as your contact within the abbey?’

It was Gadra who answered.

‘You have a sharp mind, Fidelma, as befits a
dálaigh
of your standing. A means of communication was opened up through the apothecary of the abbey. He has agreed to keep the abbot informed.’

‘The apothecary? Brother Higbald?’ Eadulf was surprised. ‘And how is he told?’

‘We have a number of brothers who take it in turn to watch the abbey and leave messages at a prearranged spot where this apothecary can pick them up or, indeed, leave messages for us if he feels it necessary.’

Fidelma was thoughtful.

‘How did Brother Higbald come to agree to act as your new intermediary?’ she asked.

‘Two days ago, the abbot led a party out into the marshes,’ Garb said. Then he smiled. ‘Not long afterwards one of the abbey brethren set out alone on a mule in the direction they had taken. We were going to waylay him …’

Eadulf looked astonished and was about to identify himself as the lone rider when Garb continued.

‘Then we saw another member of the brethren following. It turned out to be Brother Higbald. He turned in the same direction. My men and I waylaid him instead. We did so as soon as he was in the shelter of the woods … I hasten to say that we stopped him at swordpoint otherwise I doubt whether our conversation would have been very fruitful.’

‘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 tired-looking 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 around the 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.’

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.

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 anywhere along 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.’