Behold a Pale Horse

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Abbey of Bobium was a-throng with excitement even before Fidelma and Brother Eolann reached the main gates. Brother Bladulf, the gatekeeper, stood by them almost hopping from one foot to another in his apparent exhilaration. Wulfoald and his companions had left them within sight of the gates. He and his men were apparently staying the night in the township. They agreed to collect the horses when they returned to Lord Radoald’s fortress. Fidelma had considered it inappropriate to raise the matter of Wamba with Wulfoald. It was a subject that would have to be treated carefully.

Brother Wulfila, the steward, came hurrying through the crowd of curious brethren who had assembled to greet them. Willing hands were already helping them down from their horses. The pair ignored the numerous questions shouted at them and asked the steward to take them directly to Abbot Servillius.

The abbot met them in his chamber. Venerable Ionas was at his side but there was no sign of Magister Ado. Brother Wulfila remained in the chamber, shutting the door behind him.

‘My first question must be to ask whether you are in good health. Do you need any attention from Brother Hnikar?’ the abbot greeted them.

‘We are both well, Deo gratias,’ Brother Eolann answered for the two of them.

‘Deo optimo maximo,’ intoned Venerable Ionas gravely.

‘And now,’ invited the abbot, ‘keep us in suspense no longer. Tell us of your adventure which has so worried our brethren.’

Fidelma and Brother Eolann had already held a quick exchange in their own language as they had ridden back down the valley as to the extent of what they should reveal. It had been agreed that while they must report the death of Lady Gunora and the disappearance of Prince Romuald, they should say nothing about the boy Wamba, the gold coins nor his mother Hawisa. Omission was not the same as telling a lie, Fidelma reasoned, remembering a teaching of the Brehon Morann. When one is faced with such a dilemma one should always choose the path of the greater good even though you must do the lesser evil. Fidelma felt guilty nonetheless. Apart from that, they decided to stick to the truth.

It was Brother Eolann who announced the brief facts of their abduction and short imprisonment, and the details of their rescue. It was Fidelma who then described the finding of the body of Lady Gunora.

The abbot’s face was white with shock. ‘It cannot be true,’ he whispered.

Venerable Ionas laid a hand on the abbot’s arm. ‘If this is true, my friend, we had best resolve this mystery and quickly.’

Abbot Servillius became agitated as he shot a series of questions at Fidelma until Venerable Ionas intervened to advise him to allow Fidelma to complete her story beforeleaping to conclusions. It was clear that the abbot blamed the Lord of Vars for the death and believed the young prince, Romuald, was a prisoner at Vars.

‘Grasulf,’ Venerable Ionas explained quietly, when Fidelma had ended her story, ‘has long been an enemy of this abbey and, as you have discovered, he is an enemy of the Faith. He adheres to the ways of the old gods of the Longobards.’

‘We saw no sign of the boy in his fortress,’ Fidelma pointed out.

Abbot Servillius began to reassert his belief but was politely interrupted by Venerable Ionas. ‘Although Grasulf is certainly the sort of man who would have abducted Lady Gunora and the prince, as he abducted Sister Fidelma and Brother Eolann, he would not have them murdered. They were too valuable alive. He would have sold them to the highest bidder. He is a man without morals. If Perctarit paid the price, he would have handed the prince and Lady Gunora to him. Or if Grimoald wanted his son back and paid the price, then he would have sold them to him. A dead body is worth no ransom at all.’

‘It could be that the boy is still his captive at Vars and that Lady Gunora was killed in her attempt to stop the abduction,’ insisted the abbot.

‘But what was Lady Gunora doing on the mountain with the boy in the first place?’ Fidelma demanded. ‘You said that she had left the abbey to find a place of greater security for herself and the boy at the fortress of Lord Radoald. Why would she go in the opposite direction up that mountain?’

The abbot and Venerable Ionas exchanged a nervous glance. Then Abbot Servillius spoke. ‘It was as I said. Lady Gunora was worried when Bishop Britmund arrived here and witnessed her presence with the young prince. She said she did not feel safe and preferred to move on. She wantedno one told so left the abbey with the prince before first light.’

Brother Wulfila coughed to attract attention. ‘Even I, as steward of the abbey, was not informed, lady. I would most certainly have advised against it. It was a foolhardy thing, to leave here in darkness.’

‘I remember that you were looking for her,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘And she told no one else that she was leaving?’

‘She told me,’ answered the abbot. ‘I shared that information with the Venerable Ionas here and with Brother Bladulf, the gatekeeper, since he had to get her horse and open the gate. I swore him to secrecy and placed him under total absolution for any untruth he had to commit to maintain that secret. So there were only the three of us who knew that Lady Gunora and the boy were leaving.’

‘You said that Brother Bladulf had to get her horse. Are you saying that Lady Gunora and the boy left on one horse?’

‘One horse,’ confirmed the abbot. ‘The boy rode behind her.’

Fidelma considered the matter. ‘The fact remains that her body was found in entirely the opposite direction. If she and the boy were heading across Mount Pénas, in contradiction to her intended refuge with Lord Radoald, is there anywhere in particular that she might be making for?’

Abbot Servillius shrugged eloquently. ‘I cannot conceive of anywhere.’

‘There are practicalities to be considered,’ Venerable Ionas interrupted. ‘You have told us that you placed her body in one of the caves behind the sanctuary of Colmbanus. Then we must organise a party to retrieve the body. It is not fit that Lady Gunora lies unburied on the mountain. We should also inform Lord Radoald.’

‘Wulfoald and his men escorted us here,’ Fidelma pointed out. ‘He is staying overnight in the settlement. He could provide some protection if the brethren set out to retrieve the body of Lady Gunora.’

‘Protection?’ The abbot seemed shocked. ‘You think that Grasulf will attack the brethren sent to retrieve her body?’

‘It is possible,’ replied Fidelma.

‘There is little to be done today,’ Venerable Ionas decided. ‘If I may make some suggestions, Father Abbot? Let us allow Sister Fidelma and our good scriptor the opportunity to refresh themselves and have their evening bathe as is the custom of the Hibernians. Then let them rest and partake of the evening meal.’ He paused and glanced quickly at Fidelma. ‘We will ask Wulfoald to join us and present our request that he accompany Brother Bladulf and some members of the brethren to retrieve the body.’

Fidelma was hesitant. ‘Wulfoald has not been informed of our finding the body.’

‘Why ever not?’ demanded Venerable Ionas in surprise.

Fidelma thought rapidly as she did not want her suspicions of Wulfoald made obvious yet.

‘With our adventures, escaping from the fortress of Grasulf, it did not arise,’ she answered blandly. ‘My thoughts were concerned with returning safely to the abbey.’

‘Of course,’ the abbot seemed to agree. ‘But Wulfoald and Lord Radoald must be informed now. Brother Wulfila will go to the settlement and invite Wulfoald to attend our evening meal. Then we can inform him in detail of this tragic event.’

As Fidelma prepared to leave, she hesitated. ‘Where is Magister Ado? I do not see him. I trust he is also well?’

‘Magister Ado?’ replied the abbot. ‘He has gone to Travo.He left the morning after you began your journey to the sanctuary on Mount Pénas.’

‘Where is Travo?’ she asked. She seemed to recall the name.

‘It is further down the valley, towards Placentia. It is the site of the martyrdom of the Blessed Antonino, who suffered death under Diocletian. Magister Ado wished to make an offering at the church there which is one of the earliest dedicated to the Faith in this land. He should be back within a day or so and will be delighted to hear of your safe return.’

It was some time later after Fidelma had bathed and changed, and feeling unusually alert after her adventures, that she entered the refectorium. She found herself dismissing the expressions of concern from the brethren with a smile. There was also the small gathering of religieuses who shared the hall at mealtimes but she saw no sign of Sister Gisa. Nor could she see Brother Faro. She made her way to where Wulfoald stood with the abbot and Venerable Ionas.

It was clear that Wulfoald was not pleased. ‘I should have been informed immediately about your discovery of Lady Gunora’s body! Lord Radoald has been searching the valley for her,’ he greeted Fidelma curtly.

Fidelma was about to respond when Abbot Servillius interrupted to point out that it was better to continue the conversation after the meal. Once they were in their seats, he then decided it was appropriate to intone a lengthy homily in praise of God for guiding the footsteps of Fidelma and Brother Eolann out of danger and back to safety. He then added a brief attack on the pagan idolatry of Grasulf of Vars.

After the meal Abbot Servillius invited Wulfoald, Fidelma,Venerable Ionas and Brother Eolann back to his chamber. Fidelma explained to Wulfoald where the body of Lady Gunora had been found and where they had placed it.

‘Had we known this sooner, Radoald could have stopped wasting the time of his sentinels,’ grunted the warrior. ‘But I think we may assume that all immediate danger will come from Vars.’ He turned to Fidelma. ‘You saw no sign of any other prisoners during your incarceration in Vars?’

‘No. We saw no other prisoners.’

‘It does not mean to say that Prince Romuald was not there,’ pointed out Abbot Servillius.

‘That is true,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘So you believe that Grasulf would be the most likely person responsible for the death of the Lady Gunora and the disappearance of Prince Romuald?’

‘The only person, without doubt. He is a danger to the security of these valleys.’ Wulfoald was emphatic.

‘What intrigues me is this: how is it that, if Lady Gunora set off to seek refuge at Lord Radoald’s fortress, her body was found on the upper reaches of Mount Pénas, which is in the opposite direction?’ Fidelma had posed the question before without receiving an answer.

Wulfoald raised a shoulder a fraction and let it fall. ‘There might be several reasons for that. Perhaps she was captured and transported there before she was killed.’

Fidelma accepted that it was a logical explanation but she was not impressed by it.

‘I will send one of my men this very night to inform Lord Radoald about these matters,’ Wulfoald went on. ‘The rumours are increasing and ominous. If Perctarit has reached north of Mailand with a Frankish army, then we must be extremely vigilant. He is very near.’

Abbot Servillius was still showing apprehension in his drawn features. ‘And what of the body of the Lady Gunora?’

‘As you have already suggested, let Brother Bladulf take some of the brethren up to the sanctuary early in the morning to retrieve it. I will send two of my warriors to provide them with an escort. I shall also send a messenger back to Lord Radoald to inform him of the situation.’

‘The track we followed up towards the sanctuary led past a goatherd’s cabin where an old woman named Hawisa dwells,’ Fidelma said.

‘I know Hawisa’s cabin,’ Wulfoald assured her easily. He did not notice Fidelma’s quick look of surprise.

Abbot Servillius glanced around at them. ‘I think we are all aware of the dangers. So we should let our guest, Fidelma, rest after such a terrifying adventure. You as well, Brother Eolann. Wulfoald will organise that which he needs to organise.’

Fidelma was the last to leave the abbot’s chamber but, at the door, she paused and turned back.

‘I nearly forgot,’ she told him. ‘I was speaking to Brother Waldipert before we left the other day.’

Abbot Servillius looked up absently. ‘Brother Waldipert the cook?’

‘This is something not pertinent to the grave matters in hand. I have just remembered it — forgive me if I raise it now. I once mentioned in passing that I had an interest in ancient coins. Brother Waldipert said that he had recently come by one such coin and that he had given it to you. He found the coin strange and could not assess its value.’

‘He did? I can’t think … oh yes, that was some weeks ago.’

‘He seemed to think it was found locally and was of a great age. I was wondering if I could see it? As I say, I am fascinated by such matters.’

The abbot stared at her blankly for a moment and then gave an off-handed gesture. ‘That is not possible, Sister Fidelma.’

‘Oh?’

‘It disappeared from my study within a day or so of it being given to my safekeeping. We hunted high and low for it, but it was never found. It is terrible to think ill of one’s brethren but, alas, I can think of no other reason other than it was taken deliberately. However, it was only a small coin of no great value, even though it was of gold. The loss was negligible.’

There was a note of dismissal in his tone and Fidelma inclined her head and left.

Outside the door, she hurried through the now-deserted hallway into the courtyard. It was dark and only a few brand torches were blazing outside, casting shadowy, flickering lights across the almost empty area. Thankfully, Wulfoald had stopped to talk awhile with the Venerable Ionas, for they were just parting and Wulfoald was moving towards the gates.

‘Wulfoald, stay a moment!’

He turned at her breathless call.

‘Sister Fidelma. How can I help you?’

She came up to him in the light of a nearby torch. ‘I realised that I needed to ask you some questions.’

‘Questions, lady? About what?’

‘You found the body of the boy, Wamba, did you not?’

His eyes narrowed slightly. She could see the action clearly, even in the half-light.

‘Wamba?’ he repeated. ‘What have you heard of Wamba?’

‘I know he was a young goatherd who now lies buried in the abbey necropolis.’

‘He was buried there a week or so before you came to Bobium. How does he concern you, lady?’

‘It would be easier if you answered my questions first,’ insisted Fidelma, ‘and then I will see if things make sense or whether I am chasing shadows.’

Wulfoald shrugged indifferently. ‘So what is it you want to know?’

‘You confirm that you found his body?’

‘I did. You want the details? Then know that I was riding back over the hills, on the road to this abbey across Mount Pénas. I happened on the boy’s body lying alongside the track underneath a cliff face. It seemed that he had fallen and broken his neck.’

‘After you found the body, what then?’

‘I knew the boy. He was a goatherd and lived with his mother, Hawisa, not far from the place where I found him. You said that you passed her cabin on the way to the sanctuary.’

Fidelma controlled her surprise. ‘You say you know her?’

‘Of course. Most people know each other throughout this valley.’

‘So what did you do? With the body of Wamba, that is.’

‘I took him home.’

‘You took him home?’ Fidelma blinked.

‘To his mother Hawisa.’

‘You took his body to her cabin?’ pressed Fidelma.

‘Where else would I take it?’ the warrior replied in irritation.

Fidelma made a decision that she must now confront Wulfoald with the facts as Hawisa had told them.

‘What if I told you that Hawisa says that you took the body straight to the abbey, and by the time she came here, the body of her son was already buried?’

Wulfoald’s face wore a look of amazement. Then he said, slowly, ‘I would say, lady, that one of us was not telling you the truth.’

‘Why would the old woman lie?’

‘Why would I lie?’ the warrior retorted.

‘There might be many reasons.’

‘Then ask Abbot Servillius, if you doubt my word.’

Fidelma frowned uncertainly. ‘Abbot Servillius? What has he to do with it?’

‘He was at Hawisa’s cabin when I brought the boy’s body there.’

It was Fidelma’s turn to stare at him in amazement. ‘What was he doing there?’

‘He had gone to see Wamba or Hawisa about giving them the value of a coin that the boy had found and brought to the abbey. Apparently it was only a small coin and not worth much, but the boy had thought it valuable. We agreed with Hawisa that the boy’s body would be taken to the abbey graveyard as a tribute. We all came down to the abbey for the burial that night. Hawisa stayed with a relative in the settlement.’

Fidelma stood unable to move, totally bewildered at the man’s confidence. ‘I say again,’ she finally said, ‘why would the old woman lie?’

Wulfoald’s tone was belligerent. ‘I can offer no explanation, lady. But there is one way to answer the question.’

‘Which is?’

‘To put it to the person who can answer it.’

‘Hawisa?’

‘Exactly so. Tomorrow, when my men go to the sanctuary, I shall accompany them as far as Hawisa’s cabin. They can go on but I shall put the question to her.’

‘Then you will have no objection if I accompany you?’ she said coldly.

‘I would expect no less. However, having been once abducted on that mountain, are you sure that you are willing to ride up there again? Is that wise?’

‘Wise or not, I think we should both hear the answer that Hawisa gives us as to what are two diametrically opposed accounts over the death of her son.’

‘Agreed, lady. You are right. Let us meet here at first light.’

‘Very well. One more thing,’ she said as Wulfoald started to turn away.

‘Only one?’ He turned back with a thin smile.

‘When you came across the body of Wamba, was there anything suspicious about it?’

‘Suspicious?’ She had his full attention now. He took a small step towards her, staring down into her face as if trying to read her mind. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Everything appeared as if he had missed his footing at that point, fallen down the cliffs and broken his neck?’

‘What else could have happened?’

‘What else?’ echoed Fidelma softly, but did not answer the question.

‘I don’t know what is in your mind, lady, but I have told you what I know. Now, tomorrow we will attempt to discover why you have been told one story which I know is contrary to what happened.’

He turned on his heel and strode rapidly for the gates of the abbey. A shadow emerged — she realised it was Brother Bladulf — and a gate swung open to allow him to leave. Fidelma stood for a while gazing thoughtfully after him. Then, making up her mind, she returned to the abbot’s chambers. The steward, Brother Wulfila, was outside.

‘I wish to see the abbot,’ she told him.

‘He has retired for the night with strict instructions not to be disturbed. I am surprised that you are still up, lady, after our exhausting adventures.’

‘I presume the abbot rises early?’

‘He does.’

‘Then it will have to wait until the morning.’

The steward inclined his head. ‘Vade in pace.’

Outside, Fidelma glanced quickly up towards the windows of the scriptorium. A flickering light was showing in the window above. She strode purposefully through the hall, turned to the left, through the small cloistered area, and then ran up the stairs into the tower.

The door to the scriptorium was not locked. She entered and found Brother Eolann seated at his desk before a tall tallow candle. He looked up with a tired smile.

‘You are working late, Brother Eolann,’ she said. ‘And at a time when you should be resting after the adventures we have had.’

‘I have much work to catch up on, lady.’

‘We both should be resting,’ she said.

Brother Eolann looked at her expectantly as she paused. ‘But there is something on your mind, lady?’

‘You remember our conversation with Hawisa, the mother of the boy Wamba?’

The scriptor looked puzzled. ‘I do.’

‘Are you satisfied that she was telling us the truth?’

‘I thought so. Why do you ask?’

‘I wanted to know why Wulfoald had taken the boy’s body directly here to the abbey for burial and not to her cabin. That is what she told us, was it not?’

The look of bewilderment increased. ‘I remember what she said clearly.’

‘I do not wish to cast aspersions on your knowledge of this Longobard language, nor on your interpretation, but are you satisfied that she was telling us the truth?’

‘As I said, I thought she was.’

‘When I asked Wulfoald just now, he said that this was not so. He claims that he took her son’s body to her cabin and, moreover, Abbot Servillius was there with Hawisa at the time.’

‘Abbot Servillius was …? I was not told that. I mean, she did not tell me that.’ Even in the candlelight it seemed that Brother Eolann’s features had paled. Then he shook his head in denial. ‘That cannot be, lady. Someone is lying and I would say it is Wulfoald. The woman Hawisa was clear in her statement. I cannot see where there is any misunderstanding.’

‘I thought so,’ sighed Fidelma.

‘Anyway, there is one way to discover the truth,’ Brother Eolann went on. ‘Ask Abbot Servillius if he was there.’

‘He has retired for the night. I shall question him in the morning. But I want to find out why Hawisa lied to us.’

‘Then I am not sure what you-’

‘I have agreed with Wulfoald that we shall ride to Hawisa’s cabin at first light and speak with her again,’ she interrupted.

‘Is that a good idea?’ he protested. ‘If it is not Hawisa who is lying then it must be Wulfoald, and why would he lie unless there were some good reason — one that he does not want you to discover.’

‘I thought of that, which is why you must come with us. Once more I would have to rely on your ears and tongue as my interpreter so that I know what Hawisa is saying to Wulfoald.’

Brother Eolann was hesitant. ‘Is it necessary?’

‘It is.’

‘Then, of course, I shall come with you.’

‘Excellent. We shall meet in the courtyard at first light.’

As she reached the arch that led into the courtyard, Fidelma heard the sound of horses leaving the abbey. She paused in the shadow of the cloisters and saw two riders moving through the gates. Although they had their backs to Fidelma and only the torch-light to illuminate them, she could make out that one was male and one female. They disappeared into the darkness outside. Curious, she made her way to where Brother Bladulf was closing the gates after them.

‘Who was that leaving the abbey?’ she asked.

Brother Bladulf turned, surprised. ‘Oh, it is you, Sister … er, lady,’ he said, recovering. ‘That was the abbot.’

Fidelma stared at him in astonishment. ‘But the abbot had retired for the night and left instructions not to be disturbed. Who was the woman with him?’

‘Sister Gisa, lady. She came to get the abbot. An emergency, she said.’

‘An emergency?’ she echoed.

‘Old Aistulf. He is unwell and Sister Gisa came to fetch the abbot.’

‘Aistulf?’

‘So you have heard of Aistulf? Apparently, he was an old friend of Abbot Servillius but he only appeared in this valley two years ago. He is a hermit, who plays the pipes yet shuns regular intercourse with his fellow beings. He prefers to sleep in a cave and wander the woods at will.’

‘So there is an emergency with Aistulf. Does the abbot usually rise from his bed in the middle of the night to respond so promptly to his call?’

Brother Bladulf pulled a sad face. ‘Not often, although sometimes he has sent word and the abbot has responded.This time Sister Gisa was in a panic so perhaps it is some medical matter.’

‘Then why not send for Brother Hnikar?’

‘Brother Hnikar?’ The gatekeeper’s expression was dour. ‘He is a good physician, do not mistake me. But Brother Hnikar is the last person I would send for if I was dying and needed comfort rather than a lecture on how I should have led my life before I reached the point of death.’

‘He is as bad as that?’ Fidelma tried to keep a straight face.

‘If I were a hermit, in love with nature, I would not send for him. Anyway, I do not think that enters into it. Aistulf only trusts Abbot Servillius and Sister Gisa. I am told that Sister Gisa has a good knowledge of the apothecary’s art.’

‘Do they have far to go?’

‘A good question, lady, but one without an answer. Somewhere up into the hills across the river,’ he pointed in the opposite direction to the slopes of Mount Pénas. ‘No one but the abbot and Sister Gisa are allowed to know where he bides. And now, lady, the hour grows later … I have to be up early to lead the brethren up to the sanctuary to recover the body of Lady Gunora.’

Fidelma took the hint and turned back towards the guest-hostel. Suddenly realising just how exhausted she was, she collapsed straight onto her bed and was asleep before she could put the cavalcade of thoughts into some order.

Someone was shaking her by the shoulder. She blinked and tried to focus. Then she started nervously.

Brother Wulfila, the steward, was standing by her bed with a candle.

‘Venus, the morning star, is already clear in the eastern sky. It will soon be dawn, lady. I was told to wake you. Brother Bladulf and some of the brethren have already left on foot for the sanctuary.’

She struggled up in the bed. ‘Dawn already?’ She tried to think.

‘Wulfoald is in the courtyard and has given orders that a horse be saddled ready for you.’

‘Wulfoald?’ She paused for a moment and then groaned as memory came flooding back. ‘I am sorry, Brother Wulfila. Last evening saw me exhausted and my mind is still confused. My apologies. Tell Wulfoald I will join him shortly.’

As he set down the candle for her and turned for the door, she called, ‘Is Brother Eolann already in the courtyard as well?

Brother Wulfila turned back with a frown. ‘Brother Eolann, the scriptor, Sister?’

‘Yes.’

‘No, he is not there.’

‘He might have overslept as I did,’ Fidelma said. ‘Could you make sure he is roused? He is joining Wulfoald and me, so he must be quick.’

The steward looked astonished. ‘You are free to come and go as you will, lady, but the scriptor must have permission from the abbot.’

Fidelma sighed impatiently. ‘Has Abbot Servillius returned then? He rode out last night in answer to a plea from Aistulf the hermit.’

Brother Wulfila was shaking his head. ‘He has not returned, lady.’

‘Very well. If he must secure permission, then seek it from Venerable Ionas but go and make sure Brother Eolann is ready to join us. It is necessary.’

‘Very well, Sister. There are not too many people stirring in the abbey at the moment, for many were up to see the fire earlier.’

Fidelma kept her irritation under control. ‘The fire? What fire?’

‘Oh, there appeared to be a great fire high up on the mountain, on Mount Pénas. It blazed brightly in the darkness. Several of our brethren were roused and went out to stand watching it. It blazed a long time. Sometimes, when the weather is hot, fires start among the trees up there.’