Our Lady of Darkness

Chapter Fifteen

‘Gabrán?’ Sister Étromma appeared surprised as she faced Fidelma at the gates of the abbey. ‘What makes you think that I would know where he is?’

Fidelma was a trifle impatient with the stewardess.

‘You are the rechtaire of the abbey. As Gabrán trades regularly with the abbey, I would expect that you might be the first person one should ask as to his possible whereabouts.’

Sister Étromma admitted reluctantly to the logic but spread her hands in a gesture denoting her inability to help.

‘I am sorry, Sister. These are difficult times and since the Saxon’s escape yesterday, the Mother Abbess has been particularly …’ She hesitated and grimaced. ‘Really, I don’t know where he is.’ Her voice was complaining. ‘Suddenly, everyone seems so keen to find Gabrán. I do not understand it.’

‘Everyone?’ Fidelma asked the question swiftly, interested at the comment. ‘I don’t follow you.’

Sister Étromma reconsidered her statement.

‘I mean that several people have asked me today if I know where he might be. The Mother Abbess, among others. I told her a short while ago that I was not his keeper.’

Fidelma raised a sceptical eyebrow at the idea of the bird-like, nervous stewardess saying anything so outrageous to the haughty abbess.

‘So Abbess Fainder was asking for him this morning?’ She was thoughtful.

‘Asking if I knew where he was,’ corrected the rechtaire.

‘But you have no idea of his whereabouts?’

Sister Étromma exhaled in exasperation.

‘The man lives on his boat unless he is too drunk to return to it. He comes from Cam Eolaing. His boat is not at the abbey quay so he could be anywhere along the river, anywhere between Cam Eolaing and Loch Garman to the south of here. I am not an augur so cannot tell you exactly where he is.’

Fidelma was surprised at the stewardess’s irritability.

‘Perhaps you can make a guess?’ she enquired gently.

Sister Étromma seemed about to refuse and then she shrugged.

‘Abbess Fainder chose to ride towards Cam Eolaing. Therefore I would imagine that is a good starting place to look for him.’

As Sister Étromma made to turn away, Fidelma stayed her. ‘There are a few questions that I would like to ask in order to clarify some matters, Sister Étromma. It is obvious that you are hostile to Abbess Fainder. Why is that?’

The stewardess glared defiantly at her. ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

‘Sometimes things can be so obvious that they are unseen.’

‘I had ambition. A small ambition, true. Should I like the person who stole that ambition from me?’

‘Then you must equally dislike Abbot Noé for bringing Fainder here and making her abbess over your head?’

Sister Étromma shrugged. ‘I no longer care. I have already told you that I have other plans now.’

‘What of this merchant, Gabrán?’ Fidelma changed the subject. ‘He seems to have a special relationship with the abbess. He entered her chamber without knocking the other day.’

Sister Étromma chuckled sourly. ‘That can be put down to his churlish, uncouth attitude. But it is true that he seems to do some private trade for the abbess. He thinks it gives him a special, familiar relationship with her. He brings her merchandise like wine and other goods when he returns from the seaport at Loch Garman.’

Fidelma paused a moment before turning to another matter.

‘The night the young girl Gormgilla was killed …’

‘I told you what I know,’ Sister Étromma interrupted quickly.

‘I wanted to clarify something. When Fainder had her body brought into the abbey and sent for you, where were you exactly? Asleep?’

Sister Étromma frowned. ‘No. As a matter of fact, I met our physician, Brother Miach, who had been summoned to examine the dead girl, when I was on my way from the bibliotheca to my chamber.’

‘Why were you in the library so late at night?’

‘Because of Abbot Noé. I had been delayed by the stable lads who had asked me if they should unharness Bishop Forbassach’s horse …’

Fidelma was confused. ‘I thought that you said that Abbot Noé …?’

Sister Étromma heaved an impatient sigh.

‘Forbassach had arrived late at the abbey and left the stable in a hurry. He had not given instructions as to what should be done with his horse, whether he would be needing it again that night. He had obviously ridden some way in a hurry for it was sweating. I gave instruction to the stable lads and was making my way to my bed …’

‘When had he arrived at the abbey? Was this before or after Abbess Fainder arrived?’ demanded Fidelma. She felt it obvious that Forbassach and Fainder had ridden separately from Raheen but she wanted to be sure.

‘He arrived some time before Fainder announced the discovery of the girl’s body. I was told that she had only just arrived at the abbey when she had discovered it.’

Fidelma paused. Forbassach could well have arrived before the girl was murdered. She wondered if there was any significance in that fact. Then she continued: ‘So you left the stable and went to your chamber?’

‘No. I was on my way to my chamber when I heard a noise in the bibliotheca. I looked in and saw Abbot Noé. I asked him if I could help him. I am the rechtaire, after all.’

Fidelma tried not to show her reaction.

‘So Abbot Noé was also in the abbey that night? I thought his apartment was in Fianamail’s fortress.’

‘He said that he was consulting some old books.’

‘How long were you with him before you went to your chamber?’

‘A few moments only. He told me, quite curtly, that he did not need my help.’

‘And then?’

‘Then I continued on towards my chamber until, as I have said, I encountered Brother Miach, who told me that the abbess had arrived back and a young novitiate of the abbey had been found dead. I went with him and the rest you know.’

Fidelma was silent for a moment or two. Then she found Sister Étromma gazing at her speculatively.

‘Does that clarify matters for you?’

‘It helps,’ Fidelma conceded with a quick smile. ‘It helps a lot.’

Fidelma returned hurriedly to the inn where she had left Dego and Enda saddling the horses in preparation to go in search of the boatman.

‘Did you find out where he is?’ Enda greeted her as she entered the stables.

‘Not exactly. But we shall ride for Cam Eolaing for a start. It seemsthat Abbess Fainder is also looking for Gabrán and has gone ahead.’

‘Abbess Fainder?’ Dego was interested. ‘I wonder why she would be looking for Gabrán?’

Fidelma was thoughtful as she mounted her horse. However, she had no answer for him.

Eadulf felt trapped. He knew that the approaching boatman meant him no good. Some tension in the atmosphere communicated itself to Dalbach.

‘You know my cousin?’

‘I know that his name is Gabrán and he tried to kill me this morning.’

‘Oh, so it is Gabrán,’ Dalbach said. ‘He is not my cousin, though I know him. Gabrán is a merchant who sometimes passes by here. I do not understand why he should wish you harm, but I can tell that you fear him. Quick — you will find a ladder leading to the loft. Go up and hide — I will not betray you. Trust me. Do it now!’

Eadulf hesitated only a moment. He had no other choice. The foxy-faced boatman was almost at the door.

He grabbed his cloak from the back of the chair, setting it upright, and leapt for the ladder, scuttling up it. He knew his life now hung in the balance for the boatman was armed and he was defenceless.

He barely had time to stretch himself out on the wooden boards that constituted the floor of the loft, his head close to the hatch opening which gave him a view, albeit restricted, of the scene below, when the door of the cabin swung open.

‘A good day to you, Dalbach. It is I, Gabrán,’ the boatman called as he entered.

Dalbach moved towards him, hand outstretched.

‘Gabrán, it is some time since you have stopped by my cabin. Good day to you. Come and sample some of my mead and tell me what brings you here.’

‘That I will, gladly,’ replied the other.

The man moved out of Eadulf’s sight. He heard the noise of liquid being poured into an earthenware mug.

‘Health to you, Dalbach.’

‘Health, Gabrán.’

There was silence for a moment or so and then Gabrán smacked his lips in appreciation.

‘I was expecting to meet a fellow merchant close by here who wasbringing me some goods from Rath Loirc. I don’t suppose you heard anything of strangers about here this morning?’ came his next question.

Eadulf tensed, unsure whether his new friend would betray him or not.

‘I have heard of no merchant here today,’ replied Dalbach evasively.

‘Well, I must return to my boat and send one of my men to search for him.’ He paused and seemed to reconsider. ‘Have any other strangers been this way? There is a hunt for an escaped Saxon murderer in these parts.’

‘A Saxon, you say?’

‘A murderer who escaped from my lord Coba’s fortress, killing the guard who tried to prevent him and knocking unconscious another. Coba had given the man sanctuary and this is how his kindness has been repaid.’

Eadulf ground his teeth at the easy lies that came to the man’s lips.

‘That sounds a terrible thing.’ Dalbach’s voice was soft.

‘Terrible it is. Coba has some men out searching for him. Well, as I say, I must return to my boat. If you do happen on my missing merchant … but you say that you have seen nobody?’

‘I have seen nobody,’ agreed Dalbach. Eadulf caught a note of solemn humour in his voice as he emphasised the word ‘seen’. The blind man was not lying.

‘Well, my thanks for the drink. I will send one of my men into the hills to find the missing merchant and my merchandise. If he does happen by here, tell him to wait for my man. I do not want to miss such valuable-’

The voice stopped abruptly. Eadulf, unable to see what was happening below, stiffened in alarm.

‘If no one has been here, why are there two bowls on the table … the remains of two meals?’ demanded Gabrán’s voice, edged with suspicion.

Eadulf gave a silent groan. He had forgotten the stew that he had been eating. The remains were in full sight on the table.

‘I did not say that no one has been here.’ Dalbach’s response was swift, assured. ‘I thought that you had merely meant strangers. No one whom I consider a stranger has been here.’

There was a tense pause. Then Gabrán seemed satisfied at the explanation.

‘Well, be warned. This Saxon may be glib of tongue but he is a killer.’

‘I heard the Saxon was a religious.’

‘Yes, but he raped and killed a young girl.’

‘God have mercy on his soul!’

‘God may have mercy but we will not when we have caught him,’ came the testy reply. ‘Good day, friend Dalbach.’

Eadulf saw the man move back into his line of vision and the door open.

‘May you have success in finding your merchant friend, Gabrán,’ Dalbach called. There was a muttered acknowledgement.

The door shut. Eadulf waited for a while and then eased himself up to his knees and moved across the floor to a small aperture. He saw the boatman, Gabrán, disappearing along the path into the woods. He suppressed a sigh of relief and returned to the ladder.

‘Has he gone?’ came Dalbach’s whisper.

‘He has,’ Eadulf called softly down. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for not giving me away. Why?’

‘Why?’ echoed Dalbach.

Eadulf moved down the ladder to stand beside him.

‘Why did you protect me? If this man Gabrán was your friend, why did you hide me from him? You heard what he had to say about me. I am a killer who apparently will stop at nothing to escape. Another man would feel threatened by my presence.’

‘Did you do the things he claimed you did?’ asked Dalbach abruptly.

‘No, but-’

‘Did you escape from Coba’s fortress and kill a guard, as he said?’

‘I knocked a bowman unconscious but I did not kill a guard. The man was trying to kill me. It was Gabrán himself who came and told me that I was free to leave. The moment I stepped beyond the walls of the fortress, he tried to shoot me down.’

Dalbach stood in silent thought for a moment or two. Then he reached out a hand and found Eadulf’s arm.

‘As I have said before, blindness does not rob men of their senses. Often, it causes other senses to awake. I told you that I trusted you, Brother Eadulf.’ His voice was serious. ‘As for Gabrán, perhaps “friend” was the wrong word to describe him. He is someone who travels through here now and then and calls to pass the time of day with me. I know him to be a merchant and sometimes he brings me gifts from friends. Now, be seated again, Brother Eadulf, and let us finish the meal and talk of your plan to return to Fearna.’

Eadulf reseated himself ‘My plan?’ he asked, his mind distracted by the appearance of Gabrán.

‘Before Gabrán turned up we were talking of your plan to get to Fearna and find your friend from Cashel,’ Dalbach reminded him.

‘Before we do so, I would like to know more of this man, Gabrán. You mentioned that he was a merchant?’

‘Yes, he is a trader. He has his own boat and moves freely along the river.’

‘I am sure that I once saw him in the abbey at Fearna.’

‘No doubt. He trades regularly with the abbey.’

‘But why did he come to Coba’s fortress to tell me that I was free to go? I thought he was one of Coba’s men.’

‘Perhaps the chieftain of Cam Eolaing paid him to pretend to release you and then shoot you down,’ offered Dalbach.

‘That could be what happened,’ Eadulf said, having given the matter thought. ‘But why should Coba rescue me from the abbey in the first place if he merely wanted my death?’

‘Gabrán’s services are probably available to anyone who pays him, so maybe it was someone else. But that is a mystery which you must deal with. All I can tell you is that Gabrán is well-known along the river.’

‘You said that he often comes this way.’

‘I think that he must have family in the hills.’

Eadulf was interested in this deduction and said so.

‘He often returns from his visits into the hills with young women. I presume that they are his relatives accompanying him back to the river.’

‘You presume? Doesn’t he introduce them?’

‘He leaves them in the woods there when he comes to visit me, but I hear their voices at a distance. He stops for refreshment, you see — I always have mead on hand.’

‘They never come with him to your cabin?’

‘Never,’ Dalbach confirmed. ‘But what will you do about continuing your journey? Gabrán’s arrival makes me suggest that you should not delay. I realise that if, instead of Gabrán, it had been my cousin from Fearna then you might not have escaped attention.’

‘Perhaps it is wise not to stay longer than is necessary,’ agreed Eadulf.

‘Then you must take some clothes of mine and a hat to disguise you.’

‘You are kind, Dalbach.’

‘Not kind, although the sages tell us to have a kind look on another’s misery. I glean my own satisfaction from making a small stand for justice.’ He stood up. ‘Now come with me and I shall show you where I keep some spare clothing and you may make the choice for your journey. Have you thought how you will approach Fearna?’

‘How I will approach it?’

‘The route which you will take there. I am told that the Brehon Bishop Forbassach is clever. He may deduce that you will attempt to make contact with your friend, Sister Fidelma, and mount a watch for you along the road from Cam Eolaing. It would be best to go north, across the mountains, and then approach Fearna from the northerly road. They would never expect you to come from that direction.’

Eadulf considered for a moment or so. ‘It is a clever idea,’ he agreed. ‘It will be a cold night so do not attempt to stay on the mountains. There is a tiny sanctuary at the Church of the Blessed Brigid which lies on the southern slopes of the Yellow Mountain. Remember that place. The Father Superior, Brother Martan, is a kindly man. Mention my name and you will be given a warm bed and food.’

‘I shall remember that. You have been a good friend to a friendless soul, Dalbach.’

‘What is the cry — justitia omnibus. Justice for all or justice for no one,’ Dalbach replied.

The bright autumn morning, with its sharp frost and clear skies, had begun to turn into a more typical dull, cheerless day. Cold, grey-white stormclouds had blown up from the south-west foretelling rain to come. At first the clouds had appeared very high, wispy as a mare’s tail, developing into a lofty, milky sheet which, from Fidelma’s knowledge, meant that the rain would arrive in twelve hours or less.

Fidelma, with Dego and Enda, had ridden along the river path towards Cam Eolaing and once or twice they had paused to hail passing boatmen in order to seek news of Gabrán. It seemed that his boat, the Cág, had not been seen passing downriver and so it was logical to assume that it was still moored at Cam Eolaing.

Cam Eolaing was a curious junction of rivers and rivulets set in a valley. At the spot where most of these waters intersected, they spread almost into a lake through which there were a series of islands not really inhabited for they were low and marshy. To the north and to thesouth, rose hills guarding this valley. On the northern shore, on a strategically placed hill, stood a fortress dominating the area. Fidelma guessed that this was Coba’s fortress in which Eadulf had been given sanctuary on the previous day.

Beyond the lake, another ribbon of water flowed from the east, its origin shrouded among the rising hills. Cam Eolaing dominated the gateway through this hill countryside to the west. Below the fortress, mainly along the banks of the river, were several cabins, particularly along the north bank.

Fidelma indicated that they should halt for a while and Dego went to make enquiries about Gabrán and his boat from a blacksmith, who was engaged in preparing a fire in his forge as they approached. The brawny leather-jacketed man barely paused in his work but spoke gruffly and pointed across the river. Dego returned to them and explained.

‘Apparently Gabrán usually keeps his vessel moored on the south bank of the river, lady. He lives just over there.’

The river was broad here and unfordable.

‘We’ll have to find a boat to take us across,’ muttered Enda, pointing out the obvious.

Dego indicated along the bank to where there were several small boats drawn up.

‘The smith says that someone along there will row us across.’

The blacksmith was right. They soon found a woodcutter who offered to take them across for a small consideration. It was decided that Enda would remain with the horses while Dego would accompany Fidelma to find Gabrán.

They were already in midriver when the woodcutter glanced over his shoulder and paused in his rowing.

‘Gabrán is not there,’ he announced. ‘Do you still want to cross?’

Dego frowned sternly. ‘Not there? If you knew that, why did you embark on this journey?’

The woodcutter glanced at him pityingly. ‘I cannot see round corners, my fiery friend. It is only from here in midstream that I can see his moorings behind that islet. The Cág, that is his boat, is not at her moorings there. So Gabrán is not there. He lives on his boat, you see.’

Dego looked deflated at the explanation.

‘Nevertheless, we shall continue,’ insisted Fidelma. ‘I see that there are other cabins by those moorings and someone may know where he has gone.’

The woodcutter silently bent to his oars again. He landed them at the empty mooring, and pointed out a cabin which belonged to Gabrán, although he explained that the boatman never stayed in it. Fidelma made him promise to wait and row them back when they had concluded their business. There was no one at the cabin, but a passing woman carrying a bundle of sticks slung on her back, halted at the sight of them.

‘Are you seeking Gabrán, Sister?’ she asked respectfully.

‘I am.’

‘He does not live there, although the cabin is his. He prefers to spend all his time on his boat.’

‘I see. The fact that his boat is not here must mean that he is not here either?’

The woman agreed with her logic.

‘He was here earlier this morning but he cast off very early. There was some excitement at the chieftain’s fortress this morning.’

‘Was Gabrán involved in it?’

‘I doubt it; it was something to do with an escaped foreigner. Gabrán is more concerned with his profits than with what happens at the fortress of our chieftain.’

‘We were told that the Cág had not sailed downriver today.’

The woman indicated north with her head.

‘Then it went upriver. That’s common sense. Is something amiss that so many people are seeking Gabrán today?’

Fidelma had been turning away when she paused and glanced back at the woman.

‘So many people?’

‘Well, I do not know her name, but there was a grand religieuse here. She was making enquiries after Gabrán not long ago.’

‘Was it Abbess Fainder of Fearna?’

The woman shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know her. I don’t go into Fearna — it’s a big, busy place.’

‘You implied that other people have asked you about Gabrán today?’

‘A warrior was here as well. He announced himself as a commander of the King’s guards.’

‘Was his name Mel?’

‘He didn’t say.’ She shrugged again. ‘He was here even before the grand religieuse.’

‘He was looking for Gabrán?’

‘In a great hurry, he was. Seemed most put out when I told him where the Cág had gone. Upriver? says he. Upriver? Then off he goes, racing away.’

‘I see. I don’t suppose that he mentioned why he wanted to find Gabrán?’

‘Not he.’

‘So we will find Gabrán somewhere upriver?’

‘I have said as much.’

Fidelma waited but when no further information was forthcoming she asked: ‘Yet this river appears to have two main arteries beyond those islands. Which one do we take?’

‘You are a stranger here, Sister,’ the woman chided. ‘There is only one route for a boat. The eastern branch of the river is not negotiable for a boat the size of the Cág. Gabrán usually takes the northern route to some settlements along the way. He collects some merchandise there before he returns downriver where he sells it.’

Fidelma thanked the woman and turned for the woodcutter’s boat with Dego following.

‘It seems that we must ride further upriver after Gabrán, then,’ she sighed.

‘Why do you think the abbess was looking for him?’ asked Dego, as they reached the boat. ‘And now Mel? Are they all involved in this mystery?’

Fidelma shrugged. ‘Let us hope that we shall discover that.’ She found herself suddenly shivering. ‘Today is bitterly cold. I hope that Eadulf has found some shelter.’

Back in the boat, the woodcutter was reclining, wrapped in a woollen cloak, looking comfortable in spite of the chill.

‘I told you that Gabrán was not there,’ he grinned, reaching out a hand to steady Fidelma as she climbed into the boat, causing it to rock a little.

‘You did,’ she replied shortly.

He rowed them back across the river in silence.

On the north shore, Dego gave the man the coin he asked for and they rejoined Enda.

‘The Cág has gone upriver,’ Dego told him. ‘We shall ride after it.’

Enda’s features were gloomy.

‘I spoke to the woodcutter’s wife while you were across there,’ he offered. ‘The northern branch of the river is not navigable beyond twoor three kilometres from here, and the southern branch is not navigable beyond a kilometre or thereabouts.’

‘Well, that is good news,’ replied Fidelma, mounting her horse. ‘That means we shall catch up with the Cág sooner rather than later.’

‘The woodcutter’s wife also said that there was another warrior here,’ added Enda, ‘who left his horse …’

‘We know all about him; it was Mel,’ Dego interrupted, hauling himself up into the saddle.

‘Apparently he was with another man who waited for him on this shore while he went across the river.’

Fidelma waited patiently and then said with irritation, ‘well — are you going to share your knowledge, with us Enda?’

‘Yes, of course. It was the Brehon, the woman said. Bishop Forbassach.’

Eadulf had left his new-found friend Dalbach, and was climbing further up into the hills. The air was chill and a wind was whipping up from the south-east. He knew that bad weather was on its way. From his elevated position, he could see the dark shape of rainclouds gathering in the southern sky.

He was taking the track directly north which, Dalbach had advised him, would bring him into a valley at the eastern end of the northern mountains, somewhere beyond a peak where he could turn west and pick up the road to Fearna. In spite of his blindness, Dalbach seemed to recall the geography of his native land as well as any sighted man. Memories were seared into his mind. The countryside which Eadulf was travelling through was a desolate hilly landscape, and he was doubly grateful for Dalbach’s hospitality and his loan of warm clothing and boots to replace his worn woollen habit and sandals. He was also glad of the woollen hat which Dalbach had provided; it complemented his sheepskin cloak, and fitted snugly on his head with the flaps covering his ears. The wind across the hillside was like a knife cutting frequently through the sensitive parts of the flesh.

He strode head down along a track which seemed to vanish now and then. Several times he had to pause to ensure that he was following it at all. It was not a well-frequented path; that much he could discern. Only now and again did he raise his head in an attempt to peer into the cold wind but it was easier to walk with his eyes on the ground before him.It was during one of his brief glances ahead that he had cause to halt in surprise.

A man was standing a little way off on the path ahead of him.

‘Come on!’ the man shouted. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

Fidelma and her companions had been riding for an hour along the north riverbank when Dego pulled on his reins and pointed in excitement.

‘That must be the Cág! Look at that boat tied up by that jetty beyond those trees ahead.’

Fidelma’s eyes narrowed. Not far ahead was a small group of trees, and a large river boat was tied up against the adjacent wooden jetty. By the jetty a horse was tethered. Fidelma recognised it straight away.

‘That’s Abbess Fainder’s horse,’ she told her companions.

‘Then I presume that we have found Gabrán at last,’ Enda observed.

The three riders moved on at a slow walk and halted where the abbess’s horse stood quietly grazing. The wooden jetty was the only sign of any civilisation in the area. There seemed to be no houses or dwellings of any sort nearby. It was a curiously desolate spot.

From the Cág come no sound nor movement. Fidelma wondered where the crew were. She presumed that everyone was below and that no one had noticed their arrival. They tethered their horses and Fidelma led the way from the jetty onto the boat. It was a long, flat-bottomed vessel, used only for river navigation for it would be unstable and dangerous in open waters.

Fidelma paused on the deck; it seemed unnaturally quiet.

She made her way cautiously over to the main cabin, which was contained in the raised after portion of the vessel, with its door at deck level. She was about to knock when she heard a faint sound from within: she knew instinctively that something was wrong.

Glancing warningly at Dego and Enda, she put her hand to the catch and pushed it gently down before abruptly thrusting the door open.

Nothing had prepared her for the scene that was revealed within.

There was a great deal of blood in the gloomy cabin. The dark stains had leaked out from a body which lay sprawled on the floor. But it was the figure which was kneeling by the head of the body that shocked her. A figure with a bloodied knife in its hand.

The clothing indicated the identity of the corpse, even if Fidelma had not recognised the features twisted in a last moment of agonybefore death. It was Gabrán, the captain of the Cág. But the figure kneeling at his head, grasping the murder weapon, who now glanced up in frightened anguish towards her, was the Abbess of Fearna — Abbess Fainder.