The Haunted Abbot

Chapter Seventeen

‘Wait!’

The old man spoke quietly, almost under his breath, but the word halted Abbot Cild and his companions. The abbot turned in protest to him.

‘Lord Sigeric, they are foreigners who have come to our land spreading witchcraft and evil …’

Eadulf took a step forward.

‘That is a lie. I am Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, one time gerefa of that place …’

‘Silence!’ roared Abbot Cild. ‘How dare you address the high steward without permission?’

The old man examined Eadulf with bright grey eyes.

‘And you are now a Christian?’ He smiled thinly. ‘Who is it that you travel with?’ His eyes turned to Fidelma. ‘She has the appearance of one of the Irish missionaries who have turned this land away from its old gods. Irish missionaries that King Ealdwulf has ordered to quit the kingdom.’

‘It is true that Sister Fidelma is of the kingdom of Muman in the land of Eireann. Her brother reigns as King of that distant land. But she is no missionary here but a reputed advocate of the Irish laws.’

Sigeric sighed gently.

‘I have heard of the kingdom of Muman. I have learnt much of that country from missionaries who have come to our land. Why did you sneak up on me like assassins? Is that what you are? Did you plan to kill me?’

Abbot Cild moved a step forward. His voice was loud and eager.

‘Lord Sigeric, they clearly meant you harm, or they would not have come creeping up on you-’

‘It is not so!’ interrupted Eadulf. ‘We needed to speak with you-’

Abbot Cild had nodded to Brother Beornwulf who took a step to Eadulf and, without warning, slapped him hard across the mouth, sending him staggering back against Fidelma. He lost his footing and stumbled to the ground. Blood appeared from his mouth. Fidelma bent to help him back on his feet.

‘These are the evil pair that I warned you about, lord Sigeric,’ Abbot Cild continued in his rage. ‘The woman who conjures spirits. They escaped from my justice a few days ago. Search them and they will have weapons on them. They meant to kill you. I have no doubt about it.’

Sigeric’s face, however, wore an expression of disapproval.

‘You have no doubt? Well, perhaps I should be the best judge of their intentions, Cild. There is no need to ill-treat them. The laws of the Wuffingas say that each is allowed to speak in their defence. Would you deny the law?’

‘My lord Sigeric, I say-’

‘I will deal with this matter,’ he said sharply. ‘Now, Cild, you may take your people and leave this to me.’

The abbot hesitated a moment more. His features were still inflamed and for a moment it seemed that he would argue with Sigeric. Then he turned, still angry, and left without another word. He was followed by Brother Willibrod and the mute Brother Beornwulf.

Fidelma was still dabbing at Eadulf’s bloodied mouth with a cloth which she had damped from a jug of water. She turned to Sigeric.

‘I thank you for your intervention.’

Sigeric sat back and there was no humour in his face.

‘You may soon have no cause to thank me, Sister Fidelma. I am merciless to those who transgress our laws be they high born or low born, native or foreign.’

‘Yet I have heard that you are a judge of sound qualities who seeks truth and justice for all, be they high born or low born, native or foreign,’ replied Fidelma with a faint smile.

‘And I am not susceptible to flattery, especially from a pretty woman,’ snapped Sigeric. He turned to Eadulf. ‘Well, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham — are you able to answer my questions?’

Eadulf took the cloth from Fidelma’s hands and straightenedup before the high steward of the King of the East Angles. He dabbed gently at his still bloodied mouth.

‘I can only tell you the truth as I know it, lord Sigeric.’

‘That is all anyone can do,’ agreed Sigeric gravely. He sat back in his chair, his hands before him, fingertips pressing fingertips, and gazed from one to the other. ‘What purpose brought you hither?’

‘To appeal to you,’ replied Eadulf. ‘You are our only hope in our search for the truth in this place.’

‘I have heard strange stories about you from Abbot Cild,’ replied Sigeric. ‘I have heard that you both forced your way into this abbey, and from that moment many evil portents appeared. The abbot says that the Irish woman conjured a spirit to haunt him. That when he charged her with witchcraft you both fled from the abbey, escaping his custody. Now you suddenly appear from I know not where and sneak into my chamber. Your purpose — according to the abbot — is to kill me. You deny it. Very well. What have you to say?’ ‘It is not true,’ replied Eadulf simply.

Sigeric sighed and nodded slowly.

‘Of course it is not true.’ He smiled thinly, sarcastically. ‘No charge is ever true according to the person being charged. However, you must convince me that it is not so.’

‘Let me explain,’ began Fidelma, but Sigeric held up a hand.

‘I am told that in your culture, Sister Fidelma, women have equal rights to be heard with men. That is not so among our people. I will listen only to Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham.’ He turned to Eadulf, who had flushed nervously at the expression on Fidelma’s face.

‘Lord Sigeric,’ he began hesitantly, ‘as I have said, Sister Fidelma is a learned judge in her own land. She has been asked by King Oswy of Northumberland to act in a legal capacity at Whitby and, indeed, by the Holy Father when she was in Rome …’

Sigeric shook his head. ‘I do not doubt your good intentions, Eadulf, but those are foreign places. We are here in the kingdom of the East Angles and should I not follow our laws and customs? Let me remind you that those laws are the laws of the Wuffingas. Come, spare my impatience and let us proceed. Do you deny the charges of Abbot Cild?’

‘We do,’ Eadulf said with emphasis. ‘There was evil in this abbey before we arrived.’

‘Evil? Much power in that word “evil”. Yet it is the individual who interprets what evil is and that interpretation varies from individual to individual,’ Sigeric replied. ‘Perhaps it is better to proceed with the story of how you came to this place, what you found and how matters unfolded.’

‘It began, lord Sigeric, when Sister Fidelma and I were in Canterbury. I was emissary of the Archbishop Theodore and had been on my embassy to King Colgu of Cashel, who is the brother of Sister Fidelma.’

Sigeric nodded slowly.

‘So you move in illustrious circles, Eadulf?’ he said in a dismissive tone. ‘And so?’

‘I was not meaning to impress you, lord Sigeric. It is a fact that I was at Canterbury and while there received a message from my old fried Brother Botulf, who was steward at this abbey.’

The name seemed to have an impact on the old man.

‘Botulf? Botulf of Seaxmund …? Of course you would know him. He was your friend? I knew him also for he tried to protect a coward who was outlawed. Botulf was sent to this abbey as a punishment.’

‘So I have heard. But he was a moral man. When I was at Canterbury, I received a message requesting that I come to this abbey by a certain hour on a certain day as it was important. I did so, and Sister Fidelma accompanied me.’

Slowly, step by step, Eadulf began to trace the events of the last few days.

Sigeric sat quietly. He did not intervene further but sat, head bowed, nodding as if he were asleep.

When Eadulf finished, he glanced quickly at Fidelma, who smiled her approval at his recital. He had not left out any significant point.

Sigeric was drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.

‘You make claims that appear incredible and yet you present me with no solutions.’

‘If Sister Fidelma were allowed to conduct-’

Sigeric interrupted with a sniff of disdain.

‘I have told you of my decision on the matter of keeping to our customs. I do not like words like “if”, either.’

Eadulf was outraged. ‘Your reputation is great, lord Sigeric, but how can you justify shutting your ears to the truth simply because it comes from the mouth of a woman?’

‘You are impertinent, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham.’ The high steward glowered. ‘Perhaps you have dwelt too long among foreigners to recall your own cultural values?’

‘The values that concern me are beyond cultures. They are intrinsic to all peoples,’ snapped Eadulf, causing Fidelma to look at him in surprise. She had hardly seen him so angry before.

Sigeric’s bodyguards moved uneasily forward but the old man motioned them back.

‘Your concern to speak up for your companion is laudable, Eadulf …’

‘My concern is to speak up for truth and justice,’ replied Eadulf sharply.

‘Whatever the purpose, there is a way of proceeding. In the first place, I need to put your version of the events to those who are concerned with them. You will be held until such time as I have done so.’

‘Held?’ demanded Eadulf, anger once more flushing his features.

This time Sigeric did not stop the two warriors moving forward and interposing themselves between Fidelma and Eadulf.

‘No harm will come to either of you — neither from Abbot Cild nor anyone else. You have nothing to fear from that quarter until such time as I decide whether you are telling the truth or whether there is some other motive behind your actions.’

He reached forward and picked up a silver handbell from the table and rang it.

Almost at once the one-eyed Brother Willibrod came hurrying in.

‘Does this abbey possess some secure chambers?’ Sigeric demanded.

‘Secure chambers?’ The dominus’s eyes widened a little.

‘That is what I asked,’ Sigeric said patiently. ‘I want this man and woman placed in a chamber under lock and key and held there until I say otherwise. They are to be treated well and not to beharmed. Anyone who transgresses that order will be answerable directly to me. Now, a secure chamber … and one which has no secret tunnels by which they may escape.’

‘There is a chamber close to this one,’ Brother Willibrod reflected. ‘There is one door and a small window in it but the window is barred.’

‘And you are sure that there are no passageways behind tapestries or moving masonry?’ Sigeric demanded sarcastically. ‘After all, you did not seem aware of the tunnel that leads into this room.’

Brother Willibrod spread his hands helplessly.

‘This is an old building, my lord, built on an ancient Welisc fortress …’

‘I do not want a history lesson, just an assurance that there is no exit apart from the one door which my men will guard.’

‘I will swear an oath on it,’ stuttered Brother Willibrod.

‘Good,’ replied the old man. His voice held a malicious quality. ‘No one from this abbey, not even the abbot, will be permitted to see them. Werferth,’ he turned to one of the two warriors, who was obviously the commander of his guards, ‘you have heard my orders? Admit no one to their presence.’

‘It shall be done, lord …’ replied the warrior called Werferth, ‘but what of food and drink?’

Sigeric considered the question with seriousness.

‘I would not deny them that. You will see to that, Willibrod. Meals will be handed to Werferth here who will then see that they are fed. Now, let it be done.’

Eadulf moved to protest.

‘This will not solve the matter, lord Sigeric,’ he stated coldly. He was now in control of his temper. ‘Nor will imprisoning us prevent the effusion of blood that is coming because of this troscud which will, as I have explained, by its nature, plunge the kingdoms into war.’

The lord Sigeric rose, hands on hips.

‘I am too old a dog to be taught new tricks, Eadulf. I will do things my way and that is the way of the Wuffingas. I have heard all that you have had to say. Now I shall consider it and form my judgments.’ He signalled their dismissal.

His men pushed Fidelma and Eadulf outside, although it wasnot done roughly. Brother Willibrod preceded them to show them to the chamber that he had selected as their prison.

When the door slammed behind them they stood examining the tiny room into which they had been pushed. It was no more than two paces wide by three paces in depth and only just large enough to stand up in. At one end was a small barred window which looked out to nothing but sky. A bed and a stool comprised the only pieces of furniture. It was freezing cold.

‘Well,’ sighed Eadulf as he slumped to the stool, ‘that effort was of little use to anyone.’ His tone was bitter.

Fidelma was not one to spend much time lamenting on ill fortune. She went directly to the window and stared out.

‘Time has passed swiftly,’ she muttered. ‘Mul must have given us up long ago. I see the dusk already coming down.’

‘My stomach has already told me it is late,’ complained Eadulf.

Fidelma turned back and examined the tiny chamber.

‘I presume that this was once the cell of a brother. There is hardly room for two and that bed is very narrow.’ She bent down and peered under it and uttered an expression of disgust. ‘I hope we are not incarcerated in here long.’

Eadulf watched her mournfully.

‘Sigeric was our only chance,’ he said angrily, ‘and he wouldn’t even listen to you. Blind prejudice, I shall call it.’

To his surprise, Fidelma shook her head.

‘He acted according to his conscience. You cannot argue that he could do more,’ she replied. She was not upset.

‘You surely can’t say that you support his actions?’ Eadulf was aghast at her apparent passivity.

‘Put yourself in his place, Eadulf. What would you have done differently?’

‘I cannot put myself in his place. I am not Sigeric.’

‘Exactly. Nor is Sigeric you. He acts according to what he knows.’

‘Then just how are we to get out of this place now? Abbot Cild is not going to allow us to escape a second time. He is already baying for our blood.’

She sat down on the bed. ‘At least Sigeric seems sceptical abouthis charge of witchcraft,’ she pointed out as she relaxed. Then she started forward and exclaimed: ‘Oh!’

Eadulf flinched nervously and glanced round.

‘What is it?’ he demanded.

‘I should tell someone where we left the ponies. It will be a cold night and they might freeze.’

Eadulf sighed. It was so like Fidelma to think of the welfare of animals even in this predicament.

She stood up and glanced around again.

‘Well, I do not think we will be escaping from here before Sigeric is ready to allow us out, so there is no need to have the ponies hidden ready, and by morning, well …’

She went to the door and called for the guards.

The bolts scraped and the tall warrior, Werferth, stood framed in the door, sword in hand.

‘Speak, woman,’ he snapped.

Fidelma returned his bleak look with a smile and told him where their ponies were tethered.

‘Send someone to bring them into the abbey for warmth and fodder,’ she instructed. ‘Otherwise they will freeze outside during the night.’

The warrior stared at her in surprise, possibly sharing Eadulf’s astonishment that she could think of the welfare of ponies at a time like this.

‘It shall be done, woman,’ Werferth said finally. ‘Is that all?’

‘It is all, except my friend here would welcome something to stay his hunger.’

‘Food will be brought to you soon,’ Werferth replied brusquely and closed the door. They heard the bolts rasping shut.

Fidelma returned and sat down on the bed again.

The time dragged and finally a meal was brought to them by Werferth. He was dour and professional, and there was no chance of opening any conversation with him. His companion stood at the door with drawn sword while he placed the tray on the stool before them. Then he exited without a word.

They ate in silence.

It was as they were finishing that they heard the sound of distant shouting. Then silence.

‘What do you think that was?’ asked Eadulf.

Fidelma shook her head. She did not reply. Quiet descended. Time passed. Finally, realising that they would probably be incarcerated overnight, they squeezed together on the narrow bed and tried to sleep.

They had been dozing. Neither of them was certain whether it was before or after midnight. The darkness had been a long time in their cell and there was no means of alleviating its shroud for they had neither candle nor oil lamp. They had made themselves as comfortable as they could on the bed and, in this manner, a fitful slumber had eventually overtaken them.

It was the rasping of bolts and the snap of commands which startled them into wakefulness and gave them a bare few seconds’ warning before the door crashed in.

Eadulf rolled from the bed first, blinking and trying to focus.

Werferth and his companion stood inside the door with drawn swords.

A moment later, Sigeric entered with a lamp held in his hand. His face was pale and he looked shocked.

He waited while Fidelma roused herself and stood, blearyeyed, trying to gather her wits.

‘What is the matter?’ Eadulf demanded, having recovered first.

Sigeric regarded him with his bright grey eyes for a moment and then said: ‘Come with me. Both of you.’ He turned abruptly.

Outside, the two warriors closed in behind Fidelma and Eadulf.

Eadulf instinctively reached for Fidelma’s hand, found it and held it tight.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ he whispered. ‘If they mean to kill us, we will show that we care little for their pleasure in it.’

Fidelma’s jaw tightened at his words but she said nothing.

Sigeric, his lamp held high, marched swiftly down the corridors of the abbey — surprisingly swiftly for one of his advancing years.

He went directly towards the chapel of the abbey, through the cloisters and quadrangle, and entered through the main doors.

Groups of brethren were gathered in little knots here and there in the chapel. They turned as Sigeric came in. Fidelma and Eadulf noticed that, in the candlelight, their faces were frightened as theywatched while the old man led his charges through their group towards the high altar.

Fidelma and Eadulf moved closer together, an instinctive form of self-protection, hands held even tighter. Was this to be some midnight trial at which they were already condemned?

As they grew nearer the altar, Eadulf caught sight of Brother Willibrod collapsed in a seat nearby. His shoulders were shaking uncontrollably and, to his surprise, Eadulf saw that the dominus was sobbing in an inconsolable manner. Eadulf exchanged an astonished glance with Fidelma. Sigeric took no notice of the dominus. He guided them towards another small group before the high altar.

Fidelma and Eadulf were aware of Brother Higbald bending over something which lay near the altar. Brother Beornwulf was also there, standing behind him with a scowl on his features.

To one side yet another figure sat surrounded by some of the brethren. One of Sigeric’s warriors stood nearby. As they approached, those around the figure parted slightly as they turned towards them. The figure seated in their midst was revealed as Abbot Cild.

Sigeric halted before him. Fidelma and Eadulf drew up at his shoulder.

Abbot Cild looked up at them. His usually grim face was wreathed in an inane smile. In fact, he was giggling like a child. Eadulf had never seen anything so alarming to the senses. It was a frightening, unpleasant sight, to see the strange, vacuous expression on the abbot’s face.

They became aware that blood saturated the abbot’s clothing; literally saturated it. Blood stained his hands which he held before him, twisting and wringing them together.

The abbot’s eyes were vacant and, while he seemed aware of their presence as they stood before him, he did not appear to see them as individuals. He knew that they were there and he smiled up at them.

‘I am free.’ The words came out in between the giggles. ‘I have rid myself of the ghost that has haunted me.’

Eadulf looked towards Sigeric but the old man was impassive.

‘The demon, the wraith, that was conjured up to persecute me,’the abbot was continuing. ‘I have destroyed it. Destroyed it. So easy. I am free.’

Eadulf was aware that Brother Redwald was one of the religious standing around the abbot. He looked towards the shocked face of the boy. Redwald met his gaze. His face was deathly white and his lip was trembling as his eyes went to where Brother Higbald was bending down. Both Eadulf and Fidelma turned and stared at what lay on the floor there. It was a slim body. The body of a girl with red-gold hair.

‘It is Gélgeis.’ Brother Redwald’s hysterical cry suddenly resounded through the chapel. ‘She is dead. Yet she was dead before. But now she is dead again. The abbot has killed the ghost of Gélgeis!’