The Haunted Abbot

Chapter Three

‘You have arrived just in time, Brother,’ intoned Brother Willibrod softly.

‘In time?’ muttered Eadulf distractedly as he gazed upon the body of his childhood friend. ‘How do you mean — in time?’

‘We shall bury the earthly remains of our dear brother at midnight, as is the custom of the abbey.’

‘Midnight!’

Eadulf twisted round and stared aghast at Brother Willibrod. The message that he had received from his friend had urged him to be at the abbey before midnight that day. Could Botulf had known …? Surely not?

‘You seem surprised, Brother Eadulf,’ Brother Willibrod said calmly as he returned Eadulf’s apprehensive stare. ‘I am told that it is the fashion in many lands to bury the dear departed at midnight. Why should you appear shocked?’

Eadulf tried to calm his racing thoughts. He turned quickly back to the body, not wishing to betray his emotions further until he could find some answers, and began to examine the wounds with a careful eye.

‘Botulf did not commit suicide, did he?’ The question came immediately to his mind as an answer to why Botulf had urged him to be at Aldred’s Abbey before midnight. He dismissed the idea even as he voiced it, however, for the wounds could never have been self-inflicted.

He was aware that, behind him, Brother Willibrod had quickly crossed himself.

‘Quod avertat Deus! God forbid, Brother. Why should you think something like that?’

‘When did this happen?’

‘Sometime this morning, so far as we can tell. His body was found in the small quadrangle at the back of the chapel, just by the entrance to the crypt. Poor Botulf. It was noticed that he wasmissing at early morning prayers and he was found soon after Matins was sung — at the seventh canonical hour.’

‘Just after daybreak, then?’

‘Just so, Brother Eadulf.’

‘Who found him?’

Brother Willibrod frowned suspiciously at the question.

‘Brother Osred. He is the smith of our community and he was crossing the small quadrangle to his forge to start his day’s work when he found the body.’

‘From the wounds, Botulf was attacked from behind. Has the attacker been discovered?’

‘You are asking many questions, Brother,’ the dominus replied, a distrustful tone now entering his voice. ‘When you asked to see Brother Botulf, I presumed that you had come to the abbey having already heard of his death. Yet you seem surprised. Now all these questions. Who are you?’

Eadulf was patient. ‘I have told you that I am Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, just arrived from Canterbury. Botulf …’ He hesitated. Perhaps he would do best not to reveal Botulf’s message. ‘Botulf was a friend of mine. We grew up together. I had not heard the news of his death until you showed me his body.’

Brother Willibrod considered this explanation for a moment and accepted it. He grimaced awkwardly.

‘Then I am sorry that I did not prepare you for this sadness. I had assumed …’ He ended with an embarrassed shrug.

‘I asked you if the attacker had been discovered,’ Eadulf pressed. The sharpness in his voice caused Brother Willibrod to frown.

‘That you knew Brother Botulf does not excuse the tenor of your questions,’ he snapped back spiritedly.

‘I was also hereditary gerefa of Seaxmund’s Ham.’ Eadulf’s voice was cutting. ‘I am a magistrate of the laws of Wuffa son of Wehha, first King of the East Anglians, who brought our people to this land from across the sea one hundred years ago.’

He did not mean to sound so proud and arrogant but he knew his words would have an effect on Brother Willibrod. Eadulf neglected to add that his office of gerefa was negated under the old laws of his people when he accepted the tonsure of thereligious and became a brother of the faith. Brother Willibrod did not question his statement. The dominus merely bowed his head.

‘Forgive my lack of knowledge and courtesy, Brother gerefa.’ His tone was more respectful.

Eadulf gave a gesture with his hand as if to dismiss the matter.

‘Tell me what you know. Who killed Botulf and why?’

‘Abbot Cild has taken the inquiry in hand. It appears that one of our brethren saw a notorious outlaw near the abbey not long after poor Brother Botulf was found. The abbot is certain that this thief broke into the abbey and was accosted by Brother Botulf. The thief slew poor Botulf and made good his escape.’

Eadulf’s eyes narrowed. ‘And nothing else is known other than that?’

‘Abbot Cild is the one to ask about the details.’

Eadulf was silent for a moment or two. Then he looked down at the body of his friend and sighed softly. He reached forward and touched Botulf’s cold hand.

‘I will discover the truth of this matter, Botulf,’ he said under his breath. ‘The culprit will be found.’ Then aloud he quoted from the Gospel of Luke: ‘Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine … Lord, now let thy servant depart …’

At the door of the chapel, he turned to Brother Willibrod.

‘I shall remove the grime of travel, and then Sister Fidelma and I will wish to see Abbot Cild.’

Brother Willibrod looked suddenly nervous. ‘I will see if Abbot Cild will receive you, but he will not meet with the woman.’

Eadulf’s brows came together threateningly. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I have told you that the abbot does not believe in mixed houses nor in married religious. I do not know if he will even approve of my admitting her into this abbey.’

A look of disdain crossed Eadulf’s features. ‘Then you had best ensure that the abbot knows of my authority both as gerefa and as an emissary of Archbishop Theodore. And my companion is sister to the King of Muman in the land of Éireann.’ He felt a twinge of guilt as he said this, as Fidelma had expressly asked him not to reveal her identity. Hostage taking for ransom wasnot an unknown practice. It was often better that one’s rank was not revealed. He dismissed his disquiet and went on sharply: ‘Your abbot would do well to reflect on whose enmity he wishes to earn.’

Brother Willibrod raised his eyebrows with an expression of resignation. ‘It shall be as you wish, Brother Eadulf, but the abbot is a man of strict faith and belief and not moved by threats … nor by other concerns,’ he added quickly to cover up his lack of diplomacy.

Eadulf’s lips thinned for a moment and then he said: ‘Very well. You may see if he will receive me before the ceremony of burial.’

‘I will come by the guests’ quarters shortly with the abbot’s answer. I will also send one of the brethren to tend to your wants and make up the fire.’

When Eadulf found his way back to the guests’ dormitory, Fidelma had washed but was sitting close to the log fire, her robes tightly wrapped around her, and she was shivering a little. She looked up as he entered.

‘I think I am developing a sore throat,’ she complained. ‘This cold has cut me to the bone.’

‘Botulf has been murdered,’ cut in Eadulf without preamble.

She stared at him for a moment as if not comprehending.

‘Do you mean that your friend, the one who sent you the message, is dead?’

‘He has been murdered,’ repeated Eadulf, ‘and the burial ceremony is due at midnight.’

‘Midnight?’ echoed Fidelma. She frowned. ‘He asked you to be here before midnight. Do you think …?’

‘He was murdered sometime before dawn today,’ Eadulf told her. ‘How could he have known there would be any significance about midnight tonight?’

‘Perhaps there was another significance?’

‘I do not understand.’

‘It is not a matter of understanding but of first trying to discover the facts.’ Fidelma suddenly sneezed. ‘This fire is not even beginning to thaw the chill in my marrow.’

There came a knock at the door and a young religious entered. He was only a boy, scarcely out of childhood, fair of hair and skin,with blue eyes and blood-red lips. He seemed shy and nervous. He carried a tray with a steaming jug on it and two clay beakers. He kept his eyes lowered and did not look at Fidelma.

‘I have been asked to bring you some warming broth.’ He addressed himself to Eadulf, having glanced nervously at him before dropping his eyes again. ‘I am then to light the fire in the next room for you, Brother.’

Eadulf took the tray from the boy’s trembling hands and placed it on a nearby table.

‘Thank you.’ Fidelma smiled at him. ‘What is your name?’

‘I am Bother Redwald, Sister.’ The boy’s manner showed that he was clearly apprehensive at being addressed directly by her.

‘You have no need to be nervous,’ Fidelma assured him.

‘The abbot …’ began the boy. Then he shut his lips firmly.

‘We have heard that the abbot does not welcome women into this abbey,’ Fidelma replied solemnly. ‘Do not worry, you shall not get into trouble for doing your job.’

The boy nodded quickly. ‘Then I shall be about that work, Sister.’

The boy was already moving out of the door when Eadulf stayed him with a sharp question.

‘Did you know Brother Botulf?’

The boy turned back quickly. There was a look almost of fear on his features and for a moment he stared directly at Eadulf before dropping his gaze once more.

‘Everyone knew Brother Botulf. He was the steward of the abbey and had been here when it was founded. He was a companion of the blessed Aldred whose body lies beneath the high altar in the chapel. Our abbey is named after him.’

‘Did you know Brother Botulf well?’

‘Brother Botulf was kind to me.’

‘Isn’t everyone kind to you here?’ asked Fidelma softly.

Brother Redwald sniffed but did not look at her or respond.

‘Do you know what happened to Brother Botulf? I mean, how he was killed?’ Eadulf pressed.

The boy shook his head without meeting Eadulf’s eyes. ‘His body was found this morning. They say someone broke into the abbey to steal from the chapel and was discovered by Brother Botulf. The thief killed him.’

‘What was stolen?’ inquired Fidelma.

‘Nothing was stolen. I heard Brother Willibrod say that Brother Botulf must have prevented the theft and the murderer fled empty-handed.’

‘From the fortress-like appearance of this abbey, it would seem a difficult place to break into,’ observed Eadulf. ‘Have you heard who this thief was?’

The boy grimaced as if to disclaim responsibility. ‘They say that it was one of a band of outlaws who dwell in the marshes. They have no love for the religious. I heard that Abbot Cild was blaming the death of Brother Botulf on their leader and said that he would punish him.’

‘Who is their leader?’ asked Eadulf.

‘Aldhere is his name. Now let me be about my work, please, Brother.’

The boy left the room hurriedly. They could hear him stacking the firewood in the next room.

Fidelma sneezed twice.

‘Pass me that hot drink, Eadulf,’ she asked mildly. ‘Perhaps it will give me some warmth.’

‘There is something wrong here,’ Eadulf said reflectively, handing her the beaker. ‘There is a curious atmosphere in this abbey which I do not like. Something very oppressive. Do you not feel it?’

Fidelma smiled thinly. ‘I would agree with you in that the death of your friend is oppressive enough.’

‘I do not mean that. I grieve for him, but my grief must give way to resolving the manner of his death.’

Fidelma sipped her broth while examining him with some concern. ‘What else can it be but a coincidence that he had asked you to be here before midnight?’

‘Before midnight,’ repeated Eadulf with emphasis, ‘and I then find that this is the hour in which his body is to be laid to rest. A coincidence? Why did he want me to be here at that specific hour?’

‘A few discreet inquiries might tell us something,’ observed Fidelma.

Eadulf did not appear enthusiastic. ‘Much depends upon the abbot of this place as to whether I will be allowed to make thoseinquiries. If Brother Willibrod’s word is anything to go by, I do not think that we shall be invited to stay long.’

Fidelma sneezed again.

‘I hope that I am not going to suffer a cold from the excesses of our journey,’ she muttered. Then she added: ‘Abbot Cild seems to have little charity in his heart if Brother Willibrod presents a true picture of the man. Have you planned your further intentions if we are told to leave here?’

Eadulf shook his head. ‘We can only go on to Seaxmund’s Ham, for there is nowhere nearer to stay.’

‘Well, in truth, I shan’t be sorry to leave this place, Eadulf. I not only have a chill in my body but I have rarely encountered a place which strikes such a chill in my soul.’

At that moment there was a rap on the door and it opened to allow the one-eyed Brother Willibrod to enter. He looked fidgety and concerned.

‘Abbot Cild will see you immediately, Brother Eadulf. Will you come with me?’

Eadulf glanced apologetically to Fidelma. She did not even look at him but sat hunched by the fire nursing the hot drink in both hands.

Eadulf followed Brother Willibrod through the dark brick-built corridors of the abbey until the dominus halted before a heavy oak door and knocked upon it in a discreet manner. A voice barked an order from inside and Brother Willibrod threw open the door, stood aside and motioned Eadulf to enter. When he did so, the door was closed silently behind him with Brother Willibrod waiting outside.

The abbot sat at the far end of a long oak table on which two ornate candlesticks bore tallow candles which fluttered and hissed, sending out a curious light in the darkness of the chamber. He gave the impression of a tall man, seated upright in a carved oak chair, his hands placed palm downwards on the table as he gazed before him with dark eyes.

The abbot’s face was long, pale of skin and with sharp, etched features. The forehead was high-domed and surrounded by long, dark hair. It was a face filled with a strength of purpose that Eadulf found unusual in a religious, although such features were often found in warriors. His nose was thin and had a high bridgeand strangely arched nostrils. The dark eyes seemed to reflect the light of the flickering candles, causing them to glow with some red aura. The effect was threatening. The thin mouth was fixed and cruel.

‘I am told that you are an emissary from Theodore, the new archbishop of Canterbury, that you are also hereditary gerefa of Seaxmund’s Ham.’

‘I am Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham.’

‘This does not allow you to maintain special privileges. At least not in my abbey. You do not appear to have informed Brother Willibrod that your rank of gerefa was lost the moment you took your vows as a religieux.’

‘Perhaps Brother Willibrod assumed too much. I did use the word “was”,’ Eadulf replied spiritedly. ‘As for special privileges? I do not understand.’

‘To bring a woman into this abbey. To persuade my dominus to defy my cardinal rule. We are a closed house to womenkind.’ The abbot’s voice was sharp.

Eadulf coloured hotly. ‘My travelling companion is Fidelma of Cashel, sister to the King of Muman and a famed lawyer in her own land.’

‘She is not in her own land and this is my abbey where I set the rules.’

‘If you glance through the window you will see that the weather makes it impossible for anyone to continue on a journey this night,’ Eadulf snapped back.

The abbot was not put out by Eadulf’s attitude.

‘You should not have attempted any journey in the first place without being assured of a welcome,’ he replied with equal firmness.

‘Forgive me. I thought that in coming to a Christian house I would find Christian charity,’ Eadulf replied sarcastically. ‘This is my own country, my own people, and the steward of this abbey was a friend with whom I had grown up. I did not expect to find a Christian house that displays an inflexible, uncompassionate and mean-spirited rule.’

The abbot regarded him without any change of expression. He did not respond to the insult.

‘You have been away some time, I am told. You will findmany things changed in this land. This abbey, for example, is now under my rule, mutatis mutandis.’

‘Things having been changed that had to be changed?’ Eadulf turned the Latin saying into a question. ‘So compassion had to be excluded from this place?’

The abbot ignored the interjection. ‘I will show Christ’s generosity this night. But tomorrow morning, after Matins, you and the woman will leave this place. In the meantime, she must not move from the chamber in which she has been placed. You, Brother Eadulf, may attend services in our chapel.’

Eadulf swallowed angrily. ‘I must protest that-’

‘The woman will not be allowed to stay longer and set my rules at naught. Now, I demand to know what business brings you here. Do you have messages from Archbishop Theodore for me?’

Eadulf ground his teeth to control his anger.

‘Not for you. No,’ he replied with malicious sharpness.

The imperturbable features of the abbot did not flicker. However, his voice rose sharply again.

‘Then why did you come here? You gave my dominus to believe-’

‘I gave him to believe nothing. I merely told him who I was. I came to see my friend, Brother Botulf.’

For the first time the abbot’s eyes widened slightly. ‘And that is all?’

‘Should there be anything else?’

There was a pause. Eadulf noticed a tiny pulse throbbing in the abbot’s temple. He wondered at the man’s state of nerves.

‘Are you saying that you brought a message from Canterbury to my steward? Is that the reason why you have come here?’

‘I have nothing further to tell you,’ replied Eadulf, feeling irritated by the interrogation.

‘I have been told that you have seen the body of Brother Botulf. If that is all, you may leave tomorrow morning with your purpose achieved.’

‘My purpose achieved?’ For a moment Eadulf found himself speechless. Then he fought to control himself again. Truly, this man was insufferable. Eadulf’s voice became tinged with an icy hardness. ‘My purpose now is to find out who killed my friend and to ensure that the culprit is brought to justice.’

Abbot Cild’s eyelids lowered slowly, paused, and then rose. It reminded Eadulf of a hawk hooding its eyes before a kill. A faint smile now seemed to hover on those thin lips. It was, the thought came to Eadulf, like moonlight glinting on a tombstone. There was no feeling in the abbot’s voice other than that tone which implied a sinister threat. Eadulf shivered slightly as the hairs tingled for a moment on the nape of his neck.

‘I can tell you that the outlaw Aldhere, a marsh dweller, is to blame. And tomorrow at midday I shall take some of our brethren and go into the marshes and hunt him down like the dog that he is. If we catch him then we shall hang him. Now your purpose is achieved and you will quit this abbey as I have requested. I hope that I have made myself clear, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham?’ Abbot Cild rose leisurely in one smooth movement, reminding Eadulf of the way he had seen a snake uncoil itself after basking in the sun.

‘Is there to be a trial of this man Aldhere?’ he ventured, trying to quell the feeling of dread which the abbot seemed to have no trouble in conjuring in him.

‘A trial? What need is there for a trial? Aldhere is a murderer. Trials are not for such as him.’

‘What was the motive and where is the evidence?’ demanded Eadulf, determined not to be put off.

‘The motive is theft and the evidence is that Aldhere was seen leaving the abbey shortly after the body of Botulf was discovered.’

‘Who saw Aldhere?’

Abbot Cild let out a hiss of annoyance. ‘You try my patience too far, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. Now be gone. I have a burial to prepare for.’

He waved his hand in dismissal and Eadulf, in spite of protests, found himself standing outside the abbot’s door, so forceful a personality was Cild’s.

Brother Willibrod awaited him.

‘I presume that you will attend the funeral ceremony?’ he asked.

Eadulf nodded moodily.

‘Is it clearly understood that the foreign woman will not beallowed to attend services in this abbey?’ added the dominus. ‘I have strict instructions from the abbot.’

Eadulf, still angered by his meeting with Abbot Cild, did not respond to the question.

‘What is the evidence against this outlaw, Aldhere?’ he demanded. ‘He was seen near the abbey but what ties him to the death of Botulf?’

Brother Willibrod took a moment to adjust to the change of subject and then shrugged.

‘Do you doubt Abbot Cild’s word that he was seen?’

‘So far, I have heard nothing to make me accept or reject Abbot Cild’s word. I have no doubt that he means to hang this man, Aldhere. However, before a man’s life is forfeit it is customary to demand evidence. The abbot tells me that the motive was theft, yet I understand nothing was taken. I am told that someone saw Aldhere leaving the abbey but not who it was. Was it this Brother Osred? The one you told me discovered Botulf’s body?’

Brother Willibrod smiled grimly. ‘You have been away among strangers too long, Brother. You have forgotten that here we live among animals. Kill or be killed. If a man covets another’s land or his wife, and he is strong, then he will take what he wants. The weak will always lose.’

‘The faith has reformed our pagan ways,’ protested Eadulf.

‘Only if we have allowed it to. For some, it is impossible to change. Naturam expelles furca tamen usque recurret.’

‘You may drive nature out with a pitchfork, but it will still return,’ translated Eadulf, showing that he had understood.

‘Our faith may alter but not our ways.’

‘You are supposed to follow the way of Christ.’

‘Only if we live long enough to do so. Those without the law, such as Aldhere, would not have this abbey survive. He is a mad dog.’

‘So the dog has a bad name and thus he will be hanged? His guilt or innocence is of no consequence?’

‘If he is not guilty of this act then he is guilty of some other. What difference does it make?’

Eadulf was concerned that his friend’s killer should be found and punished, but any suspect should be tried under law. Eadulfvowed to himself that if the Abbot did indeed lead a hunting party into the marshes the next day, he would accompany them to see that justice was done. Justice, not blind vengeance.

‘And so by such logic we reach paradise?’ he protested sharply.

‘Come, dominus, I would like to see the person who appears to be the only witness in the case of Brother Botulf’s murder. This is a matter far too grave to be judged by prejudice. A mistake will reflect ill on this abbey and on anyone who has a hand in any event which may lead to a miscarriage of justice.’

Brother Willibrod still hesitated a moment before finally relenting.

‘Brother Wigstan was the person who saw Aldhere. He will be at the funeral service tonight. Will you be able to find your way back to the guests’ quarters from here?’

Eadulf nodded and Brother Willibrod turned abruptly and left at his usual rapid pace.

When Eadulf returned to the guests’ quarters he went immediately to Fidelma’s room and found her in the middle of a coughing fit. He brought her some water. She peered up with reddened eyes.

‘Oh, for a good Irish sweat bath,’ she muttered. ‘A sore throat, sneezing and a cough … all because of this awful climate. I have never known weather so cold anywhere.’

‘It is because the country is low lying,’ offered Eadulf in explanation. ‘There is nothing to protect us from the cold northerly winds from the sea. No tall hills nor mountains shield us.’

‘So the result is that I have to suffer a cold.’

Eadulf had studied medicine at the great Irish medical school of Tuaim Brecáin and was already searching one of his bags.

‘We have a fire and thus a means of heating water, and while we have these things all is not lost.’ He smiled confidently. ‘I will prepare an infusion of elderflowers and woodbine and stir in a little of the honey that I carry. You will soon be well.’

As he set to preparing his mixture, Eadulf told her of his meeting with Abbot Cild. Fidelma listened attentively, asking one or two questions to clarify points.

‘It seems that he is exactly as Brother Willibrod painted him,’ she murmured at the end of his recital.

‘He brings shame on the faith.’

‘He brings shame only on himself,’ replied Fidelma. ‘A man of such shabby arrogance brings derision only on himself, not on the faith. Let us hope I will be well enough to travel tomorrow morning. But as for tonight, I intend to retire. I am sorry that I shall miss the funeral of your friend, Eadulf.’

Eadulf shrugged. He did not bother to inform her that she would not have been allowed into the chapel in any case.

‘You cannot help Botulf. It is now more important that you recover your health. I have prepared enough of this infusion for you to sip through the night. Do not swallow it in large draughts, only small sips. Remember that.’ With a preoccupied smile, he turned for the door.

‘I’ll remember,’ Fidelma called after him. ‘And be circumspect with your questions, Eadulf. It seems an easy thing to cause annoyance to the brethren of this place.’

Eadulf left the guests’ hostel as a distant bell began to toll the Angelus. He increased his pace along the dark stone-flagged corridor, trying to remember the route to the chapel. It was icy cold and through the arches that gave onto the quadrangle he could see that the snow was still slanting downward from the black night sky. Making his way through a series of covered ways he came to a smaller quadrangle, encompassed by a covered walkway. On the side that Eadulf was proceeding along, a door at the end was illuminated by a storm lantern. He could see a similar lantern lighting another door on the far side. The snow lay thick where the quadrangle was open to the elements. He realised that this was the small area at the back of the chapel where poor Brother Botulf’s body had been found. He paused. One of the doors must lead to the crypt.

He was standing by one of the pillars, trying to reason how best to get to the other side of the chapel where the main doors were, when he noticed a movement on the far side of the quadrangle, among the shadows of the covered walkway. A slim figure in a long cloak moved from a darkened recess and strode swiftly, silently, along it. He watched the progress of the figure, frowning. There was something incongruous about it, given the surroundings. The figure paused just by the door with the lantern, hesitated and cast a quick glance around, as if to ensure that it was not being observed. Eadulf’s eyes widened a fraction.

The shadowy light revealed the face of a young woman. Even from across the quadrangle, Eadulf had the impression of ethereal beauty, of pale skin — was it too pale? It might have been a trick of the light — and fair hair. The figure was not clad as a religieuse but in some rich, crimson gown and there was evidence of silver jewellery and glittering gemstones.

Then, quickly, silently, the figure vanished through the door.

Eadulf stood for a moment or two wondering who the young woman was and what she was doing in an abbey which he was assured was the preserve only of men pledged to a life of celibacy under the faith. No women were supposed to be allowed within these walls.

When Eadulf reached the chapel, the abbot had already begun the service for the soul of Brother Botulf. He was intoning the blessing and Eadulf was forced to put his questions to one side.

‘May the blessing of light be on you, light without and light within …’

There were some thirty or more brethren gathered in the chapel. Eadulf took his seat on a bench at the back, not wishing to make himself conspicuous among the assembly.

He glanced around. Most of the congregation were young. They seemed to be sturdy men. Several had features that were harsh and would not be out of place in a battle host, seeming more suited to swords and shields rather than a crucifix and a phial of holy water.

They followed the prayers with a song. Eadulf did not know it and so did not join in.

Abbot Cild then came forward and had just started an adulatory soliloquy when the two great wooden doors of the chapel opened with a crash.

Eadulf, along with the rest of the congregation of brethren, swung round startled.

A tall man stood framed in the doorway, feet wide apart, a naked sword in one hand, his shield ready on the other arm in a defensive position. That he was a warrior was easy to see but who or what manner of warrior was more difficult to recognise. He wore a burnished helmet on which was fashioned the head and wings of a goose. The goose had its beak open in a warning; its neck was curved and low while its wingswere swept back on either side of the helmet. It was a truly frightening image. Eadulf vaguely recalled hearing that in some cultures the goose was an emblem of battle. It seemed so now, for below this helmet was a faceguard and only the bright eyes of the warrior glinted in the candlelight from the chapel, emanating a threatening malignancy.

A long black fur cloak hid the body, although Eadulf saw the glint of a breastplate underneath. The arm that held the menacing sword was muscular. For several long seconds there was absolute silence in the chapel. Then the man spoke, or rather his voice was raised so that it reverberated throughout the building. His Saxon was stilted and accented.

‘Know me, Cild, abbot of Aldred’s Abbey. Look upon me and know me.’