Our Lady of Darkness (24 page)

Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Medieval Ireland

BOOK: Our Lady of Darkness

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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 agony
before 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.

Chapter Sixteen

‘Come on. I’ve been waiting for you!’ the man repeated as he leapt down from the rock to approach Eadulf.

Startled, Eadulf stood rooted to the spot and examined the man who had been standing on a jutting rock just above the path in front of him. He was dressed in rough country clothes. A brown, weatherbeaten skin denoted he was used to the outdoors. He was clad in a heavy leather jerkin over a thick woollen jacket and on his feet the tough boots that farmers usually wore.

Eadulf was not sure whether he should flee or stay and prepare to defend himself. Further along the track, he saw there was a cart already harnessed with a horse and realised that flight was pointless. He tensed his muscles for a fight.

The man halted and stared at him in disgust.

‘Where’s Gabrán? I thought he was coming in person this time?’

‘Gabrán?’ Eadulf glanced nervously behind him, uncertain what he should do. ‘He’s gone back to his boat,’ he said, deciding to tell the truth. After all, that was what he had heard the river-boat captain tell Dalbach.

‘Back to the river?’ The man before him spat at the side of the path. ‘Leaving you to come up here and make the collection, I suppose?’

‘Leaving me to come up here,’ repeated Eadulf, still truthfully.

‘I’ve been hanging around here for two hours. It’s cold and I wasn’t sure whether he had said to meet him here at Darach Carraig or at Dalbach’s cabin. Still, you are here now.’

‘Gabrán did not tell me that I should have been here earlier,’ Eadulf suddenly grew confident, realising that this must be the man with the merchandise whom Gabrán had been seeking when he came to Dalbach’s cabin earlier. Obviously this fellow had been confused by the similarity of the names Darach and Dalbach.

‘Just like him to get other people to do the work,’ sighed the man. Then he frowned. ‘You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?’

Eadulf stiffened slightly.

‘A Saxon, I can tell by your accent,’ went on the man suspiciously. Then he shrugged. ‘No skin off my nose. I suppose you accompany the merchandise all the way from here to the lands of the Saxons, eh?’

Eadulf decided to make a non-committal sound.

‘Well,’ the man went on, ‘it’s cold and it’s late and I don’t want to hang about here any longer than I have to. There are only two this time. I think, in future, I must go further afield. I suppose you’ve left your cart at the bottom of the hill? Didn’t Gabrán tell you that the track was traversable all the way up here? Well, you’ll have no trouble with only two of them. I’ll see Gabrán at Cam Eolaing when he returns from the coast but tell him, when you see him, that things are getting difficult. He can pay me when he returns. The price is going to increase though.’

Eadulf nodded as if in agreement. It seemed the only thing to do in this bizarre, confusing conversation.

‘Good man. They are in the cave as usual. Gabrán has told you where it is located?’

Eadulf hesitated and shook his head. ‘Not exactly,’ he said.

The man sighed impatiently, turned and pointed. ‘Two hundred metres along this path, my friend. Up the hill to your right you will see the short rock face, a small granite cliff. You can’t miss the opening to the cave. That’s where the merchandise is.’

The man glanced up at the sky and drew his collar up around his neck.

‘It’ll be raining soon. Maybe sleet will come with this cold. I’m off. Don’t forget to tell Gabrán what I say. It’s getting difficult.’

He went back to his cart, climbing quickly up onto the seat. He flicked the reins and turned the vehicle along a narrow, almost invisible track which branched off eastwards over the rolling hills.

Eadulf, shaken and confused, stood watching him go.

He had obviously been mistaken for one of Gabrán’s men. What merchandise was the boatman collecting in this godforsaken spot, he wondered. Darach Carraig – the oak rock. A curious name. He glanced behind him in the direction from which he had come. Gabrán had mentioned sending another to look for the merchandise. Perhaps that man was close behind him? He’d better move on quickly in case he was overtaken.

He set off hurriedly along the path. He supposed that he had been mentally counting the two hundred metres for he paused after a few
moments and glanced up the hill to his right. Not far above him he saw the cluster of large boulders and rocks strewn across the hill and the natural hill scooped out at that point forming a short granite cliff. He hesitated and felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. He could at least see what Gabrán’s peculiar merchandise was and why it had to be left in an isolated cave in an even more isolated part of the countryside. He glanced around. There was no sign of anyone in the bleak, darkening landscape.

Eadulf began to climb up towards the rocks and, as he did so, he saw that behind the larger of the granite boulders the almost cliff-like stretch of black rock appeared as if some hand had quarried it thus, it seemed so unnatural. As he drew closer, he was able to spot the dark entrance of a cave with a flat shelf of rock before it.

Reaching this, Eadulf paused for a moment to recover his breath from the short but steep ascent before taking a step forward. The cave was in semigloom. He peered into its dark recesses, standing waiting for his eyes to grow used to the shadows.

There was a sudden and unusual scrabbling sound which caused him to flinch, thinking some animal was within. Then he saw the source and his mouth dropped open in astonishment.

There were two human shapes on the ground at the far end of the cave, seated with their backs against the rocks. From the manner of their posture he saw they were bound hand and foot and, on closer inspection, he realised that they were also gagged. They were of slight build; that he could make out in the darkness, but beyond that he could see no other features.

‘Whoever you are,’ he declaimed loudly, ‘I mean you no harm.’

He moved towards them.

Instantly there arose muffled, piteous moaning and the figure nearest him seemed to cringe away, although it could not move far because of its bonds.

‘I mean you no harm,’ repeated Eadulf. ‘I must bring you to the light so that I may see you.’

Ignoring the animal-like sounds his movements provoked, he bent down and lifted the nearest squirming bound form and half-pulled, half-carried it to the cave entrance.

Two wide, frightened eyes stared at him from over the dirty rag that formed a gag.

Eadulf stepped away from the form in amazement.

It was the face of a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years of age, that stared back at him in utter fear.

‘Well, Abbess Fainder,’ Fidelma said slowly, as she examined the scene of carnage before her, ‘I think that you have some explaining to do.’

Abbess Fainder returned her gaze almost uncomprehendingly. Then she looked down at the body of Gabrán beside her and at the knife in her hand. With a strange animal-like groan she dropped the knife and sprang to her feet. Her eyes were wild.

‘He is dead,’ she said hoarsely.

‘That I can see,’ agreed Fidelma grimly. ‘Why?’

‘Why?’ the abbess echoed in a daze.

‘Why is he dead?’ pressed Fidelma.

The abbess blinked, staring at her as if she did not understand. It took a moment for her to gather her wits.

‘How should I know?’ she began and then stopped abruptly. ‘You don’t think that I …? I did not kill him!’

‘With due respect, Abbess Fainder,’ intervened Dego, peering over Fidelma’s shoulder, ‘we have just come aboard and, opening the cabin door, we find Gabrán dead. From the amount of blood it is clear that he has been knifed to death. You are kneeling at his head. Your clothes are smeared in blood and you have a knife in your hand. How are we to interpret this scene?’

The abbess seemed to be recovering herself. She glared angrily at Dego.

‘How dare you! Who are you to accuse the Abbess of Fearna of common murder?’

Fidelma’s mouth twitched in black humour as she considered the situation.

‘No murder is common, abbess. Least of all this murder. It would take a fool not to point out the obvious. Are you trying to tell us that you had no hand in this murder?’

Abbess Fainder’s face was white.

‘I did not do it.’ Her voice cracked with emotion.

‘So you say. Come out on deck and explain it to me.’

Fidelma stood aside from the door and gestured for the abbess to leave the cabin. Fainder stepped out onto the deck and blinked in the daylight.

‘There is no one else on board,’ Enda reported with a note of
malicious glee. He had made a cursory examination of the boat. ‘You appear to be alone here, Mother Abbess.’

Abbess Fainder sat down abruptly on a hatch cover and, placing her arms around her waist, she bent over and seemed to hug herself, rocking a little to and fro. Fidelma sat down beside her.

‘This is a bad business,’ Fidelma said gently, after a few moments. ‘The sooner we have an explanation the better.’

Abbess Fainder raised her anguished features to face her.

‘Explanation? I have told you that I did not do it! What other explanation do you need?’

There was enough of her old spirit left in the voice for Fidelma’s mouth to tighten impatiently.

‘Believe me, Mother Abbess, an explanation is needed and it had better be one that I am satisfied with,’ she snapped. ‘Perhaps you had best begin by explaining how you came to be here.’

The abbess’s features changed abruptly. The spark of her old arrogance burst out.

‘I don’t like your tone, Sister. Are you trying to accuse me?’

Fidelma was unconcerned. ‘I don’t have to accuse you. The circumstances speak for themselves. But if there is something that you wish to tell me, now is the time to do so. As a
dálaigh
I must report the evidence of my eyes.’

Abbess Fainder gazed at her as the shock of what she was saying registered. She opened her mouth, speechless for a moment or two.

‘But I did not do it,’ she said finally. ‘You can’t accuse me. You can’t!’

‘As I recall, Brother Eadulf said pretty much the same thing,’ Fidelma told her, ‘yet he was accused and found guilty of murder on much slimmer evidence. And here you are, actually found bending over the body, holding a knife, drenched in blood.’

‘But I am …’ The abbess’s mouth snapped shut as if she realised the conceit of what she had been about to say.

‘But you are the abbess whereas Brother Eadulf was merely a wandering foreigner?’ concluded Fidelma. ‘Well, Abbess Fainder? We are waiting for your story.’

A shudder went through the woman. Her haughty demeanour vanished and her shoulders slumped.

‘Bishop Forbassach told me that you had accused Gabrán of attacking you last night.’

Fidelma waited patiently.

‘Bishop Forbassach claimed that you would not lie over such a matter. So I came here to demand an explanation from Gabrán,’ went on Abbess Fainder. ‘I could not believe your story even if Forbassach did. Gabrán had …’ She hesitated.

‘Gabrán had … what?’ prompted Fidelma.

‘Gabrán is a well-known merchant on the river. He has traded with the abbey for many years, long before I became Abbess. Such an accusation brings an insult to our abbey and has to be challenged. I came here to see what Gabrán had to say.’

‘So you came here hoping to prove my accusation against Gabrán false? Continue.’

‘I finally found the
Cág
moored here. There was no one about. I came on board and called for Gabrán. There was no answer. I thought I heard a movement in the cabin so I went to the door and knocked. There was the sound of something heavy falling … I realise now that it was the body of Gabrán. Anyway, I called out again and went in. I saw the scene exactly as you saw it. Gabrán was dead and lying on his back in the cabin. There was blood everywhere. My first thought was for the man and I entered and knelt down. He was beyond help.’

‘Presumably this is how you explain the fact that your clothes are stained with blood?’

‘It is why my habit is bloody, yes.’

‘Then what?’

‘I was shocked by the knife-wounds that had been inflicted. I saw the knife …’

‘Where was this knife?’

‘Lying by the side of the body. I saw it and picked it up. I don’t know what made me do that. Some unthinking reaction, I suppose. I just knelt there.’

‘And then we arrived.’

To Fidelma’s surprise, Abbess Fainder shook her head.

‘There was something else before you came.’

‘What was that?’

‘It didn’t mean much to me then but now it does.’

‘Go on.’

‘I heard a soft splash.’

Fidelma arched an eyebrow. ‘A soft splash? What did you think it was?’