The Haunted Abbot (38 page)

‘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 was not 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 about his 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, bleary-eyed, 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 they watched 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 drew 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!’

Eadulf let go of Fidelma’s hand and strode forward to where Brother Higbald was still bending over the body. The apothecary glanced up. Eadulf was surprised at the anger in the man’s face. Higbald seemed about to say something to him but then he looked quickly away. Eadulf glanced down, peering closely at the features of the dead girl. Then he turned towards the sobbing Brother Redwald, who was trying to control an emotion that Eadulf realised was not grief.

‘Come here,’ Eadulf ordered in a sharp, imperative voice that surprised those about him.

The young boy moved automatically in response to his command. He shuffled forward to stand by Eadulf, his face twitching nervously.

‘Don’t be afraid, son.’ Eadulf was suddenly gentle but firm. ‘This body is bleeding too profusely to be a ghost. I want you to look down upon her face.’

Brother Redwald stared back at him, eyes wide, almost pleading.

‘I cannot, Brother …’

‘Look down!’ snapped Eadulf.

The boy unwillingly lowered his gaze to the corpse.

‘Tell us now, is that Gélgeis? You said that you knew her well. Is it she?’

Brother Redwald closed his eyes, not really looking, and merely nodded vigorously before backing quickly away.

‘Do you say that this is a woman who has been dead for over a year?’ growled Sigeric angrily. ‘Think, boy. This is a substantial body and no ghost.’

The boy was crying, frightened and incoherent.

‘The boy is useless as a witness,’ admonished Fidelma, moving forward. She glanced towards Brother Willibrod. ‘Shall we explain the identity of this girl,
dominus
, or will you?’

Sigeric was surprised. ‘You know the identity of this girl?’

Fidelma grimaced, still looking at Brother Willibrod. He was too immersed in grief to answer her.

‘Then I shall explain,’ Eadulf said. ‘This is the girl known locally as Lioba.’

‘You mean that Gélgeis has not been dead but was living under the name of Lioba?’ Sigeric asked quickly. ‘You told me that you suspected a girl Lioba as being involved in some conspiracy. Now I am confused. What has that to do with Willibrod?’

‘I’d rather that Brother Willibrod answer that question,’ replied Eadulf firmly.

‘I am at a loss to understand what is happening here.’ Sigeric sighed. Then he looked across at Fidelma. She was bent down to the body of the girl and seemed to be examining her clothing. She looked up at Eadulf and gave a quick shake of her head. A number of expressions chased themselves across Sigeric’s features. Confusion. Annoyance. Finally, resignation.

‘Let no one touch anything here,’ he ordered sharply. ‘Remove Abbot Cild to his chamber and let someone remain with him. Brother Willibrod, are you able to return to your own chambers?’ The
dominus
seemed to pull himself together at the harsh tone of command. He rose, wiping his face on his sleeve, and inclined his head in supplication. ‘Then do so. Also take that young boy away,’ motioning to Redwald, ‘and see to him.’