Fidelma grimaced with a cynical humour.
‘I think the idea of being ceremonially buried alive, face downward, has improved my health and motivation very rapidly.’
Eadulf looked sympathetic. ‘The drawback is that while the snow no longer falls, the skies are clear which means the temperature is freezing outside. It will be a long walk whichever direction we go.’
Fidelma’s mind was clearly elsewhere for she said: ‘You are absolutely certain that you saw this woman, the one identified as Gélgeis?’
‘Absolutely certain,’ Eadulf said. ‘She was as tangible and as real as you or me.’
‘Then the obvious must be true. There is a real woman in this abbey. Has any search been conducted?’
Eadulf smiled indulgently as he shook his head.
‘There is some hysteria here about ghosts. Only Brother Higbald, the apothecary, seems sane and treats the matter with any degree of rationality.’
‘There is no chance of doing some investigation into this matter?’ pressed Fidelma.
‘None at all. Abbot Cild is not the best person to deal with. His authority seems absolute. He has already made up his mind on the matter.’
‘I am not going to suffer for his fear and ignorance. But from what you say, there is a great mystery here, Eadulf. It is obvious that your friend Botulf had discovered some answer to the mystery, which was why he was killed.’
‘Before this matter of the haunting came up, I was going to seek out Garb at Tunstall, where I think he will be hiding. He, or his father, may be able to provide some answers.’
Fidelma nodded approval. ‘A good method of proceeding, Eadulf. I agree. I should soon be able to start to make inquiries myself.’
Eadulf looked embarrassed. He coughed nervously.
‘What is it, Eadulf? Do you have something else on your mind?’
‘I just want to say that you must remember that, apart from any other consideration, you are in the land of the Anglo-Saxons and, apart from the courtesy shown you at the Council of Whitby, the law does not recognise your authority.’
‘I understand that.’
‘I mean that women are not accorded the same place here as in your country, Fidelma. Be circumspect if you seek to question the people here. It is thought wrong for women to exert authority.’
Fidelma grimaced. ‘I cannot pretend to be what I am not.’
‘All I say is that you should be prudent.’
‘If I am not, then I am sure that you will caution me.’ She smiled brightly.
‘Well, wisdom dictates that our first priority is to remove ourselves from the reach of Abbot Cild.’
‘But you wish to resolve the mystery of the death of your friend?’
‘I do,’ asserted Eadulf with quiet vehemence.
‘Then we shall do so. Now, if you can mix me some of your noxious brews to cure a sore throat and a headache, perhaps I will soon feel well enough to join you in this trip to Tunstall.’
Chapter Ten
The day passed in an agony of slowness for Eadulf. Fidelma rested and slept through most of it. From time to time, Eadulf paced the room in an attempt to relieve the tension he felt. Only the fact that Brother Higbald had shown him an escape route kept his frustration from boiling into uncontrollable rage. Brother Higbald and Brother Redwald were their only visitors during the course of the day. On these occasions Fidelma was awake but decided to feign sleep when they entered the room in order that her improved condition would not be reported to Abbot Cild.
Brother Redwald, who brought their meals, stayed only long enough to leave the steaming bowls of broth and plates of cold meats, cheeses and bread or to pick up the empty trays. Brother Higbald on his visit was more relaxed and forthcoming about what was happening in the abbey. He informed Eadulf that Abbot Cild was making preparations for the tribunal at which the charge of conjuring spirits was to be made against Fidelma. The abbot was going to be both prosecutor and judge. He had informed Brother Willibrod that he would give Fidelma only one more day to recover from her illness. After that, whatever her condition, she would be brought before him and the charges made. Brother Higbald was emphatic in his advice that they should leave as soon as possible.
Eadulf listened attentively, nodding agreement without committing himself. Fidelma had advised Eadulf to keep his own counsel, trusting no one in the abbey, not even Brother Higbald. When Eadulf pointed out that he trusted Brother Higbald implicitly, Fidelma had reproved him.
‘In such circumstances, you should trust no one. How do you know that he has not been sent by the abbot to provoke us into action?’
Eadulf accepted her advice, and when the apothecary pressed them as to what time Eadulf thought that they would depart,Eadulf was vague and pointed out that it would depend on when Fidelma had recovered.
For Eadulf, the night passed uncomfortably. He decided to stay once more in Fidelma’s room, sleeping in the chair by the fire. He dozed in short restless periods but each time he awoke he saw that Fidelma was sleeping a comfortable sleep and her temperature was normal.
He finally awoke with a grey light seeping into the room. Dawn was late coming in winter and, by the sounds about him, the members of the abbey had already been at their devotions and work for some time. In fact, he heard the sounds of an unusual bustle and preparation. Then he realised what the day was. It was the Eve of Christ’s Mass, the eve of the birth of the Saviour. He felt a sudden guilt that he had not given the date any thought before.
He rose anxiously and, to his surprise, he found Fidelma already washed and dressed.
‘You must be careful,’ he said without preamble. ‘If Abbot Cild saw you now he would observe that you are fully recovered.’
‘
Eadulf was about to go to the tapestry to show her the route when there was a deferential tap on the door and a moment later Brother Redwald entered. As usual he came bearing a tray of food.
His eyes widened a little in surprise when he saw Fidelma standing up and dressed.
‘It is good to see you well, Sister,’ he muttered awkwardly as he put down the tray.
‘Brother Redwald, is it not?’ Fidelma smiled gently at the youth. ‘I am afraid that I have not been cognisant of things the last day or two but I remember your kindness when I arrived at this abbey.’
The boy coloured hotly.
‘Sister, I confess that I have done you a disservice.’
‘Brother Eadulf has told me that you merely reported what you saw in this room when you entered it the other day,’ replied Fidelma. ‘It is others who have misconstrued it, sothere is no blame to you. Can you describe what it was that you actually saw?’
The boy shifted his weight and glanced towards Brother Eadulf.
‘I told him-’
Fidelma interrupted with a slight gesture of her hand but she continued to smile.
‘It is not the same as telling me. Describe what it was that you saw.’
‘There is not much to add. I came into the room to see if there was anything I could bring you. You were lying asleep or in a fever. By the side of the bed, bending over you was a figure. It was that of a woman. As I entered, she straightened and turned towards me. She looked directly at me. I recognised her, for when I came to this abbey Abbot Cild’s wife was alive. It was she. The lady Gélgeis who they said perished in the mire not far from here.’
Fidelma regarded him thoughtfully.
‘How did she appear? I mean, was she as substantial as I am? You see, if she were truly a ghost, as everyone apparently believes, then surely she would have been a figure of ethereal quality. There would have to
