be something about her that was not of a temporal nature.’
The boy was quiet, reflecting.
‘She was substantial, truly. But she was a ghost. What else could she be when she was dead? Anyway, it was clear that she was a ghost in spite of the substantialness.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because her face was ghastly white. Even in the flickering candlelight, her face was pale, white … Truly, she was not of this world.’
Fidelma pressed her lips together in thought. She realised that Brother Redwald was trembling slightly and she felt that it would not be wise to press him for further information. She was about to dismiss him when the sounds of hurrying footsteps halted outside the door. Brother Higbald opened the door and entered without knocking. He looked agitated. His eyes fell first on Sister Fidelma. He smiled and was about to say something when he noticed Brother Redwald.
‘Go to your cell and I will meet you there in a moment. Hurry, do not delay.’ His tone was curt.
Eadulf and Fidelma exchanged a glance of surprise.
‘What is the matter?’ demanded Eadulf, as the young boy hurried obediently away.
Brother Higbald paused, glancing after Brother Redwald, as if to make sure that he was out of earshot. Then he spoke softly and urgently, speaking directly to Fidelma first and then to Eadulf.
‘Look to your safety, Sister Fidelma; look to your safety, Brother Eadulf.’ His voice was filled with foreboding. ‘Terrible news …’
‘News? What news?’ inquired Eadulf.
‘Warriors of the East Saxons have landed on the shore, not far away from here. Word has come that they are marching in this direction.’
Eadulf was dismissive. ‘It is probably the men I encountered from the longship two days ago. There were but a few men. They can surely do you no harm?’
Brother Higbald was still worried.
‘The news is that there are many longships and it may well be that they are Sigehere’s men come to destroy all the Christian houses that give succour to his Cousin Sebbi. The word is that they are marching this way. Take my advice and look to your own safety now! You know what to do, Brother. I must go to prepare our own defence.’
He gave them one last pleading glance before leaving hurriedly.
Eadulf turned back to Fidelma. His face was anxious.
‘This is bad news. But it might be to our advantage. I think we must do as he asks. Are you well enough to travel now?’
Fidelma hesitated and then nodded in silent agreement.
‘I suggest that we leave immediately, before Abbot Cild claims that you have conjured an army of the East Saxons to fall on his abbey,’ Eadulf said.
‘Perhaps you are right.’ Fidelma smiled softly. ‘This does seem an appropriate time to make our departure.’
Eadulf grabbed the bread and cold meats which Brother Redwald had just brought them and thrust them into his bag. He uttered a small prayer of thanks for his wisdom in transferringhis belongings to Fidelma’s room while he was nursing her. He helped her put on her cloak and slung his own around his shoulders.
Her steps were unsteady in her weakness but Eadulf held out a hand to balance her. She steadied herself and looked questioningly at him.
‘Now, where is this escape route? We would be spotted trying to leave the abbey any other way now that there is such an alarm.’
Eadulf went directly to the wall behind her bed and drew aside the tapestry.
Fidelma’s eyes widened a little at the door which Eadulf pushed. It swung inwards.
‘A secret tunnel?’ she asked.
‘It is supposed to lead to the outside.’
‘And if our ghost is tangible, this is doubtless the way she came into this chamber and departed without being seen by anyone other than young Redwald.’
Eadulf had not given the matter a thought but realised that it was a logical deduction. But now they had no time for such contemplation.
They entered the tunnel. Just inside was a wooden shelf on which there was a tallow candle. Eadulf returned to the room to secure a light from the glowing embers of the fire and then rejoined her, drawing the tapestry down behind him and swinging the door shut. The dark stone tunnel was damp and musty and, as they moved cautiously along it, they heard the alarmed squeaking as mice scampered before them.
Eadulf realised that the tunnel was not a single one but part of a network which must cover the entire abbey. He was trying to concentrate on remembering the directions that Brother Higbald had given him. Had it been two turns to the right and one to the left or the reverse? He uttered a silent curse as he realised that he had forgotten. The only thing to do now was trust in luck. He dared not tell Fidelma that he had forgotten such simple instructions.
They came to an intersection, one way going right and one going left. Eadulf hesitated for a moment and turned right. The tunnel narrowed slightly. There was another intersection and he turned right again. It was damp now, the walls fairly drippingwith moisture. Behind him he heard Fidelma coughing. This atmosphere was not going to be good for her after her bout of illness. He moved on as rapidly as he could.
‘There’s some light ahead,’ came Fidelma’s whisper from behind him. Eadulf had already seen a flickering glow. It was obviously torchlight which seemed to emanate from a side chamber. He turned quickly.
‘We should proceed quietly,’ he whispered. It was an unnecessary instruction.
They moved silently towards the chamber from which the light was coming and Eadulf halted before the open entrance. Stealthily he peered round. A torch lit a chamber beyond the archway. Thankfully, it was empty — empty of people, that is. There were benches and wooden pegs along one side of the wall from which hung an amazing array of shields, swords and lances. Eadulf took a step forward and regarded the warriors’ accoutrements with bewilderment. They were all brightly polished and well kept.
‘Curious,’ he whispered.
Fidelma peered over his shoulder.
‘Didn’t someone say that this had been an old fortress before it became an abbey?’ She spoke irritably, distracted by another bout of coughing.
‘Torches do not burn for a hundred years, nor do weapons and shields keep their sheen,’ Eadulf said reprovingly.
Fidelma was too concerned to get out of the damp atmosphere to be inclined to linger.
‘Well, you told me that Abbot Cild was once a warrior. Perhaps he finds the habit hard to break. Let’s move on. I am cold.’
‘But the shields bear Iclingas images, and-’ Eadulf’s jaw clenched shut and he moved forwards into the chamber. He had caught sight of an object on the floor beneath a row of shields. It was a small dark leather purse of rectangular shape with a pattern branded on it which struck a distant chord in his memory. He reached forward and picked it up, noting that it had obviously been wrenched off someone’s belt with a degree of violence for the leather thongs were stretched and torn.
‘Merciful God!’ he breathed as he examined it.
Fidelma stood impatiently at the door. ‘What is it?’
He turned and held it out so that she could see it in the light.Burned onto the leather below the patterned symbol, probably by means of a red hot needle or similarly pointed object, was a name. The name was ‘Botulf’.
‘It is empty,’ she observed, quickly peering inside. ‘What is your friend’s purse doing here?’
Eadulf had been looking closely around the spot where he had found it. There were dark stains there. He followed a splattering of them to where some steps led upwards to be blocked by an old, wooden door, bolted on the inside.
Fidelma had recognised the stains.
‘Blood. I think your friend Botulf might have met his death here?’ she observed softly.
