The Haunted Abbot

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.’