Behold a Pale Horse

continues to sell milk to the abbey. Apart from Brother Waldipert, I do not think my lad knew anyone else among the brethren.’

Fidelma felt disappointed at not being able to form an immediate link between Brother Ruadán and Wamba. ‘I am told that Wamba found something on the mountain a few days before he died.’

The woman blinked. A suspicious expression crossed her features and she said defensively, ‘There is a saying that what is found on the mountain and not claimed immediately belongs to the finder and cannot be reclaimed later.’

‘Do not worry,’ Fidelma assured her. ‘I am not here to claim anything. I just want to know the circumstances of that find and what happened to it.’

The woman looked from her to Brother Eolann, who had been translating this, and back again to Fidelma.

‘Sit you down,’ she said heavily, indicating a wooden bench by the trees. ‘I will fetch cider for you. The day is hot, andthough I am not enamoured of your abbot, there is no need for you to suffer in his stead.’

Fidelma had noticed some long pauses in between the translations and so took the opportunity to ask Brother Eolann if he found the task difficult.

‘The woman speaks with an accent of the peasantry. Sometimes it is hard to understand.’

A few moments passed before Hawisa returned with an earthenware jug, which had been standing in the stream, and some mugs. She poured a rich, dark golden liquid into them, and they sipped gratefully at the chilled liquid. Hawisa now seated herself nearby and stared into her own drink for a moment or two and then spoke with sad reflection, pausing every so often for the Brother to translate for the lady.

‘Wamba came back from herding the goats one day and told me that we would soon be rich.’ She grimaced fleetingly at the memory. ‘He told me that he had found a little gold coin. Alas, he did not know the value for it did not make us rich, but the abbot gave me sufficient goods in exchange that lasted for a while.’

‘I am sorry, but I do not understand.’ Fidelma glanced at Brother Eolann, wondering if he had misinterpreted what she was saying. ‘I understood the boy took the coin to Brother Waldipert and he promised the boy a valuation of the coin. Wamba died before he could go back to the abbey to conclude the deal.’

Brother Eolann had a hesitant exchange with the woman.

‘She confirms what you said,’ the young man responded at last. ‘She saw Abbot Servillius, who told her that the coin was old but not valuable. He arranged for her to be provided with some produce in compensation for the coin. She saysthat it was a pity. Wamba had hoped to increase their little herd by purchasing another goat or two.’

Fidelma turned back to Hawisa.

‘So it was not worth very much. What sort of coin was it?’

The woman shrugged. ‘Coins are rare in this part of the world. Yet I have seen gold before.’

‘So the abbot kept this coin?’

‘He did.’

‘And you are sure that it was an old coin?’

The woman nodded and set down her empty earthenware mug beside her.

‘I have been robbed of those I loved. First my fine husband was taken to serve in Grimoald’s army three years ago. He never returned and others told me he had been slain. Now my only child is dead. I have nothing to lose now so I care not what you report to your abbot. Wamba was killed because he found a piece of gold. That was why he was buried hurriedly, so that I should not see the wounds.’

She leaned forward suddenly and, using two forefingers, sharply tapped Fidelma’s chest. She repeated a short sentence three times, but the only word Fidelma could make out was Odo. She glanced at Brother Eolann. ‘What does she say about Odo — that’s the nephew, isn’t it?’

‘She says Odo will confirm her story,’ replied Brother Eolann. ‘I don’t think there is a need for that. I have translated all she has said.’

‘We can accept her account of what happened,’ agreed Fidelma. Yet there is something illogical here,’ she went on. ‘Even if the coin was gold, it could not be so valuable that it would need several to be involved in the conspiracy to kill the boy. There wouldn’t be enough for anyone to take a profit from the deed.’

Brother Eolann regarded her uncertainly. ‘What do you mean?’

‘First, we must include Brother Waldipert in this affair. Then we must include Abbot Servillius himself, as he valued the coin. Then we must include the warrior Wulfoald. The implication is that he might have killed the boy. He certainly found the body and took it to the abbey. We might even add Brother Hnikar who, as apothecary, would have washed and laid out the body for burial. He would have noticed if the body carried any marks to indicate an unnatural death — for I think Hawisa is arguing that the boy was buried before she could see the body and be aware that her son had been murdered.’

Brother Eolann shrugged. ‘I have not your clever tongue nor way of thought.’

Hawisa had been watching them very carefully during this exchange and suddenly spoke vehemently.

‘She says that all she knows is that she saw the gold coin. Wamba took it to the abbey and he was dead the next day. And now he lies in the graveyard of the abbey where she cannot pray daily, for the journey is too much. She contents herself by praying at the spot where he was found.’

The woman suddenly snapped out something in a harsh voice.

‘Report me to your abbot. I have no fear,’ translated Brother Eolann.

‘Neither do you need to fear,’ Fidelma assured her. ‘We are not here to report to Abbot Servillius. He does not know that we are here anyway, and we would prefer it that you did not tell anyone of our visit.’

Hawisa looked puzzled.

‘Tell her that I am just a visitor from Hibernia. I camehere because I am cursed with a curiosity about all things. And I heard about the story of her son, Wamba.’

Hawisa was still puzzled but seemed to accept that this was some sort of explanation. Once more Brother Eolann began to translate as she spoke. ‘The founder of the abbey was from Hibernia. I am told several of your countrymen come to visit the abbey in his memory.’

‘Exactly so.’ There was a silence and then Fidelma added: ‘Before we leave, we would say a prayer at the spot where Wamba fell, where you now go to say your daily prayer. Would you tell us the way there?’

Once again Hawisa was regarding Fidelma suspiciously. ‘Why would you want to see where my son fell to his death?’

‘It is not to see where but merely to say a prayer for his soul.’ Fidelma knew she was lying and hoped that Brother Eolann could translate her words with more sincerity. Hopefully, she would be forgiven for the lie as it was in the cause of seeking the truth.

Hawisa did not answer at once. She seemed to think carefully before telling them, ‘If you follow that path,’ she indicated a track through the trees just beyond the cabin, ‘follow it to the north-east, you’ll eventually come to two large rocks that divide the pathway. Do not take the descending path but follow on and you’ll emerge along a series of high rock formations. There is a small cairn which I raised to mark the spot. It was said that is the point from where he fell.’

Fidelma reached forward and placed a hand on the woman’s arm.

‘We are most grateful for your help, Hawisa.’

‘I ask you not to damage the little cairn. Someone did so between yesterday and this morning when I went to pray.’

‘We will not damage it,’ Fidelma promised, then she frowned. ‘What sort of damage?’ she asked.

‘The stones were knocked aside,’ replied Hawisa.

‘Oh. Perhaps it was some animal then?’

‘Not so. I built the cairn around a small wooden box in which poor Wamba used to keep a few things he prized. Coloured beads, stones and his favourite pipe.’

‘Pipe?’ queried Fidelma.

‘Most lads play pipes on the mountain. Simple things. It was only a rough box that he had made himself. Someone has taken it, and a curse on their soul for doing so. They are a disgrace to their cloth.’

Fidelma stared at the woman. ‘Their cloth? What makes you say that?’