Behold a Pale Horse

‘Indeed, it is,’ agreed the elderly scholar. ‘I shall take charge.’

‘But we must await the return of Magister Ado before we can appoint a new abbot,’ Brother Hnikar protested.

‘I did not say I would take charge as abbot,’ VenerableIonas replied grimly. ‘I will take charge until Magister Ado returns and then we shall discuss the matter.’

‘We need to establish when the abbot was last seen alive,’ Fidelma told them.

Brother Hnikar regarded her with disapproval. ‘I have to remind you that you are a visitor in this abbey. Distinguished, so I am told. But nevertheless a visitor.’

Venerable Ionas cleared his throat. ‘Dear Brother Hnikar, our distinguished visitor does have a point. These things need to be done. And, as custom dictates, this night we must lay to rest the remains of our great friend and former abbot. To him we owe a duty to find his murderer.’

‘I stand corrected, Venerable Ionas,’ sniffed the apothecary. ‘It was probably some barbarian intent on robbery. Although I would say that the person who has committed this crime will have escaped to the forests long ago. Therefore we need to find Wulfoald and ask that he send his warriors out to track the culprit down.’

‘I don’t think it was some robber,’ Fidelma was prompted into saying and then shut her mouth firmly as Brother Hnikar’s lips visibly thinned. However, Venerable Ionas distracted him quickly.

‘Time irretrievably passes, my brother. We must seize it if we are to get anywhere. As you have said, Sister Fidelma is a distinguished visitor. She is a lawyer and judge in her own land, and as such she was entrusted by the Holy Father and his adviser and military governor to solve the mystery of the murder of an archbishop at the Lateran Palace.’

Brother Hnikar made a dismissive motion with his hand. ‘I have already heard about that.’

‘Then, as the senior cleric in this community, I tell you this — I am appointing her to make inquiries about the matter.She has my full authority to come and go as she likes and to inquire of whomever she likes.’

Brother Hnikar was looking shocked. ‘But the Rule …’

‘The Rule continues but in no way blocks her authority nor the authority that she holds from me.’

The apothecary was going to open his mouth again, hesitated and then bowed towards Fidelma.

‘Will there be any objection, Sister Fidelma, to my removing the body to prepare it for burial, now we know how he met his death?’ His voice held a thinly veiled sarcasm.

‘You may remove the body as you will, but only after I have made an examination of the room. We may know how the abbot met his death but we must also learn why and by whom.’ She turned to Venerable Ionas with a nod of thanks. ‘It seems that Brother Hnikar cannot help us for the moment and we will have a further word with Brother Waldipert later.’

It was a clear dismissal of both men who then departed, one with a scowl and the other in bemusement, leaving Venerable Ionas and Fidelma alone.

‘You will not have long,’ the elderly cleric said with a sigh. ‘Brother Hnikar does not like what I have done and he will be off, even now, to find Brother Wulfila to support him. And when Magister Ado returns …’ He ended with a shrug. ‘Perhaps we had best do what Brother Hnikar suggested and alert some of Wulfoald’s warriors to search the surrounding countryside. The murderer cannot have gone far on foot, and he would be recognised if he left on horseback.’

‘That is true enough, if the murderer has even left the abbey. Anyway, Wulfoald is no longer here. And it would be a waste of time searching outside the abbey walls.’

Venerable Ionas’ eyes widened. ‘Am I to take it that you mean the murderer is still hiding in the abbey?’

‘Not hiding,’ replied Fidelma grimly. ‘I think he is known to the community. I believe that I have been led on a false trail. A trail deliberately laid to confuse me.’

‘How?’

‘The death of Abbot Servillius.’

‘I am sorry, I do not follow you.’

‘I was so keen on following clues that led me to the abbot. Whoever laid the trail knew that sooner or later I would connect the name Quintus Servillius Caepio with Abbot Servillius. One and one can make two, but sometimes you have to ensure that the two numbers you are given in the first place are accurate.’

Venerable Ionas looked perplexed. ‘I am still not following your logic, Sister Fidelma, but I will trust you for the time being. You mean that all you told me in my study just now was wrong?’

‘Not necessarily wrong,’ she explained quickly. ‘It was the information that I was being carefully fed. Information that someone had painstakingly laid as a trail in such a clever way that I would think I was uncovering it myself. It was laid so as to ensure my curiosity would be roused. Someone removed pages from the books in the library, not because they did not want me to see what was on the pages, but precisely because they knew my curiosity would lead me to find out what was on them.’

‘But there was little on those pages apart from the story of Caepio’s lost gold.’

‘The gold of Quintus Servillius Caepio,’ corrected Fidelma. ‘Aurum Tolosa.’

‘And?’

‘You provided the last clue — you told me Servillius was a patronymic. You admitted that the abbot was proud of his ancient patrician roots in this area.’

Venerable Ionas was frowning thoughtfully. ‘So I gave you this last clue? Yes, I remember telling you about the name …’ A suspicous look suddenly crossed his face. ‘Are you suggesting that I led you on a false trail?’

‘It is more complicated than that,’ replied Fidelma. ‘The person behind this would make a great fidchell player.’

‘A what?’

‘It is a board game played in my country, and its name means “wooden wisdom”. In many ways it is like ludus latrun-culorum, the board game of military tactics that is played here in this country.’

‘I still find it hard to follow your reasoning.’

‘There is a master player, a strategist involved in this matter; he or she has laid out all the pieces so that I have been led into a blind alley. He or she thought that it would take me longer to work things out, but realising that I was shortly to confront the abbot, they also realised it was too soon for their purpose. That is why, I’m afraid, Abbot Servillius had to die. I think he was killed soon after he arrived back in the abbey yesterday.’

‘It sounds as though you know the identity of this strategist, as you call him.’

‘In my country,’ replied Fidelma, ‘we have a saying: “woe to him whose betrayer sits at his table”.’

There was the sound of raised voices at the main door and a moment later Magister Ado came hurrying into the hall; behind him was Brother Faro.

‘Is it true?’ he demanded, looking at Venerable Ionas. ‘I have just returned from Travo to be greeted by the news that Abbot Servillius is dead — that he has been murdered.’

‘News seems to travel quickly,’ Fidelma muttered.

‘As far as the abbey gates,’ Magister Ado replied withuncharacteristic sharpness. ‘Brother Wulfila just told me. I met with Brother Faro on the way back. We heard nothing until we arrived here. So it is true?’

‘I am afraid it is true, Brother,’ admitted Venerable Ionas. ‘The abbot was beaten to death, his skull crushed.’

Magister Ado crossed himself swiftly. ‘Deus adjuvat nos,’ he muttered piously. ‘Has the culprit been caught?’

‘Alas, no.’

‘Is it known who did this?’

‘I think so,’ Fidelma replied. ‘And we might lay many deaths at his door.’

‘Many deaths?’ queried Magister Ado.

‘I think our Hibernian sister means the death of Lady Gunora and others.’

Magister Ado’s expression was grim. ‘We live in evil times, Fidelma. We are pawns between the ambitions of Grimoald and Perctarit. Abbot Servillius gave sanctuary to Prince Romuald, and once it was known to people like Bishop Britmund, it would have become known to those who hoped to use the prince to attack the father. I suggest Abbot Servillius was murdered in retaliation for giving shelter to the young boy.’