Peter Tremayne - The Haunted Abbot

‘How can you believe that Sister Fidelma is capable of that which you accuse her of?’ he asked softly, realising, as he asked the question, that it was a weak argument.

‘I have given my reasons. They are plain enough. And it seems that your irreligion makes you blind to her guilt. These mysterious happenings only occurred after you both arrived in this kingdom. That is the reason I accuse her. I believe that she is one who works for the devil, or by some devilish and curious art has conjured images which the devil has devised to entangle and ensnare the souls of the pious brethren in this community. It is my responsibility to save them from damnation!’

‘Without the trial of her whom you accuse? While she lies ill and in no position to defend herself?’ Eadulf was seething with anger. ‘I tell you, Cild, you exceed your authority. You believe in an eye for an eye. So be it. Should harm befall Sister Fidelma, you will truly know what vengeance is. I swear it.’

Abbot Cild sat back and examined Eadulf’s angry features. His mouth turned down.

‘One thing you do not lack, Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, and that is courage. You threaten me in the sanctuary of my own abbey? I could have you taken out and flogged, aye, and even burnt as a pagan heretic for daring to ignore the holy words of the Scriptures. I have armed brethren within call. What do you think I should do in the face of your threats, Brother Eadulf?’

Eadulf stared back defiantly.

‘I do not know what you will do, Cild. I cannot predict whatyou will do, for you do not seem to be answerable to anyone for your actions. I will tell you this, though. If anything happens to Sister Fidelma or to me, then the retribution that you will bring down on yourself might be more than you bargain for.

‘Sister Fidelma is blood sister to the King of Cashel. She is highly respected in the faith having been a delegate at Whitby. She attended the Lateran Palace at Rome, and is a lawyer of her people. Do you think that you can act against her with impunity? I, an emissary of Archbishop Theodore, am as of no consequence compared with her. However, of little worth as I am, Archbishop Theodore will want an accounting of King Ealdwulf if harm befalls me, and Ealdwulf will want to know why his tranquillity is disturbed by Canterbury.’

There was a lengthy silence after Eadulf stopped speaking.

Then Abbot Cild actually smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

‘You have put your case very well. I shall now tell you what I shall do. I shall wait until Sister Fidelma is recovered from her illness and then we shall have a formal hearing about the matter. If it is proved that she has had no hand in conjuring spirits in this abbey, then you may continue on your journey. Whatever whispers of the dead brought you hither can be consigned back to the dead. Do you understand me?’

‘How can one defend oneself against such an intangible accusation as conjuring images of the dead?’ demanded Eadulf.

Abbot Cild spread his hands. ‘That is not my concern. If she is innocent then let her prove it.’

‘And who will decide her innocence or guilt?’

‘I will,’ returned the abbot blandly.

‘And if you decide that she is guilty?’

‘The punishment is prescribed by the laws of the Wuffingas, the laws of our people handed down to us by Wuffa son of Wehha.’

A coldness went through Eadulf. As a gerefa he knew the laws well, but what was more terrifying was the fact that it was obvious that Abbot Cild was demented, and in his state of mind the man was without mercy.

‘As amended by the ministration of the new faith?’ he asked hopefully.

Abbot Cild shook his head. ‘I see no reason why the laws of the Wuffingas should be amended. The penalty for conjuring demons and ghosts is clear … the guilty woman is placed face downwards in a grave and buried — alive!’

As Eadulf was leaving the abbot’s chambers he encountered the flaxen-haired Brother Higbald, the abbey’s apothecary. Higbald greeted him in a concerned but friendly fashion, still wearing the bright and humorous appearance he had that morning. Humour seemed a natural attitude to him. He had that ease of manner which reminded Eadulf of Aldhere’s jocular attitude to the world.

‘So, Brother Eadulf, you have heard that mass hysteria has taken over our poor community?’

Eadulf halted, frowning. It took him a moment to realise what the apothecary was referring to. His eyes lighted.

‘Then you do not believe in this ghostly apparition?’

Brother Higbald shook his head. If anything it seemed his smile broadened.

‘I cannot believe we have a wraith or phantom wafting through these dismal corridors. I believe that young Redwald was imagining things. Yet I have to point out that it was you who first raised the image of a woman who, by poor Brother Willibrod’s account, bore a striking resemblance to the dead wife of the abbot. Perhaps young Redwald overheard you talking about the matter and then, with an overfull imagination, he embroidered something he saw in the shadows. That’s all.’

Eadulf put his head to one side reflectively.

‘That is a possibility, though I have spoken to young Redwald and his fear is genuine enough.’

‘It might well be. It is possible to convince yourself that you have seen something when you have not. Youth is impressionable.’

Eadulf smiled grimly. ‘Granted that is so. Can the same explanation be ascribed to my sighting of the lady?’

Brother Higbald chuckled. ‘I do not know you, Brother, and therefore I cannot say. All I know is — as I told you this morning- we are a small community and I would know if there was a woman in this place.’

‘But would you know if it were a shadow, an image from the Otherworld?’ demanded Eadulf.

Brother Higbald shook his head firmly. ‘You do not believe in such things, my friend. Neither do I.’

‘Unfortunately, your abbot and many of the brethren here do.’

‘That is a difficulty, I know. In fact, I was just on my way to see how Sister Fidelma is faring. I’ll accompany you, if I may?’

‘She has fallen into a fever,’ Eadulf said as they walked together along the corridor.

Brother Higbald did not appear perturbed.

‘It is usually the way with such agues. The fever comes and must break naturally, although we can help with some medication. Usually, the fever breaks in the early hours of the morning. There is nothing we can do but wait.’ Higbald paused and glanced at him. ‘Where did you disappear to this morning?’

‘I rode out after Abbot Cild and his party,’ Eadulf replied. ‘I did not catch up with them, but I caught up with the abbot’s brother.’

Brother Higbald halted almost in mid-stride and stared at Eadulf.

‘You met and spoke to Aldhere?’

Eadulf nodded. ‘An interesting man. Not quite as the abbot would describe him. There seem some interesting undercurrents here. If I had my way, I would turn the matter over to the King’s high steward to investigate.’

Brother Higbald resumed the walk and Eadulf fell in with him.

‘I try to avoid fraternal strife. But you are aware of where Abbot Cild’s accusation against Sister Fidelma may lead?’

Eadulf nodded grimly.

‘Would you accept some advice?’ Brother Higbald asked.

Eadulf gave him a curious glance. ‘Advice?’

‘As soon as your companion’s fever has broken, I would leave this place.’

Eadulf sighed with resignation. ‘I think that is exactly what you counselled me this morning.’

‘It is the best advice I can give,’ replied Brother Higbald. ‘I will show you a means through which you may pass out of the abbey unnoticed; one which is not generally known to the brethren. With luck, you could escape Cild’s wrath with ease. I, for one, do not want innocent blood on my hands.’