Peter Tremayne - The Haunted Abbot

‘It shall be done, Father Abbot,’ muttered the dominus, casting an almost apologetic glance at Eadulf. He moved off to do the abbot’s bidding.

The abbot regarded Eadulf with a look in which dislike was tinged with something else. Eadulf suddenly realised that the man’s eyes held fear. Abbot Cild was actually afraid of him.

‘You will return to the guests’ chambers and remain there until I send for you. That I shall do when I am ready to hear the charges formally and give judgment.’

Eadulf was astounded. ‘What of my right to present a defence for Sister Fidelma and myself?’

‘You will have that right at the proper time.’

‘But have I not the right to my freedom in order to investigate and prepare a defence?’ he demanded.

Abbot Cild’s eyes narrowed. ‘You have no right to freedom now. After this desecration you have no right to freedom at all. Were I a less benign man, I would have you both taken and burnt to death immediately for the evil you have visited on this abbey.’

Eadulf snapped his mouth shut. He realised that there wouldbe no moving this man’s locked mind. At that moment he knew that Brother Higbald was probably right. He would have to take Fidelma to safety as soon as possible. Yet, coming out of such a fever, it would be reckless in the extreme to attempt to move her into the cold, snowbound world outside without a few days to recuperate.

‘Very well, Abbot Cild,’ he replied slowly. ‘I see that you are intent on pursuing your course against us, blind and malicious as that course is. I shall not come out of the door of the guests’ chambers until I am summoned to come through it. You accuse us of evil, yet it is a perverse course upon which you have embarked. In appealing to whatever humanity is left in you, I ask only this — it will take a few days for Fidelma of Cashel to recover from the infirmity she has suffered. In the name of the God that you claim to represent, allow us that time for her to recover before you drag her forth to enact your blind cruelty.’

Eadulf spoke evenly but his voice was filled with a vehemence which made Abbot Cild blink.

‘I am not an inhumane man,’ the abbot replied defensively. Eadulf noticed that the fear had not left his eyes. ‘But I cannot allow further evil to be visited on this place. The woman will have two days to recover — no more. Then you can prepare to defend yourselves.’

He turned, finding the dominus, Brother Willibrod, returning with several of the brethren with pails and brushes ready to clean up the mess on the high altar.

‘Brother Willibrod, you may escort Brother Eadulf back to the guests’ chambers. He is to remain there until further orders from me.’

The dominus bowed his head and then gestured to his companions to continue with their work while the abbot left the chapel. Brother Willibrod then glanced apologetically at Eadulf and fell in step beside him.

‘I do not know what to say, Brother,’ he muttered. ‘These happenings are strangely disconcerting.’

‘You surely don’t believe that the shade of Gélgeis is haunting these walls, do you?’ Eadulf demanded. ‘There is a human agency at work here.’

Brother Willibrod shrugged. ‘Yesterday, I recognised yourdescription of the woman you said you had seen outside the chapel.’

‘I saw you were disturbed by it,’ agreed Eadulf.

Brother Willibrod pursed his lips for a moment.

‘In truth, it did sound like the Lady Gélgeis. And what young Redwald saw seems to confirm that opinion.’

‘So you do believe that the shade of Gélgeis is haunting the abbot? Why?’

Brother Willibrod pulled a face, but Eadulf was not sure what it was meant to express.

‘I would say that it is precisely the sort of action Gélgeis would take if she had the power to do so.’

‘I don’t understand.’

Brother Willibrod halted and suddenly looked around with a quick, conspiratorial glance.

‘I will tell you the truth. The lady Gélgeis was not the most malleable of women. She was hard, dominant, and ruthless. I might even say that I could understand if Cild was pushed so far from propriety as to rid himself of her.’ He hesitated and a flush came over his face. ‘I am not saying that he did,’ he added quickly. ‘In fact, I do not believe that he did. But the lady Gélgeis was spiteful and immoral.’

Eadulf stared at him in surprise.

‘Did you know her well?’

‘As well as my role of dominus here would allow.’

‘How long have you been dominus here?’

‘I was in the abbey when Cild and Gélgeis came here.’

‘Did anyone else share your views about her character?’

Willibrod sniffed with disdain.

‘You will have to ask them, although most here did not know her as long and as well as I did. I have my opinion. It is not an opinion that I share with Abbot Cild, so I wish you not to reveal that I held his wife in such low esteem.’ He paused and indicated along the passage with a jerk of his head to where Brother Beornwulf was seated on a three-legged wooden stool, his massive arms folded across his chest. ‘You will remain in your rooms in accordance with the abbot’s orders. I am sorry that things have come to this, Brother Eadulf.’

He turned and walked swiftly away.

Eadulf returned to Fidelma’s chamber and found himself feeling cold apprehension. Spirits walking abroad, desecration of a high altar, and people who had known the abbot’s wife in life swearing that it was her form returned to haunt him. In spite of his dread he went to check on Fidelma and found her deep in a natural sleep.

He sat down in his chair and tried to pick up his scattered thoughts.

There was no decision to be made now. They had to accept Brother Higbald’s suggestion. Safety came before the solution of this mystery. His mind full once more of conflicting thoughts, he felt into another troubled slumber.

When he awoke again, a brilliant morning light illuminated the room. He realised that he had been disturbed by young Brother Redwald who had entered bearing a tray with two steaming bowls, some bread and apples on it. He started up.

The young boy smiled apologetically. He seemed embarrassed.

‘I have brought you and the Sister breakfast, Brother.’

Eadulf examined him cautiously.

‘How do you feel now?’ he asked.

The boy set down the tray.

‘I apologise for my condition of last night. I was truly alarmed. I have calmed down this morning and am able to fulfil my duties.’ He bobbed nervously and moved to the door. ‘If there is anything else you need, Brother Beornwulf will be outside the door.’

He hesitated still, as if trying to make up his mind. Then he smiled quickly at Eadulf.

‘You have shown consideration to me, Brother. I am sorry to see you in this predicament. I hope no action of mine has brought it on you. But I did see the lady Gélgeis, I swear it. If she be spirit, then she seemed to mean me no harm, so I regret if harm will follow.’

Eadulf responded reassuringly.

‘Do not worry, Redwald. You cannot be held responsible for the actions of others.’

When the boy made to leave, Eadulf stayed him.

‘Did you like the lady Gélgeis?’ he asked.

The boy looked bemused for a moment and then nodded.

‘She was kind to me. I have told you that she nursed me when I was ill.’

‘I remember. You were a boy newly come to the abbey. So you liked her?’

‘I think I did.’

‘Aren’t you sure?’

‘I thought she was an angel, when I was ill. But later on, when I was well and growing, I found that she was distant, as if she cared little about me.’

‘Are you scared of seeing her image now?’

The boy considered the question and then shook his head.