Peter Tremayne - The Haunted Abbot

When Brother Willibrod opened his mouth, Sigeric held up his hand, palm outwards.

‘No, I do not want to hear. Save your excuses for the bishop of your faith. I will merely report on what I have found. Meantime,you will remain here in charge of the brethren of this place until you hear from the bishop. It will be your task to set this abbey to rights.’

He rose from his seat and moved forward to Fidelma with his hand outstretched.

‘I have learnt much in the last few hours, Fidelma of Cashel. I apologise for my cultural ignorance. I regret it. May your God be on all the roads you travel. You, too, Brother Eadulf. You have a companion whose beauty is matched by her wisdom.’

Signalling to Werferth to accompany him, the old man turned and left the chapel.

Brother Willibrod turned to his brethren and started to issue orders, leaving Fidelma and Eadulf to exit into the main quadrangle together. They emerged in the pale sunshine of the late winter afternoon. Another hour and it would be dark. Mul the farmer was waiting for them.

‘Well,’ the farmer smiled nervously, looking from one to the other, ‘I presume that neither of you wants to stay another night in this evil place? There is always a warm bed in my farmhouse. A warm bed, good sweet cider and a wholesome meal.’

Fidelma exchanged a quick look with Eadulf and nodded slightly.

Mul grinned broadly. ‘In that case, I’ll go and find those ponies of yours. I don’t think your countrymen will be wanting them back, Sister. They’ve all set out for Tunstall in a great hurry. I’ll meet you back here in a moment.’

Fidelma sat down on the stone bench in the quadrangle and looked around at the oppressive dark walls of the abbey.

‘A sad business, Eadulf. Truly sad.’

‘Will you come on to Seaxmund’s Ham, then?’ Eadulf suddenly asked. ‘You have not seen where I was born. Not that there is much to see. Poor Botulf is gone and he was the friend of my youth. Nor is there anyone left there whom I can call kin. Nevertheless, I would like to see the place as I am so close.’

Fidelma smiled softly at him.

‘Indeed, since we are so close, I will not refuse to come with you, Eadulf,’ she said quietly. ‘After all, it is your birthplace.’

‘And after that, what then?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘After that?’ The corners of Fidelma’s mouth turned downwards with a suggestion of her old humour. ‘I want to return to my brother’s kingdom. I want my baby to be born in Cashel.’