Peter Tremayne - The Monk Who Vanished

‘You have seen such stones?’ asked Madagan. ‘They also embellished Ailbe’s crucifix.’

‘Oh yes. They are called emeralds.’

‘So the temporal value was great?’ persisted Eadulf.

‘Great enough but such value was of no significance compared with the symbolic value those Relics have to our abbey and to the kingdom of Muman.’

‘I have already informed Brother Eadulf of that significance,’ Fidelma affirmed.

Brother Madagan bowed his head. ‘Then you will understand, Noble Wolf, that the recovering of the reliquary and the Holy Relics are necessary for the well-being of this kingdom. Our people are much given to symbolic belief. They firmly accept that if the Relics are lost then harm will come to the kingdom which they will be unable to prevent.’

‘Was the chalice of great value?’ asked Eadulf.

‘It was also worked in silver and set with semi-precious stones. Yes, it was of great temporal value also.’

‘Who knows about their disappearance within the abbey?’ Fidelma asked.

‘Alas, we have not been able to keep it a secret from those who dwell in this abbey. After all, yesterday was the day when they should have been displayed to the brethren. While the abbot has attempted to prevent the news spreading outside the abbey walls, it will not belong before it does. The pilgrims leave here this morning en route to the coast. They will doubtless speak of it. Then there is the merchant from Cashel and his assistants. They will also talk. I believe that within the week it will be broadcast throughout the kingdom, perhaps even to the other kingdoms of Eireann. It will mark a time of danger for our people.’

Fidelma knew well the implications. She knew that there were many envious people who would like to see the overthrow of the Eóghanacht of Cashel. Especially, she had to admit, Donennach of the Uí Fidgente. He would not be unhappy if the kingdom fell. If people were alarmed by the disappearance of the Relics and so dismayed that they surrendered to the fates and had no will to defend themselves, then Cashel might expect attacks from without and subversion from within. She suddenly felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. If she did not solve this mystery, and solve it soon, it could lead to disaster for Cashel.

‘So, having found that the reliquary was missing, what did you do then?’ she asked.

‘I went straightaway to rouse the abbot,’ Brother Madagan replied.

‘You went straightaway to rouse Abbot Ségdae? Why?’

Brother Madagan looked at her with incomprehension at the question. ‘Why?’ he repeated.

‘Yes. Why didn’t you go to rouse Brother Mochta? He was Keeper of the Relics, after all?’

‘Ah! I see. Such considerations appear logical in retrospect. The abbot asked me the same question. I confess that in the shock of my discovery, logic had no relevance. I thought that the abbot should be the first to be informed.’

‘Very well. Then what happened?’

‘The abbot suggested that we inform Brother Mochta. We went to his chamber together to find that he had disappeared, leaving turmoil behind him. There were bloodstains in the room.’

Fidelma rose with an abruptness, surprising both Brother Madagan and Brother Eadulf.

‘Thank you, Brother. We will go to Brother Mochta’s chamber and examine it,’ she announced.

Brother Madagan rose as well. ‘The abbot has asked me to conduct you there,’ he said. He had brought the key to Brother Mochta’s chamber and he led the way keeping up a constant chatter by pointing out sites of interest in the abbey. Both Fidelma and Eadulf later agreed they had felt that the chatter appeared feigned for their benefit.

Fidelma stood on the threshold of Brother Mochta’s chamber, once again regarding the disorder with her keen eyes picking out the details.The room was in total disarray. She noticed that items of clothing were discarded on the floor. The straw mattress had been dragged half off the tiny wooden cot that provided the bed. There was, she saw, a stub of unlit candle toppled in a small pool of its own grease on the floor with its wooden holder nearby. There were even a few personal toilet items scattered here and there. There was a table by the bedside which, oddly, had not been knocked askew and on which was a solitary object. The end half of an arrow. Her eyes dwelt on the flight and its markings with immediate recognition. There were also some writing materials scattered in a corner and some pieces of vellum.

Brother Madagan was peering over her shoulder. ‘There, Sister, on the mattress. You may see the bloodstain which the Father Abbot and I noticed.’

‘I see it,’ replied Fidelma shortly. She made no move towards it. Then she turned to Brother Madagan.

‘Tell me, the chambers either side of this one … are they occupied?’

Brother Madagan nodded. ‘They are, but the brothers who sleep there have gone to the fields to gather herbs. One of them is our apothecary and mortician and the other is his assistant.’

‘So, are you saying that at the time that Brother Mochta apparently disappeared from this room, the chambers on either side were occupied?’

‘That is so.’

‘And no disturbance was reported to you or to the abbot?’ Her eyes flickered around the turmoil of the room.

‘Just so.’

Fidelma was silent for a moment and then said: ‘We need not keep you longer from your duties, Brother Madagan. Where can we find you when we are finished here?’

Brother Madagan tried to hide his disappointment at being so summarily dismissed. ‘In the refectory. We shall be bidding farewell to the pilgrims this morning.’

‘Very well. We will join you there shortly.’

Eadulf watched Brother Madagan disappear along the corridor before turning with a look of inquiry to Fidelma. She ignored him and turned back into the chamber. She stood in silence awhile and Eadulf knew better than to interrupt her thoughts. After awhile she moved inside the door, standing to one side.

‘Eadulf, come and take my place. Do not enter the room but stand there on the threshold and tell me your impressions.’

Puzzled, Eadulf went to stand on the threshold of the door withFidelma at his side. He let his gaze wander over the disordered room. That the room was in a chaotic state was obvious.

‘From the look of it, Mochta was forced from his chamber, having put up a fierce struggle.’

Fidelma inclined her head in approval. ‘From the look of the room,’ she repeated in a soft tone. ‘Yet no disturbance was reported by the occupants in the adjoining chambers.’

Eadulf glanced at her quickly, picking up the emphasis. ‘You mean that this scene has been …’ he struggled for the word. ‘That it has been purposefully arranged?’

‘I think so. Look at the way everything is cast around the room. Look at the mattress and clothes taken from the bed. It all indicates a fierce struggle which must logically have taken place sometime after Vespers and an hour or so before dawn. If such a struggle, as represented here, really took place, the noise would have disturbed even the deepest sleeper on either side. Yet no one reported being disturbed.’

‘We should make sure by asking the occupants of the adjoining chambers,’ Eadulf said.

Fidelma smiled. ‘My mentor, the Brehon Morann, said, “He who knows nothing doubts nothing”. Well done, Eadulf. We must indeed check to see what they say. But I am working on the probability that they were not disturbed by any noise in this room. And a reasonable probability is the only certainty we have at this time.’

Eadulf gestured helplessly. ‘So are we saying that Brother Mochta arranged this scene? But why?’

‘Perhaps someone else arranged it. We cannot form a conclusion as yet.’