Peter Tremayne - The Monk Who Vanished

‘No, I think they were Uí Fidgente,’ replied Brother Mochta. ‘Therewere stories early this year that the Uí Fidgente were seeking some alliance with the Uí Néill kings of the north against Cashel. They have not forgiven Colgú for their defeat at Cnoc Aine and the death of their king. They would join with the Uí Néill and Armagh to see Cashel weakened and defeated. How better to defeat the kingdom than to divide it?’

‘You may well be right, Mochta,’greed Fidelma. She paused as if a thought struck her. ‘You are a close friend of Bardan, of course?’

‘Yes. Of course.’

‘Being a good penman, you helped Bardan in preparing a book on the properties of herbs?’

Brother Mochta was surprised. ‘How did you know that?’ he demanded.

‘It’s of no consequence. Don’t you think it curious that Bardan has not put in an appearance and-’ she glanced through the mouth of the cave towards the sky — ‘it must be about midday?’

Brother Mochta frowned. ‘It is a worry,’ he confessed. ‘He was going to see Finguine this morning to tell him our story. That is all I know.’

Fidelma stood up and went to the mouth of the cave. She negotiated some boxes and stared down the hillside. At the foot of the hill, woodland stretched as far as the banks of the River Ara. Fidelma turned back with decision.

‘Mochta, you are an important witness for Cashel. We must get you there immediately for you will be better protected by my brother’s warriors. You and the reliquary.’

‘What about Bardan?’ protested Mochta.

‘We will see to him later. Right now, do you think you can ride?’

‘Not all the way to Cashel,’ he protested.

‘Then we will take it in easy stages,’ she assured him. ‘The worst part of the journey is for you to leave this cave with Brother Eadulf here and walk it down the hill towards that wood there.’ She turned to Eadulf. ‘Let no one see you until I come along with the horses.’

Eadulf was bemused. ‘Where are you getting horses from?’

‘I will pick up our horses from the abbey.’ She pointed to a lamp by Mochta’s palliasse. ‘If you will lend me that lamp, I will go back through the tunnels and come back as quickly as I can by the track around the bottom of the hill. Do not bring anything other than the reliquary, Mochta. You may also trust Brother Eadulf here with your life. In fact, that is what it amounts to. Understand this clearly, Mochta, every minute you now stay here, in this cave, you are in the most deadly danger.’

Fidelma entered the side gate into the herb garden. Obviously, Brother Bardán had still not returned this way; the bolts were withdrawn as earlier. She made her way immediately to Abbot Ségdae’s chamber and knocked cautiously upon the door. The elderly, hawk-like abbot was seated in his high-backed, carved wooden chair before his fire, his chin resting on his hands, his eyes staring meditatively into the flames. He looked up as she entered with an expression of some hope.

‘What news, Fidelma?’ he asked.

Fidelma did not like telling lies to the man whom she had known all her life and who was more like an uncle to her than merely a religious adviser.

‘Little enough,’ she said cautiously.

The abbot’s face fell.

‘However,’ she went on, ‘I believe that I will be able to supply all the answers to these matters when the Brehons meet at Cashel in a few days from now.’

Ségdae’s face resumed a hopeful look. ‘You mean that you can discover the whereabouts of the Holy Relics of Ailbe?’

‘That I can guarantee,’ she said briskly. ‘But I want no one else to know. Say nothing to anyone, not even Brother Madagan.’

The abbot was reluctant to make such a promise.

‘It is a matter affecting the morale of the abbey, Fidelma. Surely I can give the community something to hope for?’

Fidelma shook her head. ‘There are many dark forces at work here which may mean the downfall of this kingdom. I need your solemn word on this, Ségdae.’

‘Then, of course, you shall have it.’

‘Brother Eadulf and I are returning to Cashel immediately for there is no more that I can do here. However, I would like you to start your own journey to Cashel tomorrow.’

The abbot looked surprised. ‘Why must I come?’

‘Have you forgotten the protocol, Ségdae? You are the Comarb of Ailbe, the principal abbot-bishop of Muman. When the court of Cashelis in session over such a serious matter, you, as the King’s principal bishop, must sit at his side.’

Ségdae sighed softly. ‘I had forgotten about the hearing. The loss of the Relics and the attack on Imleach drove it from my mind. Then there is the matter of Brother Bardan.’

‘What about Brother Bardan?’ she asked innocently.

‘He has not been seen all morning. Do you remember that you asked me where he was? He seems to have vanished … just like Brother Mochta’

Fidelma compressed her lips. ‘I do not think the circumstances will be found to be similar. I have a feeling that all will be answered in Cashel.’

‘Should I alert your cousin, Finguine? His men are still in the township helping to repair the damage of the raid.’

‘You may tell Finguine. If I do not see him as I leave, I shall see him at Cashel at the hearing. It is sad that there has been so much destruction.’

‘Well, there are small mercies. It seems Brother Madagan has been able to make a donation of silver coins which will go some way to mending the destruction.’ He gestured at a small bag on the table.

‘May I?’ Fidelma took the bag and dropped a few of the coins onto her palm. She stared at them. ‘How did Madagan come into this largesse?’ she asked.

‘I believe he said something about a relative from the north.’ Ségdae barely paused. ‘Are you really confident about your ability to find a resolution to these mysteries?’ he pressed.

Fidelma replaced the coins and put the purse back on the table.

‘You know me better than that, Ségdae. I am never confident until after the event. Remember Corinthians , one, chapter ten, verse twelve?’

Fidelma knew that Ségdae had an almost encyclopedic mind when it came to scripture. The abbot answered her smile.

‘If you feel sure that you are standing firm, beware!’ he quoted. ‘You may fall.’

‘So, I will not commit myself but I shall say that the probability is that all will be resolved.’

‘You have not garnered your reputation for no reason at all,’ Ségdae remarked. ‘When will you and our Saxon brother leave?’

‘I am going to start out at once. Do not worry, Ségdae. All will be well … eventually.’

‘I shall be in Cashel on the day of the hearing, then.’

‘Bring Brother Madagan with you. I might need his testimony.’

‘Will you need Brother Bardan, if he can be found?’

‘If he can be found,’ affirmed Fidelma.

Ségdae rose and offered her his hand. ‘Where is our Saxon brother?’

‘I shall meet him along the way,’ Fidelma replied hastily. ‘Farewell, Ségdae. Until we see each other in Cashel.’

She went on to the guests’ hostel and bundled her few belongings into her saddle bags. Eadulf had moved into a nearby chamber after the first night, following the departure of the pilgrims. It took her a moment to pack his saddle bag. She remembered to take the pilgrim’s staff of which he had become so fond. She was glad that Sister Scothnat was not about for she did not want to go to the trouble of having to explain her intentions again.

She took the bags and made her way to the stables.

Brother Tomar was at work, as usual, feeding the horses there.

‘Are you leaving us?’ he asked immediately as his eyes fell on the saddle bags.