Peter Tremayne - Absolution by Murder

‘I speak only what is true. Have faith. I was instructed to go to the woods beyond Witebia and in a clearing a voice told me to pick up a splinter from the ground for it was the lignum Sanctae Crucis. Then the voice told me to go and preach to those misled and confused. Have faith and all will be revealed!’

‘Did Étain have faith?’ queried Fidelma gently.

Agatho turned towards her, his eyes still hooded.

‘Alas, she did not. She was still bound for she could not see the truth.’

‘Bound?’ Eadulf sounded more than confused.

‘Did not the blessed apostle John say “the truth shall make you free”? She was confined. She had not the faith. The great Augustine wrote that faith is to believe what you do not yet see; the reward for that faith is to see what you believe.’

‘What did you do when the Abbess Étain rejected your argument?’ Eadulf said hurriedly.

Agatho drew himself up in outraged dignity.

‘I withdrew, what else should I do? I did not want to contaminate myself with an unbeliever.’

‘How long were you with Étain of Kildare?’

The man shrugged.

‘No more than ten minutes or less. I showed her the true cross and told her that Christ spoke through me and that she must accept Rome. When she treated me as a child, I withdrew. I knew she was beyond all hope of salvation. That is all.’

Eadulf exchanged another glance with Fidelma and smiled at Agatho.

‘Very well. We have no more questions. You may go now.’

Agatho slipped the sliver of wood back into his crumena.

‘You both believe now – now that you have seen the true cross?’

Eadulf kept his smile fixed, perhaps a little too fixed.

‘Of course. We will speak with you about this later, Agatho.’

When the priest left the room, Eadulf turned with a worried glance to Fidelma.

‘Mad! The man is absolutely mad.’

‘If we remember that we are all born mad,’ replied Fidelma phlegmatically, ‘then many of the mysteries of the world are explained.’

‘But with such attitudes this Agatho might well have killed the abbess when she refused to accept his faith.’

‘Perhaps. Somehow I am not convinced. But out of all this there is one firm conclusion we can make.’

Eadulf stared at her.

‘It is obvious.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘Sister Athelswith, in observing all the visitors to Étain’s cubiculum, did not see every visitor. And I doubt whether she saw the visitor who killed Étain.’

There was a soft knock at the door and Sister Athelswith put her head into the chamber.

‘Oswy the king asks that you join him in Mother Hilda’s chambers immediately,’ she said apprehensively.

Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf stood silently before the king. Oswy was alone in the room and turned from the window, where he had been gazing down at the harbour below. The frown of anxiety that he wore lightened a little.

‘I sent to ask you whether you have any news for me yet? Are you any closer to discovering the culprit?’

Fidelma heard the stress in his voice.

‘We have nothing concrete to report as yet, Oswy of Northumbria,’ she replied.

The king bit his lip. The lines on his face deepened.

‘Have you nothing to tell me at all?’ There was almost a pleading tone in his voice.

‘Nothing of use.’ Fidelma remained calm. ‘We must proceed cautiously. Is time suddenly pressing that you wish the matter to be resolved more quickly than you did before?’

The king heaved his great shoulders in an indeterminable gesture.

‘You are ever perceptive, Fidelma. Yes. Tensions are growing.’ Oswy hesitated with a sigh. ‘There is civil war in the air. My son Alhfrith now plots against me. There are rumours that he is gathering warriors to drive out the Irish religious by force while my daughter Aelflaed is rumoured to be gathering those who support the church of Columba to defend the abbeys against Alhfrith. All it needs now is but a single spark and this whole kingdom will erupt in flames. Both sides accuse the other of the death of Étain of Kildare. What am I to tell them?’

There was a desperation in the king’s voice. Fidelma felt almost sorry for him.

‘We can still tell you nothing, my lord,’ Eadulf insisted.

‘But you have questioned everyone who saw her just before her death.’

Fidelma parted her lips in a mirthless smile.

‘Doubtless this has been reported to you from a good source. Perhaps Sister Athelswith?’

Oswy made an uncomfortable gesture of affirmation.

‘Is it a secret then?’

‘No secret, Oswy,’ replied Fidelma. ‘But Sister Athelswith ought to be more cautious than to report our activities lest they come to the wrong ears. There is still one person whom we have not yet questioned.’

‘I asked Sister Athelswith specifically to let me know when you had finished your questioning,’ Oswy said defensively.

‘You said just now that your son Alhfrith plots against you,’ Fidelma said. ‘Did you mean that seriously?’

Oswy raised his arms and let them fall in a motion indicating indecision.

‘A king has no friends in ambitious sons,’ he said heavily.

‘What ambition does a king’s son have but to be king?’

‘Alhfrith wishes to be king?’

‘I made him petty king of Deira to contain his ambition but he wishes the throne of the entire kingdom of Northumbria. I know it. He knows I know it. We play a game of dutiful son and father. But the day may well come …’

He shrugged with eloquence.

‘An investigation like this takes time,’ Fidelma said soothingly. ‘There are many considerations to be taken into account.’

Oswy stared at her for a moment and then grimaced.

‘You are correct, of course, sister. I have no right to put pressure on you. Your search is for truth. But mine is to keep a kingdom from being divided and destroying itself.’

‘Do you really think that the people are so firmly convinced by one faction or the other as to fight each other?’ queried Eadulf.

Oswy shook his head.

‘It is the people manipulating religion not the religion itself that threatens to break the peace of this land. And Alhfrith is not above using religion to motivate people to help him in his search for power. The longer people speculate on who killed Étain of Kildare, the longer they will have to formulate preposterous theories to fuel their prejudices.’

‘All we can say, Oswy, is that as soon as we are near the solution, you will be the first to know,’ Fidelma said.

‘Very well. I will remain content with that assurance. But remember what I say – there are many rumours being voiced abroad. Much depends on this assembly and the decisions we reach here.’

As they walked back through the cloisters from the Abbess Hilda’s chambers to the domus hospitale Eadulf suddenly said:

‘I think your suspicions are right, Fidelma. We should speak with this Taran.’

Fidelma raised her brows with a mocking smile.

‘And you know what my suspicions are, Eadulf?’

‘You believe that there is a plot afoot, hatched by Alhfrith of Deira, to overthrow Oswy and use the tensions of this synod as the means to create civil war.’

‘I do believe that,’ Fidelma confirmed.

‘I think you believe that Alhfrith, working through Wulfric and perhaps Taran, had Étain of Kildare killed to create this tension.’

‘It is a possibility. And we must endeavour to discover if it is true or not.’

Fidelma and Eadulf were entering the officium of Sister Athelswith, which they had made their centre, when the solemn toll of the midnight Angelus bell began to sound.

Fidelma heaved a sigh as Eadulf immediately took out his prayer beads.