Peter Tremayne - Absolution by Murder

Oswy interrupted.

‘I do not know Greek. Who is Sappho?’

‘An ancient Greek poetess, surely,’ Eadulf interposed.

‘A lyric poetess born at Eresus on the island of Lesbos. She gathered a circle of women and girls around her and her poems are full of the passionate intensity of her love for them and theirs for her. The poet Anacreon says that it was because of Sappho that the name of the island, Lesbos, connotes female homosexuality.’

Abbess Hilda appeared distressed.

‘Are you telling us that Sister Gwid developed a … an … an unnatural love for Étain?’

‘Yes. Gwid was desperate in her passion. She demonstrated her love by giving Étain copies of two of Sappho’s poems. Étain gave one to her own lover, Athelnoth, presumably to explain to him what was happening. He indicated as much to us. The other she kept. At some stage, just before the opening of the synod, Étain told Gwid that she could not respond to Gwid’s love – that, indeed, she loved Athelnoth and, after the synod, they were going to cohabit in a double house.’

‘Gwid went berserk,’ interposed Eadulf hurriedly. ‘You saw just how quickly she lost her temper? She was a strong woman, physically stronger than a lot of us, I’ll warrant. She attacked Étain, a slightly built woman, and cut her throat. She took Étain’s betrothal brooch, given her by Athelnoth, and tried to take back the two poems that she had given Étain. She could only find one, for the other was already in Athelnoth’s keeping.’

‘I remember that she arrived late in the sacrarium on that first day of the debate,’ Fidelma said. ‘She had been hurrying and was red in the face and breathless. She had just come from killing Étain.’

‘While Étain remained celibate, Gwid was more or less content to remain her doting slave. Just being near her was probably enough. But when Étain told Gwid that she loved Athelnoth—’ Eadulf shrugged.

‘There is no rage so powerful as hate born of scorned love,’ Fidelma commented. ‘Gwid was a powerful young woman but she was intelligent and cunning as well, for she cleverly tried to implicate Athelnoth. Then she realised that Étain must have given him the other poem. And rage again possessed her. That Étain could betray love and hold her up to ridicule before this mere man! Indeed, she even told me that she considered that Étain had found absolution for what Gwid saw as her sin in this murder. Oh, not so directly was this said but I should have interpreted it correctly when it was said.’

Oswy was bemused.

‘So Gwid also felt compelled to kill Athelnoth?’

Fidelma nodded.

‘She was strong enough, after she had knocked him unconscious, to hoist his body on to the hook in his cubiculum to choke him to death and make it seem like suicide.’

‘But,’ interposed Eadulf again, ‘Sister Athelswith heard the sounds of Athelnoth being killed and came to the door. Gwid had time to hide under the bed as the domina came into the cubiculum. She saw Athelnoth at once and ran off to raise the alarm. Gwid was now in a dilemma. She had no time to look for the vellum with her second poem on it.’

‘But how did Seaxwulf come to get the brooch and poem, the other brooch and poem?’ Wighard enquired. ‘You said that Gwid had taken this from Étain’s body.’

Sister Athelswith slid back into the room and motioned Fidelma to continue.

‘Brother Seaxwulf suffered an affliction. He had the mind of a magpie. He loved to pick up pretty things. He was rebuked and chastised for attempting to steal from the brothers’ dormitorium. Wilfrid had him beaten with a birch stick. Later, in spite of this, Seaxwulf must have searched the dormitorium of the anchoresses. He had an eye for pretty jewellery and discovered Étain’s brooch among Gwid’s personal things. He found it wrapped in a Greek poem called “Love’s Attack”. He took them both. The poem intrigued him. He looked it up in the librarium and found that it was a poem by Sappho. He even asked me about the custom of exchanging gifts between lovers. I did not see what he was driving at until too late. Seaxwulf must have suspected Gwid. When he knew Athelnoth had been killed he came to tell me. He found me in the refectory with sisters close by. In his anxiety to be understood he addressed me in Greek to arrange the meeting. But he forgot that Gwid, who was sitting within earshot, knew Greek better than he did. It was a fatal mistake. Gwid had to silence him.

‘She followed him, knocked him on the head and then killed him in the wine cask by holding him under the liquid. I came along too soon for her to search the body. In my surprise at discovering the body I slipped and fell off that stool by accident knocking myself out. My cry brought Eadulf and Sister Athelswith into the apotheca. They took me to my cubiculum. This gave Gwid time to retrieve Seaxwulf’s body and drag it along the passage to the defectorum on the cliff edge and throw it into the sea. Not before she searched it, of course.’

‘So why had she missed the brooch and poem on Seaxwulf’s body?’ demanded Abbess Hilda. ‘She had enough time while she was dragging his body from the cask and transporting it along the tunnel.’

Fidelma smiled wryly.

‘Seaxwulf followed the latest fashion. He had a new-style sacculus sewn into his tunica. This was where he had placed both the poem and the brooch. Poor Gwid did not know of the existence of the sacculus. But she was not worried, having disposed, as she thought, of the body and any evidence it held by throwing it into the sea. She did not realise that the tide would wash the body close inshore along the harbour within six to twelve hours.’

‘You say that Sister Gwid was able to drag the body of Seaxwulf through the tunnel to the sea. Was she really that powerful?’ demanded Hilda. ‘And how did she, a stranger, know of the defectorum’s existence? It is for our male brethren only and usually only male guests are informed of its existence.’

‘Sister Athelswith told me that, to keep male modesty intact, the sisters who worked in the kitchens were told about it so that they would not wander along it by mistake. After Étain’s death, Sister Gwid took to working in the kitchens to occupy her time.’

The elderly domina coloured.

‘It is true,’ she confessed. ‘Sister Gwid came to ask me if she could work in the kitchens while she was here. I felt sorry for her and agreed. The mistress of the kitchens obviously warned her about the male defectorum.’

‘We were distracted, for a while, by the politics of your son Alhfrith,’ Eadulf conceded. ‘We were misled for some time believing that he or Taran or Wulfric might have been involved in the matter.’

Sister Fidelma spread her hands with a gesture of finality.

‘There you have it.’

Eadulf smiled grimly.

‘A woman whose love is scorned is like a stream dammed by a log, deep, muddy and troubled and withal revolving with powerful turbulence. Such was Gwid.’

Colmán sighed.

‘Publicius Syrus said that a woman loves or hates, she knows no other course.’

Abbess Abbe laughed scornfully.

‘Syrus was a fool like most men.’

Oswy rose to his feet.

‘Well, it took a woman to track down this fiend,’ he observed. Then he grimaced. ‘Even so, had not Gwid been of a volatile temper, all you had was circumstantial accusations. True they all fitted into a complete pattern but if Gwid had stood and denied everything could you have convicted her?’

Fidelma smiled thinly.

‘We shall never know that now, Oswy of Northumbria. But I would say yes. Do you know much about the art of calligraphy?’