Read Absolution by Murder Online
Authors: Peter Tremayne
Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #Church History, #Fiction, #tpl, #Mystery, #Historical, #Clerical Sleuth, #Medieval Ireland
Absolution by Murder (10 page)
Fidelma had followed Athelswith’s recitation with some amusement. The old woman was clearly something of a busybody, keeping track of every visitor to her guest house as well as their business.
‘So? This Agatho, so far as you know, was the last to see the Abbess Étain alive?’
‘If he
was
her last visitor of the day,’ interrupted Eadulf hurriedly. There was a defensive tone in his voice.
was
her last visitor of the day,’ interrupted Eadulf hurriedly. There was a defensive tone in his voice.
Sister Fidelma smiled softly.
‘Just so.’
Sister Athelswith glanced unhappily from one to the other.
‘I saw no other visitors after Brother Agatho,’ she replied firmly.
‘And are you in a position to see all visitors?’ demanded Eadulf.
‘Only when I am in my
officium,’
she replied, colouring a little. ‘I have much to do. Being the
domina
of the guests’ quarters is a great responsibility. In normal times we provide for the hospitality of forty pilgrims at one time. I have one brother and three sisters to help me in the discharge of my duties. There is a need to clean the
dormitoria
and the
cubicula,
to prepare beds and assure ourselves that the needs of prominent visitors have been met. So I am often in the hostel area ensuring that our tasks are carried out. But when I am in my
officium
I cannot help but observe who passes to and fro to the guests’ quarters.’
officium,’
she replied, colouring a little. ‘I have much to do. Being the
domina
of the guests’ quarters is a great responsibility. In normal times we provide for the hospitality of forty pilgrims at one time. I have one brother and three sisters to help me in the discharge of my duties. There is a need to clean the
dormitoria
and the
cubicula,
to prepare beds and assure ourselves that the needs of prominent visitors have been met. So I am often in the hostel area ensuring that our tasks are carried out. But when I am in my
officium
I cannot help but observe who passes to and fro to the guests’ quarters.’
Fidelma smiled in mollification. ‘And it is good luck for us that you do so.’
‘Would you take oath, sister,’ pressed Eadulf a little aggressively, ‘that no one else visited Abbess Étain before her body was discovered?’
Sister Athelswith brought her chin up stubbornly.
‘Of course not. As I said at the beginning, we are free to enter when and how we please. I am only sure that the people that I have named entered the Abbess of Kildare’s
cubiculum.’
cubiculum.’
‘And when was the body discovered and who by?’
‘I, myself, discovered the body at half past the hour of five o’clock this afternoon.’
Fidelma was astonished and showed it.
‘How can you be so certain of the hour?’
Sister Athelswith swelled with visible pride.
‘Among the duties of the
domina
of the
domus hospitale
of Streoneshalh is that of time-keeper. It is my task to ensure that our clepsydra functions accurately.’
domina
of the
domus hospitale
of Streoneshalh is that of time-keeper. It is my task to ensure that our clepsydra functions accurately.’
Brother Eadulf was bewildered.
‘Your … what?’
‘Clepsydra is a Greek word,’ Fidelma explained, allowing a slight patronising tone to enter her voice.
‘One of our brethren brought it back from the east,’ Sister Athelswith said proudly. ‘It is a mechanism by which time is measured by the discharge of water.’
‘And exactly how did you note the time of discovery?’ pressed Eadulf.
‘I had just made my check on the clepsydra when a messenger from the
sacrarium
came to inform me that the assembly had opened but there was no sign of the Abbess of Kildare. I went to her
cubiculum
to summon her. That is when I found her and sent the messenger straight away to Abbess Hilda. By our clepsydra, the time was lacking a half hour to the sounding of the evening Angelus bell, which task I also have to oversee as time-keeper of Streoneshalh.’
sacrarium
came to inform me that the assembly had opened but there was no sign of the Abbess of Kildare. I went to her
cubiculum
to summon her. That is when I found her and sent the messenger straight away to Abbess Hilda. By our clepsydra, the time was lacking a half hour to the sounding of the evening Angelus bell, which task I also have to oversee as time-keeper of Streoneshalh.’
‘That certainly agrees with the time that the messenger arrived in the assembly hall and informed the Abbess Hilda,’ Eadulf confirmed.
‘I was there also,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘And you, Sister Athelswith, you disturbed nothing? All was left exactly as you found it in Étain’s cell?’
The
domina
of the
domus hospitale
nodded emphatically.
domina
of the
domus hospitale
nodded emphatically.
‘I disturbed nothing.’
Sister Fidelma bit her lip thoughtfully.
‘Well, the shadows are lengthening. I think we should retrace our footsteps to the abbey,’ she said, after a moment’s pause. ‘We should continue by seeking out this priest, Agatho, and seeing what he has to say.’
A figure was hurrying towards them through the gloom from the direction of the abbey gates. It was one of the brethren, a thick-set, moon-faced young man.
‘Ah, brother, sisters. The Abbess Hilda has sent me in great haste to search for you.’
He paused a moment to recover his wheezy breath.
‘Well?’ demanded Fidelma.
‘I have to tell you that the murderer of the Abbess Étain has been discovered and is even now under lock and key within the abbey.’
Fidelma entered Abbess Hilda’s chamber, closely followed by Eadulf. The abbess was seated while before her stood a tall young man with blond hair and a scar on his face. Fidelma recognized him immediately as the man Brother Taran had identified in the
sacrarium
as Oswy’s eldest son, Alhfrith. She had an immediate impression, observing him close up, that the scar suited him well, for his features, though handsome, gave an indefinable impression of cruelty – perhaps because the lips were thin and sneering and the eyes ice-blue, cold and lifeless as if they were the eyes of a corpse.
sacrarium
as Oswy’s eldest son, Alhfrith. She had an immediate impression, observing him close up, that the scar suited him well, for his features, though handsome, gave an indefinable impression of cruelty – perhaps because the lips were thin and sneering and the eyes ice-blue, cold and lifeless as if they were the eyes of a corpse.
‘This is Alhfrith of Deira,’ announced the abbess.
Brother Eadulf immediately bowed low in the manner of the Saxons when greeting their princes, but Fidelma remained upright, merely giving a hint of a nod of respectful acknowledgment. She would do no more than that even when meeting a provincial king of Ireland, for her rank entitled her to speak on a level with kings, even the High King himself.
Alhfrith, son of Oswy, glanced briefly at Sister Fidelma in disinterest and then proceeded to address himself to Brother Eadulf in Saxon. Fidelma had some knowledge of the language, but the delivery was too fast and accented for her to understand a word. She raised a hand and interrupted the heir-apparent of Northumbria.
‘It would be better,’ she said in Latin, ‘if we observed a
language common to all. I have no Saxon. If we do not have a common language then, Eadulf, it behoves you to translate.’
language common to all. I have no Saxon. If we do not have a common language then, Eadulf, it behoves you to translate.’
Alhfrith paused in his delivery and made a noise conveying annoyance at being interrupted.
The Abbess Hilda suppressed a smile.
‘As Alhfrith speaks no Latin, I suggest we continue to use Irish as a language we can all understand,’ she said in that language.
Alhfrith turned to Fidelma, his brows drawn together.
‘I have a little Irish, taught by the monks of Columba when they brought Christianity to this land. If you have no Saxon, then I shall speak this language.’ The words were slow and thickly accented, but his knowledge was adequate.
Fidelma made a gesture with her hand, inviting him to continue. To her irritation he turned back to Eadulf and continued to address his remarks to him.
‘There is little need to continue your investigation. We have the culprit locked away.’
Brother Eadulf was about to reply when Sister Fidelma interrupted.
‘Are we to be informed who the culprit is?’
Alhfrith blinked in surprise. Saxon women knew their place. But he had some experience of the boldness of Irish women and had learnt from his step-mother, Fín, something of their arrogance in considering themselves equal to men. He swallowed the sharp reply that rose in his mouth and his eyes narrowed as he gazed at Fidelma.
‘Surely. A beggar from Ireland. One called Canna, the son of Canna.’
Fidelma raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘How was he discovered?’
Brother Eadulf felt uncomfortable about the challenging note in his colleague’s voice. He was accustomed to the manner and customs of Irish women in their own land but uneasy about such attitudes among his own people.
‘The discovery was made easily enough,’ replied Alhfrith coldly. ‘The man went round foretelling the day and time of the Abbess Étain’s death. He is either a great sorcerer or he is the murderer. As a Christian king adhering to Rome,’ he said emphatically, ‘I do not believe in sorcery. Therefore, the only way the man could foretell the day and time of the abbess’s death is if he were the perpetrator of the crime.’
Eadulf was nodding slowly at the logic, but Fidelma smiled sceptically at the Saxon prince.
‘Are there witnesses to the fact that he foretold the exact hour and manner of Abbess Étain’s death?’
Alhfrith gestured, a trifle dramatically, to Abbess Hilda.
‘There is a witness and one beyond reproach.’
Sister Fidelma turned questioningly to the abbess.
Hilda seem caught off guard and a little flustered.
‘It is true that yesterday morning this beggar was brought to me and foretold that blood would be spilt on this day.’
‘He was precise?’
Alhfrith hissed in irritation as Hilda shook her head.
‘In truth, all he told me was that blood would be spilt on the day the sun was blotted from the sky. A learned brother from Iona told me that this event did occur this very afternoon when the moon passed between us and the sun.’
Fidelma’s expression grew even more sceptical.
‘But did he name the Abbess Étain and the precise hour?’ she insisted.
‘Not to me—’ began Hilda.
‘But there are other witnesses who will swear he told them,’ interrupted Alhfrith. ‘Why do we waste time? Do you question my word?’
Sister Fidelma turned to the Saxon with a disarming smile. Only a close examination would have told how false the smile was.
‘Your word is not evidence in the legal sense, Alhfrith of Deira. Even under Saxon law, there must be direct evidence of the wrongdoing and not merely hearsay or conjecture. As I understand it, you are merely reporting what someone else has told you. You have not heard this man’s words directly.’
Alhfrith’s face reddened in mortification.
Brother Eadulf suddenly spoke for the first time.
‘Sister Fidelma is right. Your word is not in question, because you are not a witness and cannot testify to what this man said.’
Fidelma hid her surprise at being supported by the Saxon brother. She turned back to the Abbess Hilda.
‘Nothing alters our commission to investigate this matter, Mother Abbess, only that we now have a suspect. Is that correct?’
The Abbess Hilda agreed, though seemingly nervous at being seen to go against her young kinsman.
Alhfrith exhaled in annoyance.
‘This is time-wasting. The Irish woman was killed by one of her own countrymen. The sooner that news is announced the better. At least it will stop the rumours and unjust accusations that she was killed to prevent her speaking at the debate by one of the pro-Roman faction.’
‘If that is the truth, then it shall be announced,’ Fidelma assured him. ‘We have yet to discern whether it is the truth.’
‘Perhaps,’ Brother Eadulf said hurriedly as the Saxon prince’s
brows furrowed, ‘you would tell us who the witnesses are against this man and how he came to be arrested?’
brows furrowed, ‘you would tell us who the witnesses are against this man and how he came to be arrested?’
Alhfrith hesitated.
‘One of my thanes, Wulfric, overheard the man boasting in the market that he had foretold the death of Étain. He found three people who will swear they heard the beggar announce this before the death of the abbess was discovered. He is guarding the prisoner even now, preparatory to our burning him at the stake for daring to mock the laws of God by claiming omniscient precognition.’
Fidelma stared directly at Alhfrith of Deira.
‘You have already condemned the man before he has been heard.’
‘I have heard him and I have condemned him to death by fire!’ snapped Alhfrith.
Sister Fidelma opened her mouth to protest but Eadulf cut her short.
‘This is in accord with our custom and law, Fidelma,’ he said hurriedly.
Fidelma’s eyes were cold.
‘But Wulfric,’ she breathed slowly. ‘I have already met this Wulfric of Frihop on the road here. Wulfric, the thane of Frihop, who hanged a brother of Columba on a roadside tree for no other reason than that of pleasure. He would make a good witness against any of our nation and faith.’
Alhfrith’s eyes rounded and his mouth opened but no sound would come as he struggled with his shock at her audacity.
Abbess Hilda had risen nervously from her chair. Even Brother Eadulf looked astounded.
‘Sister Fidelma!’ Hilda was the first to recover from the surprise of her implication and spoke sharply. ‘I know of your
distress at witnessing the dead body of Brother Aelfric of Lindisfarne but, as I informed you, the matter is under investigation.’
distress at witnessing the dead body of Brother Aelfric of Lindisfarne but, as I informed you, the matter is under investigation.’
‘Just so,’ Fidelma was abrupt. ‘And the investigation bears on the credibility of Wulfric as a witness. The thane of Frihop is hardly a creditable witness in this matter. You mention three others. Are they independent or does this thane hold them under threat or bribe by payment?’
The meaning of the question registered with Alhfrith, whose features tightened in a scowl of anger.
‘I shall not remain here to be insulted by a … woman, no matter of what rank,’ he snapped. ‘Were she not under the protection of my father I would have her whipped for such insolence. And so far as I am concerned, the beggar will burn at the stake at dawn tomorrow.’
‘Whether guilty or not?’ Fidelma replied heatedly.
‘He is guilty.’
‘Highness,’ Brother Eadulf’s quiet voice halted the petty king of Deira in mid-stride to the door. ‘Highness, it may be as you say – that the beggar is guilty. But we should be allowed to carry on our investigation for much hangs in the balance here. Our commission comes directly from the king, your father. The eyes of Christendom are on this small abbey at Witebia and much is at stake. Guilt must be established beyond any question or it may well be that war will ravage the kingdom and not just Northumbria will be darkened under the raven’s bloody wing. We have an oath and duty to obey the king, your father.’
The last sentence was heavy with emphasis.
Alhfrith paused and glanced from Brother Eadulf to the Abbess Hilda, now purposefully ignoring Sister Fidelma.
‘You have until tomorrow at dawn to prove the beggar
entirely innocent … or he bums at the stake. And have a care of that woman,’ he gestured to Fidelma without looking at her. ‘There is a limit beyond which I will not be pushed.’
entirely innocent … or he bums at the stake. And have a care of that woman,’ he gestured to Fidelma without looking at her. ‘There is a limit beyond which I will not be pushed.’
The door slammed behind the tall form of the son of Oswy.
Abbess Hilda looked at Fidelma reproachfully.
‘Sister, you seem to forget that you are no longer in your own land and our customs and laws are different.’
Sister Fidelma bowed her head.
‘I shall do my best to remember and hope that Brother Eadulf here will advise me when I am wrong. However, my primary aim is to get to the truth of this matter and truth should be served more than princes.’
The abbess sighed deeply.
‘I will inform Oswy the king of this development and, in the meantime, you may carry on the investigation. But remember that Alhfrith is king of Deira, the province in which this abbey stands and a king’s word is law.’
In the corridor outside Brother Eadulf halted and smiled with some degree of admiration at Fidelma.
‘Abbess Hilda is right, sister. You make little headway with our Saxon princes if you do not acknowledge their status. I know it is different in Ireland but you are in Northumbria now. Nevertheless, you have given young Alhfrith something to think over. He seems a vindictive young man, so I would have a care of yourself.’
Fidelma found herself answering his smile.
‘You must remind me when I do something wrong, Brother Eadulf. But it is hard to like someone like Alhfrith.’
‘Kings and princes are not placed on thrones to be liked,’ replied Eadulf. ‘What is your next step?’
‘To see the beggar,’ she replied promptly. ‘Do you want to see the physician, Edgar, for his report on the autopsy or to come with me?’
‘I think that you may need me.’ Eadulf was serious. ‘I would not trust Alhfrith.’
In fact they met with Sister Athelswith, who informed them that Brother Edgar had already conducted an examination of the body, found nothing other than the obvious, and that the body had been taken to the catacombs of the abbey for entombment.
It was Sister Athelswith who conducted them down into the abbey’s
hypogeum,
which term she used for the vast underground cellars of the buildings. A circular stone stairwell led twenty feet below the main abbey floor into a stone-flagged area with passageways spreading in all directions leading into cavernous chambers with high vaulted roofs. At the top of the stairs she had paused to light an oil lamp and by its light she guided them through a complex of musty passageways until they reached the catacombs, where the dead of the abbey were entombed in rows of stone sarcophagi. The smell had that curious quality of death which is inexplicable.
hypogeum,
which term she used for the vast underground cellars of the buildings. A circular stone stairwell led twenty feet below the main abbey floor into a stone-flagged area with passageways spreading in all directions leading into cavernous chambers with high vaulted roofs. At the top of the stairs she had paused to light an oil lamp and by its light she guided them through a complex of musty passageways until they reached the catacombs, where the dead of the abbey were entombed in rows of stone sarcophagi. The smell had that curious quality of death which is inexplicable.
Sister Athelswith was leading the way through these damp catacombs, somewhat hurriedly, when an echoing wail rooted her to the spot. The hand in which she held up the lamp trembled violently and she genuflected with undue haste.
Sister Fidelma laid a hand on the nervous
domina’s
arm. ‘It is only someone sobbing,’ she reassured her.
domina’s
arm. ‘It is only someone sobbing,’ she reassured her.
Holding the lamp high, Sister Athelswith continued to lead onwards.
The source of the sobbing was evident almost immediately. Towards the end of the catacombs there was a small alcove in
which two candles burned. The body of Abbess Étain had been removed to it for interment. It lay in funeral garb on a stone slab, the candles burning by its head. At the foot of the bier the figure of a sister lay in the
flecto
position, prostrating herself before the corpse. It was Sister Gwid. The girl raised herself, still sobbing, and hit the ground, crying out:
‘Domine miserere peccatrice!’
which two candles burned. The body of Abbess Étain had been removed to it for interment. It lay in funeral garb on a stone slab, the candles burning by its head. At the foot of the bier the figure of a sister lay in the
flecto
position, prostrating herself before the corpse. It was Sister Gwid. The girl raised herself, still sobbing, and hit the ground, crying out:
‘Domine miserere peccatrice!’
Other books
Quarry in the Black by Max Allan Collins
Under the Gun by Jayne, Hannah
Run From Fear by Jami Alden
Her Wanton Ways [Notorious Nephilim 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Carolyn Rosewood
The Amazon's Curse by Gena Showalter
Deepforge by R.J. Washburn, Ron Washburn
Shadowed Threads by Shannon Mayer
Death to Tyrants! by Teegarden, David
nb1 by lora Leigh
Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) by S. L. Jennings