Atonement of Blood (25 page)

F
idelma came to her senses to find a dark figure bending over her. The calming voice of Eadulf bade her remain still.

‘It’s all right. Your attacker has fled. It was a lucky thing I thought better of you coming here alone.’ Eadulf raised a lantern so that she could see.

‘Who was it?’ she asked, clearing her dry throat.

‘Adamrae, who else?’ Eadulf replied, helping her up with his free hand.

‘The young religieux?’ She was astonished.

‘I saw him lurking outside under the light above the chapel door. I wondered why he was being so furtive so I doused my lantern and crept up the path as he entered the chapel. Alas, I was not quick enough. I entered just as he struck the blow that knocked you out. I launched myself at him but I swear, he moved with the strength and agility of a warrior. He pushed me aside as if I were a small child. Then he was out of the chapel with the speed of a hare.’

Fidelma was rubbing her bruised head ruefully. It was sticky and she knew her assailant had drawn blood.

‘How do you know he has fled?’

‘There was a horse waiting by the fence. I followed him outside just in time to see it speeding away into the night.’ Eadulf peered at Fidelma’s injury in the lamplight and said, ‘We’d best get that bathed and tended.’

She was about to agree when she suddenly remembered what had brought her to the chapel.

‘All in good time. Let us find Brother Cronan, if he is still here.’

She made her way, a little unsteadily, towards the door which separated the living quarters of Brother Cronan from the chapel. Eadulf followed, holding the lantern high. She twisted the iron handle and pushed. The door would not budge. She tried again.

‘It’s locked,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘You will need to fetch Gormán to help you. This is a heavy door.’

‘And leave you here alone?’ Eadulf said, aghast. ‘After what has happened?’

‘Either that or I must fetch him myself.’

Eadulf dithered for a moment or two before handing the lantern to her and turning and trotting off.

When he returned, he brought not only Gormán but Conrí and Socht with him. Conrí’s face was a mask of dismay.

‘Did I not tell you that young, arrogant men do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned? However, I had no idea that the young man would go so far as to attack you.’

‘He did not attack me for any insult that he felt I had given him,’ Fidelma corrected. ‘There is something much deeper to this matter.’ She indicated the door. ‘It is locked and needs to be opened. If you would oblige me by forcing it … ?’

Gormán immediately put his shoulder to the door. Socht, after receiving a nod of approval from Conrí, joined him. A moment later the lock was wrenched from its holding as the door caved in. Fidelma followed the men into the room, holding the lantern high.

A figure lay on a bed covered in a blanket. It was very still.

Eadulf ran forward and pulled back the cover. An elderly man lay beneath it, tied hand and foot. A piece of cloth was fastened across his mouth.

‘Brother Cronan!’ exclaimed Conrí.

The man was alive but tied in such a way, with hands behind him, the rope connecting his hands and feet, that he was bent almost backwards. Eadulf untied the gag then drew his knife and quickly severed the bonds. The man was very pale. He looked weak and anaemic. There was a jug of water nearby and Eadulf poured some of the contents into a beaker. Conrí was trying to question the bewildered figure on the bed.

‘Let him recover first,’ Fidelma instructed, holding the man’s head to allow him to sip the water. ‘Everything in good time.’

The man, identified as Brother Cronan, began to sit up, coughing a little and rubbing at his wrists where angry weal-marks showed how tightly he had been bound. He looked from one to another of his rescuers in bewilderment.

Fidelma sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘I am a
dálaigh
, Brother Cronan. My name is Fidelma of Cashel. We need to ask you questions. Are you up to answering?’

‘How long have I been here?’ he countered.

‘We have not seen you for five days,’ Conrí said. ‘Brother Adamrae said you were taken sick and confined to your room.’

Brother Cronan’s lips compressed for a moment. ‘Brother Adamrae!’ he echoed bitterly. Then: ‘Five days? Yes, he came and fed me five times and I was allowed to perform … certain natural functions. Other than that he kept me tied up as you have seen. I am weak from hunger and need a bath. Forgive me, for I must insult your sense of smell, lady.’

Fidelma smiled encouragingly. ‘Do not worry. These matters will be attended to shortly. But first you must tell us how you came to be in this predicament.’

‘The young man, Adamrae … where is he?’ He looked about nervously.

‘He is fled,’ Eadulf said.

‘I will send some warriors in pursuit of him,’ Conrí said quickly.

The religieux sighed and relaxed a little. ‘It was roughly five days ago that he came here and told me that he had been sent by the Abbot of Mungairit to help me administer to the people of the Ford of Oaks.’

‘Abbot Nannid?’ pressed Fidelma.

Brother Cronan nodded. ‘Yes. He said that he had come from the abbey. So I invited him in and he started asking questions about the lord Conrí and how many warriors he commanded here. I thought that strange. But then he said something that made me suspicious of him.’

‘Which was?’

‘He claimed to have studied at the Abbey of Machaoi. Yet he had no accent of the northern kingdoms in his voice.’

‘I noticed that also,’ Fidelma said. ‘When I remarked on it, he told me that he was fostered among the people close to these borders.’

‘Well, I once made a journey to I-Shona, where Colmcille built his abbey,’ Brother Cronan said. ‘On that journey I stayed in the Abbey of Machaoi before journeying across the narrow sea to I-Shona, so I knew something about it. It was clear that he did not even know that the abbey was on an island.’

‘He certainly knew it was on an island when we spoke with him,’ Fidelma pointed out.

‘Because I was foolish enough to show my astonishment at his ignorance and told him. Stupidly, I revealed that I had become suspicious. I turned my back on him and the next thing I knew, I was trussed up as you discovered me, lying on the bed.’

‘He came to see me soon after,’ admitted Conrí, ‘and said he had come to help you but found you ill and so you had to be confined to your chamber.’

‘Did he give you any idea of who he was and why he was here?’ Fidelma asked Brother Cronan.

‘He left me more or less alone, except that at some time he would loosen the bonds to feed me. Usually, it was just a bowl of oats and water and he would allow me to use the bucket for decency’s sake. But then he would stand in the room with a drawn sword so that I would not get any ideas. Most of the time I was bound and gagged to prevent my calling for help.’

‘And no one thought to come and check on you?’ Fidelma was frowning. ‘Was there no physician or apothecary here? Surely someone would have come to discover what this illness was that confined you here?’

It was Conrí who replied, with a shamed face. ‘I think Adamrae, whoever he was, has murdered our apothecary.’

‘You have made no mention of this before!’ Fidelma turned sharply.

‘It is only now, listening to Brother Cronan, that this conclusion has come into my mind.’

‘You had better explain,’ Fidelma sighed.

Conrí looked even more contrite. ‘When Adamrae introduced himself to me and pretended that he had found Brother Cronan ill, he told me that he had sent for our apothecary, Lachtine.’

‘So what did this apothecary say?’ asked Fidelma.

‘I have not seen him since. That is why I think he is dead.’

‘Did Adamrae comment on the disappearance of the apothecary?’

‘On the next day, when I saw Adamrae, I asked him how Brother Cronan fared and what Lachtine had diagnosed. He said that Lachtine had prescribed some herbs and a potion, and had recommended that Brother Cronan should be kept isolated for seven days. In the meantime, he would go into the forests in search of some herbal remedies that would further alleviate the symptoms. That was why we have not been worried by Lachtine’s absence. He often spends whole days at a time in the forests searching for plants and herbs with which to prepare his concoctions. But now, hearing what has happened, I do fear … truly I do now fear for the man’s life.’

‘Well, Lachtine never visited me, that is for sure,’ muttered Brother Cronan.

‘Why would Adamrae kill this apothecary?’ asked Eadulf. ‘And why keep Brother Cronan a prisoner?’

‘If we had an answer to that, then we would know what his purpose was in coming here,’ grunted Socht irritably.

‘Well, we know it wasn’t to preach the Faith,’ Eadulf replied dryly.

‘I am worried that he asked Brother Cronan here about the strength of my warriors,’ Conrí said. ‘Perhaps he is one of the brigands that have become active in recent times. The Ford of the Oaks is a strategic place right enough, but only for merchants. It is a good meeting place for them, being situated on the road from east to west, and a good navigable spot for small boats heading north along the River Mháigh to the great estuary of the Sionnan.’

‘But if Adamrae is a brigand, why put himself forward as a judge to condemn that other thief to death?’ Gormán said.

‘I suppose he could have been part of another band of thieves and took the opportunity to get rid of a rival?’ suggested Eadulf.

‘Adamrae was interested in the local inn that serves merchants,’ Socht said. ‘He would go there several times a day.’

Conrí was not convinced. ‘An attack on merchants here or an attack on my fortress would be futile unless he had a substantial gang. I have fifty men at my command here.’

‘Whatever Adamrae wanted, or was going to do, he has either achieved it or would have achieved it soon,’ Fidelma said thoughtfully.

‘How do you come to that conclusion?’ asked Eadulf.

‘He told Conrí that Lachtine said no one should go near Brother Cronan for seven days. Why mention a specific time unless it had meaning? I would think it would have occurred to someone that Lachtine should have returned from wandering the forest in search of herbs by then. So a search would have been started about now.’

Conrí was still clearly embarrassed. ‘That is true, lady. In fact, the matter did not even occur to me, but the time will soon be up. We are so used to Lachtine’s wanderings in the forest but I suppose we would have started asking questions within the next few days.’

‘I suggest that as soon as it is daylight, some search is made for this apothecary,’ Fidelma said, ‘although I suspect that you will be searching for a body rather than a living person.’ She turned back to Brother Cronan, who seemed to be regaining his strength. ‘You can recollect nothing else that Adamrae said that would give a clue as to why he came here?’

Brother Cronan shook his head. ‘I was aware that during one or two nights, some people came to see him. I heard voices beyond the closed door of this chamber.’

‘These people came to the chapel then?’ asked Eadulf.

Fidelma turned to Conrí and Socht. ‘Was anyone seen coming to the chapel at any time when Adamrae was here?’

‘There were people who came for the services, of course,’ pointed out Socht, ‘but they were turned away by Adamrae, who used the excuse of Brother Cronan’s illness. There are no reports of anyone visiting the chapel at night.’

Fidelma stood up. ‘I think we should leave Brother Cronan to recover from his experience. Is there anyone we can send to tend to you after your rough handling?’

‘You might send old Mother Muirenn to me,’ the religieux said. ‘She helps clean and wash this place from time to time.’

‘I’ll do so immediately, Brother,’ Socht offered. ‘I’ll assure her that the tales of illness and contagion are false.’

They bade farewell to the exhausted but relieved religieux and walked back across the square in the semi-gloom of the lanterns. Attendants came forward to offer refreshment and remind them that it was time for the evening baths before the
praintech
, the evening meal.

They did not speak much until they were seated at the refectory table. It was Eadulf who then returned to the topic that had been occupying his thoughts.

‘I find it curious that no one saw who went to the chapel to see this man Adamrae nor, indeed, does anyone in this settlement own to visiting him.’

‘Rather Adamrae came to us, than we go to him,’ Conrí pointed out. ‘I think most people were afraid of picking up Brother Cronan’s contagion, which we now know was non-existent.’

‘And forgot that if there was a contagion, Adamrae would be carrying it to them,’ muttered Fidelma.

‘Tell me,’ Eadulf asked reflectively, ‘did Adamrae always wear that cowl of his drawn over his head?’

‘Always. He said it was the custom of his Order to …’ The war chieftain closed his eyes in a grimace. ‘It could have been an aid to disguise.’

‘Why would he be interested in how many warriors you have here?’ Eadulf asked. ‘Why kill the apothecary; why keep Brother Cronan a prisoner; why ask questions about the strength of your fortress and, indeed, why did he frequently visit the local tavern?’