‘But what if the girl whom the abbot stabbed to death in his torment last night was Gélgeis, what then?’ Eadulf intervened, much to Fidelma’s disapproval. ‘That would mean that Gélgeis had fabricated her death some months ago and was playing some game of her own devising.’
There was a shocked silence for a moment. Then Garb chuckled.
‘If such a ridiculous claim were true, are you trying to tell us that Cild would not be responsible under law?’
Before Fidelma could intervene, Eadulf spoke again, having caught sight of her disapproving features.
‘I was hypothesising, Garb.’
An angry murmur began but Garb’s voice rang out: ‘A cruel hypothesis, when we know the facts! But I will answer. It would still mean that Cild murdered my sister whether that act took place last year or last night! Recompense would still be due.’
There was a growing unrest.
‘Is this your argument?’ intervened Sigeric. ‘Are you claiming that Gélgeis was still alive until last night and part of some plot? What was its purpose? To drive Cild insane?’
‘I intend to prove that a real person was haunting this abbey and not a ghost,’ replied Fidelma calmly. ‘What I cannot yet prove is who this person was. I believe that Cild, whether in his madness or in reality, thought that it was his wife. The next step in the process is to find out who the dead girl was.’
Sigeric looked bewildered. Fidelma continued.
‘Certainly, the abbot was seeing a person who he thought was the ghost of his wife and that encouraged his dementia,’ she explained. ‘Cild was of an abnormal mentality right from the start of his life. Aldhere was telling the truth about his brother’s fits and rages as a young man, which was why his father dispossessed him. He knew that his eldest son was insane. How that insanity began I do not know. What evil possessed him is difficult to say. A single leaf of the oak does not go brown, wither and fall on its own account. It does so with the knowledge of the whole tree. In search of that reason, we should examine Cild’s family.’
Aldhere gave a bark of laughter. ‘You’ll find not insanity in me, Sister.’
‘We will accept your word for it … for the time being.’ Fidelma smiled icily. ‘However, that does not immediately concern us. We are concerned with Cild’s behaviour. It was growing more aberrant as time went by. When he started to see what he thought was the apparition of his wife, it merely pushed him further, more quickly, into the abyss of insanity.’
Sigeric nodded appreciatively. ‘And then, when he had the opportunity, he struck out at the girl?’
‘That is so. He came across Lioba in the chapel and, in the darkness, unreason overtook him and in his fear and rage he struck her down.’ She looked around at the assembly. ‘There is one thing, however, which is the most important point.’
‘What is that?’ demanded Sigeric, when Fidelma paused.
‘Someone instigated the appearance of these apparitions. I am told that during this particular time of year, what you called Yuletide before the coming of the Christian celebrations, the dead could seek vengeance on the living. I believe that these apparitions were timed to this period. Someone meant to drive Cild insane.’
There was a sudden hush.
Slowly, Fidelma turned to where Brother Higbald was sitting. He saw her eyes resting on him, saw a faint smile at the corner of her mouth, and he returned her gaze with a frown crossing his features. After a few minutes he coughed nervously.
‘Why do you stare at me so, Sister?’ he demanded in a tight voice.
‘Lioba came into the abbey last night to meet someone by the chapel,’ she said. ‘She came to meet you, Brother Higbald.’
The apothecary’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘I do not think it, Higbald. I know it to be so. You knew Lioba well-’
‘So did many people,’ snapped the apothecary. ‘Many knew her very well. She sold her body for what she could get-’
Brother Willibrod moved with such alacrity for one of his girth and visual handicap that most people were surprised. Only Eadulf managed to reach him before the dominus made contact with theapothecary. He twisted his arm in a tight hold and pushed him back towards his seat.
‘Control yourself, Willibrod,’ he hissed. ‘Our aim is to get to the truth, unpalatable or not. Sit and control yourself otherwise I must eject you from these proceedings.’
When order had been restored, Fidelma resumed: ‘Lioba may well have sold her body but not to you, Higbald. With you she seemed to have a different relationship. Why was that?’
The apothecary shrugged in feigned indifference. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Let me enlighten you. You persuaded Eadulf and myself to escape from the abbey by telling us a warband was marching on the abbey. It was not true. Lioba and a band of warriors were waiting at the spot where they thought we would emerge from the tunnels. You had carefully directed us. It was thanks to Eadulf’s confusion that we emerged at another place.’
Higbald did not answer but sat scowling at her.
‘Lioba was also in your band of warriors when you came to what you thought was a rendezvous with Cild and Willibrod the other night. Cild had already left the appointed place. That was when you made the arrangement to meet Lioba in the abbey last night.’
Sigeric started forward in his chair. ‘You will have to explain this, Fidelma, because it has gone far beyond my understanding. I am not following this at all.’
‘I will now explain very clearly,’ Fidelma assured him.
At that moment the doors of the chapel crashed open and one of the brethren of the abbey came rushing in breathlessly. He was wringing his hands in an almost comical fashion.
‘It’s the abbot! The abbot has fled his chamber!’
Chapter Nineteen
As Sigeric struggled to call for order as the babble of reaction greeted the news, a new chaos ensued when Garb leapt from his seat shouting: ‘The beast is escaping! He shall not elude his responsibility so easily!’ Then, with several of his warriors at his heels, the young man hurried from the chapel, ignoring calls from Sigeric to stay where he was. Behind him, the religious and warriors were in disarray.
Eadulf was conscious of Fidelma’s frustration. She barely concealed her anger at the turn of events as the assembly arose beyond control. Sigeric gave up the task. With Fidelma and Eadulf following, he hurried towards the religieux standing by the chapel doors.
‘What happened?’ demanded Sigeric loudly, trying to make himself heard above the noise.
The religieux waved his hands in a fluttering, helpless gesture.
‘I am not at fault, lord …’
‘What happened?’ Sigeric thundered again in a tone that seemed to reverberate around him.
‘I was tricked,’ the man complained, in a whining voice. ‘I thought Abbot Cild had fallen asleep and so I took the opportunity to go to the defaecatorum but when I returned he had gone. I rushed to the gates and saw him heading off along the road on horseback.’
‘By the wounds of Thunor!’ cried Sigeric. ‘He will be well away by now. Which way did he go?’
‘Towards Hob’s Mire.’
They rushed into the main courtyard of the chapel to see a group of Irish warriors clattering out of the courtyard on horseback, led by Garb.
Sigeric turned to Werferth, who had kept close to his side.
‘Go after them,’ he instructed sharply. ‘See that they inflict no harm on the abbot if they retake him.’
Gadra, who had joined them unnoticed with Brother Laisre, said softly: ‘My son will not inflict harm on Cild. He is under the constraint of the troscud. To inflict injury on the abbot now is prohibited. Sister Fidelma, tell the Saxon that what I say is true.’
‘Gadra is correct,’ she said at once. ‘Once the troscud is announced, no harm may be inflicted by either party until they are come to arbitration.’