‘You seem to offer a different picture of Lioba from Brother Willibrod’s. Perhaps you might explain that?’
Aldhere stood up hesitantly.
‘It is true that the girl appeared to make her living by visits to my men,’ he said.
Brother Willibrod raised both fists to his forehead and gave forth a wretched cry. He collapsed in his seat and huddled there giving vent to long, inconsolable sobs.
‘And was it noticed that Lioba liked to ask questions of your men?’
The look on Aldhere’s face answered the question.
Fidelma now turned to the young, pale-featured Brother Redwald.
‘You told Abbot Cild that when you entered my chamber as I lay ill you saw the figure of Gélgeis bending over me. You swore that you knew her because she had nursed you when you were sick. Was that figure, in reality, the girl Lioba?’
Brother Redwald stood up, looking around him nervously. He was embarrassed.
‘I was mistaken in thinking this morning that Lioba was Gélgeis,’ he said hesitantly.
‘Think what I am asking you,’ Fidelma pressed.
‘I accept now that the person I saw must have been Lioba,’ said the boy. ‘At the time, I was sure that it was Gélgeis. But it was evening, the chamber was dark. I must have been wrong.’
Sigeric had sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
‘So let us sum matters up. What are we saying? That this girl, who had a superficial resemblance to Gélgeis, the wife of the abbot, was seen at various times at the abbey. That Abbot Cild became demented and thought he was being haunted. In his madness, he killed her?’
Aldhere called out humorously: ‘But since Cild is dead and the abbey has to pay this foreign prince to prevent war, there should be an end to this story. Surely there is no more to hear?’
‘There are the evil deeds of Higbald,’ Sigeric pointed out.‘We are told that he meant to create mayhem and bloodshed in this land.’
‘He was responsible for many murders which have been ascribed to Abbot Cild,’ agreed Fidelma.
‘What?’ It was Gadra’s son rising to his feet, only just having heard what had happened in his absence from his father. ‘You are not suggesting that it was this Higbald and not Cild who murdered my sister, Gélgeis?’
Fidelma shook her head sadly.
‘I am not suggesting that, Garb. Cild was responsible for several deaths, such as that of Brother Pol and many other brothers and even sisters who followed the Rule of Columba. At first I suspected that Cild was responsible for Brother Botulf’s death. Botulf knew all about Gadra’s intended troscud. He became the intermediary after Brother Pol was killed and so knew when Garb would come to the abbey, the hour and the day when he would announce the troscud. That was why he sent a message to Brother Eadulf at Canterbury asking him to come to the abbey before that hour.’
‘He had hoped that I could advise him and, indeed, the abbey, of the laws applying to the troscud,’ added Eadulf unnecessarily.
‘Yet it was not the forthcoming announcement of the troscud nor Botulf’s liaison with Garb that led to his death,’ Fidelma went on. ‘Botulf had begun to suspect that Higbald was not what he appeared. The night before we arrived at the abbey, Botulf discovered where Higbald and his men kept their weapons. He was surprised by Higbald or one of his men who slew him and then removed his body to the courtyard outside this chapel.’
‘How do you know this?’ demanded Sigeric. ‘Do you have a witness?’
‘No,’ replied Fidelma. ‘But there are two pieces of evidence. Firstly, Eadulf found some writing in Brother Botulf’s own hand.’
She gestured for him to produce it.
Eadulf held up the paper that he had discovered in his friend’s cell. The paper that had been hidden in the book satchel.
‘I am sure Brother Willibrod will remember when I searchedthat book satchel,’ he said. ‘And he will recognise the hand of Brother Botulf.’
‘Botulf tells us several things in these encrypted notes,’ Fidelma explained. ‘In the last note, a quotation from Proverbs, he tells us that Bretta’s son was going insane. It was Cild of whom we spoke. More importantly, he indicates that he was waiting for Eadulf to arrive.’
Eadulf handed Sigehere the papers.
Sighere began to read the Latin with a fluency which surprised Fidelma. She had not thought a pagan would have a knowledge of the language.
‘God willing, my friend will be here soon.’ Sigehere frowned. ‘This refers to Eadulf?’
Eadulf nodded. Sigehere continued: ‘Is it not written that mercy is the support of justice? Not so in the man of Merce. We will be destroyed by the people …’ Sigehere paused and frowned. ‘How does this relate to this matter?’
‘Eadulf and I were confused because the note is encrypted,’ replied Fidelma. ‘We thought it read “people of the marshes”. What are those but Aldhere’s outlaws? But that was not what Botulf was saying. We misread it. He wrote “We will be destroyed by the people of the march.” The borderlands … and who are they?’
Sigeric’s eyebrows rose a little.
‘Not marsh but march, which is the meaning of the name of Mercia,’ he said slowly.
‘Indeed.’ Fidelma smiled. ‘What does he write, Eadulf?’
‘It is written that mercy is the support of justice but not in Higbald, a man of Merce … Merce is the old form of the name Mercia.’
‘Botulf has preceded this by hinting that outward appearances were not what they seemed. That Higbald was no more a religious than Aldhere was a saint.’
‘If Higbald is taken captive, he shall be interrogated closely on this matter,’ Sigeric said. ‘But you said that you have further evidence?’
Fidelma nodded.
‘I said that Botulf was slain in the underground chamber where Higbald and his men kept their weaponry. You willfind bloodstains which lead from there into the crypt. Eadulf and I found Botulf’s purse there. It had been ripped from his belt as he was killed or as he was removed to where his body was later found.’
‘So Higbald’s plot has been uncovered but is unrelated to the conflict between Abbot Cild and his brother Aldhere?’ Sigeric asked.
‘Only in that he was able to play on their quarrel,’ confirmed Fidelma.
Gadra had risen, finally betraying his impatience.
‘All this is no concern of mine. Once more I call upon the people of this abbey to recompense me for the murder of my daughter — murdered at the hands of its abbot. Without compensation, the troscud starts at the intended time and its result is the responsibility of everyone here.’
He rose and turned towards the doors. Garb and his followers began to move with him.
‘Wait, Gadra of Maigh Eo!’ Fidelma called.
The sharp command in her voice caused the old chieftain to turn, frowning at her.
‘I did not want to do this, Gadra, but your determination thrusts this action upon me.’
She had their attention now. They turned to her expectantly.
‘You were right, Gadra, when you said that your daughter Gélgeis made a mistake when she left Maigh Eo with Cild. She discovered that mistake soon afterwards and, as you said, she wrote to you about it. She was young, in a foreign land, and her husband abused her badly. All this you knew.’
‘I am glad that you accept my word on this, Fidelma,’ replied Gadra, frowning but clearly not understanding where Fidelma was leading.
‘Gélgeis was reported dead in Hob’s Mire, where Cild has now taken his own life. Cild had been of an unbalanced nature probably since childhood. On that I have said that we may accept the word of his brother Aldhere.’
The outlaw smiled thinly and gave a mocking bow in her direction.
‘Again, as I have said, a woman was seen about the abbey. She resembled Gélgeis. Her form haunted Abbot Cild. Therewas the slaughter of the black cat on the high altar, recalling an incident from his youthful madness. This wraith pursued him, until it drove him completely out of his mind with the result that he killed Lioba and then took his own life.’