Absolution by Murder sf-1

by Peter Tremayne

  Eadulf stared for a long time at the beggar and then raised his eyes to Fidelma.

  ‘Though I studied long in your country, sister, I did not study this science. Do you know anything of it?’

  Fidelma pursed her lips.

  ‘Little enough. But enough to know that Canna is making sense according to the strictures of his art.’

  Eadulf shook his head doubtfully.

  ‘But I can see no way of saving him from the fires of Alhfrith tomorrow. Even if what he says is true and he did not kill Étain, my fellow Saxons will be afraid of one who had read portents in the sky in such a manner.’

  Sister Fidelma sighed deeply.

  ‘I am coming to learn much about your Saxon culture. But my aim must be to discover the murderer not to appease superstition. Canna admits that he foretold the death of Étain. Now we must find those witnesses who heard him give her name and the precise hour. In short, we must find out exactly what he said. I fear he is a vain man.’

  Canna spat angrily.

  ‘I have told you what I said and why I said it. I am not afraid of these Saxons and their punishments, for my name will go down to posterity as the greatest seer of my age by reason of this prophecy from the stars.’

  Sister Fidelma raised an eyebrow disdainfully.

  ‘Is that what you want, Canna? To be martyred so that you may have your place in history?’

  Canna chuckled wheezily.

  ‘I am content to let posterity judge me.’

  Sister Fidelma motioned Eadulf towards the cell door and then turned back abruptly.

  ‘Why did you visit the Abbess Étain today?’

  Canna started. ‘Why … to warn her, of course.’

  ‘To warn her against her own murder?’

  ‘No …’ Canna’s chin came up. ‘Yes. Why else?’

  Outside the cell Eadulf turned to Fidelma.

  ‘It could be that this man killed Étain to fulfil his prophecy?’ he suggested. ‘He admits going to warn her and Sister Athelswith was a witness to it.’

  In fact, Eadulf had forgotten Sister Athelswith’s mention of a beggar visiting the abbess before her death. It was clever of Fidelma to spot the connection.

  ‘I doubt it. I have respect for this art which he practises for it is an ancient and honourable profession in my land. No one could so perfectly form the stars to his own bidding. No, I have a feeling that Canna saw what he saw in the stars but the real question is, was he so specific about who was to be killed? Remember that the Abbess Hilda said that he was not specific at all when he warned her that blood would flow at the time of the eclipse?’

  ‘But if Canna did not know who was to be the victim why did he specifically warn Abbess Étain?’

  ‘The hour grows late. But if Alhfrith is intent on burning this man tomorrow at dawn we have little time. Let us seek out and question these witnesses and discover what they have to say about Canna’s actual words. You pursue the three Saxons and the thane of Frihop and get their testimony and I will have another word with Sister Athelswith about Canna’s visit to Étain. We will meet back in the domus hospitale at midnight.’

  Sister Fidelma led the way back into the abbey from the hypogeum. She was convinced that Canna was presenting himself as a willing victim to the flames of the Saxons. She was sure he was not guilty of the murder of Étain. His guilt lay in his colossal vanity, for she was sure that he sought immortality by one great prediction which would be talked of by the chroniclers for generations to come.

  She felt an anger against him for, impressive as his prophecy was, he was delaying them from tracking down the real culprit, the genuine murderer of her friend and mother abbess, Étain of Kildare. He was an unnecessary distraction in her task.

  One thing she realised, that there were many at the great assembly who apparently feared the oratorical skills of the Abbess Étain of Kildare. Could they have feared those skills enough to attempt to silence her, silence her permanently? She had seen enough displays of temper between the Roman and Columban factions to know that the dislikes and hatreds ran deep. Perhaps they ran deep enough to cause Étain’s death.

  Chapter Nine

  When Sister Fidelma reached the cloisters leading to the domus hospitale, the bell had started to chime for the midnight prayers. Brother Eadulf was already in Sister Athelswith’s officium, his head bent over his prayer beads, intoning the Angelus in the Roman fashion.

  Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae.

  The Angel of the Lord announced unto Mary.

  Et concepit de Spiritu Sancto.

  And she conceived of the Holy Ghost.

  Sister Fidelma waited quietly until Eadulf had finished his office and replaced his beads.

  ‘Well?’ she demanded without preamble.

  Brother Eadulf pursed his lips.

  ‘It seems that you were right. Only Wulfric claims he heard Canna pronounce the name of the abbess and the exact manner of her death. Of the other three, one says it was Wulfric who told him what Canna had said. He had not even heard Canna speak. The other two say that Canna spoke only in general terms, as he did to the Abbess Hilda. In other words, we have only Wulfric’s testimony against Canna.’

  Fidelma sighed softly.

  ‘And Sister Athelswith says that Canna was warning Abbess Abbe and others that there would be a death here. He did not single out Étain at all. This was confirmed by two of the brethren here whom Sister Athelswith called to have Canna ejected from Étain’s cubiculum. Canna seems hell-bent on sacrificing his life for immortal fame. A stupid, vain man.’

  ‘What should we do?’

  ‘I believe that Canna has committed no crime save that of vanity. The idea of him being killed for that is abhorrent. We must release Canna at once. He should put distance between himself and this place before dawn.’

  Eadulf’s eyes widened.

  ‘But what of Alhfrith? He is the son of Oswy and ruler of Deira.’

  ‘And I am a dálaigh of the Brehon courts,’ replied Fidelma spiritedly, ‘acting under the commission of Oswy, King of Northumbria. I will assume full responsibility. We have been allowed to waste too much time on the cause of Canna as it is – time when we could have been tracking down Étain’s true killer.’

  Eadulf bit his lip.

  ‘This is true, but to release Canna … ?’

  But Fidelma had turned and was already leading the way to the hypogeum of the abbey. Her mind was already trying to figure out a way to release Canna in spite of the two guards outside. Hurrying along with her, Eadulf was beginning to realise that Fidelma was a determined woman. He had been misled by her youth and attractive softness at the start. He realised just how decisive she could be.

  As it was, luck was with them for the two guards were both fast asleep. The nearness of the abbey’s apotheca had proved too much of a temptation and they had helped themselves to a liberal quantity of wine. They were snoring in a drunken sleep, sprawled over the table outside the cell, empty flagons by their nerveless hands. Fidelma grinned triumphantly as she removed the key from one of the sleeping guards without any trouble.

  She turned to a worried-looking Eadulf.

  ‘If you do not want to be party to what I am about to do, you had best leave now.’

  Eadulf shook his head, although with some reluctance.

  ‘We are in this together.’

  ‘The sorcerer, Canna, has gone,’ announced Alhfrith. ‘He has escaped from custody.’

  Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf had been summoned yet again to the chambers of the Abbess Hilda following the serving of the jentaculum, the morning breaking of the fast. Abbess Hilda was sitting with pinched features, while Alhfrith paced agitatedly by the window. Oswy himself was sprawled in a chair by the smouldering fire. He was frowning moodily into the smoky turf.

  Alhfrith had levelled his implied accusation immediately Fidelma and Eadulf had entered.

  Sister Fidelma remained outwardly unperturbed.

  ‘He did not escape. I dis
missed him. He had committed no crime.’

  The petty king of Deira’s jaw dropped in astonishment. Whatever response he had been prepared for, it was not this. Even Oswy’s eyes widened as his face was drawn from the fire to gaze in astonishment at Sister Fidelma.

  ‘You dared to release him?’ Alhfrith’s voice was like the rumble of distant thunder before the storm erupts in its true savagery.

  ‘Dared? I am a dálaigh, qualified to the level of anruth. If I believe a person innocent then I am entitled to set him at liberty.’

  The king of Deira’s mouth was working.

  Oswy slapped his thigh and suddenly gave forth a laugh, a loud burst of genuine mirth.

  ‘By Christ’s wounds, Alhfrith! She is within her rights!’

  ‘Not so!’ snapped his son in response. ‘She has no right to practise the laws of her own land in our kingdom. No one but I could order the release of the beggar. She shall be punished. Guards!’

  As quick as a lightning flash, Oswy’s expression changed from amusement to cold anger.

  ‘Alhfrith! You forget, I am your suzerain as well as your father. You are merely ruler of this province under me and by my patronage. Therefore I am the arbiter of law here and I shall decide who is to be punished and who not. Sister Fidelma is acting under my commission in this land.’

  The foxy-faced Wulfric had entered at Alhfrith’s call for the guard, but Oswy gestured savagely for him to leave. The swarthy thane gave a hurried glance at Alhfrith, as if seeking his permission, but seeing his lord’s red, mortified face he departed swiftly.

  Alhfrith’s face was a study of suppressed anger. Only the livid scar on his cheek made a curious white weal across the blood-infused skin.

  Eadulf was easing his weight from one foot to another, looking uncomfortable.

  ‘If there is blame and punishment, sire,’ he said, speaking for the first time since they had entered the chamber, ‘then it is mine. I take responsibility. I agreed with Sister Fidelma’s assessment of the astrologer’s lack of guilt in the matter. I supported her decision to release him to save him from a needless and unjust death by fire.’

  Fidelma’s eyes widened in surprise and she gave the Saxon monk a brief glance of gratitude. She had not expected him to state his support in so strong a fashion.

  Alhfrith seemed to choke.

  ‘So you desire punishment?’ Oswy chuckled, turning to the Saxon brother.

  ‘No, sire. I merely say that I am also responsible for the release of the beggar.’

  Oswy shook his head in amusement before turning back to Fidelma. Fidelma stood watching the Northumbrian king calmly. Eadulf shivered slightly – one word of displeasure from Oswy and they would both be dead.

  ‘It is a lucky thing for you, Fidelma of Kildare, that I am conversant with your ways and customs and able to check the hot-headedness of my son here. But you have nearly overreached yourself. You do not have the authority in my kingdom to release prisoners unless I specifically order it.’

  Fidelma lowered her head.

  ‘Then I am truly sorry, Oswy of Northumbria. It was my error in thinking that when you commissioned me as a dálaigh of the Brehon courts, knowing full well what that entailed, you gave me permission to exercise my role exactly as I would in my own land.’

  Oswy frowned. Did he detect a slight mocking tone in the girl’s voice?

  ‘I think you knew that you acted without authority,’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘I do not think that you are as ignorant of the laws of this land as you are making out.’

  Fidelma grimaced with apparent diffidence.

  ‘Do you not?’ she asked with an exaggerated air of wide-eyed innocence.

  ‘No, by thunder! I do not.’ Oswy paused and then his expression split into a grin. ‘In fact, Sister Fidelma, I think you are a very wise and knowing person.’

  ‘For that, I thank you, Oswy.’

  Alhfrith interrupted angrily.

  ‘What of the sorcerer? Let me send Wulfric and some warriors out to track him down.’

  Oswy silenced him with a gesture without his blue eyes leaving those reflective green eyes of Sister Fidelma.

  ‘You say that this beggar is innocent?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘His only guilt was the sin of pride. He is an astrologer. He foresaw some events in the stars. But we have questioned those he spoke to before the event. He was not specific and only after the event did he attempt to boast that he had accurately predicted the death of the abbess, thus incurring suspicion.’

  Oswy slowly nodded his head.

  ‘I have seen the Irish astrologers at work. I can believe in the accuracy of their prophecies. But, you say, he did not name Étain as the victim before the event?’

  ‘That is not so. Wulfric heard him!’ interrupted Alhfrith sharply.

  ‘And only Wulfric,’ Eadulf chimed in. ‘The only witness who said he named Étain and the manner of her death before the event was Wulfric, a thane who wishes to discredit the Irish in general and any linked with the church of Columba. Wulfric boasts that he hanged Brother Aelfric not two days ago and that he will do the same to any monk of Columba who trespasses in his domain.’

  ‘This is so,’ Fidelma agreed. ‘We have questioned three witnesses who maintain that Canna was only vague in his prediction. Four witnesses, counting the Abbess Hilda here, will swear to that. Only after the murder did Canna claim that he had accurately made the prediction.’

  ‘Why should the beggar lie?’ queried Oswy. ‘Surely he knew the suspicion it would bring on him? And that if he were suspected of employing black arts to encompass a death, then death would be his retribution?’

  ‘He lies because he wished to take the credit for a great prophecy, one that would be remembered for generations,’ Fidelma answered. ‘He twisted the truth in his mind and claimed his prediction was more accurate than it was.’

  ‘But he was accepting death by so doing,’ Oswy pointed out again.

  ‘But the Irish have little fear of entering the afterlife,’ Eadulf commented. ‘They do so joyously. Even before they turned to the word of Christ, it was their teaching that there was an Otherworld, a life of the ever young into which all living things were admitted. Canna sought glory in this world and was happy to start his new life in the Otherworld.’

  ‘A madman then?’

  Fidelma shrugged diffidently.

  ‘Who is to say whether he was mad or sane? Fame and immortality. There is a little of that madness in us all. Nevertheless, he should not be punished for what he did not do and so I released him and told him that unless he wished the truth of his vanity to be talked about throughout the feasting halls of Ireland, unless he wanted to be satirised throughout the five kingdoms, he should stick to the accuracy of his prophecy.’ She paused and smiled. ‘He should be well on his way to the kingdom of Rheged by now.’

  ‘Father!’ It was Alhfrith again. ‘You cannot let this pass. It is an insult to me—’

  ‘Silence!’ thundered Oswy. ‘I have decided the matter.’

  ‘The most important thing is to find out who really did slay the Abbess Étain. Why waste time on petty spite?’ Fidelma said, giving Alhfrith a cold glance.

  Oswy raised a hand to stifle the outburst that hovered on the lips of his son.

  ‘You are right. I, Oswy the king, endorse what you have done, sister. The beggar, Canna, is at liberty. He can stay or go in freedom. But better he did go to Rheged and the lands beyond.’ He looked meaningfully at his mortified son. ‘And nothing further shall be mentioned or done about the matter. Is that clear, Alhfrith?’

  His tall, blond-haired son stood silent, his eyes downcast, his lips compressed.

  ‘Is it clear?’ repeated the king ominously.

  Alhfrith raised his rebellious eyes and tried to meet his father’s gaze and then lowered then again, nodding silently.

  ‘Good,’ smiled Oswy, relaxing again in his chair. ‘Then we have the synod to attend to while you and the good Brother Eadul
f here continue your quest.’

  Sister Fidelma bowed her head in acknowledgment.

  ‘Much time has been wasted on this matter,’ she remarked quietly. ‘Eadulf and I will withdraw and continue our investigation.’

  Outside the Abbess Hilda’s chamber, Brother Eadulf wiped a hand across his perspiring forehead.

  ‘You have made a bitter enemy in Alhfrith, Sister Fidelma.’

  The girl seemed disinterested.

  ‘The conflict was none of my seeking. Alhfrith is a bitter young man by his own nature and is at odds with his world. Making enemies is more easy to him than making friends.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ Eadulf said, ‘you had best have a care. Wulfric is his man and does whatever Alhfrith tells him. He probably lied about Canna on Alhfrith’s instruction. Could Alhfrith have killed Étain to create a problem in the synod?’

  Fidelma had not ruled that possibility out and said so as they turned into the cloisters.

  ‘What next?’ asked Eadulf.

  ‘Seven people are known to have visited Étain in her cell before she was found murdered. We have spoken with one of them – Canna the astrologer. Now we must speak with the other six.’

  Eadulf agreed.

  ‘Sister Gwid, Brother Taran, Abbess Hilda, Bishop Colmán, Brother Seaxwulf and Agatho the priest from Icanho,’ he counted.

  Fidelma grinned lightheartedly.

  ‘You have a good memory, brother. That is good. We will learn nothing from Colmán and Hilda other than what we have already. They merely accompanied Étain to the midday meal and talked about the debate.’

  ‘Shall we see Sister Gwid first?’ he suggested. ‘As she was the abbess’s secretary she may well know something which could be of help.’

  Sister Fidelma sceptically shook her head.

  ‘I doubt it. I journeyed with her from Iona. She is a gawky but well-meaning girl. I do not think she was a close confidant of the abbess but simply followed her about with a sheep-like devotion. The abbess was once her tutor in Ireland.’

  ‘Even so, we should speak with her. According to Sister Athelswith, the abbess was arguing with her on the morning of her death. What could that have been about?’