Night of the Lightbringer

by Peter Tremayne

  ‘Last night, Fidelma entered the abbey,’ he began.

  Brother Gébennach raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘The abbot agreed to speak with her again, did he?’

  ‘Not exactly. Fidelma was convinced that the murder of Spelán, the shepherd, was connected with the abbey.’

  The librarian frowned. ‘I thought she had spoken to Abbot Síoda about that and he had dismissed the matter?’

  ‘But not to her satisfaction. A woman called Brancheó was murdered also. Then a man from Connacht came to Cashel, saying he was looking for a fellow called Fursaintid, who was thought to be at the abbey. He disappeared from Cashel and a Brother Sionnach was found murdered there …’

  Brother Gébennach’s expression was one of genuine shock. ‘Febal was at Cashel?’ he said.

  ‘You know him?’

  Brother Gébennach was still staring at him. ‘And you say Sionnach is dead?’

  ‘You know Sionnach too?’ pressed Eadulf.

  There was no disguising the look of horror on the librarian’s face.

  ‘Sionnach dead, you say,’ he repeated softly.

  ‘We think Febal has fled to Ráth Cuáin. What do you know of him?’

  For a few moments Brother Gébennach remained mute, his eyes focusing on some unseen, distant object.

  ‘Brother Sionnach of Corcach was a good friend of mine,’ he said eventually, his voice flat. ‘He was a great scholar. Febal is a mercenary warrior who is paid by Abbot Síoda.’

  ‘Are you saying that Febal is not a poet from Connacht?’ Eadulf pressed.

  ‘He is a warrior hired by Abbot Síoda,’ the young librarian repeated. ‘He might come from Connacht but he hires his sword to whoever will best pay him.’

  ‘Will you help us?’ Eadulf took advantage of the situation presented by Brother Gébennach’s shock.

  ‘It depends what you want to do.’ The librarian seemed uncertain.

  ‘We want to get into the abbey unobserved so that we can rescue Fidelma.’

  ‘What exactly are you and Fidelma investigating in the abbey?’

  Eadulf decided to give him the barest of explanations.

  ‘We believe that the same person who killed Spelán the shepherd also killed Brancheó and your friend Brother Sionnach. Fidelma entered the abbey last night because she thought she could find a clue to unlock the killer’s identity. Now she has not emerged and the gatekeeper refuses us entry.’

  Brother Gébennach thought for a while. Then he said: ‘There is a complex of caves under the abbey.’

  Eadulf suddenly recalled what the hermit, Erca, had said.

  ‘Do those caves lead into the abbey itself?’ he asked.

  ‘Abbot Síoda showed me the way into the caves from the main courtyards of the abbey when he asked me to accompany him to fetch some materials that were stored there. Several of the caves are used for extra storage space for food, wine and other items.’

  ‘But is there a way into them from outside the abbey?’

  ‘There is. I discovered it when I took a wrong passage, saw light ahead and found that it was an exit onto the hillside behind the abbey. Brother Tadhg found me as I was coming out into the fresh air. He was furious at my mistake, as if he didn’t want me to know there was another exit or entrance. Anyway, he raged that I could have wandered the caves, been lost and no one would have ever found me. I found that curious as I was perfectly all right; his concern was unreasonable. Anyway, the cave system didn’t appear to me to be that large or complicated. I think I remember where it would lead out to.’

  ‘So will you take us there – take us to this place on the hillside where you think this entrance to the caves would be?’ Aidan asked.

  The young librarian looked questioningly at Eadulf. ‘There is one thing I want to understand. I had heard that Fidelma was Sister Fidelma and yet she does not seem connected with any religious house. Why is this?’

  Eadulf was surprised by this sudden change of topic.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because I need to know why I am helping you.’

  ‘The facts are widely known. Fidelma left the religious some time ago. She is now legal adviser to her brother, King Colgú, and no longer a religieuse.’

  ‘Ah, they did not know that in Rome,’ Brother Gébennach reflected, almost speaking to himself.

  ‘It is some time since we were both in Rome,’ Eadulf told him. ‘She would hardly be known there.’

  ‘Why did she leave the religious?’ the young librarian queried again, almost brusquely this time.

  Eadulf shrugged. ‘Quite simply, she was not destined to be a religieuse. When she qualified in law, her brother was not even the heir apparent at Cashel, even though her father had been King. I know little of the intricacies of your ways of royal succession. However, the cousin of Fidelma and Colgú was King at the time and not well disposed to them. Fidelma was in need of security. The Abbot of Darú, some distant relative, advised her to join the religious and, as it happened, the Abbess of Cill Dara needed a legal adviser, so Fidelma joined the abbey for a while. Then she left. It is as simple as that.’

  ‘I see,’ the librarian said thoughtfully. ‘She does not hold any strong views about the Faith?’

  ‘Strong views?’

  ‘She did not follow any particular philosophy or sect that would make her oppose any which disagreed with her?’

  Eadulf was puzzled for a moment and then he shrugged. ‘Oh, you mean the conflict between the church practices of the Five Kingdoms as opposed to Rome? She disagreed with the ideas that Rome was putting forward at the counsels at Streonshalh and at Autun. But you must know, most of the churches of the Five Kingdoms and even beyond in Britain and in Gaul, do not fully accept dictates of the councils of Rome even while accepting the main tenets of the New Faith.’

  Aidan made an impatient sound. He had been silent during most of the exchange. ‘We are losing time,’ he said. ‘Let us not waste it, debating religion.’

  Brother Gébennach nodded. ‘I apologise. I was just interested in whether the lady Fidelma had any special opinions about the Faith and why she left it. Please forgive me. It is the librarian in me who reads omnivorously about religious matters.’

  ‘We are purely interested in gaining access to the abbey,’ Aidan replied shortly, ‘because we believe that Fidelma is being held there against her will and her life may be in danger.’

  ‘What makes you think this?’ replied Brother Gébennach. ‘You said that she entered the abbey last night. How? Who let her in?’

  ‘No one let her in. She … she gained entry through the herb garden and climbed in by a window.’ Eadulf felt it time to admit some of the truth.

  Brother Gébennach put his lips together in a soundless whistle. ‘And this was during the night?’

  ‘Yes. We waited for her and by dawn she had not returned or communicated with us. So, we decided to confront the gatekeeper by riding up to the main gate and demanding to see her.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Brother Tadhg came to the wall, not to the gate. He gave us a lot of nonsense but basically denied that she was being held a prisoner, saying that those who entered of their own free will could leave of their own free will. That makes me think that she was caught and made prisoner. Her life hangs in the balance.’ Eadulf swallowed hard.

  ‘So that is why you want me to guide you through the cave system and into the abbey?’

  ‘If you are certain that is an alternative way into the abbey.’

  The young librarian hesitated. ‘Do you believe that Febal killed Brother Sionnach?’

  ‘Exactly so,’ Eadulf agreed.

  ‘In that case, I will take you to where the entrance is. However, it is best we leave the animals here and climb to that point. On foot we have less chance of being spotted by Febal’s warriors.’

  Eadulf looked to Aidan for advice and the warrior agreed. They left the cabin, having ensured the horses and ass were near water and something edible to k
eep them going. They were about to leave the sheltering copse when Aidan motioned them back. Not far across the slopes of the hill where a gentler incline carried a track, they saw a wagon piled high with logs being pulled by a couple of sturdy mules. The figure of the man who sat guiding them was familiar. Aidan identified him first. It was Torcán the woodsman.

  ‘He seems to be taking wood to the abbey,’ muttered the young warrior.

  ‘He mentioned something about having to take logs to the abbey this morning,’ Eadulf remembered. ‘Best let him pass. We’ll stick to our plan not to involve him.’

  ‘He will continue on that track to the main gate,’ Brother Gébennach said. ‘We ourselves will swing round to the back of the abbey – but from lower down the hill. That is where the cave entrance is.’

  The grey stone buildings of Ráth Cuáin rose menacingly from the hilltop as they ventured around the lower slopes. They reached a spot where the ground began to rise upwards with a steeper elevation. The southern slopes of the Hill of Bullock were more precipitous than on its northern side. The land was mostly rocky and bare. However, in one or two places there were stony breaks in the ground that formed small, cliff-like falls.

  Eadulf could see why the local chieftains had built their fortress on such a hilltop. It would not be so easy to attack from this direction and could be well defended on the less precipitous slopes.

  ‘Let us hope no one sees our approach, for now we are in open countryside with only the boulders and dips in the hill to cover us,’ Eadulf fretted.

  ‘I don’t recall that Febal and his mercenaries bother to watch this side of the hill. It is too difficult to approach,’ answered Brother Gébennach cheerfully. He peered around and then pointed. ‘You see that clump of trees there?’

  A little way ahead, an isolated group of grey willows that were more shrubs than trees provided one of the few areas of cover on the hillside.

  ‘I believe the entrance to the caves is not far above those trees as I think I recall seeing them when I was looking out of the cave mouth.’

  ‘Hopefully, not far above,’ muttered Aidan. ‘If we need to get to our horses in a hurry, it is now a long way to the burnt-out cabin.’

  Brother Gébennach showed slight irritation for the first time. ‘If you had brought them any closer, warrior, the horses would be seen.’

  They paused among the boulders and the curious copse of willow trees to examine the terrain. Brother Gébennach suddenly let out an exclamation and pointed up the stony hillside to a flat patch in front of what appeared to be a natural wall of grey limestone rock. Fronds of ivy and other similar growth obscured most of this wall. It took the men but a short while to ascend onto this natural shelf. Brother Gébennach walked to the ivy-clad wall, turned his back to it and stared out over the hillside. Then he smiled broadly.

  ‘That is the view I saw, that I told you about. So the entrance of the cave must be …’ He turned and pulled at the growth which hung like a curtain over a small natural opening.

  Brother Gébennach chuckled. ‘Behold, my friends, your entrance into the caverns beneath the abbey.’

  Eadulf stood back and gazed upwards. ‘We are still quite a way below the foot of the abbey walls,’ he reflected. ‘That must mean the caves or vaults are considerably deep underground.’

  ‘You have a good eye, my friend,’ agreed the young librarian. ‘It is true. I recall now that we descended many rock-hewn steps. But the tunnel you are about to enter here rises on an incline and there are several side caves leading off it. Then there is also a series of steps cut into the rock that take you further up until you reach the main caves which are used as the abbey storage rooms.’

  ‘Presumably the passages will be in darkness,’ said Aidan, thinking of the practicalities of the situation.

  ‘If I remember rightly, they keep brand torches not far inside the entrance,’ Brother Gébennach said. ‘We can use those. Wait here, I’ll fetch them.’

  With that he disappeared behind the plant growths obscuring the entrance. Eadulf immediately cast a worried glance at Aidan.

  ‘All of a sudden, this is getting too easy,’ he whispered. ‘The news of Brother Sionnach’s death seemed to shock Gébennach. He clearly knew him – and not just by reputation. Be on your guard. I no longer trust our helpful librarian entirely.’

  Aidan snorted. ‘I never did.’

  Just then, Brother Gébennach reappeared. In his hand he held an oil lamp.

  ‘This is even better than a brand torch, for they would probably have been damp and hard to light,’ he said, holding it out. ‘However, I trust you can supply the teine creasa, warrior?’

  Every warrior carried a flint, steel and tinder as the means of lighting a fire. Some warriors were proud of the quickness with which they could produce what was also known as tene lám or handfire. Aidan immediately took the materials from a leather pouch on his belt and set to work. The lamp was soon alight.

  ‘Excellent,’ the librarian said, turning to the tunnel entrance. ‘I saw a second lamp with this one, so we can light that as well.’

  True enough, a short distance in was a rock shelf on which there was certainly another lamp and the remains of stubs of candles, some burnt out. Brother Gébennach lit the second lamp and handed it to Eadulf.

  ‘I’ll lead the way,’ the librarian announced.

  The tunnel quickly ascended, twisting a little this way and that. Eadulf noticed there were several small areas, no bigger than alcoves, that led off from the tunnel and he glanced into each in passing. But there was little of interest in them, just empty spaces. It was only when the incline became less noticeable that Eadulf saw smaller passages leading off the main one.

  ‘Have these ever been used?’ he called.

  The librarian turned back with a frown. ‘I don’t know. We are only a short distance from the main cave in which the storage areas are situated, along with the steps leading into the abbey kitchens.’

  Eadulf had raised his lantern high. On a jagged rock a little way inside the entrance of one of the small passages, a torn piece of sacking was hanging as if it had been ripped off as someone passed by and had not noticed its loss.

  ‘Something tells me that I should take a look,’ he declared, turning into the tunnel. Aidan followed behind.

  This smaller tunnel had a few natural cavities. While the main tunnel that they had been following had been hewn and expanded for many generations so that it was no longer a natural cave entrance, this was definitely formed by nature. Here, the area was cold, damp and neglected. There were even curious pointed rocky growths hanging from the roof and some even ascending from the floor, and Eadulf was aware of the constant sound of dripping from hidden water deposits. Within a short distance the roof began to lower and now and then he had to duck to avoid banging his head. He was about to turn back when a dark aperture caught his eye. He moved forward, lamp before him, then he let out a sharp breath. The niche contained a number of sacks, piled one upon another.

  Aware that Aidan, who had been following dutifully, was standing behind him, Eadulf turned and handed him the lamp.

  ‘Hold this and let me have your knife.’

  The warrior obeyed without a word. Eadulf leaned forward and cut at one sack. Then he put his hand in and took out a hard metal lump. It shone silver in the flickering light of the lamp.

  Aidan gave a soft whistle. ‘I think we have found Prince Gilcach’s stolen silver.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Aidan lifted the flickering lamp as high as he could in the confined space. ‘Look at these sacks,’ he breathed. ‘There must be nearly a dozen – and all filled with silver ore. Most of it seems smelted already.’

  Eadulf did not want to confess that he was more amazed than Aidan at the find. Then he gave way to a little smugness. His instincts had been right: the mystery was all connected with the attacks on Prince Gilcach’s boats taking silver from his mines to the sea port of Port Lairge. Here was the proof. It was not the mysterio
us book that Fidelma had thought lay at the centre of things. Spelán had simply been involved in the theft of the silver, and the caves of the abbey were being used to store it.

  ‘There is more than a fortune here,’ he whispered.

  ‘I had heard from Gormán that Brehon Fíthel had gone north to start an investigation into the thefts – and all the time the silver was stored here,’ declared Aidan, sharing Eadulf’s satisfaction.

  ‘You have done well, Brother Gébennach, in bringing us here,’ Eadulf began, turning to address him.

  Brother Gébennach was not behind him.

  ‘I can’t remember him following us in this cave,’ Aidan admitted, looking round in consternation. ‘Sorry, I was too busy following you.’

  ‘He’s probably waiting for us in the main tunnel,’ Eadulf said. ‘I’ll take a piece of this silver as proof and we’ll rejoin him.’ He took a small pebble of the metal and held it to the flame of the lamp. ‘It looks similar to the piece you found in Spelán’s cabin. He was obviously involved.’

  Back in the main tunnel, there was no sign of the librarian nor any glow from his lamp to indicate he was waiting for them.

  Aidan swore softly. ‘I thought he was right behind us. I fear he has gone to warn them. I think we have been betrayed. We should have kept a better watch on him.’

  ‘It’s too late now to speak of blame. I am going to move on and see if I can find Fidelma. You don’t have to come.’

  ‘Come I will,’ Aidan asserted. ‘Our first task is to rescue Fidelma, not to report this stolen silver. She is the one who is most in danger.’

  ‘Then let us move before Brother Gébennach alerts his comrades,’ Eadulf instructed, turning and leading the way along the passage that they had been following originally.

  It was only a short distance before the passage opened out into a central cave that was already lit with brand torches. There were many signs of continual use. Boxes and barrels were stored here and there.

  ‘Look!’ whispered Aidan, pointing across the cave. ‘Some of the side caves have been blocked off as separate units and wooden doors have been made. There are three doors over there. This must be the main storage cave.’