‘We can accept her account of what happened,’ agreed Fidelma. Yet there is something illogical here,’ she went on. ‘Even if the coin was gold, it could not be so valuable that it would need several to be involved in the conspiracy to kill the boy. There wouldn’t be enough for anyone to take a profit from the deed.’
Brother Eolann regarded her uncertainly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘First, we must include Brother Waldipert in this affair. Then we must include Abbot Servillius himself, as he valued the coin. Then we must include the warrior Wulfoald. The implication is that he might have killed the boy. He certainly found the body and took it to the abbey. We might even add Brother Hnikar who, as apothecary, would have washed and laid out the body for burial. He would have noticed if the body carried any marks to indicate an unnatural death — for I think Hawisa is arguing that the boy was buried before she could see the body and be aware that her son had been murdered.’
Brother Eolann shrugged. ‘I have not your clever tongue nor way of thought.’
Hawisa had been watching them very carefully during this exchange and suddenly spoke vehemently.
‘She says that all she knows is that she saw the gold coin. Wamba took it to the abbey and he was dead the next day. And now he lies in the graveyard of the abbey where she cannot pray daily, for the journey is too much. She contents herself by praying at the spot where he was found.’
The woman suddenly snapped out something in a harsh voice.
‘Report me to your abbot. I have no fear,’ translated Brother Eolann.
‘Neither do you need to fear,’ Fidelma assured her. ‘We are not here to report to Abbot Servillius. He does not know that we are here anyway, and we would prefer it that you did not tell anyone of our visit.’
Hawisa looked puzzled.
‘Tell her that I am just a visitor from Hibernia. I camehere because I am cursed with a curiosity about all things. And I heard about the story of her son, Wamba.’
Hawisa was still puzzled but seemed to accept that this was some sort of explanation. Once more Brother Eolann began to translate as she spoke. ‘The founder of the abbey was from Hibernia. I am told several of your countrymen come to visit the abbey in his memory.’
‘Exactly so.’ There was a silence and then Fidelma added: ‘Before we leave, we would say a prayer at the spot where Wamba fell, where you now go to say your daily prayer. Would you tell us the way there?’
Once again Hawisa was regarding Fidelma suspiciously. ‘Why would you want to see where my son fell to his death?’
‘It is not to see where but merely to say a prayer for his soul.’ Fidelma knew she was lying and hoped that Brother Eolann could translate her words with more sincerity. Hopefully, she would be forgiven for the lie as it was in the cause of seeking the truth.
Hawisa did not answer at once. She seemed to think carefully before telling them, ‘If you follow that path,’ she indicated a track through the trees just beyond the cabin, ‘follow it to the north-east, you’ll eventually come to two large rocks that divide the pathway. Do not take the descending path but follow on and you’ll emerge along a series of high rock formations. There is a small cairn which I raised to mark the spot. It was said that is the point from where he fell.’
Fidelma reached forward and placed a hand on the woman’s arm.
‘We are most grateful for your help, Hawisa.’
‘I ask you not to damage the little cairn. Someone did so between yesterday and this morning when I went to pray.’
‘We will not damage it,’ Fidelma promised, then she frowned. ‘What sort of damage?’ she asked.
‘The stones were knocked aside,’ replied Hawisa.
‘Oh. Perhaps it was some animal then?’
‘Not so. I built the cairn around a small wooden box in which poor Wamba used to keep a few things he prized. Coloured beads, stones and his favourite pipe.’
‘Pipe?’ queried Fidelma.
‘Most lads play pipes on the mountain. Simple things. It was only a rough box that he had made himself. Someone has taken it, and a curse on their soul for doing so. They are a disgrace to their cloth.’
Fidelma stared at the woman. ‘Their cloth? What makes you say that?’
Brother Eolann seemed to have some difficulty with translating. ‘A neighbour saw a man in religious robes taking the box and climbing down to his horse.’
‘It was taken by a religieux?’
‘Someone looking like a religieux,’ added Brother Eolann hurriedly.
‘Did this neighbour describe him or his horse?’ Fidelma waited impatiently for Brother Eolann to pose the question.
‘The neighbour could see no more,’ said Eolann, after a further exchange. ‘I asked where this neighbour was and she says that he has gone to the market of Travo and will be gone for some days.’
Fidelma thought for a moment and then rose slowly. ‘We will not damage the cairn. Be assured.’
‘Then I would be grateful for your blessing and your prayers before you leave. Forgive a grieving mother for my sharpness.’
It was Brother Eolann who intoned the prayers in the locallanguage before they bade farewell to the woman and followed the path indicated by her.
Although they were high on the mountain, they were still within the treeline, where tall beech trees interspersed with rowan were still dominant. Here and there were other trees which reminded Fidelma of oak, but were different. She had noticed these curious oaks before. She took the opportunity to ask Brother Eolann if he knew what they were. He told her that they were called turkey-oak and were native to the area. Here and there, birds flitted from branch to branch and she caught sight of white and yellow wagtails and sparrow-hawks.
Brother Eolann cast a glance at the sky, saying, ‘We mustn’t delay in reaching the sanctuary at the top. It will not be very long before twilight is upon us.’
‘Are there dangerous animals on the mountain if we do not make it and have to encamp for the night?’
‘In terms of big animals, I have seen foxes and wolves. But the one thing I hate is something that is not seen in our land.’
‘Which is?’ asked Fidelma curiously.
‘There is a snake called a vipera; its bite can be dangerous, for it injects a poison.’
Fidelma shivered a moment and glanced around her feet. ‘I have heard of the like but never encountered one.’
‘I have only once seen one,’ confided Brother Eolann. ‘Brother Lonán found it in the herbarium last autumn. It was curled up basking in the sun. He tried to pick it up, thinking it was a slow-worm, and it bit him and he was in pain for several days. Thankfully, Brother Hnikar had some potion and told Lonán to go and lie down and not to exert himself, for the action would carry the venom through his body. He recovered but it took many days.’
‘Then you must warn me if you see such a creature in my path,’ Fidelma said fervently. ‘Wolves and foxes do not worry me, but the idea of such creatures as snakes …’ She shuddered again.
They moved out of the shaded pathway on to an open rocky path on the mountainside. To their left the hillside rose steeply and was studded with boulders and dark grey rocks. To their right, the hillside fell equally steeply.
‘Ah!’ Fidelma exclaimed and pointed to a small pile of stones that lay a little way ahead of them. ‘That must be Hawisa’s cairn.’
There was nothing remarkable about the cairn, which Hawisa had raised in memory of her son.
Fidelma looked about with a critical eye. Then she moved to the edge of the path, to where the hillside fell away steeply. Some twenty metres or so below them was a broad track which was obviously used frequently.
‘What track is that?’ she asked.
‘It is a track that leads across the mountains from the north and, if one continues down into the valley, it comes to the abbey,’ confirmed Brother Eolann.
Fidelma peered over the edge. ‘It’s quite a fall, but easy to climb down. That is doubtless where this person who took the box left his horse, climbed up and then returned with the box.’