Garb looked uncomfortable. ‘My father felt that brother Pol’s intermediacy was sufficient. But we did not hear from him again and after many months we decided to ask Brother Laisre here to make contact with her …’
‘Just a minute,’ Fidelma interrupted. ‘How did you know Brother Laisre?’
It was the Irish religieux who answered.
‘Brother Pol, the intermediary who took Gélgeis’s messages to Maigh Eo, had told Gadra about our little group here in Tunstall. So Gadra communicated with me to see if I could make contact with Gélgeis and ascertain what was happening. At the same timehe was anxious to learn the reason why he had not heard from Brother Pol.’
‘And did you contact Gélgeis?’
‘I tried, and that was when I discovered that Gélgeis was dead.’
‘One thing I would like to ask,’ intervened Eadulf. ‘You must know all the Irish in this area. Who is the young woman of Éireann with the red-gold hair who dwells close by the abbey?’
Brother Laisre looked blank. ‘A young woman with red-gold hair? I know of no such woman of our people in the land of the South Folk.’
Eadulf was surprised. He had told Fidelma on the journey what he had seen at the woodsman’s hut.
‘Perhaps she is a newcomer?’ suggested Fidelma.
Brother Laisre shook his head. ‘I would know of such a newcomer from our land and, if the truth be told, Sister, she would not long escape attention.’
Fidelma sighed. ‘Very well. I think, however, that you need to provide us with more details about your contact with Gélgeis. How did you set about getting in touch with her?’
‘She was dead by the time I tried to do so,’ explained Brother Laisre. ‘I went to the abbey disguised as a merchant and, by chance, it was Brother Botulf who spoke with me. I knew him before this nonsense decided at Whitby which has caused the split between us. He was a sympathetic man. It was from him that I learned that Gélgeis had, as her father and brother believed, grown unhappy. Cild was a vain and cruel man. He was unfit to be an abbot. Botulf said the girl had wandered into the marsh.’
‘Did Brother Botulf give any details of her death?’ Fidelma pressed.
‘No. He gave no details. Just that she had wandered into the marsh and that Cild was responsible. Those were his very words. Cild was responsible. There can be no interpretation to be placed on it other than murder. He told me that the body was lost in Hob’s Mire, an evil swamp of a place not far from the abbey. He said there was no use searching the quagmire for her body. He asked me to send word to her family that they should assume their daughter was dead to them.’
‘And Brother Pol had not returned with messages to Maigh Eobecause he was one of the brothers Abbot Cild had hanged for not submitting to the Rule of Rome?’ Eadulf was incredulous.
Brother Laisre simply nodded.
‘Not long after my meeting with Botulf,’ he continued, ‘Cild declared the abbey a closed house for the brethren believing in his rules. He drove several of the brethren out of the abbey. Some of them came here and joined me.’
Eadulf was eager. ‘Did you speak to Botulf again?’
‘Indeed, these events took place a few months ago. The messenger that I had sent to Maigh Eo had taken a long time reaching the sanctuary of Gadra’s fortress. His ship had been wrecked on the island of Mannanán Mac Lir, which lies between here and the land of Éireann. He was some time in finding a vessel to continue his journey. Gadra finally sent word back that he was coming here to seek reparation …’
Here Garb intervened.
‘My father is from the line of the kings of the Uí Briúin, kings of Connacht. He is a chieftain in whom the blood of the High King Niall of the Nine Hostages runs. He is proud and stubborn. Gélgeis is of his blood. He therefore determined to come to this strange land and seek reparation from Cild.’
Fidelma pulled a sceptical face. ‘The roscud.’
‘Aye, lady, the troscud,’ Garb replied firmly.
‘Truly,’ Eadulf put in, ‘your father must have loved his daughter with great emotion to embark on this course.’
‘He loved her as only a father loves,’ agreed Garb. ‘But we are also bound by honour as well as love and the troscud is our court of last resort. By the ritual fast we seek justice when our enemies are too powerful and arrogant to give it of their own volition.’
‘One thing that intrigues me, and forgive me for asking, but, as you perceive, I am a foreigner in these matters. What manner of person was your sister?’
Garb regarded Eadulf with some perplexity.
‘I do not know if I have understood your question, Saxon.’
‘I mean her temperament. Was her nature so unusual that her father, and perhaps yourself and your warriors, might give their lives willingly in her memory?’
Fidelma was slightly puzzled. She thought that Eadulf had understood the essence of the troscud and was wondering whyhe asked this question. Something made her realise that it was for a purpose.
Garb was not annoyed at the question. He smiled indulgently.
‘Gélgeis was my favourite sister. She brought tranquillity to any situation. She made a grey day fair, made the storm peaceful, made the troubled blithe of spirit. She was possessed of such a nature that she brought happiness to all who knew her.’
Eadulf blinked, thinking of Brother Willibrod’s words. Garb’s words sounded almost glib. While he hesitated, Fidelma took up the questions again.
‘Is there no dissuading your father from the course on which he has embarked? You must see that it will mean nothing to a man of Cild’s culture and, especially, to a man like Cild. Your father will simply be allowed to die. Cild — indeed, any Saxon not used to our ways — might simply regard the troscud as a joke.’
‘My father believes in the old ways and is determined.’
‘I will speak to him, for he must be dissuaded,’ replied Fidelma.
‘You will speak to him in vain.’
Eadulf was sitting staring ahead of him, his eyes unfocused as he turned over the facts and the differing pictures of Gélgeis that had been presented to him.
‘Brother Laisre, have you spoken to Botulf again? More recently?’ asked Fidelma.
‘A few weeks ago. That was when Gadra, together with Garb and his men, arrived here. I contacted Botulf and explained matters to him.’
‘How did Botulf react to your news?’
Brother Laisre glanced uncomfortably at Garb.
‘To be truthful, Brother, he shared your feelings that it was a waste of time. I explained the meaning of the troscud to him and he felt that no Saxon would truly understand its intent. I explained how Garb would have to come to the abbey to announce the start of the ritual and he promised to help.’
‘Did he?’
‘Oh yes. He managed to get Garb in to see the abbot on his own. That was a preliminary contact to ensure the abbot knew what was to take place. Cild laughed at Garb.’
‘Did Botulf warn you that this would be Cild’s reaction?’
‘Botulf said he was fearful … fearful for the relatives of Gélgeis. He said that there was an old saying of the Saxons — woe to him who is in a country where there is none to take his part.’
‘So he advised against the troscud?’
‘His advocacy was strong but I could only act as an intermediary. I told him the time and day that Garb would present himself at the abbey for the official announcement. We agreed that it would be on the tolling of the midnight Angelus bell when the brethren had been summoned to prayers in the abbey chapel. The announcement had to be made before the community.’
‘And it turned out to be the hour of Botulf’s funeral,’ muttered Eadulf.
Fidelma was thoughtful. ‘So Botulf knew that this would happen at the precise hour that it did?’