The Seventh Trumpet (26 page)

‘Some of your brethren need lessons in choosing the rush wicks that are not damp when they are dipped in the oil, and ensuring the oil is clean,’ he said. ‘That would lessen the fumes and smoke.’

‘We are a poor community and as yet have no time for such niceties,’ Brother Sillán replied over his shoulder.

Eadulf was about to retort that a community that could afford such ostentatious new buildings could afford to light them better, but he felt Fidelma’s hand squeeze his arm and he fell silent.

Brother Sillán halted before a door and threw it open.

‘This chamber is for the warriors,’ he announced, indicating the dark interior with a motion of his head.

‘There appear to be no windows,’ muttered Gormán, peering inside.

‘The chamber is placed facing towards the interior of the abbey. There are candles and oil lamps to provide enough light,’ responded their guide.

‘And where is our chamber?’ enquired Fidelma.

‘On the floor above this one, if you will follow me.’ He took them to a small wooden stair a little way along the corridor. ‘You will find a door further along from your chamber where a
dabach
has been prepared for you and your husband.’

A
dabach
was a large wooden tub or vat and it was the duty of those providing hospitality to have either such a tub or even a stone
long-foilcthe
or bathing vessel ready at this time, for the custom was for a full body-wash before the evening meal.

As Brother Sillán continued to lead the way, Fidelma turned to Gormán, who was about to enter the dark chamber, and motioned him and Enda to follow her.

They climbed the stair behind Brother Sillán and came up into another corridor, but this time one side of it was unenclosed and overlooked a small courtyard. It appeared to be the centre of the main abbey buildings and was open to the sky. In fact, the corridor ran around this courtyard on all four sides. A roof covered the corridor, supported by pillars. All around this flagged walkway were doors which led into various chambers. Dusk had descended but lamps had been lit and Fidelma noticed that one of the doors bore the encouraging inscription
Fothrucad
– bathing – engraved on it.

Brother Sillán had bent to open a door before he turned and saw Gormán and Enda behind Fidelma and Eadulf. He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut as Fidelma moved into the chamber and gave it a quick examination.

‘At least there is a window and ventilation on this floor,’ she said. Then she regarded their guide solemnly as she moved back out of the room. ‘Let us see what this next chamber is like.’

‘Lady, this is the best of our guest chambers,’ protested Sillán.

‘I do not doubt it. Now open this next chamber.’

Brother Sillán stared at her, not sure how to handle this. Before he could frame a negative response, Eadulf had pushed the door open.

‘It is a similar chamber with a window,’ he announced. ‘It looks unused and there are several cots.’

‘That will be more suitable for my warriors, rather than allowing them to be consigned to such a dark, odious chamber as the one below,’ Fidelma said firmly. ‘They can be within call if they are needed by me. I believe the bathing chamber is also for their use?’

‘There is cold water for them below,’ Brother Sillán grumbled.

‘The trouble is,’ Fidelma’s voice was almost confiding, ‘that my warriors are of the élite bodyguard of my brother, the King. They have grown used to more indolent ways. We can all wash in the bathing chamber.’

It seemed that Brother Sillán had given up the trial of wills.

‘I shall see that more water is prepared,’ he replied sullenly. Then, giving the hint of a shrug, he hurried away without another word.

‘Gormán.’ Fidelma turned to the warrior with a serious expression, her voice low. ‘I am certain that Sillán was the man whom you and Eadulf were told was waiting at the shed for the abductors – the same one who said I was not the right woman who should have been taken with Torna. The timbre of his voice gives him away. He must also have recognised me as soon as we arrived. I suggest that you and Enda do not leave your weapons more than a hand’s grasp away.’

‘That might be difficult, lady.’ The warrior was clearly troubled. ‘You will recall, it is the custom that no weapons are allowed into a feasting hall and when we go for the evening meal it would be impossible to take our swords with us.’

‘Then take your
gláede
– you can use the excuse that you need it to eat with.’ The
gláede
was a sharp dagger. ‘But leave your swords and any other weapons hidden in a place where they might not think to look, if your chamber is searched.’

Gormán asked no further questions but joined Enda in the adjacent chamber.

‘Is there a bolt on this door, one on the inside?’ she asked as Eadulf closed the door.

Eadulf glanced at it and then answered affirmatively. ‘Why would there not be?’

‘Indeed,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Why? Gormán and Enda were shown to a chamber that had the bolts on the outside and none on the inside; no window nor any ventilation. We must be on our guard.’

‘Are you sure about Brother Sillán?’ he asked. ‘You are only going by the sound of his voice.’

‘I am sure. Do you not feel the antagonism in this place?’

‘I admit that I have had a more friendly welcome in the Tower of Uaman, Lord of the Passes of Sliabh Mis,’ Eadulf admitted, remembering Uaman the Leper, who had kidnapped their son and imprisoned Eadulf in his tower.

‘Have you ever known an abbey to choose a steward from someone so young and inexperienced and who has not taken vows?’

‘The abbot said he had appointed him.’

‘You should not forget that it is the fashion of our abbeys to elect both the abbot and his officials in accordance with our custom and law. How could a young – and frankly aggressive – man, lacking knowledge especially of the etiquette of such communities, be put in charge of the daily running of this place?’

Eadulf sighed deeply. ‘In our travels we have seen many peculiar things, but the whole demeanour of the abbot and the way the brethren behave are certainly at odds with their calling … Therefore I agree. I have never seen religious conduct themselves in this way.’

‘If Sillán is here, then at least we know Torna is here as well. Now we have to discover where he is and what the purpose is of this abbey.’

‘Anyway, we will have to leave tomorrow morning,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘We can demand one night’s hospitality but we have no excuse to stay longer, especially if they are already suspicious of us.’

Fidelma nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, before we take any further step, I am going to have my bath.’

As Fidelma entered the
fothrucad
, or bathing chamber, she found a young girl stoking the fire to keep the water hot. She stood up nervously and then, to Fidelma’s astonishment, she placed a finger to her lips, crossed to the door, peered out and shut it before turning to her.

‘Don’t be alarmed, lady. I mean you no harm.’

Fidelma’s body had tensed, ready for anything.

‘Who are you and what do you want?’ she demanded.

Once again, the girl raised a finger to her lips. She was no more than twenty years old, with curly black hair and pleasant features, except that they were now grimy with soot and the robes she was wearing were torn and ill-fitting.

‘My name is Ségnat, lady. You and your companions are in great danger here. You must leave as soon as possible.’

Fidelma felt the fear in the other’s shaking form.

‘So what are you doing in this place, Ségnat? In fact, what manner of place is it?’

‘I am a
daer-fuidir
, a hostage brought here when Cronán’s men captured me. I am of the Uí Duach, and I have been here for two years. Unless you escape, you too will remain here as a hostage – or even worse. This is the Fortress of Cronán.’

‘We realise that this is no abbey and we have been greeted with hostility, but so far no physical threats have been made to us. I have seen no sign of imminent danger.’

‘When I went to receive instructions from Sillán about preparing your baths, I heard him talking to his cousin Anfudán. It is their intention to lull you into a false sense of security in order to learn what you know about them and their plans. Then you will be made prisoners.’

‘What do you know of their plans?’

‘Lady, I am only a
daer-fuidir
– I am not privy to their secrets. I only know that they are evil.’

‘If we attempt to leave tomorrow, what then?’

‘They will either find an excuse to keep you here, or you will not be allowed to leave.’

‘Do you know where they are holding Torna?’ Fidelma asked.

To her surprise, the girl looked blankly at her. ‘I know of no one by that name.’

‘He was a captive brought back here yesterday.’

The girl thought a moment. ‘There is word that a prisoner was brought here yesterday, but no one is sure where he is being held. There are many secret places in this fortress.’

‘It was in search of him that we came,’ Fidelma told her. ‘Why does Cronán pretend this is an abbey and he an abbot?’

‘He has been trying to hide his activities from the Prince of Osraige, from Tuaim Snámha. But what his intentions are, we do not know.’ The girl grew more agitated. ‘You must escape before first light otherwise you will never be allowed to leave. There are several Uí Duach who are hostages here; they can show you a way to leave without being seen.’

Suspicion immediately came into Fidelma’s mind. ‘If you prisoners are able to do this, why have you not escaped yourselves?’

Ségnat’s face was grim. ‘Because if we do, Cronán has threatened to kill our relatives and friends. That is what keeps us here and praying for rescue from outside.’

Fidelma shook her head in disbelief. ‘He could not do that. It is unthinkable!’

The girl’s face became contorted. ‘He could and he has. A few months ago, one of our number did escape. Five of his friends, including his own cousins, were executed in Cronán’s rage.’

When Fidelma had recovered from the shock, she asked: ‘Did they recapture him?’

Ségnat shook her head.

‘What was his name?’ Fidelma asked.

‘He was a warrior of the Uí Duach called Tormeid. Please,’ she added, ‘time is pressing; they might get suspicious. You must escape. We can help.’

Fidelma thought for a moment and then sighed. ‘We must make an attempt to find this prisoner first. But even then I can’t see how we can escape. Say we managed to get beyond these walls, what then? In the middle of flat bog land without horses, how far would we get?’

To her surprise, the girl said, ‘You would have your horses with you. Cronán’s men are lazy and it is the
daer-fuidir
who are given the task of looking after the animals. The stables cannot hold all the horses; there is a passage to a paddock just outside the walls where the rest are kept. We have ensured that your horses have been taken there. Cronán’s men know we will look after them and won’t escape, after what happened to Tormeid’s cousins and friends. We will make certain that your horses are saddled and ready when the time comes.’

‘But what will happen to you if we escape?’ protested Fidelma.

‘Cronán wants to instil fear in us by threatening our friends and relatives whom he holds. You have no friends and relatives here and we will simply deny any knowledge of you.’

‘Did this Tormeid know that the price of his escape would be the death of others?’

Ségnat shook her head. ‘It was because Cronán’s own daughter escaped with him and was, so we heard, drowned during the flight, that he went berserk and did this terrible thing; then threatened us with the same punishment.’

‘He could do the same to you if we got away,’ Fidelma said.

‘Lady, we hear that you are the King’s sister. If you escape, then you can alert your brother to what is happening in this place. You are our only hope for the rescue of all our people.’

‘But how can we walk through the gates, even in the middle of the night?’

‘We will help you. There are many of us here who laboured to build this place. We were forced to do so for the Lord of Gleann an Ghuail.’

‘That is Cronán?’

Ségnat nodded. ‘He is Cronán, Lord of Gleann an Ghuail.’

‘For what purpose has this fortress been built?’

They heard a faint noise and the girl stiffened in terror, muttering, ‘I will contact you here, lady, after midnight. You must not let anyone know that you suspect anything. You must all be ready so that none of your party is left behind, otherwise they will surely be executed. You and your companions must be well away from here before first light.’

The solemn toll of a bell brought Brother Sillán to guide them to the evening meal. Fidelma had thought that she was past surprising, but then, instead of being led into an abbey refectory, they were taken into a small chamber which appeared to be Cronán’s private dining room. There was not even a token pretence that this was an abbey. She had already informed her companions of her conversation with Ségnat, but warned them not to express any surprise or suspicion at anything they saw.

A turf fire smouldered, sending out its aromatic heat, and candles and lamps flickered over the wooden platters and goblets that had been laid. Cronán was waiting for them at the table and gestured Fidelma to sit beside him. She noticed that there was no sign of Anfudán. Eadulf sat opposite while Gormán and Enda were shown seats at the end of the table. Sillán took a seat on Fidelma’s other side. Once all were in place, Cronán made a gesture to Sillán, who rang a hand-bell.

A
dáilemain
, or distributor of food, emerged through a side door carrying platters and began to serve the food. Fidelma noted that the abbey did not appear to stint itself on meat, fowl and fishes. A joint of lamb was placed on the table and the
dáilemain
, using the fingers of his left hand to hold it, dexterously cut off a large piece and brought it on to Fidelma’s platter. He repeated the performance, moving with the joint by each of them. Each diner held a knife in the right hand and used the fingers of the left as was custom. Fidelma wondered whether these servers were all
daer-fuidir
, just slaves in this curious fortress.