Free Behold a Pale Horse by Peter Tremayne Page B

this land. So, in spite of local tales, the bridge was here before Columbanus. Therefore, I think it will be safe enough to cross, Devil or no Devil.’
    The stone bridge was narrow, scarcely wide enough for two riding abreast, but the party crossed and found themselves on the lower slopes of the mountain which apparently rose in easy stages. Fidelma could no longer see the peak, which seemed to merge with the surrounding hills. The abbey, with its redbrick tiles and soft ochre stucco walls, dominated the area a little way up the hillside. Near it were various buildings, constituting a small township. Around the settlement were arable lands that had been cultivated for agricultural purposes. As they moved up the track closer to the abbey, Fidelma saw that its main buildings were enclosed by high walls from which some of the stuccowork had fallen, revealing blocks of stone. On the walls, near the gates, rose a bell-tower. Someone had observed their approach, and a slow regular chime of the bell sounded, ceasing after the fourth ring. The gates were tall, fitted in the walls, and seemed of a dark wood. She would have guessed they were made of oak. They were swinging open.
    The company had reached a point before the gates where the track divided, and here the warriors turned aside after a brief conversation with Magister Ado and a salute of farewell. They moved off towards the township, where the farmers and their pack mules were already heading. Magister Ado led the way up the short incline through the open gates. As they entered, one of the brethren approached with a look of astonishment on his features as he recognised Magister Ado.
    ‘Magister Ado! Is it truly you?’
    ‘If not I then it is my shadow,’ replied the elderly religieux, dismounting from his horse. ‘Indeed, Brother Wulfila, I have returned from my journey.’
    ‘The abbot shall be informed of your safe coming at once.’ His eyes alighted on Brother Faro, then widened in horror. ‘But you are hurt, my—’
    ‘It is nothing,’ Brother Faro almost snapped at him. Then, aware of his bad manners towards the steward, he dismounted and turned in more conciliatory manner. ‘Forgive me, Brother Wulfila. A slight pain has caused me a distemper. Mea culpa .’
    Brother Wulfila dismissed the apology quickly. ‘You must see the apothecary at once.’
    ‘I can take him there,’ offered Sister Gisa. ‘We have already dressed and bound the wound, but it needs to be checked.’
    Brother Wulfila hesitated. ‘You cannot wander the abbey without permission of the abbot. I am told to be strict about the Rule that demands the segregation of the sexes.’ He motioned to the man who had opened the gates for them. ‘Brother Bladulf, take Brother Faro to the apothecary, for he is in need of attention.’ Then he turned anxiously back to Magister Ado. ‘A fall from his horse?’
    Magister Ado shook his head. ‘An arrow from a bandit, I’m afraid.’ Brother Wulfila continued to look worried and was about to press for more information when Magister Ado presented Fidelma. ‘Sister Fidelma, this is Brother Wulfila, the steward of the abbey. Sister Fidelma’s old mentor is Brother Ruadán and it is to see him that she has come especially to our abbey.’
    At once, Brother Wulfila’s features grew solemn. ‘Then I am afraid, Sister Fidelma, that you have arrived only just in time. Poor Brother Ruadán started ailing a week or so ago and now he is not expected to be long in this world. His mind is already wandering.’
    ‘Yet he still lives?’ she asked anxiously.
    ‘He was severely beaten and lucky to escape with his life. Age hinders his recovery. Alas, we are told it is merely a matter of time.’
    ‘Then I would see him at once.’
    Brother Wulfila looked scandalised. ‘This is not a conhospitae , Sister. Women are only allowed in here with the abbot’s special dispensation. That is why I could not allow Sister Gisa to accompany Brother Faro to the apothecary.