Behold a Pale Horse Read Free

very sharp, Sister.’ Magister Ado frowned slightly and she noticed that a note of suspicion rose in his voice.
    ‘It is my nature. In my country, I am a trained advocate of our laws.’
    ‘Sister Fidelma?’ Sister Gisa suddenly turned. ‘Have you recently come from Rome?’ Before Fidelma could confirm it, the young sister said excitedly to Magister Ado, ‘It was a week ago, just before we left the abbey to come to meet you, when one of our brethren returned with gossip from Rome. He spoke of a Sister Fidelma from a place called Cashel in Hibernia. She had solved the mystery of the murder of a Saxon bishop which had taken place there. Even the Holy Father praised her. Are you this Fidelma of Hibernia?’ she added, seeking confirmation.
    Fidelma made a slight embarrassed grimace. ‘I do not deny it. My father was Failbe Flann, King of Muman, whose capital lies at Cashel in Hibernia. My brother is now the heir apparent to the kingship. But I am merely an advocate, as I have said, and was on a mission to Rome on behalf of the bishops of my country.’
    Sister Gisa was almost clapping her hands in delight. ‘Do you know Brother Ruadán of Eenish Keltrah?’
    Fidelma took a moment or so before she realised the young girl meant ‘Inis Celtra’. Her eyes widened in amazement. Memories of her childhood studying at the school run by Brother Ruadán came flooding into her mind.
    ‘Brother Ruadán of Inis Celtra was my tutor before I reached the age of choice. What do you know of him?’
    ‘Brother Ruadán serves our abbey,’ smiled Sister Gisa. ‘When your name was mentioned by our Brother from Rome, he said he knew you.’
    Fidelma tried to hide her surprise. ‘But Brother Ruadán … he must be very aged. Are you saying that he is dwelling in an abbey somewhere nearby here?’
    ‘Not exactly near here,’ Brother Faro intervened. ‘He is very aged. Alas, when we left the abbey a week ago he was confined to his cubiculum with the ague.’
    ‘But where is he? In what abbey?’
    ‘He is at the Abbey of Bobium,’ replied Sister Gisa. ‘He spoke of you with great affection, saying that he had once taught the young daughter of his king. He was certain that the Sister Fidelma mentioned at Rome was the same person that he once knew.’
    Magister Ado was regarding her with interest. ‘And is this true? Are you the same person who has won such approbation at the Lateran Palace from the Holy Father himself?’
    Fidelma was uncomfortable at the fuss and repeated: ‘I am Fidelma of Cashel. Where is this Abbey of Bobium? I should like to see Brother Ruadán again.’
    ‘It is up in the mountains, Sister. About three days’ ride on a good horse.’ It was Brother Faro who responded.
    Fidelma’s face fell a little with disappointment. Three days on horseback and, doubtless, she would need a guide in this unknown terrain. With little prospect of finding an immediate ship for Massilia, she could possibly afford the time, but where could she find a horse and guide? She still had a long journey before her to reach home.
    ‘Ah, then time and means prohibit my journey to see him,’ she said. ‘I beg your pardon, Magister Ado. I was letting emotion rule my mind. What was I saying?’
    Sister Gisa was refilling the clay goblets. ‘You were saying that you did not think the attack on the magister was just some street robbers taking their chance.’
    ‘What makes you think so?’ the elderly religieux asked.
    ‘Your demeanour for a start,’ Fidelma said. ‘Your hesitation about describing the men who attacked you. The way Brother Faro here was anxiously awaiting your coming and the words you exchanged. The fact that he waited while we entered this house before checking to see whether anyone was observing … There are many good reasons why this does not appear as some chance attempt at robbery. That is even before we get to the behaviour of the attackers themselves.’
    Magister Ado suddenly snorted with amusement.
    ‘I