The Monk Who Vanished

start for Imleach?’

‘Old Conchobar willing, I can start within the hour.’

Eadulf coughed discreetly.

Fidelma hid a smile. ‘I would hope, of course, that Brother Eadulf will see his way clear to accompany me to Imleach.’

Colgú turned to Eadulf. ‘Could we persuade you …?’ He let the question hang in the air without finishing.

‘I will do my best to render every assistance that I can,’ Eadulf offered solemnly.

‘Then it is arranged.’ Colgú gave a quick smile to his sister. ‘My best horses are at your disposal to hasten your journey.’

‘How far is it to Imleach?’ asked Eadulf anxiously, wondering if he had let himself in for a lengthy journey.

‘Twenty-one miles or so, but the road is straight. We can be there before this evening,’ Fidelma assured him.

‘Then the sooner you get Brother Conchobar to make the sketch of the crucifix, the sooner you can set out.’ Colgú reached out with his good hand and took one of his sister’s hands in his. ‘No need for me to say, be careful, Fidelma,’ he said gravely. ‘Whoever does not hesitate to stop at the death of Kings will not stop at the death of a King’s sister. These are dangerous times.’

Fidelma squeezed her brother’s hand reassuringly.

‘I will take care, brother. But your advice must be heeded by your own self. What has failed once might be tried again. So until we know who is behind this deed, make sure that you keep a wary eye upon the company you keep. I feel that there is danger here, brother. Here in the very corridors of our palace of Cashel.’

Chapter Six

Fidelma met her cousin Donndubhain while on her way to the stables to arrange for the horses for the journey to Imleach. Normally, a religieux below the rank of bishop or abbot would not be expected to travel by horse but Fidelma held rank, not only as the sister of the King but in her own right as a dalaigh. The heir-apparent to the throne of Muman was holding a sheaf of papers as he crossed the courtyard.

He grinned at his cousin and held them up. ‘The protocol as Colgú has instructed,’ he explained. ‘I am sure this is a waste of this paper.’

Paper was still scarce, an eastern invention, only a few centuries old, which was so costly that few of the Kings of Eireann bothered to import it. Good vellum was usually preferred as a symbol of their status.

Fidelma was serious. ‘I doubt it is wasted, cousin,’ she said.

‘Do you want to read through it? You have a better legal mind than I do.’

‘You are the tanist, cousin. I am sure things are in order. Anyway, I must be off. We have only nine days to discover the truth.’

‘Time enough,’ Donndubhain was encouraging. ‘I know you, Fidelma. You have a great gift of sifting sand and coming up with the single grain you seek.’

‘You think too highly of my capabilities.’

Donndubhain was two years younger than Fidelma but they had played together in Cashel as youngsters until the time had arrived when Fidelma had been sent away for her schooling.

Since their childhood together Fidelma had only seen Donndubhain a few times before she had returned to Cashel last year after her brother had become King and her cousin had been appointed heir-apparent. She knew he was a quiet, conscientious support for her brother. He might make light of the protocol but she knew that he had the mind of a good lawyer and there would be nothing wrong with the texts.

Donndubhain suddenly glanced around as if to ensure they were alone.

‘Sometimes,’ he said abruptly, with lowered voice, ‘I do not think your brother takes his position seriously enough.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He accepts the word of people too easily. Without questioning. He is honourable and therefore he believes everyone is honourable. He is too trusting. Look as this business with the Uí Fidgente. He trusts Donennach too readily.’

‘Oh?’ Fidelma was curious. ‘And you do not?’

‘I cannot afford to. What if Colgú is too trusting and this is a plot by Prince Donennach to assassinate Colgú? Someone has to be prepared to protect your brother and Cashel.’

Fidelma admitted to herself that she had been thinking as much. She remembered that only nine months before the Uí Fidgente had attempted to overthrow Cashel. The blood at Cnoc Aine was hardly dried and this change of heart, this willingness to make peace, was so abrupt, so sudden, that she could share her cousin’s suspicions.

‘With you as tanist, cousin, my brother need not fear,’ she assured him.

Donndubháin remained worried. ‘I wish that you would let me send a company of warriors with you,’ he said.

‘I refused my brother on this matter,’ Fidelma replied firmly, ‘and so shall refuse you. Eadulf and myself have made more dangerous journeys.’

Donndubháin frowned for a moment and then his face broadened into a smile. ‘You are right, of course. Our Saxon friend is a good support in times of danger. He has served Cashel well since he has been here. But he is no warrior. He is slow when you might need a swift sword arm.’

Fidelma found herself flushing as she felt that she should defend Eadulf. She was, at the same time, annoyed by her reaction.

‘Eadulf is a good man. A slow-footed hound often has good qualities,’ she added, indulging in an old proverb.

‘That is true. But beware of that Uí Fidgente, Gionga. I do not like him. Something about him makes me suspicious.’

‘You are not the only one, cousin,’ smiled Fidelma. ‘Have no fear. I shall be careful.’

‘If you see our cousin, Finguine of Cnoc Áine, give him my salutations.’

‘That I shall do.’ Fidelma was about to move on to the stables when she turned back. ‘Did you say that the merchant, Samradan, was trading at Imleach abbey?’

Donndubhdáin’s eyebrows gathered.

‘Yes. He frequently trades there. But the assassins would have chosen the roof of his warehouse at random. He could not be involved in this matter.’

‘I think you said that before. You have had business with him?’

‘That is so. I have bought a few items in silver from him.’ He touched his silver brooch. ‘Why?’

‘I do not know the man. Is he a native of the town?’

‘He has lived here for several years. Exactly how long, I do not know. Nor do I know where he came from.’

‘It is of no consequence,’ remarked Fidelma. ‘As you say, he cannot be involved in this matter. Now I must be on my way. We shall all meet here in nine days’ time.’

Donndubhain held up his papers and smiled.

‘Your brother will be safeguarded until your return. I promise. Go safely, cousin, and come back swiftly.’

The clouds that had so dominated the sky earlier that day had broken up. Now they drifted lazily and high like the fleece of grazing sheep, fluffy against the azure background with the afternoon sun occasionally breaking through to warm the pastures. There was still a faint breeze but the air was pleasant enough and not uncomfortable.