He held the man’s head up by the hair.
Donennach leaned forward from the litter. There was a tightness at the corners of his mouth. ‘I do not recognise him,’ he grunted.
‘Nor should you, lord,’ replied Gionga. ‘But perhaps you will recognise the device that he wears about his neck.’
Donennach looked hard and then he pursed his lips in a soundless whistle.
‘Colgú, what does this mean?’ he demanded, glancing to where Donndubhain had helped the King of Muman move forward to view the body.
Painfully Colgú peered at the dead man. Fidelma and Eadulf stood with him. No one recognised the dead man but it was obvious what the cause of the concern was.
The man was wearing the collar and emblem of the Order of the Golden Chain, the élite bodyguard of the Kings of Cashel.
Donennach’s harsh tones suddenly rang out in agitation. ‘This is a strange hospitality which you observe, Colgú of Cashel. Your elite warriors have shot me. They have tried to kill me!’
Chapter Four
There was a long silence after the Prince of the Uí Fidgente had made his accusation.
It was Fidelma who finally broke the menacing stillness by inclining her head towards her brother who was standing with his face barely masking the pain of his wound.
‘If Colgú’s warriors shot and tried to kill you, Donennach, then they also tried to shoot down the King of Cashel.’
Donennach’s keen dark eyes examined her searchingly.
It was his chief warrior, Gionga, who articulated his unasked question.
‘Who are you, woman, who dares to speak in the presence of princes?’ His voice was still arrogant.
Colgú answered quietly although his voice was tight in pain. ‘It is my sister, Fidelma, who speaks and has more right to do so than any in this company for she is a
Gionga’s eyes widened visibly, realising that only an
Donennach was not so outwardly impressed. Instead his eyes narrowed slightly.
‘So? You are Fidelma of Cashel? Sister Fidelma? Your reputation is known throughout the lands of the Uí Fidgente.’
Fidelma returned his scrutiny with a grim smile.
‘Yes; I have been in the land of the Uí Fidgente — once. I was invited … to a poisoning there.’
She made no further elaboration, knowing that Donennach knew well enough the details of the story.
‘My sister is right,’ intervened Colgú, coming back to the original point. ‘Any charge that my hand is behind this evil act is false!’
Eadulf decided to take a hand again for he was worried about the wounds of the two men.
‘This is no time to discuss the matter. Both of you need your woundsproperly tended before infection sets in. Let us leave this discussion until a more appropriate time.’
Colgú bit his lip to control a spasm of pain in his arm. ‘Is it agreed, Donennach?’ he asked.
‘It is agreed.’
‘I will take matters in hand, brother,’ Fidelma said firmly, ‘while Eadulf attends to you.’
Gionga took a step forward, the annoyance showing on his face, but before he could speak Donennach raised a hand.
‘You may stay with Sister Fidelma, Gionga,’ he instructed softly, ‘and help her with this matter.’
There seemed an unnecessary emphasis on the word ‘help’. Gionga bowed his head and stepped back.
The bearers carrying the litter lifted the Prince of the Uí Fidgente and followed Colgú, helped by Donndubhain, up the steep path towards the royal palace. Eadulf was fussing at Colgú’s side.
Fidelma stood for a moment, hands folded demurely in front of her. Her bright eyes held a flickering fire which anyone who knew her would realise indicated a dangerous mood. Outwardly her features were composed.
‘Well, Gionga?’ she asked quietly.
Gionga shifted his weight from one leg to another and looked uncomfortable. ‘Well?’ he challenged in turn.
‘Shall we let the corpses of these two men be taken to our apothecary? We can examine them later and in better circumstances.’
‘Why not examine them now?’ demanded the Uí Fidgente warrior, a trifle truculently, but he was cognizant of her rank and appeared to realise that he must keep his arrogance in check.
‘Because now I want you to show me where and how you came on them and why you had to slay them instead of taking them captive that we might question their motives.’
Her tone was even and there was not trace of a rebuke in it. However, Gionga grew red in the face and seemed inclined to refuse. Then he shrugged. He turned and signalled to two of his men to come forward.
Someone called to them and Donndubhain came trotting back down the hill. He looked worried.
‘Colgú suggested that I might be of more help here,’ he explained, his facial expression attempting to imply that Colgú was not happy to leave his sister in the company of the Uí Fidgente warrior. ‘Capa and Eadulf are attending him.’
Fidelma smiled appreciatively. ‘Excellent. Gionga’s men are taking these bodies to the Conchobar’s apothecary. Have you a man to guide them?’
Donndubhain called to a passing warrior.
‘Escort the men of the Uí Fidgente with these bodies to …’ He raised his eyebrows interrogatively to Fidelma.
‘The apothecary of Brother Conchobar. Tell Conchobar to await my instructions. I wish to examine the bodies myself.’
The warrior saluted and motioned to the Uí Fidgente warriors, carrying the two bodies, to follow him.
‘Now, we will start from the spot where Colgú and Donennach were shot,’ Fidelma declared.
Gionga said nothing but he and Donndubhain followed Fidelma back to the square. The townsfolk of Cashel had not yet dispersed and many were huddled in groups whispering among themselves. Some cast furtive looks at the Uí Fidgente warrior. Fidelma could sense the dislike in their eyes. Generations of war and raiding were not going to be wiped from their memory as quickly as she had previously thought.
They reached the spot where the arrows had struck both Colgú and Donennach. Gionga pointed across the market square to a cluster of buildings on the far side.
‘When the first arrow struck, I looked round to see where it had come from. I saw a figure on the roof of that building there.’
The building he indicated was fifty metres away on the far side of the market square. It had a flat roof.
‘It was as I saw him discharging a second arrow that I shouted but it was too late to warn Donennach.’
‘I see,’ mused Fidelma. ‘That was when you spurred your horse across towards the building?’
‘It was. A couple of my warriors came close after me. By the time we reached the building, the archer had jumped down, still with his bow in his hand. There was another man there with a sword. I cut them both down before they could use their weapons against us.’
Fidelma turned to Donndubháin.
‘As I recall, you followed close behind, cousin. Does this accord with what you saw?’
The heir-apparent shrugged. ‘More or less.’
‘That is an imprecise answer,’ remarked Fidelma quietly.
