The Monk Who Vanished

‘What I mean to say was that I saw the archer jump down and join his companion but I did not see them raise their weapons. They seemed to stand waiting for the warriors to come up to them.’

Gionga snorted in disgust.

‘You mean, for us to come closer so that they could be sure of their targets?’ he sneered.

Fidelma began to walk towards the building without comment.

‘Let us see what we might find there.’

Donndubháin glanced at her, not understanding.

‘What would we find there? The assassins were both killed and the bodies removed. What can you find?’

Fidelma did not bother to answer him.

The building which Gionga and Donndubháin had identified was a low, single-storey building with a flat roof. It was a wooden structure. It looked more like a stable with two large doors at the front and a small side door. Fidelma, who had been born and spent her early years in Cashel, tried hard to remember what the building was. It was not a stable so far as she could recall but some sort of store house.

She halted and examined it with a careful gaze.

The doors and windows were shut up and there were no signs of life.

‘Donndubháin, do you know what building this is?’

The tanist tugged thoughtfully at his lower lip.

‘It is one of the store houses of Samradán the merchant. I think he uses it for wheat storage.’

‘Where is Samradán?’

Her cousin shrugged indifferently.

Fidelma tapped her foot impatiently.

‘Make it your task to find him and bring him to me.’

‘Now?’ asked Donndubhain, startled.

‘Now,’ affirmed Fidelma.

The heir-apparent of Cashel left to find the merchant, for even a Prince had to obey a dálaigh of the courts, aside from the fact that Fidelma was sister to the King. Fidelma walked around the wooden building, examining it. There was a small side door. She tried it and found it was locked. In fact, everything appeared shuttered and secured although, at the back of the building, she noticed a ladder leaning against the wall which had given access to the roof.

‘This was where I saw the assassins,’ Gionga pointed out. Fidelma glanced at him quickly. ‘Yet you could not have seen this from where you were crossing towards the front of the building.’

‘No. I saw only the archer, the man holding his bow. He stood on the roof and then he disappeared towards the back of it. I rode alongside the building just as the two men, one with the bow, the other with a drawn sword, emerged from behind the building.’

‘And at what spot did you strike them down?’

Gionga gestured with his hand.

The pools of blood had not dried up on the ground. They were sited at the back of the building but in view of anyone approaching from the square.

Fidelma climbed the ladder onto the flat roof. Towards the front of the roof, behind a small wooden parapet, lay two arrows. They had not been hastily discarded for they were placed carefully. Perhaps the bowman had put them there ready to enable him to shoot several times with rapidity. Fidelma picked them up and examined the markings on them. She compared them with the arrow tucked into her corded belt, the one Eadulf had taken from Colgú’s arm. Her mouth compressed grimly. She recognised the markings on them.

Gionga had joined her and was gazing at her moodily. ‘What have you found?’

‘Just arrows,’ Fidelma said quickly.

‘Fidelma!’

Fidelma peered over the parapet to where Donndubhain was standing below.

‘Have you found Samradan?’

‘I am told he is not in Cashel today. He is at Imleach trading goods with the abbey there.’

‘Presumably this Samradán does not live here?’

Donndubhain gestured with his arm. ‘From the roof where you are you might see his house. It is the sixth house along the main street there. I know the man and have traded with him.’ His hand went absently to the silver brooch at his shoulder. ‘I am sure he cannot be involved in this matter.’

Fidelma glanced along the street to the house which the tanist had indicated.

‘Well, it does not need answers from him to see what happened,’ Gionga cut in. ‘The assassins saw that this flat roof offered a strategic point from which to shoot at Donennach. They realised it was a store house; found a ladder and climbed up to await the arrival of my Prince. They thought they could get away in the confusion.’

He turned to look at the land at the back of the building.

‘They could easily have escaped into the copse behind. Why-’ his face lightened — ‘I will wager that is where we will find their horses tethered, waiting.’

He made to leave as if to prove his suggestion.

‘One moment.’ Fidelma stayed him with a quiet command.

She was examining the distance between the roof and the spot where Colgú and Donennach had been struck Her eyes narrowed.

‘Well, I will tell you one thing about our archer,’ she said grimly.

Gionga frowned but did not say anything.

‘He was not a good archer.’

‘Why so?’ asked the Uí Fidgente warrior, reluctantly.

‘Because from this point and distance it would have been hard tohave missed his target twice in succession. He could well have missed the first time but certainly not the second time when the target was stationary.’

She stood up and, taking the arrows with her, she went down the ladder with Gionga following. Her cousin was waiting for them at the bottom.

‘Did you hear Gionga’s suggestion about horses?’ she asked.

‘I did,’ Donndubhain affirmed non-committally. Fidelma received the impression that he did not think much of Gionga’s ideas.

They moved towards the small copse of trees. There was no sign of any horses tethered.

‘Perhaps they had another accomplice?’ Gionga hazarded, trying to hide his disappointment. ‘He saw his companions struck down and fled, taking the horses with him.’

‘Perhaps,’ agreed Fidelma, her eyes examining the track on the far side of the copse. There were too many signs of horses and wagons there to draw any firm conclusions.

Gionga stood scowling about him as if hoping to see the horses suddenly emerge from thin air.

‘What now?’ asked Donndubhain, hiding his satisfaction that the Uí Fidgente warrior had been proved wrong.

‘Now,’ sighed Fidelma, ‘we will go to Brother Conchobar’s apothecary and examine the bodies of these assassins.’

The elderly Brother Conchobar was waiting for them at the door. He stood aside as Fidelma approached with Donndubhain and Gionga behind her.

‘I was expecting you, Fidelma.’ He grimaced wryly. ‘And didn’t I warn you that no good would come of this day?’

Overhearing this, Gionga snapped: ‘What do you mean by that, you old goat? Are you saying that you had prior warning of this deed?’

Donndubháin reached out and put a warning hand on Gionga’s arm, for the warrior had seized the old man roughly by his shoulder.

‘Leave him alone. He is an old man and a faithful servant of Cashel,’ he said sharply.

‘He does not deserve to be treated thus,’ added Fidelma. ‘He saw evil in the patterns of the stars, that is all.’

Gionga dropped his hand in disgust. ‘An astrologer?’ He exploded a small breath against half-open lips in an