who accompanied the Princeof the Uí Fidgente when he rode into Cashel. I recognised him when he rode with Donennach.’
It was Eadulf who exclaimed in disbelief: ‘Gionga? Do you mean Gionga, the captain of the bodyguard of Donennach?’
Della shrugged miserably. ‘The Uí Fidgente. I do not know his name. All I know is that when Donennach rode into Cashel, that man was in charge of the bodyguard of the Prince.’
Fidelma stood quietly, as if trying to recover her scattered thoughts. ‘I think we have a problem,’ she said quietly.
Brother Bardan was regarding them in bewilderment. ‘I do not understand.’
Fidelma did not respond but looked at Della and smiled tightly. ‘I must ask a further favour of you, Della. Eadulf and I must go now. I need you to look after Brother Bardan here until Eadulf or I come for him. This will be tomorrow evening.’
‘I can’t!’ protested Della. ‘You see what they have done …’
‘Lightning does not strike twice in the same place, Della. Now that they have Brother Mochta and the reliquary, no one will think of looking here for Brother Bardán.’
Brother Bardán’s face continued to be a mask of confusion. ‘I do not understand at all. Why should I hide now? Finguine is protecting Brother Mochta and has the Holy Relics safe.’
Fidelma did not answer him and continued to look at her friend. ‘Della, I need you to do this for me.’
The woman gazed into Fidelma’s eyes for a moment or two and then sighed. ‘Very well. But, like the Brother here, I wish I understood.’
‘Understand, both of you, that the well-being of this kingdom of Muman depends on doing exactly as I have told you.’
‘Very well.’
Fidelma opened the door and motioned Eadulf to follow her back into the darkness of the night. Della came to the door and forced a smile on her anxious features.
‘Solitude is the best society and a short abstinence from solitude urges the sweet return,’ she said.
Fidelma returned her smile. She felt sorrow for the woman whose life she knew had been filled with so much unhappiness. She reached out her hand and touched the other’s arm.
‘We are all of us condemned to solitude, Della,’ she said, ‘but some of our sheltering walls are merely our own skins and thus there is no door to exit from solitude into life. We are thus condemned to solitude for all our lives.’
They left the house of the reclusive former prostitute and walked back along the night-darkened alleys of the town.
‘How did Finguine know where you had hidden Brother Mochta and the reliquary?’ demanded Eadulf.
‘Remember you told me that you saw Nion in the tavern nearby? The fact that we had ridden out of the side street here was duly reported to Finguine. It would not take much investigation by Finguine to discover that I have one particular friend here and that is Della. He must have put two and two together. He must have realised that I had recovered the reliquary and Brother Mochta after he had failed to find them.’
‘Yes, but why take Gionga with him? Finguine claims that he hates the Uí Fidgente. I confess to being as confused as Brother Bardán.’
‘Remember that I told you of the game of
‘Do you know where Samradan lives?’ asked Eadulf.
‘Yes. Donndubháin pointed the house out to me when we were examining his warehouse the other week.’
They walked along a back path, away from the main street of the town. After a while, Fidelma halted to indicate a house. It was a rich, two-storey construction of timber. There was no light emanating from the building. They had approached it from the rear. Fidelma was about to move through the backyard to the rear door of the house when there came a rustling sound and then a low whine. Screwing his eyes up in the gloom, Eadulf saw a dark shape on the ground and caught at Fidelma’s arm.
‘Samradán’s guard-dog!’ he warned.
Fidelma could see the shape as well. The dog lay by a post and the rustling appeared to be the leather thong, by which it was tethered, moving as it turned. It appeared actually to be sleeping, whimpering as it lay there.
‘Some guard-dog,’ muttered Eadulf. ‘But good for us that it is still tethered and sleeping.’
‘It means that we will have to go round to the front of the house,’ replied Fidelma.
Eadulf led the way along the side of the building. The dog was not disturbed. But on reaching the corner he stopped abruptly and motioned Fidelma to move back into the shadows.
‘There is a horseman outside the house,’ he whispered.
Fidelma moved cautiously forward to find a vantage point.
A tall figure sat astride a horse, resting slightly forward in the saddle, examining Samradán’s house with some intensity. He was alone.
The moon shone brightly enough. There were almost no shadows at all.
Even in the gloom Fidelma would have recognised her cousin, Finguine,
Chapter Twenty-Two
Even as Fidelma watched, Finguine straightened in his saddle, as if he had come to a decision, and pulled on the reins of his horse, turning and sending the animal trotting down the main street towards the towering fortress above the town. Fidelma and Eadulf waited until he had gone before they moved out of the shadows.
‘Why is Finguine hanging around Samradán’s house?’ whispered Eadulf. ‘He seems to be keeping bad company. First Solam and then Gionga and now the merchant.’
‘Let us hope that we can persuade Samradan to answer our questions honestly,’ Fidelma rejoined.
Eadulf glanced up at the house.
‘The front is in darkness as well. Perhaps he is not here?’
‘With his dog still tethered at the back?’ She moved forward and some instinct made her try the door of the house first. It was not secured and swung open. She entered cautiously and motioned Eadulf to follow.
They had entered into the single ground-floor room which served as living room, kitchen and store room. A short stairway led to the sleeping quarters. There was a fire glowing in the central hearth and its radiance gave sufficient illumination to the room for Fidelma to see that it was deserted.
‘What did I say?’ muttered Eadulf. ‘He is not here.’
Fidelma cast him an irritable glance. ‘Then he can’t be far away for the fire has been banked recently. Light a candle from it.’
Eadulf did so. Fidelma was already moving around the room, examining it.
‘I can’t see what you hope to find here?’ muttered Eadulf, his eye nervously on the door. ‘And Samradan could come back any moment. What then?’
Fidelma did not reply. Having examined the room, she went to the back door. It was unbolted from the inside. She opened it and looked out. The dog was still lying by the post, stretched out and whining in sleep. It was then Fidelma realised that there was something odd about the animal’s behaviour. At night, dogs came alive in Muman for thenthey were untethered and sent to guard the houses against predators, both human and animal. Why was this animal stretched in sleep, and an unnatural sleep at that, for the sound it made was quite pitiful.
Ignoring Eadulf protest, she walked quickly to where it was chained and bent down.
Eadulf, coming up behind, determined to persuade her to leave. In his haste he came running out with the candle flickering in one hand.
