move forward, forcing his companion to go with him.
Fidelma stood for a moment looking at the pieces that had once constituted the marble statue. Then she peered up at the empty alcove that rose ten metres above them in the great vaulted passageway. There had been five statues along each side, and now one of them was missing.
There was a movement from the mason’s room behind her. She turned to find that another young, dark- headed religieux had arrived; he was looking about him with dismay.
‘What happened, Sister?’ he demanded.
‘One of the statues fell from its plinth up there,’ Fidelma replied.
‘One of the old statues?’ echoed the Brother, sounding shocked.
‘Have they all stood in those positions a long time?’
‘They have been there since the time of the Romans. They have certainly stood in perfect safety for as long as I have been here. It is strange that one of them has fallen now. Perhaps it is an evil omen.’
‘The omen would have been distinctly evil had it fallen on anyone,’ Fidelma replied dryly.
‘Then no one was hurt?’
She did not respond but looked up at the alcoves high above her. ‘Tell me, is there any way one can get up to those alcoves? They seem particularly deep and I see light from behind them as though there is a space there.’
The religieux nodded. ‘Indeed there is, Sister. There is a walkway along each side behind the places where the statues stand which the stonemasons used to use. In fact, they are still used for the upkeep of the roof and other high stonework.’
‘Is it easy to get access to that walkway? How would I get to it from here, say?’
‘You wish to go up there?’ The religieux seemed surprised.
‘I do.’
He looked around as if wondering what to do, and then said: ‘Very well. I can show you.’
Just behind the doors through which they had entered, Fidelma now saw a narrow open doorway that her companion pointed to. There was a small circular flight of stone steps that moved upwards as if ascending some round tower. Fidelma took a step forward and peered up. She could see light at the top of the stairwell so she ascended a step before the cautious voice of the religieux halted her.
‘Do you really mean to go up, Sister?’
‘That is precisely what I do mean,’ she replied firmly.
‘It is dangerous. After all, if that statue has fallen, it shows that the stonework can be insecure.’
‘I’ll chance it.’
‘I should come as well, just in case of danger. Let me lead the way.’
Fidelma shrugged and allowed the young man to ascend the spiral stone stairs before her. He did so nimbly and without hesitation.
It was not long before the stairs emerged onto what appeared to be a wooden-floored gallery. There was an outer wall to one side with windows giving onto the daylight while the other side consisted of the alcoves she had seen from below, containing the large stone statues, each nearly two metres in height. One alcove was empty and it was to this that she went directly.
The gallery continued on to another stairwell and vanished beyond.
‘Where does this gallery eventually lead?’ she asked her companion.
‘Beyond that far wooden door is the
Fidelma examined it for a moment. ‘It is not blocked up like the main doors below.’
‘It is simply locked. Only the bishop has the key. And no one comes here usually.’
She turned her attention back to the alcove.
The first thing she realised was that there was no way that the statue could have fallen of its own accord. Her eyes went to the plinth, which was still fairly intact but bore signs of indentations and fresh scratchmarks where a metal lever had been employed with brute strength to create a fulcrum by which the heavy stone statue could be tipped as they were passing.
She bent down to examine the marks more carefully, and a sudden chill went through her. Her suspicion had been correct. Someone had deliberately tried to kill them.
Whether it was some intuition or a reaction born of the years in which she had carried on the profession of a
She saw the young religieux suddenly beside her, tottering for a second; his hands had been held out before him, ready to push her from the alcove into the passage below. His eyes bulged as he waved his hands in a desperate effort to recover his balance, and then with a great scream of fear he toppled and fell crashing down into the debris of the statue below.
Chapter Sixteen
Brother Gebicca was shaking his head as he peered at Eadulf’s leg.
‘You and Sister Fidelma certainly seem to be testing my abilities in the matter of healing leg wounds,’ he frowned. ‘Yes-what is it?’
His last remark was addressed to Brother Benevolentia, who was standing by looking impatient.
‘Am I needed further?’ Benevolentia asked. ‘I have things to attend to, for Bishop Ordgar.’
It was Eadulf who dismissed him for there was no further assistance that he required.
Eadulf waited while the physician bathed his leg. With the blood washed away, Brother Gebicca regarded the wound.
‘A small cut and some abrasions,’ he commented. ‘Nothing that won’t heal quickly, but there will be some bruising. How did it happen?’
‘I was in the old passage of statues and one of the statues fell.’
Brother Gebicca looked surprised. ‘You were in the forbidden gallery?’
‘I believe that is what it is called.’
‘Bishop Leodegar has forbidden the brethren to use it. Why were you there?’ the physician asked. Then, as Eadulf hesitated, he said: ‘No, don’t tell me. Hold still while I cleanse and bind this wound.’
Heart beating fast, Fidelma went on all fours and peered over the edge of the galley to the mosaic floor below. From the position of the head of the fallen religieux, there was no need to consider whether the young man was dead or not. Voices were calling from below and two of the brethren including, she noticed with surprise, Brother Benevolentia, were below, bending over the fallen body. Fidelma pulled back quickly in case they saw her, and breathed deeply to recover from the shock of what had happened.
Then she was on her feet and moving swiftly back along the gallery. She tried not to think of the young man. She had confirmed what she had suspected and, if further confirmation had been needed, she now knew that at least one of the brethren was involved in an attempt to kill them. Then she realised that there must be others. The thought made her pause as she came to the head of the stairwell. If she went down now, she would immediately be seen. Perhaps another potential killer was among them. It suddenly occurred to her that there was also only her word that he had tried to push her to her death.
She looked around, wondering if there was a way of avoiding the noisy group of religieux who had been joined by others around the dead body below. The wooden-floored gallery continued on beyond the stairwell. She followed it and after a while came to a second stairwell. This, surely, would place her beyond the view of the corridor. She made her way carefully down and, at the bottom, emerged into part of the abbey kitchens. Fortunately, there was no one about. She moved swiftly across to a door that provided an exit into the main courtyard before the chapel, then turned and hurried towards the apothecary’s house.
Eadulf was having his wound dressed when she entered. He looked relieved to see her. There was a question in his eyes but she ignored him.
‘Is it serious?’ she asked Brother Gebicca.
