Eadulf gazed incomprehendingly at the warrior, knowing he was paying him a compliment. ‘Who?’
‘He was the greatest physician in all Muman,’ declared Gormán. ‘Have you not heard of the Battle of Crinna that took place up in Midhe, the Middle Kingdom?’
Eadulf shook his head. Exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. His thoughts were becoming jumbled. A horse blanket lay near the fire and he went across and sat down on it. He could hear Gormán’s voice without really understanding the words.
‘Crinna was fought over four centuries ago, even before the Eóghanacht established Cashel as the centre of their kingdom. Tadg son of Cian was King in those far-off days. Fingín was his chief physician. The story is that a king from Ulaidh, one Fergus son of Imchadh, marched his army into Midhe in an attempt to overthrow the High King, Cormac son of Art. Cormac called upon those provincial kings who were loyal to him to come to his aid. Only Tadg and his warriors marched from Muman to help him. There was a great battle at Crinna in which Fergus was defeated and killed. But in the battle, Tadg was badly wounded; some say his skull was split open. His physician Fingín went to his aid and healed him. He was hailed as the greatest of all physicians.’
Eadulf tried to smile but could not summon the energy.
‘The time to comment on my competence, Gormán,’ he tried to say, wondering why a fog seemed to be welling out of the surrounding forests, ‘will be in the morning and. .’ He was falling. .
He felt the strong arms of Gormán catching him. Someone cried out in alarm and he heard Gormán say: ‘It’s exhaustion, that’s all. He. .’
The voice receded into the distance and Eadulf seemed to be swimming in a dark pool with no sense of space or time.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Fidelma came awake with someone shaking her shoulder. She was sitting up in a moment, ready to defend herself. However, it was only Muirgen, the nurse. The sky was light but grey, and it must be well after dawn. She had slept long and deeply. She was about to apologise when it became obvious that Muirgen was waking her for a purpose.
‘What is it?’ Her first thought was of her husband. ‘Is Eadulf back?’
Muirgen shook her head. ‘No, lady, it is Enda who asks you to go to the gates immediately.’
‘Immediately? I am not up yet, not washed or dressed.’
‘He said it is most urgent, lady. Another body has been found.’
It took a second for the news to register before Fidelma swung quickly out of bed and was frantically seeking her clothes. She began hurriedly dressing with the aid of Muirgen.
‘It is not Deogaire who has been found?’ It was the first thought that came to her.
‘He did not say, lady.’ Muirgen pushed Fidelma onto a stool and began to tidy her hair with the means of a comb. Fidelma fretted, moving impatiently while the old nurse attended to her toilette. Finally free, she raced out of the chamber, across the courtyard and towards the gates, where Enda and another warrior stood with a man who looked familiar: it was the stonemason she had spoken with earlier. Fidelma gave an inward groan. She had meant to ask her brother to place a guard on the scaffolding, but had forgotten all about it.
‘What is it?’ she asked breathlessly, glancing from Enda to the stonemason.
The warrior indicated that the stonemason should speak first.
‘Me and my lads were coming to start this morning’s work, lady,’ the man began nervously. ‘It was just getting light. We found a body at the base of the scaffolding. It was obvious from the way it lay that the man had fallen from the top to the bottom. He was quite dead.’
Fidelma’s mouth felt dry with fear. ‘You didn’t by any chance recognise him?’
‘Sadly, we did.’
‘Why sadly?’
‘Sadly, because he was the man who employed us to do the building work.’
‘I don’t understand. The work is done on behalf of my brother. .’
‘His steward, lady. Beccan. He was the man we dealt with.’
She stared at him, so intensely that he dropped his gaze and shuffled unhappily before her.
‘You mean that the body is that of Beccan?’ she repeated, as though she had not understood the first time.
‘That is so, lady. It was the body of Beccan the steward.’
Several thoughts were going round in her mind, most of them spurred by guilt. Having found out that Beccan had lied about the woman who was supposed to be ill in the hut in the woods, his story contradicted by Deogaire, she had been determined to confront him. But she had decided to let a night pass; lull Beccan into a false sense of security before tackling him head on. If she was right, and Beccan was involved, then this death could be blamed on her inaction. She had even hoped that Eadulf might have returned with further information by now, because the key to the whole series of deaths, she now saw clearly, lay with what had happened on the River Siúr. Eadulf’s brother Egric was an important link to that.
Enda asked respectfully: ‘Shall I order the body to be brought around to Brother Conchobhar’s apothecary, lady?’
But the stonemason was talking. ‘It is hard to see how anyone could fall accidentally,’ he told Fidelma. ‘As you well know, there are plenty of ladders and platforms. To miss the ladders or fall off a platform. . well, it doesn’t seem likely. Me and my men have been working on such scaffolding for years without a single mishap.’
‘So you think he was helped to fall?’ she asked. ‘Or jumped?’
The man shrugged. ‘It is not my place to say. I am responsible for the scaffolding, and if any accident happens, I would have to pay compensation. My opinion therefore must be biased, lady.’
Fidelma turned to Enda. ‘Is Deogaire still safe in the Laochtech?’
‘As you instructed, lady. He has been guarded night and day.’
‘Then let us look at this scaffolding first before we remove the body,’ Fidelma said. She led the way up the steps onto the wall which surrounded the palace complex. It was a short walk to the south-west corner of the ramparts. She was still silently cursing herself that she had not carried out her intention to have her brother post a sentinel by the scaffold. The stonemason and Enda watched her as she made a quick examination of the wall and the scaffolding. Her eye caught a large piece of dressed stone, not quite fitting correctly on the wall. As the wall was being rebuilt, that would not have been a matter of particular interest. What caused her to prise it loose and examine the underside of it was the sight of dark staining on the bottom. She placed the stone to one side on the top of the wall before leaning forward and peering downwards across the parapet.
‘I presume that you found the body just to the side of the scaffolding?’ she asked the stonemason.
The man gave a nod. ‘Aye, lady.’
‘There was blood on the head?’
‘Of course, lady. After such a fall. .’
‘Blood on the back of the head?’
‘He must have hit the back of his head hard. I noticed a great wound on that part of the skull.’
Fidelma turned to the others with a grim face. ‘Beccan was murdered: he did not fall from the scaffolding by accident.’
The stonemason’s mouth gaped stupidly. Enda whistled softly. ‘How can you tell, lady?’ he asked.
Fidelma lifted the piece of masonry she had taken from the wall and showed them the blood. ‘Beccan had injuries to the back of the head. I take the stonemason’s word for it, although we shall shortly confirm it when I view the body. It seems that this rock was used to inflict those injuries by his killer. The blood is still fresh on the underside.’