‘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, rígdomna Cnoc Aine.
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.
Fidelma, bending by the dog, ordered him curtly to bring the candle nearer. The beast did not stir. There were flecks of foam around its muzzle.
Fidelma glanced up at her companion. ‘This animal has been drugged.’ She came to her feet so abruptly that Eadulf started back. ‘For what purpose was it drugged?’ she demanded. Eadulf was quiet for he deemed it a rhetorical question.
She contemplated the darkened house.
Then she was hurrying back to it with Eadulf following in her wake, wondering what on earth was possessing her.
She paused in the main room which they had just quit and looked swiftly around. Then she muttered something under her breath and headed for the stairway to the floor above.
Eadulf shrugged helplessly as if expressing his perplexity to some unseen audience and followed.
In the sleeping quarters above the stairs Fidelma had come to a halt and was staring at an object stretched on the bed.
Behind her, Eadulf raised his candle high.
Samradán the merchant lay sprawled across the bed. There was blood all over him and the haft of a knife was still buried in his chest. His eyes were open but glazed in death.
‘Too late,’ muttered Fidelma. ‘Someone has decided that Samradan might lead us to the truth.’
‘What truth?’ demanded Eadulf in desperation.
She infuriated him by not replying. Her thoughts were elsewhere. She bent down and examined the knife. There was nothing to identify it from a hundred similar knives. There were no distinguishing marks on it at all; nothing to point to its ownership. There was nothing she could see to identify the killer.
‘Finguine!’ Eadulf decided. ‘He was leaving when we arrived. He was in league with Solam and Gionga. God! Now I see why you were upset that Finguine had taken Brother Mochta and the reliquary.’
She nodded absently. Then something caught her eye. In falling back, Samradan must have clutched at his assailant’s clothing for in his twisted fingers was a piece of cloth, part of a linen shirt. Sherealised, with all the blood about, the assailant must be splattered with it. She reached forward and levered the cloth from Samradan’s fingers, realising that there was something attached to it.
It was a small, silver, solar emblem. A brooch picked out in semi-precious garnets. There were five garnets on each of the radiating arms of the emblem. She quickly placed it in her marsupium after showing it to Eadulf.
‘It must belong to the murderer,’ Eadulf said, stating the obvious.
‘You have not seen this before?’ queried Fidelma.
‘It seems familiar,’ agreed Eadulf.
‘It is the central piece in our game of tomus.’ She smiled, before returning to the body to examine it further.
Eadulf s hand suddenly squeezing her shoulder made her start. She glanced round and was about to rebuke him for frightening her when she saw that he had placed a finger to his lips. He motioned with his head towards the stairs.
The sound of someone moving in the room below could clearly be heard.
Fidelma stood up. ‘Be ready,’ she whispered.
Footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs. They saw the point of a sword appear first and then the head. It was Donndubhain.
The young heir-apparent of Cashel stared at them in surprise..
‘What are you up to?’ he demanded, recovering from his apparent surprise. He ascended the final stairs, sheathing his sword. ‘I thought I heard …’
His eyes fell on Samraddn’s body and widened.
‘What happened?’
Fidelma did not reply immediately.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded at last.