The entertainment continued on until Abbess Líoch placed a hand in front of her mouth and feigned a yawn. It was simply a diplomatic means to herald her standing up and expressing her sorrow that tiredness had overcome her. Colgú with a smile indicated that she could withdraw and the abbess, followed by her young steward, left the hall. Fidelma glanced meaningfully at Eadulf and he knew that after the next piece of music, she would repeat this method to retire and so was ready when she, too, made the same gesture.
In fact, when they rose to depart, Colgú also ordered the musicians to be dismissed, remarking that the following day would be a long one and they all needed rest.
Fidelma and Eadulf left the feasting hall and began to walk unhurriedly back to their own apartments.
‘I keep wondering about this Venerable Victricius,’ Fidelma remarked. She had told Eadulf what Gormán had noticed about the lacerations on the back of the corpse. ‘I don’t suppose you ever heard his name in Rome?’
‘Victricius may not be common but it is certainly not unknown,’ offered Eadulf. ‘There was a bishop of that name in a town called Rotomagus in Gaul. He had served in the legions until he was converted.’
‘How do you know about him?’ asked Fidelma.
‘Do you remember when we were in Menevia? Abbot Tryffin told me about him.’
‘Our shipwreck on the shores of Dyfed is not one of my more pleasant memories,’ Fidelma said stiffly. ‘But why would Abbot Tryffin tell you about a former Roman soldier? I thought the Britons disliked them?’
‘It seems that this Victricius endeared himself to the Britons and they invited him to settle a dispute between their bishops. Of course, that was many, many years before my people began to settle on the island of Britain. In fact, Abbot Tryffin showed me a book that this Victricius wrote — De Laude Sanctorum.’
‘In Praise of Saints,’ translated Fidelma.
‘So,’ concluded Eadulf, ‘there are probably many people with that name — Victricius.’
Fidelma was quiet for a moment and then said: ‘Gormán thought that Victricius might be one of those ascetics who ritually flagellate themselves. Yet the scars of the flogging showed that they had been made sometime in the past.’
They had been passing along a short passageway which ran between the King’s quarters and the building which housed their own apartments. The passage was lit with two brand torches — one at either end — which threw shadows here and there on to the greystone walls.
It was Fidelma’s sharp sense of hearing that saved them. A scraping noise came from somewhere above them. When a movement flickered on the gloomy walls that seemed out of place amid the shadows of the night, she did not hesitate but abruptly pushed Eadulf forward and leaped after him. They both tumbled in a heap on the cold stone flags just as a heavy piece of marble smashed into the ground behind them, splintering as it did so and sending fragments flying in all directions.
Fidelma was back on her feet in a second, peering cautiously upwards.
Eadulf stared at the remains of what had been a statue — one of several that stood on the roof of the King’s apartments.
Figures came rushing out of the dark, alerted by the thunderous sound. Enda, holding a lantern, was leading them.
‘What happened?’ he demanded, and then he saw the fragmented statue and was shocked. ‘Are you hurt?’
Fidelma shook her head while Eadulf, rubbing his forearm, muttered, ‘A few scratches from the splintered marble.’
Fidelma stood gazing at the remains for a moment or two. There was something familiar about it. It was a statue of some grotesque Otherworld creature with wings. She shook herself, almost like a dog shakes itself after an immersion, and then seemed to spring into action.
‘Enda, you and your men will follow me,’ she commanded.
Eadulf was still in shock while the others were already moving, following Fidelma in through a side door in the building.
‘What is it?’ he demanded breathlessly, catching up with her.
‘A statue the size of a small child does not fall of its own accord,’ she flung back at him over her shoulder.
Eadulf almost halted as the implication struck him. But the warriors, with Enda and his lantern, were pushing by after Fidelma as she hurried towards the stairway which led up to the flat roof of the building. Then he was rushing after them. As they raced upwards, Enda’s companions took two of the lighted lanterns from the walls.
They burst onto the roof with lanterns held high. It seemed deserted. On either side of the roof ran a broad parapet. There had been six statutes placed on these parapets — three along each side — except one was now missing on the side that had overlooked the narrow passage.
‘Make a search,’ Fidelma rapped out. ‘Enda — bring your lantern over here.’ She moved to the empty space where the statue had stood on the parapet and examined it.
Eadulf looked over her shoulder. He could see white scuff-marks on the stonework; pieces of stone seemed chipped, as if someone had been trying to dig something out. Fidelma sighed.
‘What is it?’ asked Enda.
‘It is as I expected. You’ll see where the statue was placed, like the others still are, in the middle of this broad parapet. It is not possible for it to fall of its own accord. So someone had to push it to the edge. They had to use a metal bar to do so. Hence the dents dug into the stone — there and there.’ She pointed. ‘See the scuff-marks as the statue moved? It was pushed to the edge, then whoever did this waited until they saw us enter the passage. They must have leaned over, looking down. As soon as they saw us, they made the final push. I heard the scraping sound. Had I not. .’ She shuddered.
Enda’s men had rejoined them.
‘No sign of anyone, lady. But we found this by the other door.’
It was an iron bar just over a metre in length, with both ends hammered flat.
‘Well, that’s what was used as a lever to push the statue over,’ Fidelma said. ‘What of the other door that gives access to this roof?’
‘It is bolted on the other side.’
‘If the assassin left by that means, then he must have thrown the bolt,’ Enda offered.
‘It is the only means by which he left,’ Fidelma said grimly. ‘No one passed us as we came up the other stairway, did they? So whoever did this has escaped.’
‘Where does the other stairway lead?’ asked Eadulf. The building was the King’s apartments, and he was unfamiliar with parts of them.
‘It gives access to the King’s guest quarters,’ explained Enda. ‘From there, stairs lead to the quarters for the King’s personal attendants, the King’s quarters and the council chamber and feasting hall.’
‘So the culprit would have easy means of leaving the building? That is a pity.’
‘That is not so,’ Fidelma interrupted quietly. ‘At night, members of my brother’s bodyguard are posted at all the entrances. The Nasc Niadh have become especially vigilant since the attempt to assassinate him.’
Enda was nodding in agreement. ‘Moreover, we are also vigilant since the High King, Sechnussach, was assassinated in his own bedchamber at Tara.’
‘Then. .’ Eadulf began but Fidelma was already moving and issuing orders.
‘One of your men guard the bolted door, lest the assassin, thinking we have gone, comes back on the roof and tries to escape by other means.’
Enda had time to motion one of his men to follow her orders before Fidelma was racing back down the stairway, into the passageway. Followed by the others, she darted back into the main courtyard and to the guarded portals of the King’s quarters.