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down before they could use their weapons against us.’
    Fidelma turned to Donndubháin.
    ‘As I recall, you followed close behind, cousin. Does this accord with what you saw?’
    The heir-apparent shrugged. ‘More or less.’
    ‘That is an imprecise answer,’ remarked Fidelma quietly.
    ‘What I mean to say was that I saw the archer jump down and join his companion but I did not see them raise their weapons. They seemed to stand waiting for the warriors to come up to them.’
    Gionga snorted in disgust.
    ‘You mean, for us to come closer so that they could be sure of their targets?’ he sneered.
    Fidelma began to walk towards the building without comment.

    ‘Let us see what we might find there.’
    Donndubháin glanced at her, not understanding.
    ‘What would we find there? The assassins were both killed and the bodies removed. What can you find?’
    Fidelma did not bother to answer him.
    The building which Gionga and Donndubháin had identified was a low, single-storey building with a flat roof. It was a wooden structure. It looked more like a stable with two large doors at the front and a small side door. Fidelma, who had been born and spent her early years in Cashel, tried hard to remember what the building was. It was not a stable so far as she could recall but some sort of store house.
    She halted and examined it with a careful gaze.
    The doors and windows were shut up and there were no signs of life.
    ‘Donndubháin, do you know what building this is?’
    The tanist tugged thoughtfully at his lower lip.
    ‘It is one of the store houses of Samradán the merchant. I think he uses it for wheat storage.’
    ‘Where is Samradán?’
    Her cousin shrugged indifferently.
    Fidelma tapped her foot impatiently.
    ‘Make it your task to find him and bring him to me.’
    ‘Now?’ asked Donndubhain, startled.
    ‘Now,’ affirmed Fidelma.
    The heir-apparent of Cashel left to find the merchant, for even a Prince had to obey a dálaigh of the courts, aside from the fact that Fidelma was sister to the King. Fidelma walked around the wooden building, examining it. There was a small side door. She tried it and found it was locked. In fact, everything appeared shuttered and secured although, at the back of the building, she noticed a ladder leaning against the wall which had given access to the roof.
    ‘This was where I saw the assassins,’ Gionga pointed out. Fidelma glanced at him quickly. ‘Yet you could not have seen this from where you were crossing towards the front of the building.’
    ‘No. I saw only the archer, the man holding his bow. He stood on the roof and then he disappeared towards the back of it. I rode alongside the building just as the two men, one with the bow, the other with a drawn sword, emerged from behind the building.’
    ‘And at what spot did you strike them down?’
    Gionga gestured with his hand.
    The pools of blood had not dried up on the ground. They were sited at the back of the building but in view of anyone approaching from the square.

    Fidelma climbed the ladder onto the flat roof. Towards the front of the roof, behind a small wooden parapet, lay two arrows. They had not been hastily discarded for they were placed carefully. Perhaps the bowman had put them there ready to enable him to shoot several times with rapidity. Fidelma picked them up and examined the markings on them. She compared them with the arrow tucked into her corded belt, the one Eadulf had taken from Colgú’s arm. Her mouth compressed grimly. She recognised the markings on them.
    Gionga had joined her and was gazing at her moodily. ‘What have you found?’
    ‘Just arrows,’ Fidelma said quickly.
    ‘Fidelma!’
    Fidelma peered over the parapet to where Donndubhain was standing below.
    ‘Have you found Samradan?’
    ‘I am told he is not in Cashel today. He is at Imleach trading goods with the abbey there.’
    ‘Presumably this Samradán does not live here?’
    Donndubhain gestured with his arm. ‘From the