Atonement of Blood Read Free

bodyguard, moving forward, his sword in hand, and renewed his frantic efforts to recover his knife. He had partially succeeded when Caol struck at him. The sword blow went straight to the man’s heart and it was obvious that he was dead even before he reached the floor.
    The cries of horror now rose in a deafening roar. Beccan was standing as if rooted to the spot, his face a deathly pale.
    Eadulf was the first to reach Brehon Áedo but one look told him that the Chief Brehon was beyond help. He pulled the body off the slumped figure of Colgú and made a quick examination. The King was unconscious and blood still seeped from the wound in his chest. Eadulf was aware of Fidelma standing anxiously just behind him.
    ‘He is still alive, but only just,’ he said.
    ‘With respect, I am best qualified to attend to the King.’ It was the voice of old Brother Conchobhar, the physician and apothecary who had tended Colgú and Fidelma since they were children.
    Eadulf immediately moved aside. The old man was right. There was no need to debate the issue.
    ‘Will he live?’ Fidelma demanded, her voice cracking with emotion.
    ‘I can only do my best,’ replied Brother Conchobhar tersely. ‘The rest will be up to God.’ He knelt at the King’s side and began to remove Colgú’s tunic and shirt, to examine the wound.
    People were still milling about the feasting hall, their voices raised in disbelief, some trying to tell the story as they had seen it.
    Now Finguine, the heir apparent, sprang up on a table and called for silence, clapping his hands to add emphasis.
    ‘This noise is not helping,’ he called, when the level of cacophony receded. ‘You must all disperse and allow our physicians to take care of the King.’
    Reluctantly, the guests began shuffling to the door of the feasting hall, which had been thrown open. Gormán stood to one side, sword in hand, awaiting orders.
    Brother Conchobhar glanced up at Eadulf. ‘We need to have him removed to his own bedchamber where we may treat his wound in more comfortable circumstances.’
    Eadulf looked round to find Beccan, the steward. The man still seemed to be in a state of shock. ‘Help me to carry Colgú to his bedchamber.’
    Beccan stared at him as if he did not understand.
    ‘I mean now!’ Eadulf said harshly.
    The steward blinked and then became aware of his responsibilities. He carefully helped to lift the inert body of the King while Brother Conchobhar moved forward, guiding the way from the feasting hall.
    Realising that Fidelma was about to follow them, Eadulf told her: ‘There is little you can do to help; better surely to find out who this assassin is and why he struck!’
    Fidelma stared at him for a moment, as if she would disagree. Then, knowing he was right, she turned back into the hall to where Brehon Aillín stood looking down at the bodies of Brehon Áedo and the dead religieux. Then Finguine was at her side with a goblet of wine. He held it out to her without speaking. She took it and swallowed two mouthfuls, feeling its warmth in her body, helping her blood to flow once more after the trauma of the last few moments. Everyone seemed to be confused, not knowing what to do.
    ‘I must take over until … until Colgú is recovered.’ Finguine’s voice was quiet. It was as if he were asking for her approval.
    Brehon Aillín coughed nervously before she could respond.
    ‘And as poor Brehon Áedo is dead, as his deputy I should therefore take charge of the legal matters.’ It was true that Brehon Aillín was next in seniority among the Council of Brehons. ‘But, of course, as the King’s sister as well as a
dálaigh
, I would appreciate your assistance, lady,’ he added courteously. ‘Your experience in such matters is well known.’
    ‘Very well, Brehon Aillín,’ Fidelma replied after a moment or two. ‘Any advice that you or my cousin Finguine need, is yours for the asking.’
    Finguine looked relieved that a possible awkward moment had been