The Monk Who Vanished Read Online Free PDF Page A

was so like Fidelma at moments of intense amusement.
    Colgú drew rein on his horse and leant forward abruptly to greet his sister.

    It was that action which saved his life.
    The arrow impacted into his upper arm with a curious thud, causing him to cry out in pain and shock. Had he not halted his horse and bent down, the arrow would have impacted in a more mortal target.
    In the shock of the moment, everyone seemed to stand as if turned into stone. It seemed a long time but it was less than a couple of seconds before another cry of pain rang out. Donennach, the Prince of the Uí Fidgente, was swaying in his saddle, a second arrow sticking in his thigh. In horror, Eadulf watched him sway and then topple from his horse into the dust of the road.
    The impact of the falling body caused everyone to burst into a frenzy of activity and commotion.
    One of the Uí Fidgente warriors drew forth his sword with a cry of ‘Assassins!’ and urged his mount forward towards a cluster of buildings a short distance away across the square. A moment later, some of his men were following him while others hurried to their fallen Prince and stood over him with drawn swords as if expecting an assault on him.
    Eadulf saw Donndubhain, Colgú’s heir-apparent, also with drawn sword, go racing after the Ui Fidgente warriors.
    Fidelma was among the first to recover her wits. Her mind was racing. Two arrows had been shot at her brother and his guest and both, miraculously had missed. Obviously, the Uí Fidgente warrior had seen the path of their flight and pinpointed the buildings as hiding the bowman who wished to strike down the King of Cashel and the Prince of the Uí Fidgente. Well, there was no time to consider that now. Donndubháin had also gone in chase of the assassins.
    ‘See to Donennach,’ she cried to Eadulf, who was already pushing his way through the Prince’s reluctant bodyguard. She turned to where her brother was still sitting astride his horse, a little in shock, clutching at the arrow which was embedded in his arm.
    ‘Get down, brother,’ she urged quietly, ‘unless you want to continue to make yourself a target.’
    She reached forward and helped him dismount, which he did, trying not to groan aloud from the pain of his wound.
    ‘Is Donennach hurt badly?’ he asked between clenched teeth. He still held one hand clutching at his blood-soaked, pain-racked arm.
    ‘Eadulf is looking after him. Now sit down on that stone while I remove the arrow from your arm.’
    Almost reluctantly her brother sat down. By this time, two of Colgú’s men, including Capa, the captain of the bodyguard, had hurried forward but their drawn swords were superfluous. People
were crowding round their King with a mixture of advice and questions. Fidelma waved them back impatiently.
    ‘Is there a physician among you?’ she demanded, having examined the wound and realised that the arrow head went deep. She was afraid to pry it loose for fear of tearing the muscle and creating more damage.
    There was a muttering and shaking of heads.
    Reluctantly, she bent down and hesitantly touched the shaft. It would take too long to send someone to find and bring old Conchobar hither.
    ‘Hold on, Fidelma,’ cried Eadulf, pushing his way back through the crowd.
    Fidelma almost sighed with relief for she knew that Eadulf had trained in the art of medicine at the great medical school of Tuaim Brecain.
    ‘How is Donennach?’ Colgú greeted him, his face grey with pain as he struggled to remain in control.
    ‘Concentrate on yourself for the time being, brother,’ admonished Fidelma.
    Colgú’s features were set grimly.
    ‘A good host should see to his guest first.’
    ‘It is a bad wound,’ Eadulf admitted, bending forward to examine where the arrow head had embedded itself in Colgú’s arm. ‘Donennach’s wound, I mean, though your own is no light scratch. I have ordered a litter be constructed so that we can carry Prince Donennach up to the palace where we