‘I have been anxious ever since we came here,’ Princess Gelgéis complained. ‘I am perishing of cold. Let’s at least light a fire.’
Fidelma sighed, stifling her exasperation. ‘I have told you, if a fire is seen here, your enemies will soon come investigating and you will be seeing the inside of that lead mine again fairly soon.’
She saw Princess Gelgéis cast a nervous glance at Spealáin and an odd feeling prompted her to ask: ‘You have obeyed me in that, haven’t you? You lit no fires last night?’
‘There were no fires,’ Spealáin immediately assured her.
‘But …?’ There was certainly a ‘but’ hanging at the end of the statement.
‘We found an old oil lamp with some fuel still in it,’ Princess Gelgéis said defensively. ‘It provided a little warmth as well as light to keep the rodents at bay.’
‘No harm,’ added her steward. ‘No one saw it as no one has come here.’
As if on cue, Eadulf jerked his head up. ‘I think I hear horses. Maybe this is Enda?’
A moment later the sound of horses drawing up outside was clear and before they had time to get to their feet, Beccnat burst in at the head of half a dozen warriors. The fact that some of these warriors were armed with crossbows, ready strung, made their decision simple. Even if the warriors were not expert shots it was obvious there was no hope of even a token defence.
‘Stay still and you will not be harmed!’ Beccnat ordered in a harsh voice. The order was unnecessary.
‘You have no authority here, Beccnat. I am still your superior in law,’ Fidelma said quietly as she stood up.
‘Is that so?’ the lawyer sneered. She paused and peered about. ‘A light was seen this morning. A silly place to indulge your conspiracy. In the name of the lord of The Cuala, in spite of your claims, I now hold you prisoners for a charge of fomenting war against Laigin.’
‘If you claim that you be acting for the lord of The Cuala, you know I can challenge that.’ Fidelma made to take the wand of office out of her bag but Beccnat signalled one of her men to seize it before she could do so.
Beccnat smiled malevolently, ‘You secretly entered this kingdom to spy and create insurrection against the King of Laigin. You were trying to foment unrest and rebellion. In other words, you are charged with being a spy, sent to stir up disaffection in this kingdom on behalf of the King of Muman.’
‘You are not correct,’ Fidelma said firmly.
‘Am I not?’
‘Also, I say once more that you are not acting on the orders of the lord of The Cuala.’
A look of uncertainty entered the girl’s eyes at the firmness in Fidelma’s tone.
‘We will find out who speaks the truth when you answer before him,’ she said.
‘Under whose orders do you act?’ Fidelma demanded. ‘Not those of Dicuil Dóna.’
Beccnat thrust out her chin defiantly. ‘I have told you, I do.’ She turned to one of her warriors. ‘Take charge of the spies. Now, there are only two ways of doing what I say. There is the hard way or the easy way.’
‘I must correct you, Beccnat,’ replied Fidelma gravely. ‘There is another way, which is both the legal and moral way.’
Beccnat seemed uncertain at Fidelma’s continued self-assurance, but then a smile spread across her face.
‘I am afraid I can only interpret that as my way.’
Fidelma was about to respond when the sound of a distant war horn reached their ears. Fidelma heaved a sigh of relief, at which Beccnat frowned, confused. The accompanying warriors looked at one another in hesitation. Unlike Beccnat, they recognised the sound the horn produced.
‘I would advise you to put aside your weapons.’ Fidelma took gentle command. ‘In a moment you will be surrounded by a company of warriors of Dicuil Dóna – lord of The Cuala – and have to answer for what you are doing.’ She glanced back at Beccnat and shook her head. ‘Of course, if you are acting under his orders – under the orders of the lord of The Cuala – then, of course, you will have nothing to worry about. If you are not then you will be deemed the conspirators.’
Some moments passed in utter silence; so silent that the approach of horses could clearly be heard. They halted outside and the next sound was Enda’s voice calling.
‘Lady, are you safe? We are here with Corbmac’s men. We see some horses outside here. Is all well? You have not been harmed?’
Fidelma barely glanced at Beccnat. ‘We are not harmed yet, Enda,’ she called back. ‘But we could do with help in persuading some misguided warriors to lay down their weapons.’
A second or so later the voice of the commander of the lord of The Cuala’s warrior’s was heard in support of Enda.
‘This is Corbmac! If there are any warriors true to the lord of The Cuala in there, then they must put their weapons aside and come out to surrender. You have been misled. Give up your weapons now and you will be treated fairly.’
Without waiting for a further order from Beccnat, the warriors quickly took the bolts from their crossbows and dropped them to the ground. One of them went to the door, calling that they were surrendering.
Fidelma looked sorrowfully towards Beccnat. ‘I suggest that it is now your turn to surrender yourself.’
‘We acted under the orders of the prince Scáth, steward to the lord of The Cuala.’
‘You will find the lord of The Cuala at the abbey and may give him your account.’
At that moment Enda entered. He had a broad grin on his face as he greeted Fidelma and then turned to Eadulf.
‘Good to see you unharmed, friend Eadulf.’ Then he glanced to where the Princess Gelgéis was standing with Spealáin, her steward, and inclined his head in courteous bow.
‘As soon as you feel able we should ride for the abbey,’ he announced. ‘I am told that guest quarters will be at your disposal. Dicuil Dóna himself should be there now.’ He turned to Fidelma. ‘The lord of The Cuala has asked, on our behalf, that the abbey establish an airecht first thing tomorrow. Is that in accordance with your wishes, lady?’
‘You have done well, Enda.’
The grim figure of Corbmac had now entered to ensure that those who should be taken as prisoners were in the charge of his men. He raised his hand in salute to them all.
‘Lady Fidelma! It is good to see you and your companions alive and well. Dicuil Dóna was especially anxious about you all. He should be at the abbey already. My lord suggests that it would be the best place to set up the court to hear an explanation of what has been happening in his territory. Do you have any objections?’
‘None at all. In fact, it is by far the best place. Now that your men are in control, I and my companions will ride directly for the abbey.’ She smiled round at her companions. ‘I think Princess Gelgéis and her steward stand in need of hot baths immediately, to be followed by hot food and warming drinks before a good night’s sleep. In fact, after the stress of recent times, I would say that this would not be far removed from my own desire.’
It was but a short time before Fidelma and her companions rode once more across the familiar wooden bridge over the stream and among the abbey buildings to be greeted by the solemn face of Brother Dorchú, the gatekeeper, ringing the inevitable bell to announce their arrival. The only noticeable difference in the men who crowded the abbey grounds was that, instead of the woollen robes of the brethren, the majority of men wore colourful accoutrements of the warriors of the lord of The Cuala.
The arrivals had barely entered the abbey before Dicuil Dóna himself emerged to greet them as they dismounted. He came forward with both hands outstretched. A smile of appreciation beamed on his features.
‘Your message caused me to act immediately, Fidelma. You said members of my family were involved in this conspiracy to foster a war between our peoples and, further, in the theft of the gold and silver from the mines. They dare to rob me to foster war? Are you ready to reveal the names to me?’
Fidelma returned his greeting solemnly. ‘I have everythi
ng I need to present a case to an airecht. However, I shall require the presence of your trusted warriors to ensure the attendance of those involved. They might be reluctant to attend at my request only.’
‘Hand a list to Corbmac and the attendance of those you want is guaranteed,’ Dicuil Dóna assured her. ‘I am told you expect to hold the court tomorrow?’
‘I shall start my presentation tomorrow at noon,’ Fidelma replied. ‘This will allow witnesses time to gather and also give the Princess Gelgéis a chance to recover from her long ordeal.’
Dicuil Dóna nodded after a moment’s thought. ‘I would agree except that I wonder if a further night might give time for those involved in this affair to put distance between this place and anywhere they want to flee to rather than face the consequence of their actions?’
‘I do not believe they will do so because they might think that they have created such a web of intrigue that no one could follow the web to its centre … to where the real conspirator thinks he is safely hidden.’
‘I cannot emphasise that is a threat to the peace of our southern kingdoms and must be handled carefully. The complications are serious. I know it.’
‘It is a conspiracy that not only involves members of your family but others of influence as well,’ Fidelma pointed out.
Dicuil Dóna bowed his head for a moment. ‘Theft is one thing, but you are accusing my family of a conspiracy that might even bring down the wrath of the High King.’
‘Conspiracy to depose a king and start a war is a dangerous business,’ Fidelma replied firmly. ‘So we must act firmly and when there can be no mistakes.’
‘Your facts will be presented tomorrow? That could be dangerous.’
‘Most dangerous if the facts are as I believe them to be.’
‘You are brave then, lady.’
‘It is my job to be brave so that I can demonstrate the truth.’
‘How do you know that you can trust me if you suspect that my family are involved in such plots?’ demanded the lord of The Cuala. ‘If it is a matter of conspiracy to depose a king, who else in my family would be in a position of influence to accomplish it except myself … or …?’
‘Or?’ prompted Fidelma.
‘My nephew, King Fianamail.’
Fidelma smiled slightly. ‘I do not think that you want your family destroyed by taking part in this conspiracy. I shall trust you to accept my word that I do not accuse you. Nor do I believe that your nephew, King Fianamail, is involved. That being so, you must help me to reveal the truth and the real culprits.’
For a while the lord of The Cuala stood frowning at her. Then he gave a deep sigh.
‘The airecht shall be established exactly as you say. My son and my daughter shall be there. The members of my household shall be there. All who you ask for shall be there, and they shall answer you truthfully. I shall give you my utmost support. But let me be honest, lady, if you do not prove your case, it will not go well with you. I shall be in contact with the Chief Brehon and the High King, and demand extreme action against false allegations.’
‘You will find that I do not make false allegations,’ Fidelma replied easily. ‘I think it best until you wait for things to unravel tomorrow before you leap to any conclusions. Therefore, let us get the airecht set up and in its position.’
The lord of The Cuala, still frowning, agreed.
‘You are an expert. How shall the court be set up?’
‘We will keep to the usual form but I should point out that it is not a usual court of law,’ replied Fidelma. ‘You, as lord of The Cuala, will preside alongside Abbot Daircell, as he is the head of this abbey where the hearing is to take place.’
‘But does it not need another Brehon or at least an independent legal authority? That should have been Brehon Rónchú and I am told he is still missing.’
‘Sadly, I shall show that he has been murdered in the same conspiracy. His deputy, Beccnat, is compromised, so she cannot be an unbiased judge.’
‘She is involved?’ The lord of Cuala seemed surprised. ‘Then you are the only senior lawyer here. How can the airecht sit with only one lawyer as a judge?’
‘I am the principal investigating advocate, so cannot be the independent legal authority. Beccnat is compromised in this matter,’ Fidelma confirmed thoughtfully.
‘Then I am at a loss to see how we can proceed if this presentation is to have legal authority. We would have to send to the Uí Muiredag, or the Uí Faelge or the Uí Faeláin. Itt would take days for their Brehons to reach here and be sufficiently briefed on matters.’
Fidelma shook her head. Then she smiled. ‘There is an alternative. Brother Aithrigid is not as qualified as a Brehon but then neither is Beccnat. Brother Aithrigid, before entering the religious, was an Áire Árd, and thus skilled in preparing judgments – there is nothing under law that says that he cannot participate in one. In any case, if I prove my points, it would be a matter of referring the case for judgment to the Chief Brehon of the King of Laigin or to the Chief Brehon of the Five Kingdoms.’
The lord of The Cuala examined her curiously. ‘If you prove your case …’ he echoed dryly.
‘It is an advocate’s task to demonstrate it to others so that they are in agreement, but often agreement cannot be found. That is why we have judges to listen to the arguments and weigh the evidence.’
‘Then you recommend the steward of this abbey to sit with me and the abbot in this matter?’
‘I do, unless you have a qualified alternative?’
‘I do not. My only concern is to find out who has been stealing the precious metals from my mines and for what purpose.’
‘That is what I hope to elucidate,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘And much more.’
‘Very well, Fidelma. It shall be so. The court shall sit tomorrow. Do you have a list of all whom you wish to be present?’
‘I have. Your commander, Corbmac, must pick a dozen trustworthy men of his band to ensure their presence. Here is the list of names.’
The lord of Cuala took the list and began to scan it.
‘There are names here that shock me,’ he said almost immediately.
‘The search for truth is often shocking. You will hear everything at the court. I merely give the names of people I would like to be available to give testimony. But it does not mean all these people are guilty of anything. They may just be witnesses.’
The lord of The Cuala pressed his lips tightly before speaking.
‘Well, this matter is in yours hands, Fidelma. The structure of the court shall be as you deem it. But I fear of what is to transpire tomorrow.’
TWENTY-FOUR
The abbey’s refectory had been converted into a courtroom, an airecht, by the simple means of using the raised platform where the senior brethren usually sat as the place from which the three chosen judges would preside. In view of the gravity of the accusations to be considered, it was not constituted as a full court of law but as only a place for a preliminary hearing. If a case was found then those accused would be taken for such a hearing either to the court of the Chief Brehon of the High King or the Chief Brehon of the King of Laigin.
Abbot Daircell was accorded his right to preside as principal of the abbey, with Dicuil Dóna, lord of The Cuala, seated on his right and, on his left, was Brother Aithrigid, the steward of the abbey. He looked uncomfortable as he assumed his legal role as Áire Árd, although he was perfectly qualified for it. Scowling Beccnat was asked to attend but only as Brehon Rónchú’s assistant and to argue defensively if so needed. She took her place to the left, below the judges. To the right sat Fidelma and Eadulf, with Enda taking a stand behind them. Immediately next to them was Princess Gelgéis and Spealáin, her steward. Several of Corbmac’s guards had taken positons around the refectory.
The seats placed in the chapel were filled with most people who had been summoned to the hearing as witnesses. Fidelma quickly glanced around to make sure those she wanted to attend were there. She saw not everyone was the
re and she had barely registered this fact when Corbmac came over.
‘I have sent my men out to find those who are not here yet, lady,’ he explained quickly.
‘We will probably have to start without them,’ she said to Eadulf, as Corbmac went off to check with some of his men.
She had already spotted Aróc, Scáth and Síabair at the far end by the main doors. They had taken up positions on a broad raised platform step, which led to the door of the abbey’s bell tower. There was just enough room for the three of them to stare out above the heads of those gathered. Close by sat others such as Muirgel, the widow of the murdered boatman, with her friends, interested to hear what was going to be said. Even Serc, the prostitute, was among them. Garrchú, Fidelma knew, had ridden here with Dicuil Dóna on the previous day.
The main seating was filled by many members of the abbey. Brother Lachtna was sitting with a perpetual look of cynicism on his features next to Brother Dorchú, Brother Gobbán, Brother Eochaí and even the young boy, Brother Cuilínn. There was a loud humming as the conversation of the people merged and rose into one strange cacophony.
Abbot Daircell was exchanging a word with the lord of The Cuala and, upon receiving a nod from him, turned to Fidelma.
‘Are you ready to begin?’
Fidelma rose, making her voice loud and strong. ‘I intend making a start but we seem to be lacking two of the witnesses on the list, Teimel and Iuchra.’
‘My men are searching for them as we speak,’ called Corbmac.
‘But you are able to start the proceedings, lady?’ the abbot pressed.
‘I am.’
The voices of the gathering died away and then the abbot made a gesture with his hand, indicating that she should proceed.
‘Firstly, let it be clearly known that my presence here is as a dálaigh, qualified to the level of Anruth, a member of the airli, the council of Brehons …’
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ interrupted the abbot with an impatient wave of his hand. ‘Your qualifications are well known here, Fidelma of Cashel.’
‘The point that I am making,’ went on Fidelma patiently, ‘is that I invoke my qualification as a counsel representing the airli of the judges serving the law of the Five Kingdoms. I am not here representing the interests of any faction other than truth and justice.’
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