It was as they came to the cross roads that Fidelma saw two familiar figures on foot trudging along the road to Lios Mhór. One of them was young but being led by the hand by the elder of the two, an elderly man whose slightly stooping shoulders marked the passing of many years.
‘Gadra!’ called Fidelma, easing her horse forward.
The old man paused and looked round. They saw his fingers drum against the hand of Móen, doubtless explaining why he was halting.
‘Blessings on your journey, Fidelma,’ he smiled at Fidelma and then turned to Eadulf, ‘and on your journey, my Saxon brother.’
Fidelma swung off her horse.
‘We wondered why we had not seen you both these last few days. You should have bidden farewell to us. Where are you and Móen bound?’
‘To Lios Mhór,’ the old man replied.
‘To the monastery?’ asked Fidelma in surprise.
‘Yes. You needn’t look confounded,’ Gadra chuckled. ‘Would not an old pagan like myself be welcomed there?’
‘There is a welcome for everyone in the house of the Christ,’ replied Fidelma solemnly. ‘Though I must confess that your decision to go there does surprise me.’
‘Well.’ Gadra rubbed a forefinger against the side of his nose. ‘If the choice were mine, I would continue a while longer to live in my mountain dwelling. But the boy has need of me.’
‘Ah,’ Eadulf sighed. ‘It is a laudable thing you do for the boy. The confines of a cloister are better protection than the mountain fastness.’
Gadra shot him an amused glance.
‘More importantly, he needs the company of those who can communicate with him. The holy house at Lios Mhór contains members of your religious who have knowledge of the old writing. I can quickly teach them the way of using it. Once Móen is able to communicate with several people then I will have fulfilled my duty to Teafa and Tomnat. I will be able to move on to my destiny and leave him to his.’
Fidelma smiled.
‘That is a generous gesture.’
‘Generous?’ Gadra shook his head. ‘It is no more than is my sacred duty to the intellect which is Móen’s. The boy has demonstrated his sense of smell and guided in the right way I am sure that this quality can be employed.’
‘To what end?’ Eadulf asked with interest.
‘There are any amount of things to do for a person who can sense the aroma of things, from mixing perfumes to identifying herbs in the right quantity or to the making of medicines.’
‘So you and Móen will reside at Lios Mhór?’
‘For the time being.’
Fidelma grinned mischievously
‘And, who knows, even you might become a Christian under such holy influence?’
‘That I never will,’ Gadra chuckled sourly. ‘I have seen too much of your Christian love and charity to want to be part of it.’
‘I am sure that if you listen to the Word, preached by the brothers and sisters at Lios Mhór, you will come to accept that the Word is the Truth,’ declared Eadulf stoutly.
‘Your Word or Gormán’s Word? How can you be so certain that your Word is the Truth for everyone or, indeed, whether it is a Truth at all?’ asked Gadra, good naturedly.
‘One must have Faith or the Truth will elude you,’ Eadulf was stung to reply.
Gadra shook his head and raised his hand to the blue canopy of the sky.
‘Has it ever occurred to you, my Saxon brother, that when the moment comes for that door to open for us to pass into the Otherworld, either one of us might find that these things, about which we argue so vehemently, might be nothing more than some great misunderstanding?’
‘Never!’ snapped Eadulf, outraged.
The old hermit regarded him sadly.
‘Than your faith is blind and you have abrogated your own free will which is against the spiritual order of this world.’
Fidelma laid a hand on Eadulf as she sensed an angry retort.
‘I understand you, Gadra,’ she said, ‘for we are sprung of the same common ancestors. But customs change, just as the days roll by. We cannot bid them halt nor can we return to the point we started out from. But I recognise in you the same virtues that we all have.’
‘Bless you for that, sister. After all, do not all the tracks lead to the same great centre?’
There was a silence and then Móen demanded attention.
‘He says that he is sorry that he did not bid you farewell properly before we set out but he felt that he had imposed too much on your good office. He thinks you know how he feels. He owes you his life.’
‘He owes me nothing. I am a servant of the law.’
‘He says, he feels that the law is like a cage which traps those who do not have the power to secure a key.’
‘If anyone can disprove that statement, it is he,’ replied Eadulf indignantly.
‘It was not the law but the lawyer which provided the key,’ interpreted Gadra.
‘The blessed Timothy wrote in holy scripture that the law is good if it is used lawfully,’ replied Fidelma. ‘And a learned Greek, Heraclitis, once said that a people should fight for their law as if it were their city wall against an invading army.’
‘We will have to disagree. Law cannot dictate morality. But I thank you for what you have done. Farewell, Fidelma of Kildare. Farewell, my Saxon brother. Peace attend you on your road.’
They stood watching the old man leading Móen away through the forest path.
Fidelma felt suddenly very sad.
‘I wish I could have convinced him that our law is a sacred thing, the result of centuries of human wisdom and experience to protect us as well as to punish. If I did not believe it I would not be an advocate.’
Eadulf inclined his head in agreement.
‘Didn’t someone once say that it is not laws which are corrupt but those who interpret them?’
Fidelma swung up on her horse.
‘Many years ago Aeschylus wrote that wrong doing must not win by the technicality of the law. By that means we have to submit the law to our own judgment. I think this is what the blessed Matthew was really warning about when he wrote “judge not lest ye be judged”.’
They turned their horses north along the road to Cashel.
Fidelma’s
World
Muman (Munster)
7TH CENTURY A.D.
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
Sister Fidelma of Kildare, a dálaigh or advocate of the law courts of seventh-century Ireland
Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, a Saxon monk from the land of the South Folk
Cathal, abbot of Lios Mhór
Brother Donnán, a scriptor
Colgú of Cashel, king of Muman and Fidelma’s brother
Beccan, Chief Brehon, or judge, of Corco Loigde
Bressal, a hostel keeper
Morna, Bressal’s brother
Eber, chieftain of Araglin
Cranat, Eber’s wife
Crón, daughter of Eber and his tanist or heir-elect
Teafa, Eber’s sister
Móen, a blind, deaf, mute
Duban, commander of Eber’s bodyguard
Crítán, a young warrior
Menma, head stableman at the rath of Araglin
Dignait, the stewardess
Grella, a servant
Father Gormán of Cill Uird
Archú, a young farmer of Araglin
Scoth, his fiancee
Muadnat of the Black Marsh, his cousin
Agdae, Muadnat’s chief herdsman and nephew
Gadra, a hermit
Clídna, a brothel keeper
HISTORICAL NOTE
The Sister Fidelma mysteries are set during the mid-seventh century A.D.
Sister Fidelma is not simply a religieuse, formerly a member of the community of St Brigid of Kildare. She is also a qualified dáliagh, or advocate of the ancient law courts of Ireland. As this background will not be familiar to many readers, this foreword provides a few essential poin
ts of reference designed to make the stories more readily appreciated.
Ireland, in the seventh century A.D., consisted of five main provincial kingdoms: indeed, the modern Irish word for a province is still cúige, literally ‘a fifth.’ Four provincial kings—of Ulaidh (Ulster), of Connacht, of Muman (Munster), and of Laigin (Leinster)—gave their qualified allegiance to the Ard Rí or High King, who ruled from Tara, in the ‘royal’ fifth province of Midhe (Meath), which means the ‘middle province.’ Even among these provincial kingdoms, there was a decentralisation of power to petty-kingdoms and clan territories.
The law of primogeniture, the inheritance by the eldest son or daughter, was an alien concept in Ireland. Kingship, from the lowliest clan chieftain to the High King, was only partially hereditary and mainly electoral. Each ruler had to prove himself or herself worthy of office and was elected by the derbfhine of their family—a minimum of three generations gathered in conclave. If a ruler did not pursue the commonwealth of the people, they were impeached and removed from office. Therefore the monarchial system of ancient Ireland had more in common with a modern-day republic than with the feudal monarchies of medieval Europe.
Ireland, in the seventh century A.D., was governed by a system of sophisticated laws called the Laws of the Fénechas, or land-tillers, which became more popularly known as the Brehon Laws, derived from the word breitheamh—a judge. Tradition has it that these laws were first gathered in B.C. 714 by the order of the High King, Ollamh Fodhla. But it was in A.D. 438 that the High King, Laoghaire, appointed a commission of nine learned people to study, revise, and commit the laws to the new writing in Latin characters. One of those serving on the commission was Patrick, eventually to become the patron saint of Ireland. After three years, the commission produced a written text of the laws, the first known codification.
The first complete surviving texts of the ancient laws of Ireland are preserved in an eleventh-century manuscript book. It was not until the seventeenth century that the English colonial administration in Ireland finally suppressed the use of the Brehon Law system. To even possess a copy of the law books was punishable, often by death or transportation.
The law system was not static, and every three years at the Feis Temhrach (Festival of Tara) the lawyers and administrators gathered to consider and revise the laws in the light of changing society and its needs.
Under these laws, women occupied a unique place. The Irish laws gave more rights and protection to women than any other western law code at that time or since. Women could, and did, aspire to all offices and professions as the equal of men. They could be political leaders, command their people in battle as warriors, be physicians, local magistrates, poets, artisans, lawyers, and judges. We know the names of many female judges of Fidema’s period—Bríg Briugaid, Aine Ingine Iugaire, and Darí, among many others. Darí, for example, was not only a judge but the author of a noted law text written in the sixth century A.D.
Women were protected by the laws against sexual harassment, discrimination, and rape. They had the right of divorce on equal terms, and equitable separation laws allowed them to demand part of their husband’s property as a divorce settlement; they had the right of inheritance of personal property and the right of sickness benefits. Seen from today’s perspective, the Brehon Laws provided for an almost feminist paradise.
This background, and its strong contrast to Ireland’s neighbours, should be understood in order to appreciate Fidelma’s role in these stories.
Fidelma was born at Cashel, capital of the kingdom of Muman (Munster) in south-west Ireland, in A.D. 636. The youngest daughter of Faílbe Fland, the king, who died the year after her birth, Fidelma was raised under the guidance of a distant cousin, Abbot Laisran of Durrow. When she reached the ‘Age of Choice’ (fourteen years), she went to study at the bardic school of the Brehon Morann of Tara, as many other Irish girls did. Eight years of study resulted in Fidelma obtaining the degree of anruth, only one degree below the highest offered at either bardic or ecclesiastical universities in ancient Ireland. The highest degree was ollamh, still the modern Irish word for a professor. Fidelma’s studies were in law, both in the criminal code of the Senchus Mór and the civil code of the Leabhar Acaill. She therefore became a dá/aigh, or advocate of the courts.
Her role could be likened to a modern Scottish sheriff-substitute, whose job is to gather and assess the evidence, independent of the police, to see if there is a case to be answered. The modern French juge d’instruction holds a similar role.
In those days, most of the professional or intellectual classes were members of the new Christian religious houses, just as, in previous centuries, all professionals and intellectuals were Druids. Fidelma became a member of the religious community of Kildare, founded in the late fifth century A.D. by St Brigid.
While the seventh century A.D. was considered part of the European ‘Dark Ages,’ for Ireland it was considered a period of ‘Golden Enlightenment.’ Students from every corner of Europe flocked to Irish universities to receive their education, including the sons of the Anglo-Saxon kings. At the great ecclesiastical university of Durrow, at this time, it is recorded that no less than eighteen different nations were represented from among its students. At the same time, Irish male and female missionaries were setting out to reconvert a pagan Europe to Christianity, establishing churches, monasteries, and centres of learning throughout Europe as far east as Kiev in the Ukraine, as far north as the Faroes, and as far south as Taranto in southern Italy. Ireland was a by-word for literacy and learning.
However, the Celtic Church of Ireland was in constant dispute with Rome on matters of liturgy and ritual. Rome had begun to reform itself in the fourth century, changing its dating of Easter and aspects of its liturgy. The Celtic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church refused to follow Rome, but the Celtic Church was gradually absorbed by Rome between the ninth and eleventh centuries while the Eastern Orthodox Churches have remained independent of Rome. The Celtic Church of Ireland, during Fidelma’s time, was much concerned with this conflict.
One thing that marked both the Celtic and Roman Churches in the seventh century was that the concept of celibacy was not universal. While there were always ascetics in both Churches who sublimated physical love out of devotion to the deity, it was not until the Council of Nicea in A.D. 325 that clerical marriages were condemned, though still not banned. The concept of celibacy in the Roman Church arose from the customs practised by the pagan priestesses of Vesta and the priests of Diana. By the fifth century, Rome had forbidden clerics from the rank of abbot and bishop to sleep with their wives and, shortly after, even to marry at all. The general clergy was discouraged from marrying by Rome, but not forbidden to do so. Indeed, it was not until the reforming papacy of Leo IX (A.D. 1049-1054) that a serious attempt was made to force the western clergy to accept universal celibacy. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, priests below the rank of abbot and bishop have retained their right to marry to this day.
The condemnation of the ‘sin of the flesh’ remained alien to the Celtic Church for a long time after Rome’s attitude became a dogma. In Fidelma’s world, both sexes inhabited abbeys and monastic foundations known as conhospitae, or double houses, where men and women lived and raised their children in Christ’s service.
Fidema’s own house of St Brigid of Kildare was one such community of both sexes in Fidelma’s time. When Brigid established her community at Kildare (Cill-Dara, ‘the church of oaks’), she invited a bishop named Conlaed to join her. Her first biography, written in A.D. 650, was by a monk of Kildare named Cogistosus, who makes it clear that it was a mixed community.
It should also be pointed out, as another example of women’s coequal role, that women were priests of the Celtic Church at this time. Brigid herself was ordained a bishop by Patrick’s nephew, Mel, and her case was not unique. Rome actually wrote a protest in the sixth century against the Celtic practice of allowing women to celebrate the divine sacrifice of Mass.
To he
lp readers locate themselves in Fidelma’s Ireland of the seventh century, where its geo-political divisions will be mainly unfamiliar, I have provided a sketch map, and, to help them more readily identify personal names, I have also included a list of principal characters.
I have generally refused to use anachronistic place names, although I have bowed to a few modern usages, e.g. Tara rather than Teamhair; Cashel, rather than Caiseal Muman; and Armagh in place of Ard Macha. However, I have cleaved to the name Muman rather than the prolepsis form ‘Munster,’ formed when the Norse stadr (place) was added to the Irish name Muman in the ninth century A.D. and eventually anglicised. Similarly, I have maintained the original Laigin, rather than the anglicised form, Laigin-stadr, which is now Leinster.
Armed with this background knowledge, we may now enter Fidelma’s world. The events of this story occur in the month known to the Irish of the seventh century as Cét-Soman, which was later called Beltaine, the month of May. The year is A.D. 666.
It may enhance readers’ appreciation to know that a cumal used as a monetary unit was equivalent to the value of three milch cows. Used as a unit of land measurement, a cumal was the equivalent of 13.85 hectares.
Fidelma begins her new adventure in Lios Mhór, the great enclosure, which is now Lismore, Co Waterford, standing on the Abhain Mhór, the great river, called the Blackwater. Lios Mhór Abbey was founded the year after Fidelma’s birth, A.D. 637, by St Cathach, who is also known by his pet name, Mochuda, and whose feast day is on May 14. The abbey grew into one of the greatest centres of learning in Europe. The famous Anglo-Saxon King Alfred (A.D. 871-901) was said to have studied there. It should be remembered that the Irish missionaries took Christanity, learning, and literacy to the pagan Anglo-Saxons, and, as a result, many of the Anglo-Saxon kings, like Oswy of Northumbria and Alfred of Wessex, noblemen, and religious, were sent to the great universities of Ireland for their education.
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