Fallach nodded slowly.
“That is certainly what Díomsach intended to do.” He turned eagerly to Fidelma.
“Had it not been for your presence, Febrat would have been sent to his farm and it would not have been discovered that Cara was in truth missing for several days. Then Febrat would have simply said that he had told us so and we would have felt guilty for not looking for her. We would not have suspected him.”
Fidelma silenced him with an upraised hand.
“That is leaping to the conclusion that Febrat possesses enough cunning to plan such a complicated method of murder,” she observed.
“What other explanation is there?” demanded Donn Dige wearily.
“I shall endeavor to discover what has happened to your daughter, Donn Dige. I hope to have an answer to your question before nightfall.”
As they rode back in the direction of the farmstead of Febrat and Cara, Fallach was still shaking his head in bewilderment.
“I don’t understand, lady. You seem to know something that I don’t.”
Fidelma smiled briefly.
“Let us say that I now have a presentiment.”
“I still do not understand. Where are we making for, lady?”
“The farmstead of Faramund.”
He stared at her for a moment.
“You surely don’t believe that Faramund and the Uí Fidgente did raid Febrat’s farmstead?”
“I will tell you what I believe when we reach Faramund’s farm-stead.”
The farmstead lay at the foot of a hill. As they were crossing its gentle sloping shoulder, Fallach pointed to another jagged, stony hillock about a half-mile distant.
“That is Cnoc Cerb, the Hill of Silver, lady,” he said. “That’s where Febrat must be digging out those silver nuggets.”
Dogs were barking a warning below them as they rode down the track that led into the farm buildings.
A young man, tanned, with dark hair and handsome features had come out of the building and now stood leaning on a gate watching their approach. His pleasant features wore a smile of welcome as he waited for them to ride up.
“This is Faramund,” muttered Fallach at her side in explanation.
“Good day, Fallach. Good day, Sister.” The young man sang out. “What can I do for you this fine afternoon?”
Fidelma halted her horse and dismounted. Fallach followed her example.
“You can tell Cara to come out from where she is hiding,” Fidelma smiled back.
Faramund’s expression changed to one of momentary shock before he controlled himself. Fallach’s jaw had also dropped slightly at her opening words.
“Cara?” Faramund’s voice was puzzled. “Do you. . you mean Febrat’s wife? I don’t know what. . where. .”
The corners of Fidelma’s mouth turned down in disapproval.
“It will save us a lot of time if you are honest, Faramund. You have placed your chieftain, Conrí, in an embarrassing position, organizing mock raids on Febrat’s farmstead and conspiring with his wife to have him declared insane.”
“Conspiring. .?” The good humor in the young man seemed to evaporate into visible anger “Who are you to come here and make these accusations?”
“Fallach, explain to Faramund who I am.”
The warrior did so.
“So, Faramund, you have a choice,” went on Fidelma calmly. “You will cooperate with me now, or you will do so later under duress before your chieftain. If you choose the latter, your punishment when you are judged will be that much more severe.”
Faramund stared malevolently at her. He was not intimidated.
“You threaten to carry me off to be judged? There are only two of you, one warrior and one woman. Within my call there are half-a-dozen of my workers who. .”
Fidelma actually smiled broadly but her voice was sharp.
“Only six. . surely not? I counted eight or nine horses trailing the alder branches behind them to destroy any sign of their passage. Am I mistaken?”
Faramund’s expression tightened. Then he forced himself to relax.
“You are either very brave or very stupid, dálaigh. I have but to call my to my men. .”
“And then what? Díomsach and your own chieftain, Conrí, await our return. Do you think that you can threaten harm to a dálaigh and the sister of the King of Muman with impunity?”
Faramund was still truculent and threatening.
“The King of Muman is not here and I. .”
A female voice interrupted.
“Enough, Faramund! You cannot defy her by physical threats. She is too powerful.”
A young woman emerged from the door. She had dark hair and was good-looking in a voluptuous way. She knew that she was attractive and her whole body moved in a manner that seemed to exploit the animal-like quality. Fidelma noticed that she was holding a wooden mallet in her hand as if it were a defensive weapon.
Faramund turned as if to protest.
“Cara! So you are here?” Fallach greeted her in astonishment.
The young woman laughed. There was bitterness in her tone.
“That is obvious.” She turned to stare at Fidelma. “But I don’t know how you knew.”
Fidelma sighed softly.
“When did you think of this crazy scheme Cara? Was it before or after you married Febrat?”
The young woman looked defiant.
“I have nothing to say. You can prove nothing. Is it a crime to have a lover? My husband could not fulfill all my wants.”
Faramund nodded eagerly at her words.
“Cara’s right. We are simply lovers. What else are you accusing us of?”
Fidelma regarded them patiently.
“I was not aware that I had accused you of anything. But, since you have raised the matter, it’s quite simple. You want Febrat out of the way so that you could take over the silver mine at Cnoc Cerb.”
Faramund gave an angry hiss as he exhaled sharply but Cara’s shoulders suddenly drooped in resignation.
“You will have to prove it,” she said quietly but submissively.
“If Febrat could be pronounced without legal responsibility, as a mer, one who is confused or deranged, then you would be in control of his land at Cnoc Cerb.”
“I don’t understand what you are talking about,” Cara said suddenly.
“I know nothing of law.”
“But you do, don’t you, Faramund. What level of law did you achieve in your studies?”
Faramund flushed.
“Who says that I. .?”
“Do not waste my time!” she snapped.
“There has been no secret that you once studied law before you became a farmer,” Fallach pointed out. “I know it and so does Díomsach.”
The young man hesitated and then shrugged.
“I studied to the level of freisneidhed. ”
“So you reached your third year of study?” mused Fidelma. “And thus you have read the text Do Drúithaib agus Meraib agus Dásachtaib which deals with the use of land belonging to an insane person.” It was a statement not a question. “So it was you who suggested a way by which Cara might take over her husband’s land at Cnoc Cerb without killing poor Febrat? Have him declared a mer and, being guardian, she would gain control of the riches that he had discovered there.”
Cara was defiant.
“So what? No harm would have come to Febrat. The law says that I would have to look after Febrat for so long as he lives and if I did not I would have to pay five séds and suffer forfeiture of the land. He would not have suffered. .”
Faramund frowned at her.
“You are talking too much, Cara,” he warned sharply. “She cannot prove. .”
“I expect,” Fidelma wheeled ’round on him, “that was not your plan, was it? An accident, perhaps, some months in the future? Or perhaps something more subtle? An insane person attacking his wife? The insane person can be killed in self-defense or by someone else acting to defend the person being attacked
.” She turned back to Cara who was sobbing quietly. “What I would like to know is when did this plan first materialize in your mind-before or after you married Febrat?”
“Faramund and I were lovers before Febrat started paying me court. My mother was a princess of Áine and so was I but we had no wealth, no backing. You don’t know what that means. It was then we found out that there was silver on the hill which Febrat owned. It was Faramund who suggested the idea of obtaining ownership without even hurting Febrat by having him declared insane. I married him and waited for a while before we put the plan into operation.”
“And you really think that Faramund would remain your secret lover while Febrat lived? Once you had your hands on the silver mine, Faramund would have wanted to own it by seeking marriage with you and becoming your heir. How long before not only Febrat perished but you as well?”
Faramund’s eyes narrowed. His look was murderous.
“You don’t think that you will be able to get back to Díomsach and tell him this, do you?” he asked quietly.
Fidelma smiled softly.
“Are you proposing to start your killing spree already? First Fallach and myself and then. . who? Cara next, I suppose.”
Faramund drew out a vicious-looking long-bladed knife but before anyone could move he suddenly gave a grunt and went down senseless to the ground.
Cara was standing behind him looking at the wooden mallet in her hand.
“I presume that you used the same method to knock out your husband, Febrat? Faramund and his farmhands came last night and rode around the farmstead hooting and yelling to convince your husband the farm was under attack. They carried alder branches to disguise the passage of their horses.”
Cara gestured helplessly.
“I could not stand to kill anyone. I told Faramund that. He made his plan seem so plausible. No one would get hurt. Febrat would be taken care of and we would have the silver. But I could not bear to kill anyone.”
Fallach, who had been bending by the slumped form of Faramund, glanced up and grimaced.
“I am afraid that you will have to come to terms with that, Cara. You have hit him too hard.”
SCATTERED THORNS
The boy is innocent.”
The chief magistrate of Droim Sorn, Brehon Tuama, seemed adamant.
Sister Fidelma sat back in her chair and gazed thoughtfully at the tall man who was seated on the other side of the hearth. She had received an urgent request from Brehon Tuama to come to the small township of Droim Sorn in her capacity as dálaigh, advocate of the law courts. A sixteen-year-old lad named Braon had been accused of murder and theft. Brehon Tuama had suggested that Fidelma should undertake the boy’s defense.
In accordance with protocol, Fidelma had first made her presence in the township known to the chieftain, Odar, in whose house the boy was being held. Odar seemed to display a mixed reaction to her arrival but had offered her a few formal words of welcome before suggesting that she seek out Brehon Tuama to discuss the details of the case. She had decided, on this brief acquaintance, that Odar was not a man particularly concerned with details. She had noticed that the chieftain had an impressive array of hunting weapons on his walls and two sleek wolfhounds basking in front of his hearth. She deduced that Odar’s concerns were more of the hunt than pursuit of justice.
Brehon Tuama had invited her inside his house and offered her refreshment before making his opening remark about the accused’s guilt.
“Are you saying that the boy is not to be tried?” asked Fidelma. “If you have already dismissed the case against him, why was I summoned. .?”
Brehon Tuama quickly shook his head.
“I cannot dismiss the matter yet. Odar is adamant that the boy has to go through due process. In fact. .” The Brehon hesitated. “The victim’s husband is his cousin.”
Fidelma sighed softly. She disliked nepotism.
“Perhaps you should explain to me the basic facts as you know them.”
Brehon Tuama stretched uneasily in his chair.
“Findach the Smith is reputed to be one of the most able craftsmen in this township. His work is apparently widely admired and has graced abbeys, chieftains’ raths, and kings’ fortresses. He has been able to refuse such mundane tasks as shoeing horses, making harnesses, plows, and weapons, to pursue more artistic work.”
“It sounds as though you do not share others’ appreciation of his work?” interposed Fidelma, catching the inflection in his tone.
“I don’t,” agreed the Brehon. “But that is by the way. Findach was commissioned to make a silver cross for the high altar of the Abbey of Cluain. He had completed the commission only a few days ago.
“The cross was extremely valuable. Findach had polished it and taken it to his house ready for collection by one of the religious from the abbey. Yesterday morning, Findach had gone to his workshop, which is a hundred yards beyond his house, to commence work. The silver cross was left in his house. His wife, Muirenn, was there.
“It was that morning that Brother Caisín had been sent by the Abbot of Cluain to collect the cross. I have questioned Brother Caisín who says that he arrived at Findach’s house early in the morning. He noticed that the door was open and he went in. Muirenn lay on the floor with blood on her head. He tried to render assistance but found that she was dead, apparently killed by a sharp blow to the head.
“Brother Caisín then said that he heard a noise from a side room and found the boy, Braon, hiding there. There was blood on his clothes.
“It was then that Findach arrived back at his house and found Brother Caisín and Braon standing by the body of his wife. His cry of anguish was heard by a passerby who, ascertaining the situation, came in search of me as Brehon of Droim Sorn.”
Fidelma was thoughtful.
“At what point was it discovered the silver cross was missing?” she asked.
Brehon Tuama looked surprised.
“How did you know that it was the silver cross that had been stolen? The object of the theft was not specified when I sent for you.”
Fidelma made an impatient gesture with her hand.
“I did not think that you would spend so much time and detail telling me about Findach’s commission from Cluain if it had no relevance to this matter.”
Brehon Tuama looked crestfallen.
“What did the boy have to say?” Fidelma continued. “I presume the boy’s father was sent for before you questioned him?”
Brehon Tuama looked pained.
“Of course. I know the law. As he was under the ‘Age of Choice,’ his father is deemed responsible for him in law.”
“So the father was summoned and the boy was questioned?” pressed Fidelma impatiently.
“The boy said that he had been asked to go to Findach’s house by Muirenn, who often used to employ him to look after a small herd of cattle they kept in the upper pastures behind the house. Braon said he found the door open. He saw the body and went inside in order to help, but Muirenn was already dead.”
“And bending by the body accounted for blood on his clothes?”
“Precisely. He said that he was about to go for help when he heard someone approaching. Fearing the return of the killer, he hid in the room where Brother Caisín discovered him.”
“And those are all the facts, so far as you know them?”
“Exactly. It is all circumstantial evidence. I would be inclined to dismiss the charge for lack of evidence. However, Odar insists that the boy should be prosecuted. A chieftain’s orders are sometimes difficult to disregard,” he added apologetically.
“What about the cross?”
Brehon Tuama was baffled for a moment.
“I mean,” went on Fidelma, “where was it found? You have not mentioned that fact.”
The Brehon shifted his weight.
“It has not been found,” he confessed.
Fidelma made her surprise apparent.
“We made a thorough search for the cross and found no sign of i
t,” confirmed Brehon Tuama.
“Surely, that further weakens the case against the boy? When could he have had the time to hide the cross before being discovered by Brother Caisín?”
“Odar argues that he must have had an accomplice. He favors the boy’s father. He suggests the boy passed the cross to his accomplice just as Brother Caisín arrived.”
“A rather weak argument.” Fidelma was dismissive. “What I find more interesting is the motivation for your chieftain’s apparent determination to pursue the boy and his father. You tell me that it is because the dead woman’s husband is his cousin? That does not seem sufficient justification. I would agree with your first conclusion, Tuama. The whole affair is based on circumstantial evidence. By the way, how big was this silver cross?”
“I do not know. We would have to ask Findach. Findach said it was valuable enough. The silver alone being worth. .”
“I am more interested in its size, not value. Presumably, a high altar cross would be of large size and therefore of great weight?”
“Presumably,” agreed the Brehon.
“Also too heavy, surely, for the boy, Braon, to have hidden it by himself?”
Brehon Tuama did not reply.
“You say that Findach’s forge was a hundred yards from his house. Isn’t it unusual for a smith to have a workshop at such a distance from his house?”
Brehon Tuama shook his head.
“Not in this case. Findach was a careful man. Do you know how often smiths’ forges burn down because a spark from the furnace ignites them?”
“I have known of some cases,” admitted Fidelma. “So Findach and his wife Muirenn lived in the house. Did they have children?”
“No. There were just the two of them. .”
There was a sudden noise outside and the door burst open.
A wild-looking, broad-shouldered man stood on the threshold. He was dressed in the manner of a man who worked long hours in the fields. His eyes were stormy.
Brehon Tuama sprang up from his seat in annoyance.
Whispers of the Dead sf-15 Page 23