‘The tide is on the turn.’ Eadulf raised his head and felt the change of wind on his cheek. ‘The ship’s captain will want to get away. I must go on board now. It seems, then, that we are always parting. I remember the last time we parted at Cashel. You determined then that your duty lay in going on a pilgrimage to the Tomb of St James in Iberia.’
‘But I came back,’ Fidelma pointed out reproachfully.
‘True,’ he agreed with a quick smile. ‘Thank God that you did or I should not be here now. Yet you told me then that I had a duty towards Theodore of Canterbury. I recall your very words: “There is always a time to depart from a place even if one is unsure where one is going”.’
She bowed her head contritely. ‘I recall those words. Perhaps I was wrong.’
‘And do you recall me replying that I felt at home in Cashel and could find a means to stay in spite of the demands of Canterbury?’
She remembered his words very clearly and she also remembered how she had answered him.
‘Heraclitus said that you cannot step twice into the same river for other waters are continually flowing into it. That is what I answered. I remember.’
‘I cannot return to Cashel now, for honour’s sake. I have promises to keep at Canterbury.’
He made to turn away and then swung back, seizing her hands again. His eyes were moist. He was on the verge of telling her that he would return to Cashel but he knew that he had to be strong if they had any future together.
‘I do not want to be parted from you again so soon, Fidelma. One of your ancient triads asks – what are the three diseases that you may suffer without shame?’
She reddened a little and replied softly, ‘An itch, a thirst and love.’
‘Will you come with me?’ Eadulf asked with rough enthusiasm. ‘Come with me to Canterbury? There would be no shame in that.’
‘Would that be a wise decision for me to make?’ Fidelma asked with a ghost of a smile trembling on her lips. Her emotions wanted her to say yes, but logic held her back.
‘I am not sure wisdom enters into such matters,’ Eadulf said. ‘All I know is that no wind will serve the sails on your ship of life unless you steer for a particular port.’
Fidelma glanced behind her.
Along the quay Dego, Enda and Aidan were standing, waiting patiently while Fidelma and Eadulf said their farewells. They were holding the horses ready to commence the journey back to Cashel. She thought for a moment. No decision would come immediately. Perhaps being unable to make a decision, was a decision in itself? She did not know how to respond. Her thoughts were too confused. Eadulf seemed attuned to her doubts.
‘If you need to stay, stay; I will understand,’ he told her, his voice soft in resignation.
Fidelma met his warm brown eyes with her fiery green ones for several long seconds before she squeezed his hand, smiled quickly, let it fall, turned and walked silently away.
Eadulf made no attempt to say anything else. He watched her walking with a firm step back towards her mare. Aidan and Enda mounted their horses in readiness and Dego moved forward, leading her mount. Eadulf waited, his mind in conflict, torn between uncertainty and anticipation. He watched as she spoke a few words to Dego. Then she took her saddle bag from her horse. When she returned to Eadulf her face was flushed but she was smiling confidently.
‘Brehon Morann said that if reason cannot be satisfied, then follow the impulse. Let’s go aboard the ship before the captain sails without us.’
Principal Characters
Sister Fidelma, of Cashel, 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
Dego, a warrior of Cashel
Enda, a warrior of Cashel
Aidan, a warrior of Cashel
Morca, a Laigin innkeeper
Abbess Fainder, abbess of Fearna
Abbot Noé, anam chara (‘soul friend’) of King Fianamail
Brother Cett, a monk of Fearna
Brother Ibar, a monk of Fearna
Bishop Forbassach, Brehon of Laigin
Mel, captain of the guard at Fearna
Fianamail, King of Laigin
Lassar, owner of the Inn of the Yellow Mountain, sister of Mel
Sister Étromma, rechtaire or stewardess of the abbey of Fearna
Gormgilla, a victim
Fial, her friend
Brother Miach, physician of the abbey of Fearna
Gabrán, captain of a river boat and trader
Coba, a bó-aire or magistrate, chieftain of Cam Eolaing
Deog, widow of Daig who was captain of the watch at Fearna
Dau, a warrior at Cam Eolaing
Dalbach, a blind recluse
Muirecht, a young girl
Conna, a young girl
Brother Martan of the Church of Brigid
Barrán, Chief Brehon of the Five Kingdoms
HISTORICAL NOTE
The Sister Fidelma mysteries are set mainly in Ireland during the mid-seventh century AD.
Sister Fidelma is not simply a religieuse, a former member of the community of St Brigid of Kildare. She is also a qualified dálaigh, or advocate of the ancient law courts of Ireland. As this background will not be familiar to many readers, my Historical Note is designed to provide a few essential points of reference to make the stories more readily appreciated.
The Ireland of Fidelma’s day 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 the provincial kingdoms, there was a decentralisation of power to petty-kingdoms and clan territories.
In this story one will find references to the conflict between Muman and Laigin over the borderland sub-kingdom of Osraige (Ossory), over which both claimed lordship. The details of that conflict are to be found in the Fidelma mystery Suffer Little Children.
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 derbhfine of their family – a minimum of three generations from a common ancestor gathered in conclave. If a ruler did not pursue the commonwealth of the people, they were impeached and removed from office. Therefore the monarchical system of ancient Ireland had more in common with a modern-day republic than with the feudal monarchies which had developed in medieval Europe.
Ireland, in the seventh century AD, was governed by a system of sophisticated laws called the Laws of the Fénechus, or land-tillers, which became more popularly known as the Brehon Laws, deriving from the word breitheamh — a judge. Tradition has it that these laws were first gathered in 714BC by the order of the High King, Ollamh Fódhla. Over a thousand years later, in AD438, 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 patron saint of Ireland. After three years, the commission produced a written text of the laws which is the first known codification.
The first complete surviving texts of the ancient laws of Ireland are preserved in an eleventh-century manuscript book in the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin. 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 Féis 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 until recent times. Women could, and did, aspire to all offices and professions as the co-equal with 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 Fidelma’s period – Brig Briugaid, Áine Ingine Iugaire and Darí among others. Darí, for example, was not only a judge but the author of a noted law text written in the sixth century AD.
Women were protected by law against sexual harassment, against discrimination, against rape. They had the right of divorce on equal terms from their husbands, with equitable separation laws, and could 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 when ill or hospitalised. (Ancient Ireland had Europe’s oldest recorded system of hospitals.) Seen from today’s perspective, the Brehon Laws helped to maintain an almost ideal environment for women.
This background, and its strong contrast with 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 AD636. She was the youngest daughter of Fáilbe 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), considered the time of maturity for women, she went to study at the bardic school of the Brehon Morann of Tara, as did many other young Irish girls. 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, which is 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. Thereby, she became a dálaigh or advocate of the courts.
Her main role could be compared 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. However, sometimes Fidelma is faced with the task of prosecuting in the courts or, as in this story, defending, even rendering judgments in minor cases when a Brehon was not available.
In those days, most of the professional or intellectual classes were members of the new Christian religious houses, just as, in previous centuries, all members of the professions and intellectuals had been Druids. Fidelma became a member of the religious community of Kildare founded in the late fifth century AD by St Brigid. But by the time the action in this story takes place, Fidelma has left Kildare in disillusionment. The reason why may be found in the title story of the Fidelma short story collection Hemlock at Vespers.
While the seventh century AD was considered part of the European ‘Dark Ages’, for Ireland it was a period of ‘Golden Enlightenment’. Students from every corner of Europe flocked to Irish universities to receive their education, including the sons of many of the Anglo-Saxon kings. At the great ecclesiastical university of Durrow, at this time, it is recorded that no fewer than eighteen different nations were represented among the 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 byword 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 Church has continued to remain independent of Rome. The Celtic Church of Ireland, during Fidelma’s time, was much concerned with this conflict so that it is impossible to write of Church matters without referring to the philosophical warfare between them.
One thing that was shared by both the Celtic Church and Rome in the seventh century was that the concept of celibacy was not universal. While there were always ascetics in the Churches who sublimated physical love in a dedication to the deity, it was not until the Council of Nicea in AD325 that clerical marriages were condemned but not banned in the Western Church. The concept of celibacy arose in Rome mainly from the customs practised by the pagan priestesses of Vesta and the priests of Diana.
By the fifth century, Rome had forbidden its clerics from the rank of abbot and bishop to sleep with their wives and, shortly after, even to marry at all. The general clergy were discouraged from marrying by Rome but not forbidden to do so. Indeed, it was not until the reforming papacy of Leo IX (AD1049—1054) that a serious attempt was made to force the Western clergy to accept universal celibacy. The Celtic Church took centuries to give up its anti-celibacy attitudes and fall into line with Rome, while in the Eastern Orthodox Church, priests below the rank of abbot and bishop have retained their right to marry until this day.
An awareness of these facts concerning the liberal attitudes towards sexual relationships in the Celtic Church is essential towards understanding the background to the Fidelma stories.
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, which were known as conhospitae, or double houses, where men and women lived raising their children in Christ’s service.
Fidelma’s own house of St Brigid of Kildare was one such community of both sexes during her time. When Brigid established her community of Kildare (Cill-Dara = the church of the oaks), she invited a bishop named Conláed to join her. Her first biography, completed fifty years after her death in AD650 during Fidelma’s lifetime, was written by a monk of Kildare named Cogitosus, who makes it clear that it continued to be a mixed community in his day.
It should also be pointed out that, demonstrating their co-equal role with men, women were priests of the Celtic Church in this period. 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, at the Celtic practice of allowing women to celebrate the divine sacrifice of Mass.
Unlike the Roman Church, the Irish Church did not have a system of ‘confessors’ where ‘sins’ had to be confessed to clerics who then had the authority to absolve those sins in Christ’s name. Instead, people chose a ‘soul friend’ (anam chara), out of clerics or laity, with whom they discussed matters of emotional and spiritual well-being.
To help readers locate themselves in Fidelma’s part of Ireland in 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, a list of principal characters is also given.
I have generally refused to use anachronistic place names for obvious reasons although I have bowed to a few modern usages e.g. Tara, rather than Teamhair; and Cashel, rather than Caiseal Muman; and Armagh in place of Ard Macha. However, I have cleaved to the name of Muman rather than the prolepsis form ‘Munster’ formed when the Norse stadr (place) was added to the Irish name Muman in the ninth century AD and eventually anglicised. Similarly, I have maintained the original name Laigin, rather than the anglicised form of Leinster based on the Norse form Laighin-stadr. I have, for easier reading, shortened Fearna Mhór (the great place of the alder trees), the principal city of the Laigin kings at this time, to Fearna as it is now anglicised as Ferns, Co. Wexford.
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br /> This story also deals with the conflict between the native Brehon Law and the introduction into Ireland at this time of an alternative law system by those clergy who were pro-Roman reformers; a system called the Penitentials. These Penitentials were initially the rules designed for the religious communities, mainly inspired by Graeco-Roman Christian cultural concepts, by which they were expected to conduct their lives. However, they often were extended over those communities living within the shadow of the great abbeys, depending on the personalities of the abbots and abbesses.
The Penitentials often developed a harsh system of rules and punishments, enforcing physical punishment on transgressors, a system of vengeance rather than the system of compensation and rehabilitation which formed the basis of Brehon Law. In many areas of Ireland, as the Roman form of Christianity took its hold among the religious and urban centres, the Penitentials began to displace the Brehon precepts. Executions, mutilations and floggings as forms of punishment were to be found in late medieval Ireland as they were in the rest of Europe. Yet this was not so in Fidelma’s time and such ideas outraged the advocates of the Brehon system as readers may now discover.
THE SISTER FIDELMA MYSTERIES BY PETER TREMAYNE
Absolution by Murder
Shroud for the Archbishop
Suffer Little Children
The Subtle Serpent
The Spider’s Web
Hemlock at Vespers
Valley of the Shadow
The Monk Who Vanished
Act of Mercy
Our Lady of Darkness
Smoke in the Wind1
Come explore the world of Sister Fidelma.
The International Sister Fidelma Society is an organization devoted to the readers of Peter Tremayne’s Sister Fidelma Mysteries. Members receive three copies per year of its official publication, The Brehon. The magazine is primarily a forum for the fans of the series, containing articles, competitions, readers’ letters, and hotographs—including special contents such as the first-ever publication of a Fidelma short story, “The Blemish,” (September 2002), among others.
Our Lady of Darkness Page 32