‘Except that you may have overlooked one thing,’ Fidelma said quietly. ‘In my preamble, I explained carefully what the basis of our law was. Recompense and rehabilitation. The matter of blood feud can only be enacted against an incorrigible, one who refuses to come to law and be judged. Under special circumstances, a king’s Brehon could approve of the díglaid. Glassán had been judged and paid the requirements of the law.’
There was a murmuring throughout the hall and then Fidelma approached Brehon Aillín and whispered to him. He nodded slowly and she returned to her place. The murmuring dissolved to silence as the Brehon spoke.
‘There may well be exonerating circumstances, Seachlann. But a judgement cannot be pronounced as a legal finding until you have argued it before the Chief Brehon of Laighin and your King. Glassán was judged before them and paid the fines imposed on him. Technically, according to the law, he was then a free man and entitled to the protection of his freedom. My advice to my King,’ he glanced at Colgú, ‘would be to have you and Saor escorted to the King of Laighin and for him and his Chief Brehon to consider your case accordingly.’
Seachlann acknowledged the authority of the Brehon with a slight bow. ‘I am most willing to accept that course of action. Our main task here is done and I am prepared to answer for all my actions.’ He glanced at Saor who nodded slightly. ‘And so is my companion in this matter.’
Colgú leant forward to Brehon Aillín and held a whispered conversation before the judge turned to Seachlann and Saor.
‘The recommendation has been accepted. After these proceedings are over, and a record made of these events, two of the King’s warriors will accompany you and your companion to Ferna, where the King of Laighin may sit in judgement on this matter. As victims and perpetrators are men of Laighin, it is no longer in our jurisdiction and the matter is turned over to Laighin for judgement.’
Seachlann glanced to Saor and smiled encouragement before reseating himself.
Brehon Aillín sat back and looked at Fidelma. ‘Are you prepared to proceed on the other matters?’
Fidelma allowed a moment of silence. Eadulf gave her an encouraging smile.
‘I am. I am now ready to proceed in the matter of the murder of Brother Donnchad.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‘Brother Donnchad was the victim of extreme virtue, or should I say intolerance disguised as virtue,’ began Fidelma. ‘He was a great scholar. Had he lived, he might have been one of the greatest scholars of the Five Kingdoms.’
‘His name will be remembered in such a light,’ came the stern voice of Lady Eithne. ‘That is why I sanctioned the rebuilding of this abbey. By these stone buildings, he will be remembered as a great teacher of the Faith.’
Fidelma allowed the murmuring to die away. Then, without looking at Lady Eithne, she said loudly, ‘Is that what he would have wanted to be remembered as?’
There was a stir of surprise among the brethren.
‘Truth is great and will prevail, so let us consider what the truth is. For some time I did not know why Brother Donnchad was killed. Without a motive, I could not present a case against the killer. Finally, I discovered that motive.’
Everyone was hanging on her words now, leaning forward in their seats in silent expectation.
‘The reason why he was killed was because he had lost his Faith.’
There was immediate uproar. Lady Eithne shouted in outrage but her words were lost in the hubbub. Abbot Iarnla was white with shock and Brother Lugna’s features were drawn into a mask of barely controlled fury.
‘It is well known that Brother Donnchad was a great scholar of the Faith,’ Brehon Aillín admonished. ‘I cannot allow such a statement to be admitted in this court.’
Even Abbot Ségdae looked astounded at her words.
‘You can if it can be proved,’ protested Fidelma.
‘I must accept the proof, as we know it. The knowledge and respect accorded to Brother Donnchad and his known writings on the Faith constitute proof of his views and are a precedent, a fásach, which cannot be challenged.’
Eadulf stood up and coughed nervously. ‘I am not qualified to speak here, Brehon Aillín, but could I bring to your attention, through the dálaigh, that the Uraicecht Becc states that among the senfásach there is this admonition: that a Brehon cannot expect to find all truth contained in a fásach. It empowers the Brehon to consider any argument designed to overturn the precedent.’
Fidelma turned to Eadulf in surprise. He passed her the text and she read it rapidly. Then she approached Brehon Aillín and handed it to him. The Brehon read it, pursed his lips and shook his head.
‘I cannot accept the statement you have made without proof. But I am willing to follow this admonition from the Uraicecht Becc and hear your evidence, Fidelma. If you cannot prove your claim then I must impose a fine on you. Will you attempt to prove it?’
‘It shall be proved,’ Fidelma replied, ‘and in the words of Brother Donnchad himself.’
‘How can that be?’ called out Brother Lugna, with a sneer. ‘Are you going to practise witchcraft and conjure him from his grave?’
There were gasps of horror at his words and several of the brethren performed the sign of the Cross.
‘That is unworthy of you, Brother Lugna,’ snapped Brehon Aillín. ‘There should be no need to remind you of the reputation of the learned advocate in this kingdom and even beyond.’
‘I will explain,’ Fidelma said. ‘The words of Brother Donnchad were written down before his death and hidden because he feared, correctly, that someone might kill him and destroy them. They certainly did their best to do so. They removed all traces of his writings and documents from his room, just in case his words were hidden among them. Thankfully, they were not and they have survived.’
‘Do you mean to present them before us?’ asked Brehon Aillín.
‘I will do so although I am loath to as Brother Donnchad presents some disturbing arguments as to why he lost his Faith.’
There was some confusion in the refectorium.
‘And have you proof that they were written by him?’ pressed the judge.
‘I can present someone who can testify to the handwriting of Brother Donnchad for I have learnt that each scribe forms letters in his own way and has a particular style of writing. Further, I will present the person to whom Brother Donnchad gave this writing, with the request that it be hidden.’
There was now silence.
‘Very well,’ Brehon Aillín said after a quick consultation with Colgú and Abbot Ségdae. ‘You may sum up what Brother Donnchad said in this work on condition that the work is afterwards presented to us and verified to be his work.’
‘I can do that simply. I do not have to remind you that Brother Donnchad was a talented scholar, able to read and write several languages. The librarian of this abbey, Brother Donnán, has pointed out on several occasions that Brother Donnchad was most interested in the works of the early believers in the Faith – indeed, in the very origins of how the Faith spread from the Holy Land across the world.’
‘That is not denied.’ Abbot Iarnla was frowning. ‘He was always interested in those origins.’
‘For Brother Donnchad, his pilgrimage to the Holy Land was a golden opportunity to further his studies. What concerned him were the references to James in the scriptures, particularly in the gospels according to Mark and Matthew, and in the epistle to the Galatians. James was said to be the brother of the Christ and executed by the Romans some thirty years after the execution of Jesus. The references were to James Adelphotheos, Brother of the Lord.’
‘That’s nonsense!’ cried Brother Lugna, standing up. ‘The name was miswritten, it was mistranscribed. The name should have been James Alphaeus, who—’
‘I cannot debate the translation,’ cut in Fidelma. ‘I do not have that scholarship. I am merely stating what Brother Donnchad said and believed. He had pored over the texts of the Faith that were translated into Latin by the Blessed Jerome who
was also called Eusebius Hieronymus. Donnchad found references that confused him, references not only to James as the brother of Jesus, but also to Joses, Simon and Judas, and to sisters, one of whom was called Salome. They were all clearly identified as brothers and sisters of Jesus.’
Brother Lugna, still on his feet, began to argue.
‘Sit down, Brother Lugna,’ ordered Brehon Aillín. ‘This is not a scholastic debate.’ He turned to Fidelma. ‘I am allowing these statements, Fidelma, only on the grounds that you are presenting what Brother Donnchad’s thoughts were and that these thoughts have a direct bearing on his murder.’
‘I have said as much,’ agreed Fidelma firmly. ‘I am not as authoritative as Brother Donnchad so merely I repeat what he says. Brother Donnchad records that the relationship of those I have mentioned is termed adelphos throughtout the texts. Adelphos means brethren in the blood relationship sense. Had the writer wanted to suggest brethren as in the meaning of the brethren of this community, the word he would have used is suggeneia.’
She paused but no one spoke.
‘I repeat, I am no scholar in this regard. Brother Donnchad believed that he would be able to find out more when he went to the Holy Land. He made inquiries and then, when he was waiting in Sidon, which I understand is a port on the coast of the Holy Land, he began to hear stories that truly shocked him. He found that he could not even discuss them with his own brother Cathal, who remained untroubled and secure in his Faith. This he comments on in his record.
‘He heard one story that particularly distressed him. The story referred to Jesus, and we must remember Jesus is but the Greek form of the Hebrew name Yeshu or Joshua. The story was about a Yeshu ben Pantera.’
‘Yeshu was a very common Hebrew name of the time.’ This came from Brother Donnán. He glanced apologetically at the Brehon. ‘I am sorry, but I had to mention that, just in case it was thought that the name Jesus is a unique name. It’s meaning in Hebrew is “red-handed hero”.’
‘You are no doubt correct,’ Fidelma replied mildly. ‘However, Donnchad was directed to a work called the Tosefta, which is a collection of Jewish oral law, and in it is a reference to Yeshu ben Pantera. The text makes clear that this was none other than Jesus of Nazareth. The word “ben” signifies “son of”, as in our own word, “mac”.’
She had to wait while the cacophony of voices that greeted her statement subsided.
‘I will not go on to recount the research that a distraught Donnchad continued to conduct. I know that he was also led to a work by a Greek philosopher named Celsus who wrote that Mary, or Miriam, the original Hebrew name, was a girl who lived in Sepphoris in Galilee. The Romans marched through the town and she was raped by a Roman soldier of Phoenician birth called Abdes Pantera and bore him a child—’
There was a gasp and Brother Lugna was first on his feet, shouting, ‘Sacrilege, blasphemy!’
‘I am only recounting what Celsus wrote. I do not claim that he speaks the truth or that I agree with him,’ Fidelma went on determinedly. ‘Celsus wrote that the parents of Mary, who many other sources claim to have come from this city near Nazareth called Sepphoris, drove her out from their home in shame. But eventually Joseph, a carpenter, accepted her and her son.
‘In Sidonia, Brother Donnchad found other sources that spoke of a local man from the city called Abdes Pantera. He was an archer and he had joined the Roman army some years before the birth of Jesus and when he became a Roman citizen, he took the name Tiberius Julius Abdes Pantera. It is said that his regiment took part in the destruction of Sepphoris under the command of the Governor Quinctilius Varus.’
‘This is ridiculous!’ cried Brother Lugna in outrage. ‘It is profanity against the Faith. Are we to sit here and hear our Faith insulted?’
‘Once again I say that I do not offer this as fact,’ Fidelma continued doggedly. ‘It is what Brother Donnchad discovered in his research, came to believe as fact and formed his opinion.’
‘I have already ruled that it may be presented for that purpose,’ added Brehon Aillín. ‘If understanding this leads to the discovery of who killed him, then I am prepared to hear it.’
‘Brother Donnchad discovered that the name Abdes in the language spoken in Sidonia meant a “servant of Isis”, a god of the Egyptians. Abdes joined the first cohort of archers and rose to be the standard bearer, a signifer. Abdes served forty years in the Roman army and Brother Donnchad discovered that his regiment, the Cohors Primus Sagittariorum, was stationed in Judea until Jesus was nine years old. Then the cohort was moved to the northern frontier in Germania Superior along the banks of the River Renos. Abdes was stationed in a fort called Bingium where, at the age of sixty-two years, he died and where he was buried.’
‘You say all this was written down by Brother Donnchad?’ demanded Abbot Ségdae, then he turned to the Brehon. ‘Forgive me, Brehon Aillín, I want to be absolutely sure on this point.’
‘It was,’ replied Fidelma. ‘His written account will be presented to you as evidence. I know nothing of these places or their history. All I know is that Brother Donnchad wrote this down and was influenced by it. On his return journey, when he landed at Tarentum, he bade farewell to his blood brother, Cathal, and continued his journey north. He crossed the mountains. Finally, he arrived in Bingium by way of the River Renos. There, so he recounts, he found a guide who led him to the grave of Abdes Pantera. The Latin inscription was still clearly legible. He recorded it word for word.’
‘But all this proves nothing about who killed him,’ Brehon Aillín interjected.
‘What this is meant to prove is the state of Brother Donnchad’s mind – and a motive for his killing. As I have frequently said, I do not vouch for its accuracy one way or the other. But Brother Donnchad found himself troubled by the story, which is known to the people of Judea, the story of a rape in Nazareth, mentioned in a Jewish law text, recounted by the Phoenicians in Sidonia, and by Greek and Latin writers like Celsus. The story Celsus tells was even rebutted by Origenes who took the arguments seriously enough to argue with them. Brother Donnchad went so far as to trace the tomb of Abdes in Germania. Brother Donnchad was a great scholar. True or not, this was the matter that troubled him.
‘What he had uncovered created such doubts in his mind that he was losing his belief in the new Faith, He was a very logical man. But, at times, belief calls upon us to shed our rational minds and simply accept that which we are unable to prove. Credo quia impossible est, I believe it because it is impossible, as many of our priests would say. Well, faced with evidence of a rational story about Christ, Brother Donnchad found he could no longer believe what logic told him was impossible.’
There was another ripple of angry mutterings in the refectorium. Eadulf looked round uncomfortably. Fidelma was only presenting arguments that had caused Brother Donnchad to slip away from the Faith but to those who sincerely believed, it was as if she was preaching heresy or attacking the Faith itself.
Brehon Aillín rapped his staff of office. ‘And you maintain that his doubts provoked such anger in someone that that person killed him?’
Colgú intervened. ‘We have only to witness some of the emotions that this story has provoked here to realise that such an anger is not beyond possibility,’ he pointed out.
‘Exactly so,’ replied Fidelma, nodding. ‘Who in this abbey is so fanatical in their belief that they would do anything to stop a scholar of Brother Donnchad’s reputation from proclaiming his views that might harm the Faith? Many of our people have not yet entirely accepted the Faith. It is only two centuries since the Five Kingdoms began to hear and accept the Word of Christ. What, then, if Brother Donnchad, recently back from the Holy Land, began to tell this story?’
There was an unhappy murmur and many of the brethren looked at one another awkwardly.
Abbot Iarnla’s face was pale. He said slowly, ‘Everyone in this abbey is of the Faith and to proclaim a disbelief in the Faith is a great sin.’
‘But we are a tolerant
people for we are but newly come to this new understanding with God,’ Brehon Aillín declared. ‘We tolerate and seek to persuade others to the Faith, especially those who are reluctant to make the leap into a new world that has come upon us from the East.’
‘We cannot afford tolerance,’ Brother Lugna snapped. ‘The Faith is inviolable and every soul lost is a soul condemned to the fires of hell.’
‘Brother Lugna is dogmatic on such points,’ pointed out Fidelma mildly.
‘I am only dogmatic when people deny the truth of the Faith.’
‘Indeed. One would say that you have a fanatical belief.’
‘I am zealous for my Faith, that is true.’
‘And if someone disagreed with your Faith?’ prompted Fidelma.
Brother Lugna opened his mouth to respond and then snapped it shut as he realised where Fidelma was leading him.
Fidelma watched him. ‘Your sect does not hold with dissension, does it?’
Brehon Aillín had given up trying to make people accept the protocol of the court. Now he turned to Fidelma with a question. ‘His sect? What do you mean?’
‘I once talked with Brother Lugna about the rules of Pope Clement.’
‘Persecutions!’ Brother Lugna almost spat the word.
‘It was ruled by Clement that certain philosophies were not consistent with the Faith.’
‘He persecuted the Manichaeists and Donatists.’
‘And the Novatianists,’ added Fidelma. ‘That is the sect you follow, isn’t it?’
Brehon Aillín was clearly puzzled, as were several others.
‘Novatian was a religious and teacher in Rome,’ Fidelma explained. ‘In fact, he is regarded as the first member of the Faith to write his work in Latin instead of Greek. But he opposed the election of Cornelius as Pope on the grounds that Cornelius was too gentle and forgiving to lapsed Christians. He held that those who did not maintain the Faith, even under torture and persecution, should not be received back into the Faith, whether or not they repented. He also argued that if a widow or a widower remarried, their second marriage was unlawful and they should be publicly accused of fornication and punished. His mistake, however, was in setting himself up as a rival head of the Church in Rome. He claimed that he was Pope. He was immediately excommunicated at a Council in Rome. His teachings were deemed heretical.’
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