The Spider's Web

‘So Muadnat has already checked the law?’

‘What are you implying?’ demanded the young tanist sharply.

‘I am simply making an observation, not implying anything. It is true, however, that if through malice and neglect the animal trespass did happen then the owner of the animals is regarded on the same level as human trespass; if that trespass takes place at night, it doubles the level of the fine; that the animals defecated further increases the amount of compensation. In other words, Archú would have to pay a substantial amount in compensation to Muadnat.’

Crón agreed.

‘Probably half or more of what his farm is worth,’ she said. ‘Unless he has additional value in livestock than just the value of the farm, he will doubtless lose the farm.’

‘And we both know that he has not,’ replied Fidelma tightly. ‘Muadnat will settle for nothing less than the farm.’

‘I believe that is the law.’

Fidelma thought carefully before speaking again.

‘As chieftain-elect, it is your right and responsibility to sit in judgment in your clan territory — and you may sit alone when there is no Brehon available.’

‘I am aware of my rights and duties.’ Crón’s eyes narrowed a little in suspicion.

‘I mean no offence when I ask you, to what level have you studied law?’

‘I have studied only the Bretha Comaithchesa, the Law of Neighbours, for we are a small farming community and this is the law that most applies here. But I am not qualified in law. I studied at Lios Mhór for only three years to the level of Freisneidhed.’

Fidelma nodded slowly. The degree of three years of study was one which most chieftains in the five kingdoms could boast of obtaining. Chieftains had to be educated for they had to fulfil many duties and being a judge of the tribal court was one of them. She realised that Crón was regarding her with some hostility. She would have to be diplomatic, as Eadulf had implored her to be, for her relationship with Crón was already a difficult one.

‘Would you allow me to sit with you and advise in this case?’

Crón flushed, thinking some insult was meant.

‘I think I am capable of making judgment in this matter,’ she responded protectively. ‘I have sat and watched my father make judgments many times.’

‘I did not say that you were not capable,’ Fidelma replied in a pacifying tone. ‘But I have a feeling that there is something more here than a simple case of trespass. Remember, I have seen Muadnat attempt to use the law to dispossess Archú before.’

‘Wouldn’t that make you biased in your judgment?’ Crón asked, trying hard to repress the hint of a sneer.

‘Perhaps I am biased,’ agreed Fidelma benignly. ‘But what I suggest, however, is that you make the judgment, while I merely am seated at your side to advise you on any matters of law. I promise you that my advice will be strictly on matters of law.’

Crón hesitated, wondering if there was some hidden meaning to Fidelma’s offer.

‘The judgment is mine to make?’

‘You are the chieftain-elect of the Araglin,’ acknowledged Fidelma. ‘You will make the judgment.’

Crón thought for a moment. It was true that Fidelma, as a dálaigh qualified to the level of anruth, one degree below the highest awarded in the five kingdoms, could simply demand to take her seat in judgment. That was the law for, in a place where there was no permanent Brehon, a visiting judge could, depending on their degree of office, outrank a minor chieftain. That Fidelma had asked permission merely to sit and advise was clearly herway of showing that she did not wish to interfere with Crón’s authority.

‘What could be wrong with Muadnat’s plea?’ Crón demanded, still defensively.

‘That remains to be seen. Muadnat was bitter when the law was pronounced against him and he lost the farm to young Archú.’

Crón accepted this.

‘Do you think that Muadnat has concocted this charge then?’

‘As you will sit in judgment on him, it is better, perhaps, if I kept my thoughts to myself,’ Fidelma immediately replied. ‘But let me sit with you and I will advise you merely on the law, and you will judge the facts. My words will be on law, no more. You have my oath on it.’

‘Then, to that I agree.’ For the first time in the presence of Fidelma, Crón gave what appeared to be a genuine smile of friendship.

‘What time is Muadnat to present himself before you?’

‘At the midday hour.’

‘Then I will go and tell Eadulf.’

‘He is an interesting man, that Saxon of yours,’ Crón observed slyly.

‘Of mine?’ Fidelma arched an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Eadulf belongs to no woman or man.’

‘You appear friendly enough,’ Crón replied. ‘Surely, the handsome brother does not believe in the ideas that Father Gormán teaches about the servants of God, male and female, remaining in celibacy?’

Fidelma found herself flushing.

She realised that although she had debated all the aspects of Roman teaching with Eadulf they had never touched on the concept of celibacy. While Rome made no hard and fast rule on the celibacy of the religious, it was true that there was a growing number of the clergy who believed in the idea that members of the religious should not cohabit or marry. It was surely such an alien ideato human beings that it would never be accepted.

She found Crón watching her with some amusement.

She thrust out her chin.

‘Brother Eadulf and I have been friends, and friends alone, since we met at the council held at Hilda’s abbey in Northumbria. That is all.’

It was clear that Crón treated the assurance with some scepticism.

‘It is nice,’ she observed meaningfully, ‘to have such a friend.’

‘Speaking of friends,’ Fidelma returned slyly, ‘I must find Dubán.’

‘What is so important that you need speak with him so urgently?’ queried the tanist.

‘Have you heard of Gadra?’

Crón looked surprised.

‘Why do you wish to know about Gadra?’

‘So you do know him?’ pressed Fidelma eagerly.

‘Of course. I have not seen him since I was a tiny girl. I can just remember him. He lived at Teafa’s cabin for some years. But he went away again. He is a hermit. Nowadays the young ones think he is just a bogeyman. Because he is a hermit who vanished into the hills, some people use him as a means of scaring children into obedience.’

‘Do you know where Gadra may be found?’

Crón shook her head.

‘I doubt if he still lives.’ She shrugged. ‘But if he does then it would take a brave person to go in search of him for it was said he refused to acknowledge the Faith and consorted with evil.’

‘Consorted with evil?’

Crón nodded seriously.

‘He clung to the faith of our pagan ancestors and they say that this was why he withdrew into the vastness of the dark mountains.’

There was a movement behind Fidelma and she turned to see the middle-aged warrior enter self- consciously.

Dubán glanced from Fidelma to Crón quickly, trying to feign surprise at finding them together, and then raised a hand in salute to his tanist. Fidelma was aware that anyone who could act with such duplicity might well be able to be equally evasive in other matters.

‘The talk is of lack of success in your venture, Dubán.’ Crón greeted him with a slightly