The Spider's Web

side, in his official capacity of commander of the guard, while those engaged in the litigation were seated on wooden benches which had been brought forward in front of the dais. Muadnat, with the dark, lean-faced companion who had been at Lios Mhór, were seated to the right while Archú and Scoth were seated to the left with Eadulf. Warriors of Dubán’s guard had taken up strategic positions at the rear of the hall. As she came into the hall, Fidelma noticed that Father Gormán was seated towards the back.

As soon as Fidelma had entered and taken her seat next to Crón, Muadnat recognised the religieuse. He was on his feet shouting. ‘I protest!’

Crón settled herself and regarded him impassively.

‘You protest already? About what?’

Muadnat was glaring at Fidelma and he raised a hand to point a finger at her.

‘I will not have that woman judging my case today.’

Crón’s lips thinned slightly.

‘That woman? To whom do you refer?’

Muadnat bit his tongue.

‘Fidelma of Kildare,’ he growled.

‘Sister Fidelma is here at my invitation and is a dalaigh of the courts of the five kingdoms, learned in law. Is there some reason why you object to her presence, Muadnat?’

Muadnat was still angry.

‘I object on grounds of … of …’ He fumbled for the right word. ‘On grounds of partiality. She has already shown herself in favour of the accused. She was judge over his claim to lands which belonged to me and gave them to him. I will not have her as my judge.’

‘Nor will she be,’ Crón replied softly. ‘I am judge in this case. Mine is the decision but Sister Fidelma sits to advise on law and she shall do so. Now proceed, Muadnat, with your case if you have one to make.’

Sister Fidelma leant towards Crón and whispered in her ear. Crón nodded grimly and added loudly to Muadnat: ‘I have taken into account your verbal insult on a Brehon. This is regarded with utmost seriousness and the offence requires the payment of your victim’s honour-price.’

Muadnat’s mouth dropped in consternation.

Crón paused to let him dwell on what she was saying. Then she continued: ‘As it appears that you have spoken merely in ignorance, Sister Fidelma is willing to forgo the payment. However, she cannot ignore the insult for to do so, according to law, makes her guilty of tolerating the insult and thus losing her honour-price. Some compensation therefore must be extracted from you. We will return to this matter after I,’ she paused for emphasis, ‘have heard the charges which you wish to bring before me for judgment.’

The big man hesitated, swaying a little as if he had been hit, and then, apparently accepting Crón’s ruling and pulling himselftogether, he stared sullenly in front of him.

‘Very well. The facts are simple and I have a witness to the facts — my chief herdsman and nephew, Agdae, who sits with me today.’

He turned and indicated his companion.

‘Tell us these facts,’ invited Crón.

There was a movement behind the dais and Cranat entered abruptly. She was dressed as opulently as ever. She frowned in annoyance as she saw Fidelma seated in what was doubtlessly considered her rightful place in the hall. She paused in mid-stride but before she could say anything her daughter spoke.

‘Mother, you did not tell me that you wished to attend this court?’ Crón was clearly annoyed at the interruption to the proceedings.

Cranat glanced to where Muadnat was standing. Did the burly farmer cast her a warning look and give a slight shake of his head? Fidelma could not be sure.

Cranat’s mouth drooped in disapproval.

‘I will sit and observe, daughter.’ She went to a quiet corner where there was an unoccupied bench and seated herself, head held high. She was obviously displeased and perplexed. She said audibly as she seated herself: ‘I did not have to seek such permission while Eber was alive.’

‘Sister Fidelma, as a dálaigh, is here to guide me in law only,’ Crón felt she had to explain to her mother before turning back to Muadnat. ‘Proceed. You were about to tell me the facts, Muadnat.’

‘Easy to tell. My farmland borders on the land now farmed by Archú.’

Fidelma sat expressionless, her sharp eyes watching Muadnat carefully. The big farmer seemed confident enough as he launched into his charges.

‘Two nights ago, the pigs that were kept by Archú were allowed to trample through the fence that borders our farmlands. They came at night. They did damage to my crops. One of the hogsfought with one of mine, causing injury. The pigs defecated in my farmyard. Is this not so, Agdae?’

The lean man nodded, almost glumly.

Muadnat went on: ‘Every farmer in the land knows the law. I demand the full measure of compensation for this.’

He sat down abruptly.

Crón turned her gaze to Agdae.

‘Can you confirm everything that Muadnat has said, bearing witness without fear or favour of Muadnat to whom you are related and for whom you labour?’

Agdae stood up, glanced at Muadnat and nodded rapidly.

‘It is so, tanist of the Araglin. It is exactly as my uncle claims it to be.’

He sat down with equal swiftness.

Crón turned to Archú and motioned him to stand.

‘You have heard the charges made against you. What have you to say in your defence, Archú? Do you dispute the facts as we have heard them?’

The young man stood up. His expression was one of weary resignation. Scoth caught at his hand as if to give him comfort.

‘It is true.’ He spoke as if he was filled with fatigue. ‘The pigs did escape from my land and crossed into Muadnat’s and caused the damage as he said.’

Muadnat’s face creased into a broad triumphant smile.

‘He admits it,’ he observed aloud, as if to emphasise the point to the court.

Crón ignored him.

‘Have you nothing to say in your defence?’ she pressed.

‘Nothing. I had built a temporary pen for the pigs as best I could and found that this had been pulled down. The pigs themselves had not destroyed it.’

Crón leant forward eagerly.

‘Are you claiming that the fence was pulled down deliberately?’

‘I believe it to have been so.’

Muadnat gave a bark of laughter.

‘Desperation forces the youth to lie. You cannot believe that.’

‘Do you name the person responsible?’ asked Crón. ‘If so, you must substantiate that claim.’

Archú looked with hatred at Muadnat.

‘I cannot make any such claims. I have no witness to support me. I did not see who damaged the pig pen. I can make no defence.’

‘The facts are clear!’ Muadnat called impatiently. ‘The boy admits them. Give me the full measure of compensation.’

‘Have you anything else to say, Archú?’ inquired Crón.

‘Judge me as you will,’ said the youth in resignation, returning to his seat.

It was then that Fidelma leant forward and touched Crón’s arm gently.

‘If I may be permitted to ask some questions to settle points of law?’

Crón indicated her agreement: ‘Proceed.’

‘My first question is addressed to Archú. When did you come into legal possession of your farm and the ownership of your pigs?’