‘He is an ambitious man. A first-class blacksmith and a good warrior, I know that.’
‘Perhaps he has some secret. Maybe he betrayed a colleague in battle?’
Rudgal chuckled.
‘Look somewhere else, Brother. We fought together, side by side, at Hill of Aine against the Arada Cliach last year. He showed himself courageous in battle.’
Eadulf was staring at the man in surprise.
‘You fought there against the Arada Cliach? But that means that you fought against the army of the king of Cashel?’
Rudgal dismissed the matter with a grim smile.
‘We answered the call of our chieftain, Laisre, who in turn served Eoganán of the Uí Fidgente. But now Eoganán is dead and there is peace between the Uí Fidgente and Cashel again. So there is peace between Laisre and Cashel, too. But Artgal’s ambition lay not in wars. I know this, for he said his ambition was soon to be fulfilled in peace.’
‘I swear I do not understand your internal politics,’ muttered Eadulf. ‘Even if I did it still would not help me. Apart from Artgal’s prowess as a blacksmith and a warrior, is there nothing you can tell me about him? What is this you say about Artgal’s ambition?’
‘Ambition is no crime.’
‘But you said that he indicated that his ambition might be fulfilled.’
‘In fact, he swore as much this morning.’
‘What ambition?’ insisted Eadulf.
‘To expand his small farmstead and smithy and employ an apprentice, to be able to afford to have a wife. You’ll find nothing sinister in that.’
‘Indeed. Innocent enough. Why did it become an ambition?’
‘He had not been able to save enough to buy milch cows to form the basis of his stock. His smithy is inactive because Goban is the chief smith here. Most people go to him for more crafted work. Artgal’s farmstead is poor and he is always looking for work. He mainly ekes out an existence on the largesse he receives from Laisre as his bodyguard. But now he has been able to purchase two milch cows.’
‘Well, there is nothing in that which I can use to show that his word is not to be trusted.’
Rudgal agreed.
‘True enough. Though I don’t think he actually saved to buy the cows. Two days ago he was without money. We were gambling at Ronan’s farm and Artgal was losing heavily. At one point, he even offered to put up his farmstead and smithy shop as surety for his bet.’
Eadulf was not particularly interested.
‘So he won the cows or the money for them by gambling. That, too, is not to be condemned.’
Rudgal shook his head.
‘But he didn’t. He won sparingly enough to ensure that he did not lose his farmstead. He did not make any money. He left the game as broke as he had entered it. He took out only what he had put in.’
Eadulf felt a flicker of interest.
‘So where did he get the two cows from and how do you know about this?’
‘Only a short while ago I heard him talking to Ronan about nearly losing his farmstead in the game that night. He said, and I overheard this clearly, that fortune had smiled on him because he had just been given two milch cows as a reward for telling the truth.’
Eadulf looked up sharply.
‘He used those very words?’
‘The very words. He also said that in nine days’ time he would have a further milch cow to make three. With three milch cows he would be secure.’
Eadulf was staring hard at the fair-haired warrior who did not seem concerned at the effect that his words had.
‘Just repeat this — you said that you heard Artgal say that he had been given two cows as a reward for telling the truth and that in nine days’ time he would receive a further cow? Are those the exact words?’
Rudgal scratched his head as if this helped him to concentrate.
‘Indeed. Those are the words he said.’
‘But are you sure that he particularly used the expression “in nine days’ time” he would receive another cow? That is what he said?’
‘Oh yes. Nine days were mentioned.’
Eadulf sat back and drummed his fingers on the table top.
‘Is this helpful?’ inquired Rudgal after a moment or two when Eadulf did not make any further comment.
Eadulf brought his gaze back to the man absently.
‘What? Helpful? Yes … perhaps. I don’t know. I must think on this.’
Rudgal coughed nervously.
‘Then shall I return to Murgal? If so, what answer shall I give him?’
Eadulf hesitated a moment and then broke out into a broad smile.
‘Tell Murgal that I am now prepared. I shall pursue my arguments on procedure and stand by them. Take these books and tell him so.’
‘I thought that you wanted them for another hour or two?’
‘No longer. I think I now know the path to follow.’
‘And you agree that you will be able to present your case to Murgal this afternoon?’
‘I do agree,’ Eadulf said emphatically.
Rudgal collected the books and Eadulf accompanied him to the door.
‘Once I have told Murgal,’ Rudgal said, ‘I will take this news to Sister Fidelma. I wish you luck, Brother, in your effort to free her.’
Eadulf raised a hand in brief acknowledgment but it was plain that his mind was elsewhere. After a while he turned his gaze to the notes that he had been making from the law texts. Then he sat down again with a frown on his features as he drifted into deep thought.
Chapter Thirteen
Eadulf was plainly nervous as he took his stand before Murgal the Brehon who sat in his traditional place at the left-hand side of Laisre. The chieftain himself looked far from happy as he slumped silently in his chair allowing Murgal to conduct the entire proceedings. Fidelma had been brought from her place of confinement by Rudgal who stood just behind her chair which was placed in front of Laisre and Murgal.
It seemed that the entire inhabitants of the ráth had turned out to witness the event. Eadulf was aware of the presence of the tanist, Colla, and his wife, Orla, on the right-hand side of the chieftain. There was the scowling youthful Brother Dianach. Esnad sat next to him. Artgal stood at the back, his features still fixed in a derisive grin. There was the attractive apothecary, Marga, and the handsome young horse trader, Ibor of Muirthemne, was seated by her side. Even Cruinn lurked in the background with her large girth. The atmosphere was one of tense expectancy.
Murgal had called for silence but there was almost no need. A hush had already descended from the moment Fidelma had been brought in and told to be seated.
The clan of Gleann Geis had never witnessed such an entertainment, as Colla admitted afterwards.
Having established order, Murgal formally opened the proceedings.
‘It is my understanding that Fidelma of Cashel wishes to make a plea to be released on her own recognisances and to remain at liberty until such time as she appears before this court after the nine days prescribed by law when she may answer as to her culpability in the murder of Solin of Armagh? Is that so?’
‘It is so,’ Eadulf responded. ‘And I speak for her in this place.’
Laisre was unhappy.
