The Leper's bell

stranger, but he had status in his own land. He was a hereditary gerefa, a sort of judge among his people.’

‘Hereditary!’ sneered Brehon Dathal. ‘How can one inherit the competence of a judge without learning?’

‘The ways of the Saxons are not our ways,’ murmured the young king. ‘However, the point I am making is that Eadulf is deserving of respect if not for his own sake, then for my sake and that of my sister.’

Brehon Dathal said nothing.

‘Brehon Dathal, we have known each other a long time. Consider your position carefully now. You have made more than one error in recent times.’

Brehon Dathal’s chin came up aggressively.

‘Are you suggesting that I am no longer capable?’

‘I am suggesting that it is now time to rest and watch others work. Stay in Cashel, if you will. Be an adviser to me. But now is the time to cease the arduous task of holding courts.’

‘Who will you promote in my place … your sister?’ The words were spoken challengingly.

Colgú shook his head quickly. ‘Fidelma is not qualified for the position, nor would she want the task. She has studied only to the level of anruth, as well you know. To become a Brehon of standing she would need two — even four — more years of study to become a rosai or an ollamh.’ These were the highest qualifications anyone could aspire to. ‘You are a man of great experience and wisdom. In this appointment, friend Dathal, I would appreciate your advice. Who would you choose as my new Chief Brehon?’

Brehon Dathal began to look slightly mollified. Colgú waited patiently while the old man sat hesitating. Then it seemed that the old judge became reconciled to the inevitability of the decision that had to be made.

‘Well, there is a rosai named Baithen whom I would think well qualified.’

Colgú smiled in satisfaction. He spared the old man’s feelings by neglecting to say that he had already sent for Brehon Baithen, who had been conducting hearings at Lios Mhór. It had been Baithen who had thrice heard appeals against Dathal’s judgements and overturned them.

‘I have heard of this Brehon. It is a good choice.’

‘He has a growing reputation,’ Brehon Dathal agreed reluctantly. ‘He is talented.’

‘Then he will be asked here to judge of the matter of Sárait’s death and apportion blame and compensation.’

Brehon Dathal frowned slightly at this news.

‘So your sister believes that the Uí Fidgente are innocent of Sárait’s death and the abduction of the baby, does she?’

‘I believe that she has learnt new facts and prepared fresh arguments. Eadulf has brought us interesting evidence. But the case will be argued before Baithen.’

The old man’s shoulders sagged slightly.

‘You sister does not take kindly to me over this matter of Bishop Petrán.’

‘I am sure that she will agree that you acted according to your conscience, my old friend. You were simply not in possession of the facts. That is all.’

He knew he was bending the truth of Brother Conchobar’s evidence to save the old man’s dignity.

There was another silence, and Colgú felt somewhat relieved when the old man rose slowly from his seat.

‘With your permission, my king, I shall retire to my chamber and rest.’

Colgú gestured with his hand in agreement.

The old judge, head bent to his shoulders, left the chamber, shutting the door behind him.

For some time Colgú sat looking at the closed door and then he sighed sadly. It was no more than two years since he had been confirmed in the kingship and for several years before that he had been heir apparent to his cousin Cathal, who had died of the Yellow Fever. This was the first time that he had been forced to dismiss one of his closest advisers, one who had served his father and his cousin, and now … Colgú turned to a side table and poured himself a drink of corma. It was the duty of a king to realise that time had to move on. People had to move on. It was inevitable. With the office of a ruler came the duty. If a king did not act he would not be regarded; if he was too hard, he would be broken; if he was too feeble, he would be crushed. Above all, he had to move with wisdom and subtlety, for if he showed himself more wise than others too much would be expected of him, and if more foolish he would find people deceiving him. There was always a middle way. That was the nature of kingship.

Chapter Eighteen

Eadulf lay on the bed, hands folded over a well-filled stomach, and gave a deep sigh.

‘There were times, Fidelma, during the last few days when I did not expect to be in this bed or this chamber again.’

Fidelma was pouring some mulled wine into a goblet as she knelt by the fire in the hearth. She rose and went across to the cot where Alchú lay peacefully asleep.

‘Nor I, Eadulf. Nor did I expect to see this young one again.’ She glanced anxiously at him. ‘It is only when you lose something that you realise just how valuable it is to you.’

Eadulf eased himself into a sitting position. For a moment he wondered whether Fidelma’s face was red from the heat of the fire or from the mulled wine that she was sipping. Before he could say anything Fidelma went hurriedly on as if drowning out her own thoughts: ‘I have listened now to everything the witnesses have to say. The abduction of Alchú does not seem to be the issue. It was a matter of accident that Corb and Corbnait mistook him for an abandoned baby.’

‘Uaman’s involvement was no accident.’

She inclined her head thoughtfully. ‘I spoke to Gormán. Colgú has already sent some of his guard to bring Fiachrae back to Cashel for a hearing of his conduct. We may get some of the Uí Fidgente to confess to Fiachrae’s involvement with them. But the main mystery remains. Who killed Sárait and precipitated this evil series of events?’

Eadulf rubbed his chin pensively. ‘Have you spoken to Delia further about the cloak you recognised as hers?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Do you think she had lost it on purpose, or had someone taken it?’

‘I don’t think Delia was lying. Why would she want to kill Sárait?’

‘There is an answer. Gormán told us both that he was in love with Sárait. You believe that Delia is more than fond of Gormán. And we know that Sárait’s husband was not the father of her stillborn child. It seems logical that Gormán might have been the father and that Delia…’ He paused and shrugged.

‘It sounds far-fetched,’ muttered Fidelma. ‘Delia is not so blind in her emotions that-’ She stopped short. Where emotions were concerned, all beings could become blind.

Eadulf was silent for a while. Then he sat up and rose from the bed, going to the fire and pouring himself another goblet of the warm, mulled wine.

‘I meant to ask you, what made everyone so certain that the ransom note was genuine? Before I left, it was agreed that proof was to be demanded from the kidnappers. So why were the three Uí Fidgente chieftains released?’

Fidelma stretched in a chair before the fire. ‘Throw another log on,’ she instructed as Eadulf was bending before it. He selected one and placed it on the flames. Fidelma continued: ‘Didn’t Gormán tell you?’

‘Gormán? What has he to do with that?’

‘The innkeeper in the town handed him the response to our demand. It was attached to the door of the local tavern.’

Eadulf whistled sharply. ‘So the person responsible was in the vicinity of Cashel the whole time?’

‘I wonder why Gormán didn’t mention it?’ Fidelma pondered.