Whispers of the Dead

of the lowest classes in society, being a crofter or cowherder. Bothachs had no political or clan rights, but they were capable of acquiring their own plots of land by contract. While there were no restrictions placed on whom they could work for, they were not allowed to leave the clan territory except by special permission. If they worked well, they could eventually expect to acquire full citizen’s rights.

“Aye,” Brocc was bitter. “It is always the lower orders who are blamed when a crime is committed. Always the bottom end of the social scale who get the blame. That is why Odar is trying to make out that my boy and I were in league to rob Findach.”

Fidelma was beginning to understand what Brehon Tuama had been trying to tell her about Odar’s insistence that Braon stand trial.

“You and your son have nothing to fear so long as you tell the truth,” she said, trying not to let it sound like a platitude. “If I believe your son is innocent then I will defend him.” Fidelma paused for a moment. “You realize that under the law it will be your responsibility to pay the compensation and fines if your son is found guilty? Are you more concerned about that or whether your son is innocent?”

Brocc scowled, his features reddening.

“That is unjust. I will pay you seven séds if you simply defend him. That is a token of my faith in my son.”

The sum was the value of seven milch cows.

Fidelma’s face showed that she was not impressed.

“Brehon Tuama should have informed you that my fees, which are payable directly to my community and not to me, do not vary but stand at two séds and only change when they are remitted because of exceptional circumstances such as the poverty of those who seek my assistance.”

Brocc stood uncertainly with lips compressed. Fidelma went on:

“Since you are here, Brocc, you may tell me a little about your son, Braon. Did he frequently work for Findach?”

“Not for Findach, that mean. .!” Brocc caught himself. “No, my boy worked for his wife, Muirenn. Muirenn was a kindly soul, a good soul. My boy would never have harmed her.”

“How often did he work for Muirenn and in what capacity?”

“My boy and I are cowherds. We hire our labor to those who need an expert hand.”

“So you knew Braon was going to work for Muirenn that morning?”

“I did. She had asked him to tend her cows in the pasture above the house.”

“And that was a usual task for him?”

“Usual? It was.”

“Did anyone else know he was going to Muirenn’s house this morning?”

“The boy’s mother knew and doubtless Muirenn told that mean husband of hers.”

Fidelma was interested.

“Why do you call Findach mean?”

“The man was tightfisted. It was well known. He behaved as if he was as poor as a church mouse.”

Fidelma glanced to Brehon Tuama for confirmation. The tall magistrate shrugged.

“It is true that Findach was not renowned for his generosity, Sister. He always claimed he had little money. The truth was he spent a lot on gambling. In fact, only the other day Odar told me that Findach owed him a large sum. Ten séds, as I recall. Yet Findach would not even employ an assistant or an apprentice at his forge.”

“Yet he did pay for help with his cow herd.”

Brocc laughed harshly.

“The herd was his wife’s property and she paid my son.”

A wife, under law, remained the owner of all the property and wealth that she brought into a marriage. Fidelma appreciated the point.

“So, as far as you knew, your son went off to work as usual. You noticed nothing unusual at all?”

“I did not.”

“And during that day, you never went near Findach’s house nor his forge?”

“Nowhere near.”

“You can prove it?”

Brocc glowered for a moment.

“I can prove it. I was in Lonán’s pastures helping him thresh hay. I was there until someone came with the news of Braon’s arrest.”

“Very well.” Fidelma rose abruptly.

“I think I would like to see Findach’s house and speak with this renowned smith.”

The house of Findach the Smith stood on the edge of the township. It was isolated among a small copse of hazel and oak.

Findach was a stocky, muscular man of indiscernible age. He had a short neck and the build that one associated with a smith. He gazed distastefully at Fidelma.

“If you seek to defend my wife’s killer, dálaigh, you are not welcome in this house.” His voice was a low growl of anger.

Fidelma was not perturbed.

“Inform Findach of the law and my rights as a dálaigh, Tuama,” she instructed, her eyes not leaving those of the smith.

“You are obliged by law to answer all the dálaigh’s questions and allow free access to all. .”

Findach cut the Brehon short with a scowl and turned abruptly inside the house, leaving them to follow.

Fidelma addressed herself to Brehon Tuama.

“Show me where the body was lying.”

Tuama pointed to the floor inside the first room, which was the kitchen.

“And where was the boy found?”

Findach answered this time, turning and pushing open a door sharply.

“The killer was hiding in here,” he grunted.

“I understand that you knew that Brother Caisín would be arriving to collect the silver cross you had made for his abbey?”

Findach glanced at Brehon Tuama who stood stony-faced. Then he shrugged. His voice was ungracious.

“I expected someone from the abbey to come to collect the piece. It was the agreed day.”

“You brought the cross from your forge to the house. Wasn’t that unusual?”

“I brought it here for safekeeping. There is no one at my forge at night and so I do not leave valuable items there.”

“How valuable was this cross?”

“My commission price was twenty-one séds.”

“Describe the cross, its weight and size.”

“It was of silver mined at Magh Méine. Just over a meter in height and half of that across the arms. It was heavy. The only way I could carry it was by means of a rope slung across my back.”

“Brother Caisín was to carry it in the same fashion?”

“I believe he arrived on an ass, realizing the weight to be transported.”

“And where did you leave the cross?”

“It was standing in that corner of the room.”

Fidelma went and looked at the corner that he indicated.

“You believe that the boy, Braon, came into your house, saw this cross, killed your wife, and took it, as heavy as it was, and then-presumably having hidden it-returned to this house? Having done that, hearing the arrival of Brother Caisín, he then hid himself in that room, where he was discovered?”

Findach scowled at her smile of skepticism.

“How else do you explain it?”

“I don’t have to, as yet. What time did you leave that morning to go to your forge?”