A Prayer for the Damned

‘To be offered such an abbey was a great thing for a poor monk such as I. Truly was the Blessed Féchin and his work renowned through the five kingdoms. Muirchertach’s senior bishop was summoned and I was ordained both bishop and abbot of Conga.’

‘And was this reward because you discovered the reason why Searc took her own life?’ demanded Eadulf cynically.

Abbot Augaire gave a lopsided grin. ‘I think politics played a part.’

‘Politics?’

‘You know that the lady Aíbnat was the daughter of Rogallach mac Uatach of the Uí Briúin Ai, who are rivals to the Uí Fiachracha for the kingship of Connacht?’

Eadulf looked helpless.

‘Rogallach was king of Connacht and died nearly twenty years ago,’ Fidelma explained quickly. ‘But when he died, through the influence of Féchin and other leading churchmen, it was first Laidgnen and then his brother Guaire Aidne of the Uí Fiachracha who became kings. Guaire was Muirchertach’s father.’

Abbot Augaire was nodding. ‘Muirchertach wanted to keep the abbey of Conga in the hands of someone who owed him a debt and therefore allegiance.’

‘Which you do?’ queried Fidelma.

‘I make no secret of it. My father was a huntsman, a tracker. From a humble beginning, now, as abbot and bishop, I control lands that make Ultán’s miserable house at Cill Ria look poverty-stricken. From the river of the Uí Briúin northward to Sliabh Neimhtheann and from the Ford of the Sanctuary west to the great sea coast, these are the lands of the abbey of Conga.’

Abbot Augaire sounded as if he were boasting. Fidelma was looking disapproving.

‘And what did you have to give in return for this?’

‘Loyalty and service to Muirchertach,’ he replied simply.

‘Which included being his envoy to Ultán?’

‘That, indeed, has been the extent of my service. I made the trip to Cill Ria seven times during two years. I was accompanied by a brehon to add to my authority. After which, these last two years, I have not been called upon for any service. I was glad when my journeys to Cill Ria ended. Each trip to Ultán made me want to forget that we both served God and were brothers in Christ. His refusal to concede any wrongdoing and even any involvement in the deaths of Senach and Searc made me, frankly, want to lay hands on him in a physical sense.’

‘When compensation was demanded, he refused?’

Abbot Augaire grimaced irritably. ‘Did that slimy little scribe Drón tell you that? He was usually at our meetings and bleating on about the Penitentials overriding the rule of our law. It became monotonous.’

‘To sum up,’ Fidelma said, ‘Ultán refused to accept judgement by a brehon under our law.’

‘Saying that he ruled by the Penitentials and would hear no more of the laws of the brehons in his abbey,’ agreed Augaire.

Fidelma sat back thoughtfully and folded her hands.

‘There is one thing that puzzles me,’ she said softly.

‘Which is?’

‘The law is plain. There is a course that could have been taken to pressurise Ultán into submitting to the justice of a brehon.’

‘Which is?’

‘If a defendant is of the nemed rank, that is a privileged person or noble — and Ultán certainly came into the class of privilege — then the plaintiff could, if willing, proceed to the troscud, the ritual fast to ensure the defendant accepts judgement. Several times this has been used against the óes ecalso — churchmen of rank — to ensure they accept civil judgement.’

Abbot Augaire smiled sadly. ‘Such a ritual fast was discussed and even attempted.’

‘The apad was properly made?’ Fidelma asked. ‘The notification to all concerned parties?’

‘So far as I know, it was.’

‘Who undertook the troscud? Muirchertach was not blood kin and therefore he was excluded. So was it Aíbnat?’

‘She was not concerned in the matter at all.’

‘Then who?’

‘Muirchertach persuaded a cousin of Searc, a youth named Cathal, to undertake the troscud on behalf of the blood kindred.’

‘So what happened?’

‘An evil sleight of hand, so far as I could see, and this is why I came to hate Ultán so much.’

‘You’d best explain.’

‘Cathal and his brehon went to a small chapel within sight of the walls of Cill Ria. The notices were given and the fast began. You will correct me on the law, Fidelma, but I have been told that if the plaintiff, that is Cathal, persists in his fast even though the defendant, Ultán, has offered to settle the case, the case automatically lapses. The defendant is exonerated and no further action can be taken.’

Fidelma looked thoughtful. “This is true. But are you saying that Ultán offered to settle the matter and this was refused by Cathal who continued the ritual fast?’

Abbot Augaire leaned forward. ‘What I am saying is that was how it was represented.’

‘But the witnesses? There have to been witnesses to the offer and its refusal?’

Abbot Augaire shrugged. ‘Oh yes. The brehon of Ulaidh had been invited to Cill Ria. Ultán said he would pay compensation as a token of goodwill to Muirchertach and his wife even though he still felt he was not responsible. The brehon of Ulaidh agreed that this was a noble thing. So the offer was inscribed on hazel wands and given to Brother Drón to take to the chapel where Cathal was fasting. What happened then is a matter of argument.’

‘What happened according to Cathal and his brehon?’

‘Cathal said that Drón had not come to the chapel. Three days later, as was the required time, the brehon of Ulaidh and Brother Drđn came to the chapel and found Cathal still engaged in his troscud and denounced him, claiming that he had refused to give up his ritual fast even when compensation was offered. Therefore, according to law, he no longer had a claim.

‘Cathal protested that no one had come to him with this offer. Then Brother Drón came forward and swore that he had done so. He said that he had found Cathal alone, and pressed the offer into his hands.’

‘What did Cathal’s brehon say?’ queried Fidelma. ‘As witness, he could not leave the one engaged in the troscud alone so he must have seen what happened.’

‘Under fierce questioning from Brother Drón it was discovered that at dusk on the day Drón claimed to have delivered the offer, the brehon had been persuaded to go to the aid of a girl who had come tearfully to the chapel pleading for help with a sick mother who had collapsed. There was, of course, no sick mother and the girl had disappeared. I suspect it was one of the females at Cill Ria.’

‘That in itself could have been legally challenged as an enticement to pervert the law.’

‘True, but the brehon of Ulaidh — again it seems prompted by Drón — caused the chapel to be searched. .’

‘And the hazel wands were found in Cathal’s belongings?’ guessed Fidelma.

‘Just so.’

Eadulf, who had been quiet for some time, snorted. ‘It is possible that Brother Drón came that day, waited until Cathal’s witness was lured elsewhere, then placed the hazel wands in the chapel and disappeared back to his master with this tale of having delivered the notice. But how can one prove it?’

Abbot Augaire nodded. ‘That is how I would see it. Moreover, I am sure that it was at the specific behest of Ultán, who was not going to pay compensation in any form.’

‘And Cathal? Did he challenge this?’

‘There was no evidence against Drón or Ultán. The girl could not be found. Ultán