Chalice of Blood

presentation of the case.

Brehon Aillín glanced at Fidelma and then stood up. He raised his staff of office and banged it on the floor three times.

‘At this court we are here primarily to attempt to discover cause and responsibility for the death of Brother Donnchad. However, there are other matters that we must consider. The raids on the Fir Maige Féne and death of Dubhagan of the tech-screptra at Fhear Maighe. We shall also attempt to discover cause and responsibility for the death of the master builder Glassán.’

There was a ripple of subdued but surprised voices. Most knew only that Brother Donnchad’s death had been under investigation, while Glassán’s death had been thought an accident. As for raids and the death of Dubhagan, little gossip had infiltrated the abbey.

Brother Lugna immediately rose, protesting. ‘Are these notseparate matters? How are they to be heard all at once? Sister Fidelma’s only responsibility is to tell us who killed Brother Donnchad.’

Brehon Aillín regarded him with disapproval. ‘This is now a court of law and I have proclaimed the matters it will consider. Fidelma of Cashel, will you proceed?’ he added solemnly.

‘I shall.’ Fidelma bowed her head towards the Brehon, as protocol demanded, before turning to face the assembly.

‘We shall deal first with the murder of Glassán. For that is a separate matter.’

When the astonished murmur died down, Fidelma raised her voice a little. ‘Yes, it was murder even though it was made to look like an accident. Glassán was bludgeoned from behind with a blackthorn stick, dragged to the wall and the scene made to look as if one of the stones from the wall had become loose and fallen on him. This murder had long been in the planning.’

She held the audience’s attention completely now.

‘Sometimes,’ she continued, ‘when one has been so long investigating murders, one becomes too used to looking for the complicated and the unexpected. With the killing of Glassán we were, in fact, dealing with the obvious but thought we were looking for something deeper, more complicated and not so obvious; something that we thought would link up with the murder of Brother Donnchad. We nearly missed what was staring us in the face.’

‘And that was?’ prompted Brother Lugna, unable to restrain himself.

Brehon Aillín rapped on the table and snapped, ‘There are to be no interruptions. I have already pointed out that this is now a court of law and protocol is to be followed.’

‘I shall respond to the steward, with your approval,’ Fidelma replied mildly. ‘This was an act of vengeance, part of a blood feud.’

Fidelma waited for the hall to grow silent again before continuing.

‘The most serious offence in any society is for one person to deprive another of their life. I have travelled in many lands and found that the laws governing what punishment should be given varies.’

Once again, Brother Lugna was on his feet.

‘In Rome it is considered that the execution of the offender is the only just punishment. Among many members of our Faith beyond the seas, this punishment is supported because this is the justice that Faith proclaims. Is it not written in the ancient texts that life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth shall be the punishment? Even if death is caused by negligence, death must be returned as retribution.’

Brehon Aillín had reached for his staff of office, anger on his brow, but Fidelma held up her hand.

‘I will respond, with your permission. Let us make allowance for the fact that Brother Lugna has been so long in Rome that he has forgotten how our courts of law are conducted. We do not believe that the teaching that you have cited is compatible with the Faith, for did not Christ tell us to ignore it? Perhaps, Brehon Aillín, you would allow Brother Eadulf, who has also studied in Rome, to remind us of Christ’s teaching?’

At a nod from the Brehon, Eadulf rose. ‘It is to be found in the Gospel according to Matthew: audistis quia dictum est oculum pro oculo et dentem pro dente … ego autem dico vobis non resistere malo sed si te percusserit in dextera maxilla tua praebe illi et alteram.’

‘You have heard that it has been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you …’ She stopped translating. ‘I am sure that Brother Lugna knows the passage, as do we all. I rejoice that we live under more enlightened laws,though some would have us adopt the Penitentials of Rome where we must cut off the hand that steals, blind the eye that is covetous, kill the person who is responsible for the death of another directly or indirectly.’

Brother Lugna was looking outraged. He exchanged a glance with the grim-faced Lady Eithne.

‘The basis of our law,’ went on Fidelma, unperturbed, ‘is that we allow someone who has transgressed to atone for his crime, even if they have caused the death of another. Moreover, our law says that as well as being given the opportunity for rehabilitation in our society, compensation must be given to the victim or the relatives of the victim. What use is the dead body of the killer to a wife left without a husband, a child left without a mother or a father? Vengeance has but momentary satisfaction. Only in extreme circumstances, where a killer is shown to be incorrigible, unrepentant and unwilling to provide the compensation and pay the fines required by law, do we say they should be placed in the arms of fate, that they should be cast adrift in a boat without sail or oar and with food or water for one day. Their fate is left up to the winds and the waves.

‘Perhaps some of you have heard the story of Mac Cuill, the son of the hazel, who was a thief and killer in the Kingdom of Ulaidh. His crimes were so heinous and he was so unrepentant of them that he was cast adrift on the sea from the coast of Ulaidh in an open boat. After drifting for some time, he was washed close to the shore on the island that is named for the god of the oceans, Mannanán Mac Lir. There were only two members of the Faith on the island at that time but they took him from the sea. He realised that Fate had saved him for a more useful life. He travelled the island with them, preaching the Faith and founding an abbey now named after him, for he is known by the Latin from of his name — the Blessed Maccaldus.He ended his life as abbot and bishop on that island. Is that not a better contribution to life than having his dead, rotting body forgotten?’

She paused and Brehon Aillín took the opportunity to intervene in a mild tone. ‘I am sure that those gathered here do not need to be reminded of the basis of the Law of the Fénechus, Fidelma.’

She turned to him with a quick smile. ‘With due respect, I believe that you will find some who do need reminding. We believe that our native law has more in keeping with Christ’s teaching than those who support the Penitentials from Rome. However, I shall come to that later. I do need to outline the law a little more before I come to the main point. I would like to remind people of the Cáin Sóerraith, that is the law pertaining to all those who have a duty to the ruler of their clan.’

Colgú raised his head in surprise and glanced at Brehon Aillín before asking. ‘What has that to do with the matter in hand?’

‘This law, as some may know, states that a sóerchéile, a free clansman, has a duty to assist the lord of his clan. Whatever art or profession he follows, when his lord calls for help, he must obey on penalty of fines. If his lord wants him to help hunt down horse thieves or wolves, or protect the clan’s territories, the sóerchéile must obey and answer his call. He even has a duty to assist his lord in the prosecution of a blood feud. Is that not so, Saor?’

The assistant master builder jerked nervously and he licked his suddenly dry lips.

‘Do you recognise the law, Saor?’ she pressed.

‘I do,’ he answered after some hesitation.

‘And you thought you were obeying the law?’

Saor was looking confused.

‘Are you saying that it was Saor who killed Glassán?’ intervenedAbbot Iarnla nervously. ‘But he worked for Glassán. Technically, that made Glassán his lord.’

‘Not so,’ Fidelma replied before Brehon Aillín could rebuke the abbot’s intervention. ‘Glassán was not the lord of Saor’s clan. Saor was the sóerchéile, the clansman, called on to prosecute a blood feud. He did help his lord to kill Glassán as he was bound to do by his interpretation of the law. Therefore I have to say that Saor is exonerated from bearing the full blame for this crime of murder.’

Brehon Aillín made to intervene but Fidelma held up her hand. ‘Better if I came to the truth in my own way.’ The Brehon conceded and gestured for her to continue.