‘It’s wonderful to have the skill to make this,’ said Malachy, joining them and examining the bishop. ‘So this is my lord bishop of Kilfenora,’ he mused with a smile, balancing the little figure in his palm.
‘Poor Cuan,’ said Nuala changing the subject suddenly. ‘Father, what do you think is wrong with his hand? I felt it, and I could feel the tendons all bunched up inside the palm.’
‘He was probably born with it,’ said Malachy thoughtfully. ‘I’ve seen such things.’
‘Could it be cut open?’
‘Nuala’s mind is still dwelling on surgery,’ said Mara looking at her with an affectionate smile.
‘Not something I’d like to undertake,’ said Malachy firmly. ‘However, I suppose it would be possible. It might work, though I don’t suppose that the hand would be too strong afterwards. Still I have seen a tendon sliced open after an accident with a flail and it healed up eventually. However, I would think – not that I know much about it – that the surgery might have had to be performed when he was a child.’
‘Well, the lad is rich enough to get the best surgeons in Ireland, now,’ said Turlough. ‘That’s true, isn’t it, Mara? He’s immensely rich, isn’t he?’
‘If there is no will, and it begins to look as if there is no will, then Cuan will get at least two-thirds of his father’s wealth,’ said Mara reluctantly, after a minute. She disliked talking about legal matters in public, but there was no harm in it, she supposed. The whole kingdom of the Burren was probably discussing Cuan and his mother and sister by now, especially after Muiris’s evidence against Rory at Poulnabrone. She was still considering the matter when the door reopened.
‘Well, that’s two young men departed,’ said Toin as he came back in.
‘Where has Rory gone?’ asked Nuala.
‘I advised him to go back to his own house at Dooneyvardan,’ said Toin firmly. ‘I don’t think that Newtown Castle is the place for him at the moment. I put a bit of pressure on him. He’ll be back tomorrow and in a more reasonable mood and then I can talk properly to him and get him to apologize to Cuan.’ He cast a glance up at the top of the cupboard where Mara had placed the zither, before adding lightly, ‘What is the old story about the poet who sang a satirical verse about the river that refused to yield a salmon and the river rose up and threatened to drown the poet? He quickly sang a song of praise and then the river returned to its normal bed. If Rory praises Cuan and asks his pardon all this will blow over.’
‘Has Cuan gone back to Newtown Castle?’ asked Daire. ‘If he has then I might rush and try to catch up with him. It would be easier for him if we came in together.’
Toin shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think that he has. I had a word with Tomas and he told me that the stableman saw Cuan going up the path to the mountain. No, Cuan has probably gone back to his farm.’
‘He’ll cool down better there,’ said Nuala wisely. ‘He was mad with rage. I could feel him shake all over.’
‘Shame for this to happen,’ said Daire thoughtfully. ‘It’s not right to say it perhaps, but now with Sorley dead, all his troubles should be over. In fact …’
He stopped and said no more and soon afterwards made his farewells and left without finishing his sentence.
Mara knew what he was about to say and she finished it for him in her mind. With Sorley dead, most people’s troubles are over.
FIFTEEN
BRETHA NEMED DÉIDENACH (LAST LAWS OIQ THE PRIVILEGES OF PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE)
Heptad 33
There are seven kinds of satire:
1. Wrongfully accusing someone of a crime
2. Making public an untrue story
3. Masking sport of a man’s appearance
4. Ridiculing a defect or deformity
5. Devising an insulting nickname
6. Teasing or taunting beyond the norm
7. Being the author of a song that satirizes
The penalty for unjust satire or mockery is a sum equivalent to a person’s honour price.
‘HAS EVERYONE COPIED Down the laws of satire asked Mara, as, damp sponge in hand, she prepared to wipe the lime-washed board on the wall clear of the charcoal words.
‘Just doing the last one,’ said Hugh.
‘This means that when Enda calls me a birdbrain then he has to pay me a fine,’ said Moylan triumphantly.
‘What is your honour price?’ queried Enda with a superior air.
Moylan hesitated and looked at Mara for help.
‘You don’t know,’ said Enda triumphantly. ‘That’s because you don’t have one – you’re under seventeen.’
‘What would Cuan’s honour price be, Brehon?’ asked Fachtnan, ever the peacemaker.
‘I’m not sure myself, Fachtnan,’ confessed Mara. She glanced around at the eager, lively faces and said gently, ‘there is no necessity to remind you all of the oath you swore at Michaelmas to preserve silence about any matter discussed here at the law school, is there?’
Emphatic nods greeted these words; she tried not to remind them too often of this point, as she liked them to feel that she trusted them. However, in this case when they were discussing Rory, who had been a close companion of the older boys, she felt the reminder was necessary.
‘You see,’ she went on, ‘last night, when Rory sang that offensive song and when he shouted out these public accusations that Cuan murdered his father, I was considering this matter. First I thought that Cuan might be classified as an ócaire, since he has twenty acres of land, but now I think that cannot be right. After all, if he is his father’s heir, he is one of the richest men in the kingdom.’
‘Surely he will have the same honour price as Sorley?’ Fachtnan sounded puzzled. ‘And you said at Poulnabrone that Sorley’s honour price was seven séts.’
‘Yes, but you see,’ said Mara rapidly, ‘Sorley was a qualified silversmith – that determined his honour price; Cuan, poor lad, is qualified for nothing.’
‘Strange, isn’t it, Brehon?’ Enda’s active brain was working on the problem. ‘Why do you think that there is no provision in the law for a man who is rich just because of inheritance?’
‘I think it is because these laws are so old, Enda. They probably mostly date from over a thousand years; we know that they were in place when Saint Patrick came from Ireland. One of the first things that he did, apparently, was to review them and to reject those that he disliked, like the law of a fine, instead of a death, for murder.’ It didn’t do much good, she thought triumphantly. Here we are, more than a thousand years later and the Brehon law still rules in most of Ireland.
And then, because she was always careful never to criticize the Church in front of the boys, she hastened to divert their minds.
‘I think that there is much work to do to update these laws; for instance, my own son-in-law, Oisín, in Galway, is a trader; he buys goods such as skins, Irish mantles, even silver; takes them to other countries, sells them, buys other goods in those countries, brings these goods back to Ireland and sells them in Galway, or even in Thomond. He makes a good living out of this, but there is nothing in Brehon law about a trader so he has no honour price.’
‘He’d better stay in Galway, then,’ said Shane looking aghast.
‘But isn’t Cuan now the owner of the silver mine?’ asked Aidan. ‘What’s the honour price for a mine owner?’
‘The nearest that I can find is the honour price for a mill owner,’ said Mara. ‘I suppose that if I were to have to judge a case where Cuan was involved then I would take that as my example and give him an honour price of seven séts. I would then tell as many other Brehons as I could of my decision and see what they think. Last summer King Turlough organized a meeting of the Brehons of the three kingdoms of Thomond, Corcomroe and Burren, to discuss these matters and we are hoping that next summer we will be able to include Brehons from other parts of Ireland – Cormac from Kinvarra will come, I’m sure, and his father from Cork. Perhaps your father will also come, Shane, although it is a
long journey from Dungannon in the north.’
‘About the murder,’ said Aidan getting bored with the theoretical discussion, ‘can we make a list of possibilities, Brehon? May I write them on the wall?’
‘If you do it in your very best handwriting.’ Mara tried to inject a note of severity into her voice, but Aidan was like an over-enthusiastic young puppy; it was hard to make him take any of his shortcomings seriously. He jumped up with a quick glance of triumph at Moylan, seized the long charred stick and wrote SUSPECTS in large letters on the whitewashed board on the wall. It was so beautifully written with a sweeping tail to the letter S that Mara, though she was worried about having a list of names under that heading, did not have the heart to tell him to rub it out. She cast a quick glance at the doorway. It was raining heavily so it was fairly unlikely that anyone would visit; in any case, Bran was now lying up against the door so no one could get in without a few minutes’ delay and she could quickly wash the words off with the damp sponge lying in its bowl of water on the windowsill.
‘Let’s do them in alphabetical order,’ suggested Enda. ‘Otherwise people might be prejudiced by the name at the top of the list.’
‘Good idea,’ said Mara.
‘I think,’ said Fachtnan, hesitating a little, ‘that we might have to put Anluan at the top of the list.’
‘No,’ said Moylan indignantly. ‘He couldn’t. He hasn’t got the strength of a fly.’
‘He’s strong enough to poke a stick through the hole,’ said Shane. ‘But I agree that he is not very likely.’
‘Let’s give them points.’ Enda, as usual, was bursting with ideas. ‘Each reason to murder Sorley will be worth a point. Now who can name a reason for Anluan to murder?’
‘Revenge for the lack of safety at the mine and no compensation for his terrible injuries,’ said Shane.
‘One point,’ said Aidan, slashing down a stroke on the wall.
‘Had a stick handy.’ Hugh looked pleased with himself.
‘Two points,’ said Aidan, adding another stroke.
‘Let’s have minus points,’ said Fachtnan. ‘And I think I have one for Anluan; I think he is so afraid of pain that he would not risk being stung by a bee. Do you remember how he screamed when he thought Bran might hurt him? That’s one minus point; the other is that he didn’t know Sorley would swell up and perhaps die from a bee sting, so that’s two. And that leaves Anluan in the clear.’
‘Shall I wipe his name?’ Aidan looked around, all heads were nodding.
‘And Cathal the sea captain was cleared by Toin.’ Mara thought back to her interview. Yes, Toin had been quite certain.
‘Then the next must be Cuan,’ said Moylan, ‘I can’t think of anyone beginning with the letter B.’
Aidan wrote the word Cuan carefully and then looked around.
‘Point one: he inherits his father’s goods,’ said Moylan rapidly.
‘Point two: he probably hates his father,’ added Hugh.
‘Point three: he would know that Sorley swelled up after a bee sting,’ said Shane.
‘Point four: we know, from Rory, that he was there near to his father just before the murder.’ Enda was triumphant. The line of strokes was looking impressive.
‘Any minus points?’ Mara looked around at her scholars.
‘This isn’t any point of law, or factual point,’ said Fachtnan hesitating a little, ‘but I just think, from what I’ve seen of him and from what you’ve told us, Brehon, that Cuan is just too gutless to do a thing like that. After all, whoever murdered Sorley that day, he or she had to act very fast and not care about the consequences. If Sorley had not been killed, had not even been stung, he would have seen what had happened and would have been very angry. I don’t think that Cuan would have risked that.’
‘What does everyone else think?’ Mara turned to look at her scholars. The younger ones were looking unsure, but Enda nodded vigorously.
‘That’s worth a minus four mark,’ he said. ‘Especially when you think that the crime would have been fingal since it was his own father who was murdered; Cuan would not want to have been put out to sea in a boat without oars, to die or live out his life in banishment from the kingdom.’
‘Possibly.’ Mara looked dubious. ‘It’s a very good point, Fachtnan, and you made it very well. However, sometimes a boy like Cuan, who has always been abused and denied affection, can be pushed beyond the bounds of reason. Let’s give him minus two and that leaves him on the list.’
‘Deirdre is next,’ said Moylan. ‘I vote we give her a point as she has now got back to the castle and the life as a rich lady.’
‘I agree,’ said Aidan writing the name quickly and then putting a stroke beside it.
‘I disagree,’ said Shane calmly. ‘She couldn’t have known that the Brehon would have taken her part. I vote we give a minus for lack of knowledge of the future.’
No one argued with that and Mara said nothing. Of course, Toin had cleared Deirdre as well as Cathal, but Cathal had not noticed Deirdre. It would be difficult to say who was right. Personally she thought that a clever, self-contained woman like Deirdre was unlikely to have taken a chance like that. This murder was a quick-thinking, but very reckless act.
‘Rory must be next,’ said Hugh who had been counting the alphabet on his fingers and muttering under his breath.
‘Well, one big fat point for all the silver and goods that he was going to get his hands on when he married Una,’ said Enda with emphasis.
‘And another for the fact that the betrothal document stated, according to him, that it was not a union of man upon woman’s property, according to Brehon law, but a union according to English law where the man has complete control of the woman’s property.’ Mara looked around. Every head was nodding solemnly; they all saw her point.
‘And he was last into the church,’ she continued. ‘All the evidence points to that. Of course, according to himself he came from a different direction, but I only have his word for that.’
‘Four points for Rory; so he’s our front-runner,’ said Aidan.
‘But couldn’t he have had everything without murdering Sorley?’ Morley asked.
‘He might have had to wait a long time for it, and Sorley might have given him very little for himself once they were married. Sorley sounds like the sort of man who would have enjoyed keeping Rory at his beck and call.’ Enda, as usual, passed judgement shrewdly.
‘And there was another suitor.’ Briefly Mara told them about Ulick and the dazzling prospect that he had held out to Sorley.
‘So Sorley might have been the father of a countess.’ Enda gave a long low whistle, while the other boys tried to look impressed, though Mara suspected that none of them actually knew what a countess was.
‘And the grandfather of an earl if Ulick died,’ added Enda. ‘Well, that certainly is worth another point. Rory might have seen Sorley’s riches vanishing out of his sight unless he moved quickly.’
‘Any minus points?’ Mara looked around at the eager faces.
They all thought about this very carefully, she was glad to notice. This was an important part of their training: the ability to weigh the facts and to decide without reference to claims of either friendship or affection was essential for any qualified Brehon.
‘None,’ said Fachtnan solemnly and they all echoed the word.
‘What about Una?’ asked Hugh after a minute.
‘She believed that she was going to inherit. That must be worth one point,’ said Aidan, looking at his friends enquiringly and then putting a stroke beside the name when he received a few nods.
‘Yes, but if she had to marry Rory then she would not have had control over her possessions, if it were a union of equality,’ said Hugh. ‘I vote a minus point for that.’
‘But she didn’t have to marry him, once Sorley was safely dead; she could always have said no.’ Enda was emphatic and as usual everyone nodded agreement.
‘Or burned the agreement.’ Mara smiled. Una m
ight not be very likeable, but she had plenty of guts, as the boys would say.
‘But she would have risked fingal as well as Cuan. I vote a minus for that. Everyone agree?’ Aidan added the minus after a cursory glance around.
‘Also, I’m sure she was there in church with her maid quite early on.’ Mara nodded as Aidan went along the names, crossing out most.
‘So now we are really left with Cuan or Rory as possible murderers,’ remarked Enda.
‘Points are all very well, but they don’t tell you everything.’ Fachtnan looked thoughtfully at the list and tugged his curly brown hair.
‘There’s one name that we haven’t put down,’ said Shane, his black eyes sparkling with fun. ‘I’ll spell it for you, Aidan. It’s UNKNOWN.’
‘Someone who hates Sorley,’ said Moylan in a rush. He, as well as the others, had been looking at the names with an air of disappointment and dissatisfaction.
‘Someone who was in his debt.’
‘Someone from his past.’
‘Someone whom he had cheated.’
‘Someone who was mad with rage.’
‘The hunt is on, lads,’ said Enda grimly. ‘No one can get away with a secret and unlawful killing in our kingdom of the Burren.’
SIXTEEN
BRETH=A COMAITHCHESA (JUDGEMENTS OF NEIGHBOURHOODS)
Every neighbourhood bas a duty to its members. In the case of a disaster:
1. By fire
2. By flood
3. By going astray neighbour must come to the assistance of neighbour.
‘CUMHAL, IF YOU ARE sending a man to Drumcreehy Bay for the fish could he carry a message to Cathal the sea captain to come and see me?’ asked Mara.
‘Fish,’ exclaimed Aidan with disgust.
‘It will do you good,’ said Mara bracingly. She was not too keen on fish herself, but the priest at Noughaval, after a recent visit from the bishop of Kilfenora, had become very emphatic on the observation of the Friday fast and Mara felt that the law school should set a good example.
The Sting of Justice Page 21
