Firbis blinked and paused a moment before responding.
“The casket is kept in a place of honor in the main feasting hall, on a stand behind the King’s seat. She claimed that they were out of sight of it for nearly an hour.”
“So anyone might have entered the hall and taken it.” Fidelma pouted. “It seems a very weak case against the girl, indeed. Who was this lover? Will he confirm what she says?”
Firbis smiled thinly.
“I hardly think so.”
“Why so?”
“He fled after the girl was accused.”
“Fled?”
“He was from the lands of Calraige.”
Fidelma was frowning now.
“But that is in the land of. .”
Firbis interrupted her with a thin smile.
“Exactly so, in the lands of the Uí Ailello, the deadly foes of the kings of Tethbae.”
“Are you trying to say that she and the lover collaborated in this theft?” mused Fidelma. “If so, then you are proposing a motive which you should have made clear when I questioned you earlier about it.”
There was irritation in her voice.
Firbis blinked at the belligerent tone.
Brehon Morann’s brows drew together.
“May I remind you that you are addressing a Druimcli?” he said icily.
“And I remind you,” added Firbis, sourly,“that it is not my task to feed you all the answers to this conundrum.”
Fidelma turned to Brehon Morann.
“I do not mean to sound disrespectful but this is an example of what I meant when I said that the case could not be judged on the facts initially given by the Druimcli. The introduction of this nameless lover into the story is an integral part of the evidence. . ”
“The Brehon in this case did not think so,” interrupted Firbis, “other than to reflect that it simply supported the guilt of the girl. It was clear to him that they colluded in this theft and that both meant to flee to the sanctuary of the lands of the Uí Ailello where the Chief of the clan would have lavished a reward on them for bringing the skull.”
Fidelma shook her head.
“It is a weak story.”
Firbis looked taken aback and the Brehon Morann leaned forward in his seat. He was smiling gently.
“You seem to take issue with all the facts, Fidelma.”
“Consider these facts,” replied Fidelma with a shrug.
“A servant girl is left alone in the king’s hall. She has a lover who is a member of a clan that comprises the most deadly foes of the King of Tethbae and his people. Left alone in the hall, the girl is working when her lover comes by. They claim to make love for an hour. Then they take the skull in its casket and hide it under the girl’s bed in the servants’ quarters. The lover then departs. The people return, find the skull and casket missing. It is then found under the girl’s bed and the lover has fled back to his people.” She paused. “It is an improbable story. I’d say it is almost nonsense.”
Druimcli Firbis’s lips thinned.
“Are you saying that the Brehon in this case could not differentiate what was nonsense and what was fact?”
“It seems so,” Fidelma responded with seriousness.
Druimcli Firbis was now smiling cynically.
“So, are you saying, finally, that it is a matter of a false judgment?”
“False enough, if the Brehon involved judged this matter merely on this evidence alone.”
“Very well, Fidelma,” Firbis said, sitting back slightly.
“We will continue with the facts. The dálaigh, the advocate of the king, argued that the intention of Sochla and her lover was to flee with the casket immediately. But they dallied and in their dalliance did not realize that time had passed. They heard the people returning and all they could do was hide the casket under the bed and the lover left, waiting in the vicinity to see what happened. When he realized that Sochla was caught, he then fled leaving her to face punishment alone.”
“And what did the girl’s dálaigh, her advocate, say in rebuttal?”
“She did not have an advocate.”
“Who pled for the girl?”
“The Brehon did so.”
Fidelma gazed at Firbis’s bland expression with amazement.
“A Brehon must be unbiased,” she said slowly.
“Just so,” agreed Firbis, “and is therefore allowed to enter a case to plead for the accused. .”
“But only if the accused or witness is incapable of representing or speaking for themselves. You have already told me that Sochla was intelligent, in no way retarded. Why wasn’t she allowed to speak for herself or instruct a dálaigh?”
Brehon Morann stirred.
“Is it your claim that the Brehon acted improperly?”
“It would seem that the rights of the accused were infringed,” replied Fidelma, choosing her words carefully.
Firbis snorted derisively.
“Infringed? No Brehon of Ardagh would. .” He hesitated and then asked: “What of the rights of the King?”
“The law is stronger than a king. It is an old saying,” replied Fidelma calmly.
“The Brehon, from what you have told me, so far seems biased in the extreme.”
Firbis’s mouth tightened a little.
“You are talking of a respected Brehon who holds more qualifications in legal affairs than you will ever attain.”
Fidelma’s irritations boiled over.
“As well as being a Druimcli I presume that you are also a prophet or have the gift of clairvoyance?” Her voice was ice cold.
Firbis’s brows came together.
“Do you mean to insult me?” His tone was equally studied.
“Insult? Not at all. I merely seek information. You have said that I will never attain the qualifications that this unnamed Brehon holds or held. To make such a statement one needs firstly to know exactly what qualifications the unnamed Brehon held and also to know the future as to what qualifications I am likely to attain to. Being interested in my future, I wondered how this could be. With due respect, I merely asked you the basis of your prognostication-whether you were a prophet or held the gift of clairvoyance? What insult is there in that?”
There was a sound from Brehon Morann.
Behind a hand that covered the lower part of his mouth he appeared to be stifling a laugh.
The Druimcli seemed to make a conscious effort to control his features.
“Fidelma.” Brehon Morann, having controlled his amusement, spoke softly.
“Fidelma, I think on reflection you will find that the Druimcli was speaking figuratively.”
“I think he was also speaking without due regard to the law,” replied Fidelma, unappeased by the explanation.
This time Firbis kept his lips pressed tight.
“Explain yourself,” Morann said quietly. It was a dangerous tone.
“Simply, that the law holds everyone to account. Because someone is a Brehon does not exclude them from criticism any more than it allows a Druimcli to insult a student who has not yet attained to the degree of Dos.”
There was coldness in the room.
Suddenly, Druimcli Firbis seemed to relax and actually smile. It was a thin, wan smile but a smile nevertheless.
“You are right, young woman. It was wrong of me to make such a personal outburst. A Brehon is not above examination and where error has occurred he is not beyond correction and fine. Nor should I have implied that you do not have the right to express your opinion of any error because you have not yet graduated.”
Fidelma bowed her head slightly.
“Indeed, isn’t the reason that we are discussing this matter to see whether the unnamed Brehon in question gave a false judgment or a true judgment?’ she asked.
Brehon Morann smiled softly.
“That is precisely what we are here for. Have you reached any conclusion?”
“My conclusion, so far, is the verdict is still unsafe. What witnesses were c
alled by the king’s dálaigh?”
“The king’s steward, for one,” replied Firbis.
“What was his name and the effect of his testimony?”
“His name?” Firbis hesitated then said. “Feranaim. He deposed that Sochla had been employed as a menial worker in the king’s hall. That he had seen her at work when the household left to attend the game and most importantly he had seen the casket in its usual place.”
“He was the last to leave the hall?”
“That is so,” replied Firbis hastily.
“How did you know?” Fidelma did not reply directly. She continued: “And was he the person who spotted the casket missing on the return from the game?”
The Druimcli shook his head.
“No, in fact it was the King himself who spotted that the casket was not in its usual place. The steward was sent for and. .”
“The steward was sent for?” Fidelma asked quickly. “Where was he when everyone returned from the game?”
“In his quarters. The steward has a house near the king’s hall.”
“But surely, the steward would know that his presence would be needed in the hall with the return of the King and his retinue?”
“He probably did not know they had returned,” Firbis assured her.
She smiled quickly.
“He did not know they had returned? Why not, if he had returned with them?”
Firbis regarded her with a bland expression and did not respond.
“The evidence was that the household went to the game leaving only Sochla in the king’s hall,” Fidelma pointed out.
“That is so. She was left in the king’s hall.”
“But the steward, the man called Feranaim, obviously did not go to the game and was in the vicinity of the royal complex?”
Neither Firbis nor Morann answered.
She stood thinking a moment.
“Did the Brehon pick up on this point?”
Druimcli Firbis shrugged.
“Was there any need to?”
“I would say there was great need.”
“Why?”
“Because it is evidence that challenges the whole case. Not only does it show that Sochla was not the only person in the vicinity of the casket, nor, as we have found, was her lover the only other person there, but now we have the high steward in the vicinity of the hall. What if Sochla was right? What if her lover and she had been otherwise engaged, and the high steward had slipped into the hall and removed the casket, later hiding it under Sochla’s bed for reasons we do not know of?”
“There are a many ‘what ifs’ here, Fidelma. With an ‘if’ you might place all Tara in a bottle.”
“Questions and probabilities are what this case is all about.” Fidelma was not dissuaded. “Were any questions put to this high steward called Feranaim about his background?”
“None directly,” confirmed Firbis.
“What does that mean?”
“That no direct question was put to the steward.” snapped back Firbis.
Fidelma thought for a moment.
“And was Sochla questioned on her relationship with Feranaim?”
“Her relationship?”
“Was she friendly with the steward?”
Firbis shook his head.
Something prompted Fidelma to press him.
“Did she volunteer any statement at all about Feranaim?”
“The Brehon deemed her statement about Feranaim inadmissible.”
“But what was that statement?”
“She claimed that Feranaim had attempted to seduce her and that she had rejected him. She claimed, because of this, that he held a hatred for her.”
Fidelma’s intake of breath was sharp.
“It now seems that the motive and opportunity are not all one-sided matters,” she said coldly. “Others might have motive and opportunity as well. On what ground did the Brehon rule this information inadmissible?”
The Druimcli shifted his position.
“The Brehon cited the law text the Berrad Airechta. I suppose you are acquainted with it?”
“It contains the text of the categories of evidence that are inadmissible,” replied Fidelma with confidence. “If my memory serves me correctly, there are nine major exclusions and four special exclusions. As I recall, evidence may be excluded if it comes from someone known to have been bribed, someone who has a relationship with the person they give evidence against, and someone known to hate the person. .”
Firbis held up his hand.
“You give us little doubt that you know the law in this respect, Fidelma. The Brehon excluded the evidence on the grounds that Sochla knew and hated Feranaim and thus the evidence was invalid. .”
“That was a wrong decision.”
“Why?” snapped Firbis.
“Because it would not apply to Sochla, being the accused. Her evidence in rebutting the accusations against her is not inadmissible. In this respect, I believe the Brehon was unjust. He should have included this evidence.”
Fidelma used the legal term gúach whose connotation meant that the injustice arose not from error but bias.
Firbis sat quietly examining her for a moment or two.
“Then you have decided that there was a false judgment here?”
Fidelma did not reply for the moment, then she said quietly: “An injustice in dismissing evidence does not necessarily imply that the overall judgment of the case was wrong or false within the definition by which a blemish might arise on the character of the Brehon. Were I to press forward, would there be any more revelations to come forth?”
The question was suddenly sharp and directed to the Druimcli.
Brehon Morann coughed, suddenly restive.
“There are several other students to be examined this day, Fidelma. I believe you have taken up enough of our time.”
The Brehon’s face was stern again, his brows drawn together in disapproval.
“Then you wish a judgment from me?” Fidelma said quietly, her head bowed. “Yet I do not feel that I have been given sufficient time nor all the facts in this case.”
Brehon Morann gave a soft sigh, a quiet hiss of breath that seemed to indicate his displeasure.
“Fidelma, today was the appointed day for your final examination in this series. The result of this day will determine whether you achieve the degree of Dos, the minimum graduate degree. Those that pass this degree can continue their studies, and should they pass six to eight more years of study here, then the accolade of ollamh might await them at which they could sit with the High King himself and speak a judgment even before he speaks. But the person who has the quickest hand, let them have the white hound and the deer in the hunt. So let me remind you of certain facts.”
Brehon Morann paused, his eyes piercing upon her.
“Certain facts?” murmured Fidelma, trying to concentrate.
“Knowing these things, you came late to your examination. Did you not attempt to make an excuse for doing so?”
Fidelma hesitated for a fraction of a second and then said: “There was no excuse.”
“You came here and instead of responding to a direct question, you began to question a Druimcli, someone who has achieved the seventh and highest grade of wisdom and your questions have been. . severe and condemning in tone. Let us put it this way, Fidelma, you have not set out to win our approval and yet the decision whether you obtain the degree of Dos lies in our hands.”
Fidelma flushed.
“I did not think that obtaining a degree lay with attempts to win approval from anyone. I thought it depended on an assessment of my knowledge of law,” she said quietly.
“Of law and your ability to apply it. Do you feel that you have displayed the knowledge that is relevant to judge the question that has been put before you?” Morann replied, his tone not changing.
“A very wise judge once told me that one should not give their judgment on hearing the first person’s story but to wait until one has heard the o
ther side.”
Brehon Morann, in spite of his gravity, looked amused.
“Are you now trying to win my approbation by quoting me?”
“Not at all. What is true is true no matter whose mouth gives it utterance.”
“So you are saying that you cannot make a judgment?” intervened the Druimcli.
Fidelma turned to him and shook her head.
“I cannot make a judgment on the particular case that I have heard but I can make a decision on the judgment given by the Brehon in that case.”
Druimcli Firbis sat back with a half smile and made a gesture of invitation with one hand.
“You have a choice-the choice between firbrith or true judgment or cilbrith or false judgment.’
Firbis put the choice in the correct legal terms.
“I say that the judgment given by the Brehon in this case was cilbrith-a false judgment. I also believe, Druimcli, that the blemish rests on you; that you were the Brehon in this case.”
Firbis’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
“Why do you say this?”
“Because you seem to have an extraordinary knowledge of why the judge did certain things in this case. I also take into account the manner in which you selected the evidence, always in the judge’s favor, to present to me. You frequently showed how protective you were of the Brehon. That is, as I say, because I believe that you were the Brehon.”
Druimcli Firbis smiled.
“Belief is not evidence.”
“No. But you are a Druimcli at Ardagh, which is the principal town of Tethbae where you said this case took place. In your haste to defend the Brehon in this case you also mentioned that he came from Ardagh. There is one conclusion to all these things. You spoke with the authority of the Brehon involved in the case and therefore you were the Brehon.”
Firbis’s expression was, curiously, one of approval.
Brehon Morann was smiling with equal accord.
“Well, Fidelma. .”
“There is one thing more,” Fidelma interrupted.
Morann hesitated and raised an eyebrow in query.
“Something more?”
Fidelma nodded.
“This entire case was a fiction. It never happened. The reason why Firbis spoke with the authority of the Brehon in the case was because he invented the whole story and developed it as we went along as a means of testing me. No one of Firbis’s attainment would have acted in the way this Brehon would have done and yet, it was clear, that the Brehon involved was none other than Firbis. What was I to make of that? Feranaim, indeed! They very word means ‘Man without a name’! This was a test. Therefore, I concluded that Firbis invented the story to test the student.”
Whispers of the Dead sf-15 Page 9
