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Authors: Peter Tremayne

Tags: #_NB_Fixed, #_rt_yes, #blt, #Clerical Sleuth, #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery, #Medieval Ireland

Act of Mercy (27 page)

BOOK: Act of Mercy
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Fidelma considered his story for a few moments. The situation on
The Barnacle Goose
was getting more than complicated. The mystery of Sister Muirgel’s murder had been bad enough, and then Brother Guss’s claim that Sister Canair had also been murdered before the ship even sailed. Now she was faced with the added complication of Toca Nia’s accusation against Cian.
‘This matter, Cian, is serious. It needs to be brought before the Chief Brehon and the High King’s court. I know little of the law on warfare. A more competent judge is needed to see what must be done. I know there are circumstances in which the killing of people is justified and entails no penalties. It is not against the law to kill in battle – or, indeed, to kill a thief caught in the act of stealing … But the decision is up to a court.’
Cian’s face mirrored his resentment.
‘Are you telling me that you believe the word of Toca Nia against mine?’ he demanded.
‘It is not my place to judge who is telling the truth. Toca Nia makes an accusation and you must answer it. It is an accusation of gravity. It is for your own good, Cian, for Toca Nia knows well that a violator of the law can be killed by anyone and with impunity. He could kill you and claim immunity.’
‘The law does not reach outside of the Five Kingdoms,’ protested Cian.
‘It does not matter. You are on an Irish ship and come under the laws of the Fénechus here just as much as if you stood on the soil of Éireann. You must return to Laigin to make your plea.’
Cian stared at her in disbelief.
‘You cannot do this to me, Fidelma.’
She met his gaze; her eyes were hard.
‘I can,’ she said softly. ‘
Dura lex sed lex
. The law is hard, but it is the law.’
‘And if I were not on this ship, it would not be the law?’
Fidelma answered him with a shrug and turned to leave. She paused at the cabin door.
‘It is up to Murchad as captain to fulfil his obligations under the law. I am afraid that he must judge what is to be done with both Toca Nia and you, whether to let you go or return you both to Eireann for trial. My recommendation will be that he must return you to a Brehon in Laigin.’
‘I was acting on the High King’s orders,’ Cian protested again.
Fidelma stood at the cabin door.
‘That may not be an exoneration. You have a moral responsibility.’
 
Later, when she explained matters to Murchad, the sturdy captain pursed his lips in a soundless whistle.
‘You mean that I must take Cian and Toca Nia back to Éireann?’
‘Or hand them over to another ship to take them back,’ she pointed out.
‘Then let’s hope there is such a ship at Ushant,’ muttered Murchad.
‘In the meantime, Captain, I would suggest that you confine both Cian and Toca Nia to their cabins. We don’t want any more bloodshed on this ship.’
‘That I will do, lady,’ agreed the captain. ‘Let us pray that Father Pol, at Ushant, will have some means of helping me in this matter.’
 
 
The Barnacle Goose
rounded the headland of Ponte de Pern, standing well out to sea, for the rocks and islets were dangerous there. Murchad hardly needed to indicate the dangers for the headland showed the black, jagged pieces of granite poking from the sea like bad teeth, surrounded by yellowing foamy waters. Under Murchad’s guidance they drifted slowly into the long U-shaped bay of Porspaul and headed towards the sheltered anchorage at the far end.
‘It will be good to be on terra firma for a while,’ Fidelma commented thankfully to Murchad.
Murchad pointed to the shore.
‘There are no other ships in the harbour,’ he stated the obvious. ‘The main village and church of Lampaul are above the little quay you see there. I was planning to spend only a day here to take on fresh food and water. The next stage of our journey is going to be the longest, depending on the wind. We’ll be sailing almost straight south, out of sight of land.’
‘But we must consider the matter of Toca Nia,’ Fidelma reminded him.
Murchad looked troubled.
‘I am all for putting Toca Nia and Cian ashore here and leaving them to sort it out between them.’
‘An easy solution … for
us.
But I can foresee complications in that proposal,’ she replied.
The
Barnacle
Goose
tacked its way along the three-kilometre stretch of water to the far end of the inlet, where Fidelma could see a path leading upwards to the settlement of Lampaul. Their approach into the bay had been observed by some local people and several of them had come down to the harbour to greet them.
Murchad shouted for the mainsail to be dropped and then the steering sail. An anchor was heaved from the bow and the ship swung gently at her mooring in calm waters for the first time in the last few days.
‘I shall be going ashore,’ Murchad told Fidelma. ‘Would you like to come with me and meet Father Pol? He is not only the priest here but is more or less the chieftain of the island. It might be best to discuss the matter of Brother Cian and Toca Nia with him.’
Fidelma had indicated her willingness to do so. They were launching the skiff when Brother Tola and the other pilgrims began to emerge on deck. Tola immediately demanded to know if they could go ashore and his companions joined in a chorus of claims.
Murchad silenced them by raising his hands.
‘I must go first and arrange matters. You will be able to go ashore
later and, if you wish, spend a night on shore to get exercise while we gather our stores for the rest of the voyage. But until I have made arrangements, it is best that you all stay aboard.’
It was clear that the arrangement did not make them happy, especially when they saw Fidelma joining the captain to go ashore.
Murchad and Gurvan rowed the small light craft, with Fidelma in the stern, across the short distance from
The Barnacle Goose
to the rock-built quay.
A tall man, dark and sharp-faced, whose clothes and crucifix, hanging from a chain around his neck, proclaimed his profession, greeted Murchad as the captain climbed out of the craft.
‘It is good to see you again, Murchad!’ The man spoke in an accent that showed that the language of the children of the Gael was not his first tongue.
Gurvan had tied up the skiff and helped Fidelma out.
‘It is good to be on your island again, Father Pol,’ Murchad was replying. He motioned to Fidelma who had joined him. ‘Father, this is Fidelma of Cashel, sister to our King, Colgú …’
‘I am Sister Fidelma,’ interrupted Fidelma firmly with a grave smile. ‘I have no other title.’
Father Pol turned and took her hand with a quick scrutiny of her features.
‘Welcome, then, Sister. Welcome,’ he smiled and then turned towards the mate. ‘And you are welcome, too, Gurvan, you rascal. It is good to see you again.’
Gurvan grinned, looking sheepish. It appeared that the entire crew of
The
Barnacle
Goose
were known on the island for it was a frequent port of call.
‘Come, join me in refreshment at Lampaul,’ the priest continued, waving his hand towards the pathway. ‘Do you bring me any interesting news?’
They began to follow him up the path.
‘Bad news, I am afraid, Father. News of the
Morvaout.’
Father Pol halted and turned sharply.
‘The
Morvaout
? She set sail from here only this morning. What news do you bring?’
‘She went to pieces on the rocks north of the island.’
The priest crossed himself.
‘Were there any survivors?’ he asked.
‘Only three men. Two sailors and a passenger who was bound for Laigin. I’ll land the sailors shortly.’
Father Pol appeared sorrowful for a moment.
‘Ah well, this is often the fate of those who sail these seas. The crew were all from the mainland. We will light some candles for the homecoming of their souls.’ He caught sight of Fidelma’s puzzled expression. ‘We are an island people here, Sister,’ he explained. ‘When our people are lost at sea, we set up a little cross and light a candle, and sit up in a vigil all night, praying for the repose of the souls of those lost. The next day, the cross is deposited in a reliquary in the church and then in a mausoleum among the crosses of all who have disappeared at sea. There they will await the homecoming of the souls from the sea.’
They reached the village, a typical seaport settlement spreading around the central structure of a grey, stone-built chapel.
‘There is my little chapel.’ Father Pol indicated the building. ‘Come, we will join in a prayer of thanks for your safe arrival.’
Murchad coughed discreetly.
‘There is something we need to talk to you about most urgently,’ he began.
Father Pol smiled and laid a hand on his arm.
‘Nothing is ever so urgent that a prayer of thanks need not take precedence,’ he observed firmly.
Murchad glanced at Fidelma and then shrugged.
They went into the little chapel and knelt before an altar which surprised Fidelma by its opulence. She had thought that the island was poor but there was gold and silver displayed on the silk-covered altar table.
‘You appear to have a rich community here, Father,’ she whispered.
‘Poor in goods but rich in heart,’ replied the priest indulgently.
‘They donate what they have to God’s house to praise His splendour.
Dominus
optimo maximo
…’
He failed to notice the corners of her mouth turning down in disapproval. She did not approve of idle opulence when people lived in poverty.
Father Pol bent his head and intoned a prayer of in Latin while they echoed the ‘amens’.
Finally he led them to his small house next to the church and offered them pottery cups of cider while Murchad explained the situation about Toca Nia and Cian.
Father Pol rubbed the side of his nose reflectively. It seemed a habit of his.
‘Quid faciendum?’
he asked when Murchad had finished. ‘What is to be done?’
‘We were hoping that you might have some suggestions,’ Murchad replied. ‘I cannot keep Toca Nia and Cian on board my ship all the way to Iberia and then back again to Laigin. I am advised that these charges must be heard before a competent judge in Éireann but I cannot take these men directly there, nor can I afford to wait until a ship bound there puts into Ushant.’
‘Why should you do either?’
‘Because,’ intervened Fidelma carefully, ‘Toca Nia has to make his accusations before the courts of Éireann. I think Murchad was hoping that you might keep them both securely here until the next ship for Eireann puts in.’
Father Pol considered the matter for a moment and then made a dismissive gesture.
‘Who knows when that might be? Anyway, surely you cannot dictate to a Brother of the Faith that he must leave a pilgrimage to answer these charges? What do you know of law, Sister?’
‘Sister Fidelma is a lawyer of our courts,’ explained Murchad hastily.
Father Pol turned to her with interest.
‘Are you an ecclesiastical lawyer?’
‘I know the Penitentials but I am an advocate of our ancient secular laws.’
Father Pol seemed disappointed.
‘Surely ecclesiastical law has precedence over secular laws? In which case, you do not need even consider these claims.’
Fidelma shook her head.
‘That is not how the law works in our country, Father. Toca Nia has made one of the most serious charges possible. Cian must answer them.’
Father Pol pondered for a moment or two before shaking his head negatively.
‘I have to say, as leader of the community here, and as representative of the Church, that your law does not run on this island. I can do nothing. If, out of their free will, this Brother Cian or Toca Nia, or both of them, wish to leave your ship and stay here until a ship bound for Éireann arrives, then they are free to do so. Or if they want to go anywhere else, they are free to do so. But I am not able to dictate or restrain them unless they break the laws that govern this island. You must decide what is best.’
Murchad was clearly unhappy.
‘It seems,’ Fidelma said, turning to him, ‘there is now only one choice. Your ship is your kingdom, Murchad, which you rule as chief
according to the laws of the Fénechus. It is your obligation to keep Cian and Toca Nia on your ship and eventually take them back to Éireann.’
Murchad started to raise objections but Fidelma raised a hand and silenced him.
‘I said, it is your obligation. I did not say it was your commitment. You are the arbiter of what must be. I can only advise you as to how the law might view the matter.’
BOOK: Act of Mercy
5.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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