Eye of the Law (20 page)

‘He was worried,’ he said eventually. He looked at her and his gaze was very direct, very honest. ‘He wasn’t worried because he had anything to do with it, but he was worried because of . . .’

And then he was silent and she got the impression that he was searching for words, searching to explain something to her that he had never formulated even in the secret depths of his own mind.

‘You see, Brehon,’ he said eventually. ‘We are very poor. And we depend on goodwill to make a living.’ He stopped again and Mara nodded gently.

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘You are dependent on the O’Lochlainn for the lease of the sally gardens and of your cottage.’

‘Not just that.’ He frowned a little as if she had failed to understand him. ‘We are dependent on everyone. People could make their own baskets, you know. There is no great skill in it, just a lot of hard work. But people say, “Look at Dalagh and his wife and their family, they have no farm, no land, no cattle. Those children will starve if they can’t sell the baskets.” And then they decide: “We’ll buy the baskets from them and this will save us the trouble of making our own and we will feel that we have done a good deed.”’ He frowned again. ‘It’s not that they actually say this, Brehon, but that’s what is behind it.’

‘I understand,’ said Mara again. She felt a quick rush of admiration for this boy. In a different circumstance he could have made a fine scholar. That had been very well expressed. ‘Your father felt that he didn’t want to cause any trouble. He knew that Iarla of Aran had come on a very unpopular errand and that many people would have been glad that he had disappeared.’ Her mind went quickly to the sullen, disappointed Donogh of Glenslade and his bright happy son, Donogh Óg, and then strayed over to Ardal at Lissylisheen, contented in his work, in his relationship with his brother and his brother’s children. And then her mind went back to Teige, blazing with anger at the insult to his daughter.

‘And of course, there was another reason to avoid drawing any connection between the dead man and the basket maker’s family.’ She eyed him very closely, uncertain as to the extent of the family’s knowledge on this subject. ‘On St Patrick’s Night, when he arrived from Aran, Iarla danced for a long time with your sister Orlaith. This was after your parents had left, but people do gossip . . .’ Purposely she allowed her sentence to tail out into silence and she watched him closely. There was no doubt that he was dismayed at her acquaintance with this matter. He thought for a moment and then raised his chin.

‘The word was that it was the daughter of the O’Brien who was being courted by Iarla of Aran,’ he said courageously, and she warmed to him even more because of that courage and his family loyalty.

‘I know all about that,’ she said brusquely. ‘But I also know that when Mairéad O’Lochlainn took Saoirse up to her mother, Iarla turned his attentions towards another girl and that this girl was your sister Orlaith.’

Now he looked alarmed. He didn’t challenge her statement, just looked worried and suddenly rather young and out of his depth.

‘Don’t worry.’ Mara put a hand on his arm. ‘I mean no harm to any of you, but I must have the truth. Sit down here by the fire.’

She went to the door and opened it. It was as if she had sent a signal. Brigid immediately appeared at the door of the kitchen house, a tray in her hand. Mara waited as Brigid crossed the cobbled yard with her quick footsteps and then took the tray from her. Brigid, she knew, would tell Cumhal that young Danann would not be joining him yet. I’m blessed with such tactful servants, thought Mara as, with a quick smile at Brigid, she closed the door behind her.

‘Have some ale,’ she said solicitously. ‘And a honey cake.’

Danann ate and drank heartily and seemed glad of the break in the questioning and she allowed a comfortable silence to develop between them until she saw the wary look go from his eyes. He looked around the schoolhouse with interest, eyeing the solid oaken benches and tables, the ink horns and the trays of well-sharpened quills, and the shelves of the wooden press filled with scrolls and leather-bound books. It must seem a strange life to him, the life that her boys led, with their clean, smooth hands and their carefree shouts as they galloped over the Burren on their ponies. Their study of books, memorizing of law texts and continual sharpening of their wits would seem, perhaps, a luxurious existence to him.

‘Can you read, Danann?’ Mara asked the question with interest. There was something about the way that his eyes scanned the books that aroused her curiosity.

He smiled reminiscently. ‘A little, Brehon. When I was serving on the altar as a seven-year-old the priest here at Kilcorney taught me my letters. I can read a bit, but I never progressed.’ He paused for a moment, then added with dignity, ‘Myself and the priest of that time fell out.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Mara said no more. She had vivid memories of the former priest of Kilcorney and she would not wish any vulnerable child to have fallen into his clutches. It was a shame that his studies had been interrupted, but she applauded his spirit and his courage. Perhaps there was something that she could do she thought, but then dismissed the matter. What she needed to concentrate on now was the issue of these two deaths. She gave a quick nod and then turned back to him.

‘So Iarla came up to Kilcorney to see your sister, Orlaith, was that?’ Mara made her voice sound casual.

Outside there was a sudden, heavy shower, sweeping in from the Atlantic. She got up and closed the shutters, threw another log of pinewood on to the fire, but all the time, she kept an unobtrusive eye on the boy’s face.

‘No,’ he said when she had resumed her seat, ‘that was not the way of it at all. Not that morning. The first I saw of him that Thursday morning –’ he paused looking suddenly rather appalled – ‘well, he was already dead when I saw him that time and it was not long after sunrise then – about an hour perhaps, but no more.’

Not that morning
, noted Mara, but there were other questions to ask first.

‘You were the one who found the body. Is that right?’

‘Me and two of my brothers.’ His reply was brief; his face tense and worried.

‘Did you touch him?’

This time he just nodded.

‘Was he stiff?’ Mara asked.

Again he nodded.

‘And his eye had been gouged out?’

He flinched at that as he nodded and then took a large bite from a honey cake to hide his reaction. Mara also took one of the tempting small cakes from the wooden platter and crunched it in unison.

‘Nice,’ he said, and she returned his grin.

‘Brigid is a great cook,’ she remarked nonchalantly. And then she carelessly added, ‘Did you go for your father straight away?’

‘That’s right. He had gone in to the cottage to talk to my mother about the size of some of the red willow rods. When he came out we told him. We waited because we thought he wouldn’t want the girls to know.’

He was relaxed and at ease with her now. Danann could not be much more than Moylan’s age, she thought, but his life had been a hard one and it had given him a spurious maturity.

‘And why did he tell you all to say nothing? To leave the body lying there on the earth! Why did he do that? I wonder.’

‘We kept the ravens away.’ This time Danann sounded uncomfortable.

‘But why not send someone to me, or to the physician, or to your
taoiseach
? The O’Lochlainn would have come instantly.’

‘Father said that it was Balor who had killed him and we shouldn’t meddle.’ His voice held a slight hint of amusement in it.

Mara smiled broadly. ‘But you didn’t believe that, did you? Not at your age!’

Danann put the remains of the honey cake into his mouth and swallowed it down with a large gulp of ale.

‘Have another.’ Mara pushed the platter towards him, saying rapidly, almost to herself, ‘I suppose your father didn’t want to get mixed up in the affair. After all, everyone knew that this Iarla from Aran had claimed to be the
taoiseach
’s son and that the
taoiseach
wasn’t happy about it.’

‘No one believed that he was the son of
himself.
’ His answer was brief and slightly muffled by a mouthful of cake. ‘It’s like Liam the steward was saying . . . There was no way that the man from Aran was an O’Lochlainn. He hadn’t the look of them, nor the way of them . . .’

Fineguth
,
finechruth
,
finebés
, thought Mara. The clansmen of the Burren were not lawyers, but a knowledge of the law lay deep in their bones; it was the rule by which their lives were led in peace with their families and their neighbours.

‘So your father thought that his
taoiseach
might be annoyed if he interfered in this matter?’

Danann fidgeted slightly, breaking his cake into crumbs, but he did not deny this.

‘And, of course,’ continued Mara, ‘Iarla had come to see Orlaith on Wednesday and your father was cross about that. Most people knew by then what had happened to the O’Brien’s daughter on St Patrick’s Night and no father would want a man who behaved as Iarla did to come courting his daughter. He sent him away then, I suppose, and told Orlaith to have nothing to do with him. That was the way with it, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’ Danann said the words with a cheerful recklessness. No doubt he had decided that he might as well make a full confession. He glanced over to the door as if wondering when he would do the job that he had been asked here to do.

‘Just one more thing.’ Mara followed the direction of his gaze and smiled reassuringly at him. ‘I just wondered why no one discovered the body of Becan yesterday. You couldn’t have failed to see the ravens. Did any of you go over to Balor’s Cave?’

‘No, we didn’t,’ said Danann. ‘My father told us not to, to mind our own business. He got the notion that the body of Iarla had been dug up in the night by Balor and put back outside the cave. I don’t know whether he thought that would frighten us, but none of us argued with him anyway. Sooner or later someone would come, that’s what I said to myself. And of course, it was yourself, Brehon.’

‘That was all very helpful to me, Danann,’ said Mara, rising to her feet and rummaging along the shelf of the press. ‘Here, take this bag, put the rest of the cakes in it. There should be enough for one for each of your brothers and sisters.’

‘I promise not to eat them on the way home.’

He had an easy grin on his face and she responded by saying, ‘And I promise that everything you have told me will remain a secret between us both.’

He looked grateful for that and she took the opportunity, as they walked towards the door together, of saying, ‘I’d say that it’s all nonsense about Balor and that cave being owned by him, wouldn’t you?’

He shrugged, but, boy-like, could not resist a boast. ‘It’s just a cave like any other cave, Brehon. My brothers and I took candles in one night and explored it. We went back quite a long way and found no Balor!’

Eleven

The lowest grade of king has an honour price of 42
séts
and he has direct control only over his own kingdom. A king who has control over three kingdoms has an honour price of 48
séts
and can be called a great king.

The highest king in the land has an honour price of 84
séts
. He rules over a province and can be described as a king of great kings.

F
achtnan and Hugh arrived soon after Cumhal had taken Danann back to Kilcorney. They clattered into the courtyard as Mara was searching through her law scrolls. There was no doubt that Turlough would be seriously worried about this second death of a man from Aran. Aran had been part of the kingdom of the Burren for a long time, but it had been an uneasy relationship. In the past before new methods of boat building had become the norm, Aran, with its cockleshell-like
currach
boats made of a wicker frame covered with skins, could be inaccessible for many months of the winter. The small island communities had become accustomed to relying on their own
taoiseach
for government.

‘Well, how did you get on?’ she asked, turning around.

‘Not well,’ said Hugh with a disappointed look. ‘Though we tried our best,’ he added.

‘’I think it was probably all right, Hugh,’ said Fachtnan quietly. ‘We probably found out what the Brehon had guessed.’

‘And what was that?’

Despite her worries about Aran, Mara smiled. She enjoyed her boys, watching and guiding their growing personalities and their active minds was one of the chief pleasures of her position. Fachtnan never disappointed her when it came to an understanding of people.

‘Well, no one had seen any sign of Iarla from Aran, on that Thursday morning,’ Fachtnan told her.

Mara nodded and a quick smile flickered over Fachtnan’s face.

‘We questioned everyone we could find,’ he continued. ‘Even the man who went out to the fields in Ballyganner south to check on the cows. He went out there just after sunset and spent about half an hour going from field to field.’

‘And he would definitely have seen Iarla if he had come down from Noughaval,’ said Hugh. ‘So we can be almost certain that Iarla did not come to Lemeanah that morning. We’ve checked as much as possible.’ Hugh sounded more cheerful.

‘Well done, boys. A good lawyer always checks facts as painstakingly as possible and that is what you’ve been doing this morning.’

‘And that’s not all,’ said Fachtnan generously. ‘You’ll be very pleased with Hugh because he found out something very interesting from one of the serving girls.’

‘I had to give her a kiss before she’d tell me.’ Hugh was half laughing, but half embarrassed. Mara was glad that neither Moylan nor Aidan were present.

‘She heard us asking questions of the guardsmen in the gatehouse so she called Hugh out to look at the new foal,’ explained Fachtnan.