My Lady Judge (16 page)
‘Diarmuid,’ Mara said after Mass was over and everyone was standing outside in the warm noontime sun, ‘Diarmuid, you were looking for me yesterday. Brigid told me that you called.’
‘Oh,’ he said. He looked uneasy. ‘Well, the truth is that I think I said a bit too much to you the day before. I had no right to say it. It was Lorcan’s own business and I got it all wrong. It was just a bit of an argument that he had with Colman.’
‘You’re talking about that silver that Lorcan paid as blackmail to Colman,’ said Mara briskly.
Diarmuid winced at her plain speaking. ‘Well, it seems that I got it wrong,’ he said unhappily. ‘It wasn’t that at all. Just a little wager between them, and Lorcan lost. That’s all there was to it.’
‘I see,’ she said carefully. ‘I understand what you are telling me, Diarmuid.’
They are all involved, she thought. The O’Connors will be worried about Lorcan being implicated, the MacNamaras will not really want Feirdin to be the one that killed Colman, the O’Lochlainns are involved with Muiris – was he not a foster-son to the old
taoiseach
? she wondered, trying to remember the past. And then there were the O’Briens. This was a clan that was much more numerous in Corcomroe and in Thomond, but there were
still many minor members here on the Burren. Hugh’s father, Cian, was a younger brother of an O’Brien
taoiseach
at Lemeanah Castle on the southern boundary between the kingdoms of Corcomroe and the Burren. The O’Briens would bring pressure on the king himself, if there were danger to one of their members.
taoiseach
? she wondered, trying to remember the past. And then there were the O’Briens. This was a clan that was much more numerous in Corcomroe and in Thomond, but there were
still many minor members here on the Burren. Hugh’s father, Cian, was a younger brother of an O’Brien
taoiseach
at Lemeanah Castle on the southern boundary between the kingdoms of Corcomroe and the Burren. The O’Briens would bring pressure on the king himself, if there were danger to one of their members.
Once she began her enquiries, the whole community would band together like a herd of threatened goats. They would present a solid front of prickly horns and it would be difficult to get behind the defences and establish the truth. She would have to do it, though. Without the truth the community would crumble away.
BRETHA CRÓLIGE (JUDGEMENTS OF BLOODLETTINGS)
There are two fines to be paid by a person who murders another. The first is called the éraic, or body fine, and this is paid to the nearest kin of a murdered person. It is forty-two sets, or twenty-one milch cows, or twenty-one ounces of silver. Added to this is the second fine, which is based on the victim’s honour price
.
.
In the case of
duinetháide,
a secret killing
,
the
éraic
is doubled
.
duinetháide,
a secret killing
,
the
éraic
is doubled
.
T
HE BELL FOR VESPERS rang out clear and loud from the abbey in the still evening air. Almost immediately all of the parish churches took up its deep-toned note and the Burren was filled with their clamour – not a joyful sound; these bells clanged with a menace of past sins uncovered and present sins to be atoned. There was no sense of merriment, no talking, no laughter nor joking, when once again, only three days after the eve of
Bealtaine,
the people of the Burren congregated at the ancient dolmen of Poulnabrone. They came slowly and they came reluctantly, but they came because for over 1,500 years they and their ancestors had lived by this system of justice that relied on the goodwill and the cooperation of the clans to keep the peace within its community.
HE BELL FOR VESPERS rang out clear and loud from the abbey in the still evening air. Almost immediately all of the parish churches took up its deep-toned note and the Burren was filled with their clamour – not a joyful sound; these bells clanged with a menace of past sins uncovered and present sins to be atoned. There was no sense of merriment, no talking, no laughter nor joking, when once again, only three days after the eve of
Bealtaine,
the people of the Burren congregated at the ancient dolmen of Poulnabrone. They came slowly and they came reluctantly, but they came because for over 1,500 years they and their ancestors had lived by this system of justice that relied on the goodwill and the cooperation of the clans to keep the peace within its community.
Mara, Brehon of the Burren, the only woman in the country to hold this post of high honour, stood before them. Her face was grave and the black gown that she wore over the customary white
léine
gave extra weight to the solemnity of the occasion. Grouped around her were the six scholars of her law school, their faces as grave as hers. Brigid had quickly restored all the
léinte
to a state of early-morning cleanliness and the white stood out against their tanned faces, arms and legs. One face, however, was as white as the
léine;
Hugh stood there, silently suffering, his blue eyes wide with apprehension. Mara had spoken with him earlier; the boy knew what he had to do. He had only asked that his father, who was away in Galway, should not be summoned. Nevertheless, Mara’s warm heart was sore for him. Her eyes met Brigid’s and Brigid moved a little closer to the boy and stood beside him. Brigid had known Hugh for seven years. He was like a foster-child to her. It had been Brigid who had comforted him at night when he wept for his dead mother and Brigid who had coaxed him to eat with special tasty treats during the days that followed that sudden death.
léine
gave extra weight to the solemnity of the occasion. Grouped around her were the six scholars of her law school, their faces as grave as hers. Brigid had quickly restored all the
léinte
to a state of early-morning cleanliness and the white stood out against their tanned faces, arms and legs. One face, however, was as white as the
léine;
Hugh stood there, silently suffering, his blue eyes wide with apprehension. Mara had spoken with him earlier; the boy knew what he had to do. He had only asked that his father, who was away in Galway, should not be summoned. Nevertheless, Mara’s warm heart was sore for him. Her eyes met Brigid’s and Brigid moved a little closer to the boy and stood beside him. Brigid had known Hugh for seven years. He was like a foster-child to her. It had been Brigid who had comforted him at night when he wept for his dead mother and Brigid who had coaxed him to eat with special tasty treats during the days that followed that sudden death.
Other eyes were on Hugh, also, Mara noticed. Suddenly she realized that most of the people present today knew as much about the events of that
Bealtaine
Eve as she did. Mara was sensitive to atmosphere and she could now feel waves of sympathy and protectiveness coming towards the boy. What had everyone seen that night? Did they know that Colman was killed on the mountainside? Did they know whose dagger lay buried in his neck? Did they suspect that Hugh had been driven by intolerable pressure to do the deed?
Bealtaine
Eve as she did. Mara was sensitive to atmosphere and she could now feel waves of sympathy and protectiveness coming towards the boy. What had everyone seen that night? Did they know that Colman was killed on the mountainside? Did they know whose dagger lay buried in his neck? Did they suspect that Hugh had been driven by intolerable pressure to do the deed?
‘Hugh!’ Emer detached herself from the crowd and rushed forward, her beautiful, delicately tinted face blushing slightly. Mara noticed with amusement that all of the older boys had flushed a dark red as she approached. ‘Hugh,’ repeated Emer, bending over the boy and stroking the red curls with a maternal air. ‘We’ve got a litter of new puppy dogs. Would you like to come over and see them afterwards, later on this evening? You can help me to name them. Would you like that?’ she cooed.
‘Can I come, too?’ asked Shane.
‘Of course,’ she said warmly, but her eyes were still on Hugh, her small brown hand stroking his hair and patting him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll come, then?’ and without waiting for an answer she bent down and dropped a light kiss on the top of his head. I wonder, does she think that Hugh has done her the service of getting rid of her unwanted suitor? thought Mara cynically.
Her eyes moved to the cluster of young men at the side of the dolmen. Roderic was smiling, his square young face illuminated with inner happiness, though his eyes were compassionate when they looked at Hugh. Hugh’s knife had been seen in Colman’s neck; that was for sure, thought Mara. Possibly many guessed that he was blackmailing the boy. Yes, this was the general view at the moment; the people of the Burren suspected that Hugh had killed Colman and that was the reason for the silence on
Bealtaine
night. Hugh was the only scholar at her law school who came from the Burren and the people of the Burren were fiercely protective of their own. She had to sort this matter out, at least. This crime must not hang over Hugh. Mara moved forward and held up one hand. Silence fell instantly.
Bealtaine
night. Hugh was the only scholar at her law school who came from the Burren and the people of the Burren were fiercely protective of their own. She had to sort this matter out, at least. This crime must not hang over Hugh. Mara moved forward and held up one hand. Silence fell instantly.
‘Dia’s muire agat,’
she said in the traditional greeting and back came the answer, ‘God and Mary and Patrick be with you.’
she said in the traditional greeting and back came the answer, ‘God and Mary and Patrick be with you.’
‘I, Mara, Brehon of the Burren, announce to you that a killing of the
aigne,
Colman Lynch, took place on Mullaghmore Mountain
on the eve or the early morning of May the first, the feast of
Bealtaine.’
She paused and a little ripple ran around the crowd, with those nearest repeating her words so that those on the outside of the crowd could hear.
aigne,
Colman Lynch, took place on Mullaghmore Mountain
on the eve or the early morning of May the first, the feast of
Bealtaine.’
She paused and a little ripple ran around the crowd, with those nearest repeating her words so that those on the outside of the crowd could hear.
‘I now call on the person who killed the
aigne,
Colman, to acknowledge the crime and to pay the fine. Colman’s honour price as an
aigne
is the sum of six
séts
or three ounces of silver or three milch cows. The
éraic,
or body fine, for an unlawful killing is forty-two
séts,
or twenty-one ounces of silver or twenty-one milch cows. The whole fine, then, is forty-eight
séts.’
Mara paused and looked all around. There was no murmur, no sound from anyone. The people of the Burren stood as if they were carved from the rock beneath their feet and every eye seemed to be directed towards Hugh.
aigne,
Colman, to acknowledge the crime and to pay the fine. Colman’s honour price as an
aigne
is the sum of six
séts
or three ounces of silver or three milch cows. The
éraic,
or body fine, for an unlawful killing is forty-two
séts,
or twenty-one ounces of silver or twenty-one milch cows. The whole fine, then, is forty-eight
séts.’
Mara paused and looked all around. There was no murmur, no sound from anyone. The people of the Burren stood as if they were carved from the rock beneath their feet and every eye seemed to be directed towards Hugh.
‘For the second time, I call on the person who killed the
aigne,
Colman, to acknowledge the crime and to pay the fine of forty-eight
séts,’
said Mara calmly and without emotion. This time no one repeated her words. She heard them herself, ringing off the limestone cliffs behind the dolmen. She waited, surveying the crowd, but still no one stirred.
aigne,
Colman, to acknowledge the crime and to pay the fine of forty-eight
séts,’
said Mara calmly and without emotion. This time no one repeated her words. She heard them herself, ringing off the limestone cliffs behind the dolmen. She waited, surveying the crowd, but still no one stirred.
‘For the third time, I call on the person who killed the
aigne,
Colman, to acknowledge the crime and to pay the fine of forty-eight
séts,’
said Mara, but she knew by now that no one would reply.
aigne,
Colman, to acknowledge the crime and to pay the fine of forty-eight
séts,’
said Mara, but she knew by now that no one would reply.
‘More than forty-eight hours have now passed since this killing took place, so I now declare it to be a case of
duinetháide,
a secret and unlawful killing. The
éraic
is now eighty-four
séts.
Add to that the victim’s honour price, and the fine is now ninety
séts.’
She waited for a moment. Now she could hear a low murmur of conversation. Heads were turned, one to the other. She held up her hand again, and again silence fell.
duinetháide,
a secret and unlawful killing. The
éraic
is now eighty-four
séts.
Add to that the victim’s honour price, and the fine is now ninety
séts.’
She waited for a moment. Now she could hear a low murmur of conversation. Heads were turned, one to the other. She held up her hand again, and again silence fell.
‘Is there anyone who can bear witness to the events on that night?’ she asked.
Again a murmur rose from the crowd and then, surprisingly loud, a light treble voice said: ‘I can.’
A wave of pride came over Mara. She turned towards Hugh and beckoned. He came over and stood beside her, looking very small and pale, dwarfed by the immense dolmen that reared up beside them. She longed to put her arm around him, but she would not injure his dignity. Diarmuid came forward from the edge of the crowd and, with a quick swing of his muscular arms, lifted Hugh on to the dolmen itself and then sat beside him.
‘Tell what you know,’ said Mara formally.
‘I was with Colman that night,’ he said, his voice now unnaturally loud and strained. ‘He was blackmailing me; he knew that I had cheated in an examination. First he made me give him my silver brooch and then he made me give him my knife. He sent me to wait while he talked with people. When I went to find him, I found he was lying dead in Wolf’s Lair with my knife stuck in his neck.’
Mara waited for a moment. The buzz of conversation was too loud for her voice to be heard clearly. But there was a rumble of anger, deep anger, beneath the noise – was it anger against Colman, or against his killer? Against Colman, she was sure. She held up her hand and waited for the sound to die down before saying loudly and emphatically, ‘Hugh O’Brien, I ask you now, did you kill Colman, the
aigne
?’
aigne
?’
Hugh stood very straight. This time he did not address the crowd. He turned towards her and spoke out in a clear strong voice. ‘No, Brehon,’ he said. ‘I did not kill Colman, the
aigne.
He was already dead when I found him.’
aigne.
He was already dead when I found him.’
A deep swell of sound, almost like a breeze blowing through an ash wood, came from the crowd. It was wordless, but in it there was sympathy, understanding and indignation. Several women, standing nearby, dabbed at their eyes with pieces of linen. The colour returned to Hugh’s face, and Emer rushed out to him,
followed by Aoife. Diarmuid swung Hugh down from his perch and the two girls hugged him, Fachtnan slapped him on the back and then the other scholars did the same. Mara’s eyes met Brigid’s and she saw Brigid smile with a mother’s pride, before slipping away to get supper ready for their return.
followed by Aoife. Diarmuid swung Hugh down from his perch and the two girls hugged him, Fachtnan slapped him on the back and then the other scholars did the same. Mara’s eyes met Brigid’s and she saw Brigid smile with a mother’s pride, before slipping away to get supper ready for their return.
‘That was very brave of Hugh,’ came Nuala’s clear voice. She was very maternal towards Hugh who was only a year younger than she, thought Mara. Nuala had come to terms with the loss of her mother and had tried to help Hugh but she had a stronger character than he did. Her suffering was locked within her and only showed in an occasional impatience with her father.
Mara’s eyes were now scanning the crowd, trying to read the faces. She felt warmed by the support for the child, but she knew this was not the end of the matter. Someone had killed Colman; this could not be forgotten; could not remain hidden. She had to find out who it was. She held up her hand.
‘Has anyone else any evidence to give?’ she asked, her tone bland and neutral.
Now there was silence. From the corner of her eye Mara could see Diarmuid glance at his cousin Lorcan and then look away again. Other people were looking across at Gráinne MacNamara; her son, Feirdin, was not there. Gráinne must have left him at home, perhaps worried in case someone said something to him. The silence continued; nothing more was going to be said.
‘By the authority vested in me by King Turlough Donn, King of Thomond, Corcomroe and Burren,’ said Mara, ‘I declare that the fine for this crime will be reduced to forty-eight
séts
if acknowledgement is made here at Poulnabrone within the next seventy-two hours. The victim may bear some responsibility for this crime, and I will take this into account.’
séts
if acknowledgement is made here at Poulnabrone within the next seventy-two hours. The victim may bear some responsibility for this crime, and I will take this into account.’
She waited for a few minutes, but she did not expect any open announcement. Not yet … That was not the way that they did things here. There would first be a tentative approach, possibly
from a friend or relation, and then perhaps a long talk, with the matter slowly and cautiously touched on, and, eventually, a confession. That was the way things went. She had given a powerful incentive, though, for the guilty to confess. The fine was manageable now with help from the clan. What if a man had no clan, though? she thought and her mind went quickly to Muiris. Muiris was an O’Heynes. She remembered hearing that he had come to the Burren as a boy and had lived with the O’Lochlainn at Lissylisheen, either as a foster-son, or a servant. She had never heard any further details. Either the people of the Burren did not know, or else no one spoke of it. She looked around the crowds, narrowing her eyes against the western sun.
from a friend or relation, and then perhaps a long talk, with the matter slowly and cautiously touched on, and, eventually, a confession. That was the way things went. She had given a powerful incentive, though, for the guilty to confess. The fine was manageable now with help from the clan. What if a man had no clan, though? she thought and her mind went quickly to Muiris. Muiris was an O’Heynes. She remembered hearing that he had come to the Burren as a boy and had lived with the O’Lochlainn at Lissylisheen, either as a foster-son, or a servant. She had never heard any further details. Either the people of the Burren did not know, or else no one spoke of it. She looked around the crowds, narrowing her eyes against the western sun.
Where was Muiris? Aoife was there and so was Áine, Muiris’s wife, and so were the two elder sons. Why was Muiris not there? She sighed as she thought back to that old case. Why had Colman gone through these old judgement texts? This was going to be a difficult and distasteful matter, but there was no more to be gained by keeping the crowd there any longer.
‘Go now,’ she said formally. ‘Go in peace with your family and your neighbours.’
I have laid the bait, she thought; now to hook the fish. She walked over towards the crowd of youngsters. Without surprise she saw that Rory and Roderic had joined Aoife and Emer in the crowd around her scholars. Hugh had escaped from Emer’s cooing attentions to chat with Nuala, so Emer was now free to devote her attention to dimpling and blushing prettily at Roderic’s whispered remarks. Aoife had with her two of her four brothers: Felim, who was betrothed to the daughter of the
taoiseach
in Corcomroe, and Aengus who was just a year older than she. A handsome pair of young men, thought Mara, looking at them both with interest, for a work-worn, plain-looking woman like Áine and a low-stature man like Muiris to produce. Felim, especially, with his blond hair and large brown eyes was extremely good-looking. Aoife, though
without the startling beauty of dark-haired Emer, was a very pretty girl with her thick blond plait and her cornflower eyes. By all accounts, she was her father’s favourite. Muiris was a man who had a lot to lose, thought Mara. Felim had made a great match and now he would want the same for Aengus and for Aoife. He would certainly not be content to see his only daughter married to a wandering bard.
taoiseach
in Corcomroe, and Aengus who was just a year older than she. A handsome pair of young men, thought Mara, looking at them both with interest, for a work-worn, plain-looking woman like Áine and a low-stature man like Muiris to produce. Felim, especially, with his blond hair and large brown eyes was extremely good-looking. Aoife, though
without the startling beauty of dark-haired Emer, was a very pretty girl with her thick blond plait and her cornflower eyes. By all accounts, she was her father’s favourite. Muiris was a man who had a lot to lose, thought Mara. Felim had made a great match and now he would want the same for Aengus and for Aoife. He would certainly not be content to see his only daughter married to a wandering bard.
‘Rory!’ said Mara. Surrounded by all the young people, he had swung himself on top of one of those huge boulders that littered the tableland of the high Burren and stood there, outlined against the sky. He looked magnificent, she thought, rather like a god from one of the ancient stories, with his eyes as blue as the sky and his hair as golden as the sun. He had just begun to sing the first line of
‘Cailín Ó Chois tSiúre Mé’,
but Mara’s severe glance made him stop and clear his throat apologetically. After a moment he slid down again. Aoife giggled, and then turned red at the sight of Mara’s serious face; the law school scholars shuffled their feet; Roderic hastily took his horn from his lips and concealed it behind his back.
‘Cailín Ó Chois tSiúre Mé’,
but Mara’s severe glance made him stop and clear his throat apologetically. After a moment he slid down again. Aoife giggled, and then turned red at the sight of Mara’s serious face; the law school scholars shuffled their feet; Roderic hastily took his horn from his lips and concealed it behind his back.
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