Peter Tremayne - Whispers of the Dead

“Cara?” Faramund’s voice was puzzled. “Do you. . you mean Febrat’s wife? I don’t know what. . where. .”

The corners of Fidelma’s mouth turned down in disapproval.

“It will save us a lot of time if you are honest, Faramund. You have placed your chieftain, Conrí, in an embarrassing position, organizing mock raids on Febrat’s farmstead and conspiring with his wife to have him declared insane.”

“Conspiring. .?” The good humor in the young man seemed to evaporate into visible anger “Who are you to come here and make these accusations?”

“Fallach, explain to Faramund who I am.”

The warrior did so.

“So, Faramund, you have a choice,” went on Fidelma calmly. “You will cooperate with me now, or you will do so later under duress before your chieftain. If you choose the latter, your punishment when you are judged will be that much more severe.”

Faramund stared malevolently at her. He was not intimidated.

“You threaten to carry me off to be judged? There are only two of you, one warrior and one woman. Within my call there are half-a-dozen of my workers who. .”

Fidelma actually smiled broadly but her voice was sharp.

“Only six. . surely not? I counted eight or nine horses trailing the alder branches behind them to destroy any sign of their passage. Am I mistaken?”

Faramund’s expression tightened. Then he forced himself to relax.

“You are either very brave or very stupid, dálaigh . I have but to call my to my men. .”

“And then what? Díomsach and your own chieftain, Conrí, await our return. Do you think that you can threaten harm to a dálaigh and the sister of the King of Muman with impunity?”

Faramund was still truculent and threatening.

“The King of Muman is not here and I. .”

A female voice interrupted.

“Enough, Faramund! You cannot defy her by physical threats. She is too powerful.”

A young woman emerged from the door. She had dark hair and was good-looking in a voluptuous way. She knew that she was attractive and her whole body moved in a manner that seemed to exploit the animal-like quality. Fidelma noticed that she was holding a wooden mallet in her hand as if it were a defensive weapon.

Faramund turned as if to protest.

“Cara! So you are here?” Fallach greeted her in astonishment.

The young woman laughed. There was bitterness in her tone.

“That is obvious.” She turned to stare at Fidelma. “But I don’t know how you knew.”

Fidelma sighed softly.

“When did you think of this crazy scheme Cara? Was it before or after you married Febrat?”

The young woman looked defiant.

“I have nothing to say. You can prove nothing. Is it a crime to have a lover? My husband could not fulfill all my wants.”

Faramund nodded eagerly at her words.

“Cara’s right. We are simply lovers. What else are you accusing us of?”

Fidelma regarded them patiently.

“I was not aware that I had accused you of anything. But, since you have raised the matter, it’s quite simple. You want Febrat out of the way so that you could take over the silver mine at Cnoc Cerb.”

Faramund gave an angry hiss as he exhaled sharply but Cara’s shoulders suddenly drooped in resignation.

“You will have to prove it,” she said quietly but submissively.

“If Febrat could be pronounced without legal responsibility, as a mer, one who is confused or deranged, then you would be in control of his land at Cnoc Cerb.”

“I don’t understand what you are talking about,” Cara said suddenly.

“I know nothing of law.”

“But you do, don’t you, Faramund. What level of law did you achieve in your studies?”

Faramund flushed.

“Who says that I. .?”

“Do not waste my time!” she snapped.

“There has been no secret that you once studied law before you became a farmer,” Fallach pointed out. “I know it and so does Díomsach.”

The young man hesitated and then shrugged.

“I studied to the level of freisneidhed. ”

“So you reached your third year of study?” mused Fidelma. “And thus you have read the text Do Drúithaib agus Meraib agus Dásachtaib which deals with the use of land belonging to an insane person.” It was a statement not a question. “So it was you who suggested a way by which Cara might take over her husband’s land at Cnoc Cerb without killing poor Febrat? Have him declared a mer and, being guardian, she would gain control of the riches that he had discovered there.”

Cara was defiant.

“So what? No harm would have come to Febrat. The law says that I would have to look after Febrat for so long as he lives and if I did not I would have to pay five séds and suffer forfeiture of the land. He would not have suffered. .”

Faramund frowned at her.

“You are talking too much, Cara,” he warned sharply. “She cannot prove. .”

“I expect,” Fidelma wheeled ’round on him, “that was not your plan, was it? An accident, perhaps, some months in the future? Or perhaps something more subtle? An insane person attacking his wife? The insane person can be killed in self-defense or by someone else acting to defend the person being attacked.” She turned back to Cara who was sobbing quietly. “What I would like to know is when did this plan first materialize in your mind-before or after you married Febrat?”

“Faramund and I were lovers before Febrat started paying me court. My mother was a princess of Áine and so was I but we had no wealth, no backing. You don’t know what that means. It was then we found out that there was silver on the hill which Febrat owned. It was Faramund who suggested the idea of obtaining ownership without even hurting Febrat by having him declared insane. I married him and waited for a while before we put the plan into operation.”

“And you really think that Faramund would remain your secret lover while Febrat lived? Once you had your hands on the silver mine, Faramund would have wanted to own it by seeking marriage with you and becoming your heir. How long before not only Febrat perished but you as well?”

Faramund’s eyes narrowed. His look was murderous.

“You don’t think that you will be able to get back to Díomsach and tell him this, do you?” he asked quietly.

Fidelma smiled softly.

“Are you proposing to start your killing spree already? First Fallach and myself and then. . who? Cara next, I suppose.”

Faramund drew out a vicious-looking long-bladed knife but before anyone could move he suddenly gave a grunt and went down senseless to the ground.

Cara was standing behind him looking at the wooden mallet in her hand.

“I presume that you used the same method to knock out your husband, Febrat? Faramund and his farmhands came last night and rode around the farmstead hooting and yelling to convince your husband the farm was under attack. They carried alder branches to disguise the passage of their horses.”

Cara gestured helplessly.

“I could not stand to kill anyone. I told Faramund that. He made his plan seem so plausible. No one would get hurt. Febrat would be taken care of and we would have the silver. But I could not bear to kill anyone.”

Fallach, who had been bending by the slumped form of Faramund, glanced up and grimaced.

“I am afraid that you will have to come to terms with that, Cara. You have hit him too hard.”

The boy is innocent.”

The chief magistrate of Droim Sorn, Brehon Tuama, seemed adamant.

Sister Fidelma sat back in her chair and gazed thoughtfully at the tall man who was seated on the other side of the hearth. She had received an urgent request from Brehon Tuama to come to the small township of Droim Sorn in her capacity as dálaigh, advocate of the law courts. A sixteen-year-old lad named Braon had been accused of murder and theft. Brehon Tuama had suggested that Fidelma should undertake the boy’s defense.