Peter Tremayne - The Leper's bell

‘Which proves my point. Anyway, Conrí is going to have them tried by the Brehon of the Uí Fidgente so that they can be stripped of their chieftainships. He feels that it is a way to heal the wounds between his people and yours.’

‘Let us hope so.’

‘And what of Muirgen and Nessán?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘When do they head back to Sliabh Mis?’

‘If you agree, they will not. I was going to bring this up later. Muirgen will make a very good nurse to young Alchú and my brother has herds on the slopes of Maoldomhnach’s Hill that need a good pastor.’

Eadulf’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘Have they agreed to this?’

Fidelma gave a gesture of affirmation.

‘We now await your approval of the idea. If so, Nessán can head back to Sliabh Mis to make the necessary arrangements for closing their homestead and dispersing their flock before rejoining his wife. Muirgen seems to have taken to life in Cashel with some enthusiasm. And perhaps we can find an orphan for them to foster as their own as well. Perhaps someone for Alchú to go into fosterage with.’

‘Fosterage?’ Eadulf frowned.

‘You know our laws now, Eadulf. When Alchú reaches the age of seven we must send him to fosterage until he is seventeen. Under the law, we must send him to some chieftain or learned person who will tend to his welfare and education. This is our custom, intended to make our people strong by creating bonds between families.’

‘Have I nothing to say in the matter?’ Eadulf felt a pang of his old frustration.

‘Not under our law,’ she replied gently. ‘Alchú is the son of a eu glas , a foreign father, and therefore it is up to me as mother to make the arrangements for fosterage. It is our custom and our law.’

‘Which raises a point…’ began Eadulf.

‘It does,’ said Fidelma, looking suddenly serious. ‘In a few days’ time, our trial marriage comes to an end. The year and a day is up and I shall no longer be a ben charrthach and you will cease to be my fer comtha ”

Eadulf knew the terms well. He waited silently. He had known for some time that this day would come.

‘Well, Eadulf, we must make a decision. Do you want me to become a cétmuintir ?’

Eadulf looked at her. He realised that she was smiling. A cétmuintir was the first contracted wife. The partner of a permanent relationship. Eadulf put down his goblet of wine and reached out both his hands to her with a growing look of amazement.

‘Let’s talk about it,’ he said softly.