Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘Take it and prosper by it,’ he said shortly.

Marga took the coin, examined it, and then deliberately, she letit fall to the ground. There was a smile of contempt on her lips. She seemed to expect Eadulf to scramble on the ground to retrieve the coin. Eadulf simply stared back into her cold eyes for a moment before proceeding into the building.

His task was not going to be easy if the people of the ráth of Laisre had all decided that Fidelma was guilty before her trial.

He made his way up towards the tower where Fidelma had said Murgal’s apartment and library were. But there were many corridors and several doors. He stood hesitating, wondering what to do.

‘Ha, the Saxon! What are you doing here?’

Eadulf found himself gazing at the flirtatious features of Esnad, the daughter of Orla. She stood in the doorway of an apartment. She was leaning against the door jamb regarding him with a seductive smile.

‘I am looking for Murgal’s library,’ he said.

She pouted.

‘Oh. Books! Why don’t you come in and join me for a game of Brandub instead? If you don’t know how to play it, I will teach you.’ She gestured invitingly into the room beyond. ‘These are my apartments.’

Eadulf flushed in his confusion at her wanton expression.

‘I have much work to do, Esnad,’ he said respectfully, remembering that she was, after all, the daughter of the tanist. ‘If you could tell me where Murgal’s library is …?’

‘What do you want with my library, Saxon?’ came the deep tones of the Druid. The inquisitorial figure of Murgal stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Esnad let out a hiss of disapproval and flounced into her apartment, slamming the door.

Eadulf was somewhat relieved and turned to the Druid almost in gratitude.

‘In truth, I was looking for you to ask your permission to examine your library.’

Murgal’s eyebrows rose slightly.

‘And what service can it provide you?’

‘I am in need of two law texts and it may be that you might have these.’

Murgal was obviously puzzled.

‘Why would you need such law texts?’

‘You have incarcerated Fidelma of Cashel.’

‘I have,’ agreed Murgal simply.

‘She has appointed me her Brehon.’

Murgal looked surprised.

‘You will plead for her? But you are a foreigner and you are not qualified as a dálaigh.’

‘A person who is not qualified in law has the right to conduct a case before a Brehon if they wish to take the risk,’ Eadulf pointed out. ‘Even a foreigner. I know enough of your law to argue that.’

Murgal thought for a moment and then agreed.

‘Such a person is called a “tongueless person” but if he wastes the court’s time he could be fined heavily. Are you prepared to take that risk?’

‘I am.’

‘Well,’ Murgal admitted, ‘I cannot say that I am surprised that you will support her. But you will have little enough to do. The case is quite clear. Her guilt is obvious.’

Eadulf was quietly outraged.

‘And have you decided what Fidelma’s motive was for killing a fellow cleric?’ he demanded.

‘Oh yes. Christians are always fighting with one another when they cannot find anyone else to fight with. What is it that you supporters of Rome call it? Odium theologicum? There is always mutual hatred among you.’

‘I see. As a Brehon you have already pronounced judgment,’ snapped Eadulf. ‘Perhaps I should expand your knowledge of Latin with the phrase maxim audi alteram partem — hear the other side.’

Murgal blinked and for a moment Eadulf thought he would explode in rage. Then, to Eadulf’s surprise, he started to chuckle.

‘Well said, Saxon; well said! You may examine the law books in my library and I wish you well of them.’

‘There is a second thing I would ask of you?’

‘What further service do you wish of me?’

‘Fidelma of Cashel is incarcerated until her trial.’

‘Yes. There is a statutory limitation of nine days in a murder trial,’ agreed Murgal. ‘After that, she has to answer before the law. No one is immune from this process.’

‘But Fidelma of Cashel cannot prepare her defence unless she is at liberty.’

‘The law is the law, Saxon. Even I cannot change the law to suit an individual.’

Eadulf bowed his head in acknowledgment.

‘The law is the law,’ he echoed softly. ‘But the stricture of the law is often open to interpretation. Surely the word of Fidelma of Cashel, one of rank in this land, is enough to secure her release and to act as árach or surety until the trial. Imprisoning her is not justice.’

Murgal regarded him thoughtfully.

‘You seem familiar enough with our law to make use of such concepts as árach, Saxon.’

Eadulf decided honesty was a better policy.

‘I know little enough. That is why I need to consult some law texts. But as I am representing Fidelma of Cashel, I would like to officially request a hearing before you tomorrow so that I might plead Fidelma’s case for release before her trial.’

‘What law books do you want?’ Murgal inquired with interest.

Eadulf named the texts which Fidelma had advised him to look at. Murgal was thoughtful.

‘You have made a wise choice, Saxon,’ he said begrudgingly.

He gestured to Eadulf to accompany him, leading him up the steps into a tower room. Eadulf was surprised to find it was filled with lines of pegs and book holders. There were even some stands containing wands which he recognised from previous occasions as ‘wands of the poets’ — texts written in the ancient Irish Ogham script which dated back centuries before the Faith was brought to Ireland. Unhesitating, Murgal went to two satchels and took out the volumes.

‘These are the texts you require. Take them to the guests’ hostel and study them but they must be returned as soon as possible,’ he instructed, handing them to Eadulf.

‘I shall look after them carefully, have no fear.’

Murgal ushered him out of the room and locked the door again.

‘And the hearing?’ pressed Eadulf. ‘Will you hear the plea on Fidelma’s behalf for her release pending her trial?’

Murgal shook his head negatively.

‘It is not a matter I can give an answer to immediately. Some thought must be given to it. To call a hearing necessitates some fresh arguments and might go against the wish of my chieftain, Laisre.’

‘Doesn’t the law stand above a chieftain’s wishes?’

Murgal smiled thinly.

‘Is that your only argument?’

‘No. There is the undeniable argument that Fidelma of Cashel is not just a religieuse, or just an advocate of the court. She is also sister to the king of Muman and as such she has a rank that must be respected. It is her right to be heard as to why she may not stand liberate on her own recognisances.’

‘I will let you know my answer before this night is over. It will also depend on whether you tell me that you have found the right path to judgment in those law books you hold. May justice guide your quest, Saxon.’

Thus dismissed, Eadulf made his way carefully towards the guests’ hostel. He was passing along the wall of the building under the walkway against the wall of the ráth when some sixth sense made him swing aside from the path. He did not know what prompted him to do so. Perhaps it was some extra-sensory perception, or some faint sound heard in a fraction of a second, or some other inexplicable sense. A large, heavy stone, dislodged from the battlement, crashed at his feet, so close that he felt the hiss of air and had his foot been so much as an inch or so before him it would have been smashed.

Eadulf sprang back, losing hold of the law books which dropped to the ground.