Peter Tremayne - Valley of the Shadow

‘No bribe?’ It was Eadulf s turn to sneer. ‘Then why should you be paid for your testimony if it was not a bribe?’

‘I did see Fidelma in the stable. I did see her bending over the man, Solin. She must have killed him.’

‘Must? This is a change from saying you actually witnessed her do so,’ interposed Murgal gravely.

‘One thing must follow from another,’ protested the warrior-blacksmith.

‘Much play on this word “must”,’ Eadulf observed. ‘Must is merely saying “should” or “ought” but not that something actually was.’

‘This court is well aware of the meaning of the word,’ interposed Murgal testily. ‘And we take notice of Artgal’s change of testimony. But, Artgal, do you admit that you were paid to tell that story?’

‘Not to tell it,’ protested Artgal. ‘To ensure I did not change the story.’

Eadulf let out a low breath and only now did he give a triumphal glance towards Fidelma. She was staring at the floor, her shoulders bent in tension.

‘I am at a loss to understand this,’ Murgal was saying. ‘Why would you be likely to change your story?’

‘I would not. It is the truth. However, I was approached a few hours after Fidelma had been incarcerated, by a man who offered me two séds, for sticking to my story. He would pay me immediately and promised a further séd once Fidelma of Cashel’s trial was over. Money has little value in Gleann Geis and so I agreed that this wasthe value of three milch cows. I accepted such a payment. With such a sum I could be assured of security for the rest of my life.’

‘Who was this man who gave you this money?’ Laisre asked heavily, intervening now for the first time since the revelation was made.

‘I know not, my lord. It was dark and I did not see him. I heard only his voice.’

‘How did he sound?’ demanded Murgal.

Artgal raised a hand helplessly.

Something prompted Eadulf to gamble.

‘You heard his voice clearly enough, Artgal,’ he pressed. ‘Did he have a northern accent?’

Artgal’s expression was pitiful now. The bombast had disappeared entirely.

‘Did he speak with the accent of a man of Ulaidh?’ insisted Eadulf.

Artgal nodded miserably.

All eyes turned to the seated figure of Ibor of Muirthemne whose face had coloured but he kept staring stonily in front of him.

‘What did this voice tell you?’ Murgal asked grimly.

‘The man told me that if I went forth this morning I would find the two milch cows tethered near my farmstead. In nine days’ time I would find a third, that was if I did not change my testimony against Fidelma. I swear I had no choice but to accept. He stood in the darkness by my bed. He could as easily have pressed a dagger’s point into my throat as offer me money.’

‘And did you go forth in the morning, this very morning, and find the milch cows?’ asked Murgal.

‘I did.’

‘And so, in short, your testimony was bought,’ Eadulf summed up triumphantly.

‘I made clear my testimony before I received the cows,’ protested Artgal.

Laisre spoke to Murgal almost with an eager tone.

‘He has a point there. Surely this cannot be considered a bribe to give evidence?’

Eadulf was about to protest but Murgal rubbed his chin thoughtfully before replying to the chieftain.

‘It means that, according to the law, we cannot use Artgal’s evidence against Fidelma. He has rendered himself without honour and cannot be believed. There is no evidence other than his against Fidelma of Cashel.’

Laisre turned to Artgal with scarcely suppressed fury.

‘This man who offered you the cows spoke with the accent of the northern kingdom, you say?’

‘He did, my lord.’

‘Are you sure he spoke with a northern accent? Could it not be a Saxon accent for example?’

There was a loud gasp as all those gathered were amazed at the chieftain’s overt accusation.

‘My lord,’ Murgal urged anxiously, ‘it cannot be suggested that the Saxon trapped Artgal to discredit him in order to bring this decision about.’

Laisre glowered at Eadulf.

‘Why not? One explanation is as good as another.’

‘My lord, reconsider your hasty words. The evidence is clear. Artgal would know a northern accent from a Saxon one and would have said so. For you to argue this would be to bring your office into disrepute.’

Laisre looked as if he wanted to prolong the argument but with Murgal’s discouragement he could not.

‘Very well. We must question all those with northern accents, I suppose.’

Brother Dianach stood up and protested. Even Eadulf was surprised at his sudden leap out of character for he had always been shy and nervous. But anger and presumably fear provoked his outburst.

‘You all know that apart from Brother Solin, only myself and the horse merchant there are from the northern lands. I deny any accusation against me!’

His voice had become almost a falsetto. His face crimson.

‘It wasn’t the boy,’ agreed Artgal hastily. ‘It was a deeper man’s voice.’

Only Fidelma noted that Laisre’s anxiety was now replaced by a look of momentary satisfaction.

Eyes turned to where Ibor of Muirthemne had been sitting. He was no longer in his place.

‘Learned judge,’ interposed Eadulf hurriedly, ‘before we lose sight of the main business of these proceedings, this witness has said enough to prove my argument that his acceptance of this money invalidates his evidence.’

Murgal agreed sombrely.

‘It is true. Artgal, you may leave this chamber but confine yourself to the ráth. I will have to consider what shall be done with you. You have disgraced your chieftain and your clan.’

Artgal had barely left his place when Eadulf spoke again.

‘I suggest that as Artgal’s evidence falls, Sister Fidelma be released fír testa immediately.’

Murgal was about to agree when Laisre, surprisingly, held up his hand and bent forward from his chair towards Eadulf.

‘One charge prevents that, Saxon.’ His voice was harsh. ‘When she was charged with this crime, Fidelma of Cashel demeaned herself by seeking to lay the blame on another — namely my sister, Orla. She swore that she had seen Orla coming out of the stable door. But Orla was, by the testimony of her husband, Colla, able to prove she was not at the stable. Now to swear false oath is enough, as I understand the law, to keep Fidelma of Cashel under lock and key until we consider her guilt or otherwise. I say this notwithstanding the dishonesty of Artgal.’

Most people were taken aback by the tough and unsympathetic attitude of the chieftain. Eadulf let the murmur of the court fade away before he spoke again.

‘Chieftain, believe me when I tell you that I know just how insulted you must feel by a claim which you believe falsely impeaches your family. Yet I would argue that it is no grounds on which to ignore what has happened here this day.’

He now addressed himself to Murgal for his was the final judgment and he would obviously guide Laisre as to the law.

‘In Druidic teachings,’ Eadulf continued softly, ‘so I am told, there is always a Middle Way to approach things. A third way. Maybe Sister Fidelma made a mistake about identifying Orla. It is easily done in the darkness. Just as Artgal, before he fell a victim to avarice, made a mistake in thinking that because Fidelma was bending over the body of Solin of Armagh she therefore must have killed him. Fidelma and Artgal leapt to conclusions. The third way was not considered.’

Murgal was clearly impressed with Eadulf’s argument.

‘Is there any other reason why we should accept your argument?’ inquired Murgal.

‘There is the practical evidence, of course.’