Peter Tremayne - Our Lady of Darkness

‘I will eat my apple on the journey,’ Eadulf told Barrán as he stood up. ‘I have no objection to speed, if speed will clear me and bring us closer to the truth of this matter. Yet I fear that Fianamail’s speed is only the desire to speed my death.’

Aidan helped Eadulf clamber up behind him on his horse. Two of the warriors took the two young girls up behind them. Muirecht and Conna had remained mute and frightened throughout all these dramatic events. Then, with Barrán, Fianamail and Abbot Noé at their head, the column of riders set out down the slopes of the Yellow Mountain with the white frost now visibly disappearing in the growing warmth of the morning sun.

The great hall of the King of Laigin was filled to capacity. Centre of attention was Barrán, seated in his rich robes of office and carrying his ornate wand which designated that he spoke with all the authority not only of the law but as the personal representative of the High King. By his side, on his seat of office, sprawled Fianamail, looking more like a sulky youth than King of Laigin. By comparison to Barrán he scarcely merited attention for it was Barrán who exuded all the command in the hall from his very poise and natural attitude.

Along the sides of the hall sat several scribes, intent over their clay tablets on which they would make their notes before they were transcribed to vellum as permanent records of the events. There were Brehons, trainees as well as those qualified, all determined to absorb the wisdom of the Chief Brehon. Once word had spread through the township that Barrán would judge the case, everyone who was able tried to squeeze into the King’s hall to hear such important judgments.

On the right side of the hall sat Bishop Forbassach; next to him was Abbot Noé, Abbess Fainder, Sister Étromma, and several other prominent members of the community of the abbey, including Brother Cett and the physician, Brother Miach.

Opposite them, on the left-hand side, sat Sister Fidelma with Eadulf by her side. Behind her sat her faithful companions Dego, Enda and Aidan.

Mel and his warriors seemed to be in charge of the security of the King’s hall, although Fidelma noticed that the Fianna warriors, who had accompanied Barrán from Tara, were positioned strategically throughout the assembly.

It was midday and much had happened that morning. Barrán had resided over several private hearings. Now it was time for matters to be brought into public scrutiny.

Barrán glanced towards his chief scribe and gave a gentle indication with his head. The man rose and banged his staff of office on the floor three times.

‘This court is convened to hear the final submissions and judgment in matters relating to the death of one Gormgilla, of an unknown boatman, of Daig, a warrior of Laigin, of Brother Ibar, a religieux of Fearna and of Gabrán, a merchant of Cam Eolaing.’

Barrán began without further preamble.

‘I have before me a submission from the dálaigh, Fidelma of Cashel, for the vindication of Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham, a Saxon ambassador in our land. She submits that his conviction by the courts of Laigin, his sentence, and any subsequent infractions of the laws of Laigin in attempting to prove his innocence, be quashed and removed from the record books of this kingdom. Her argument is that Eadulf was innocent of all charges and all else that followed was a pursuit of injustice. The said Eadulf then acted in defence of his life and was within the law in doing so.’

Barrán glanced towards Bishop Forbassach.

‘What do you say in response to that appeal, Brehon of Laigin?’

Bishop Forbassach rose. He was slightly pale and his features mirrored his displeasure. He had already spent several hours in the company of Barrán and Fidelma that morning. He cleared his throat before saying, quietly: ‘There is no objection to the appeal by the dálaigh of Cashel.’

There was an audible gasp of astonishment among those in the hall as they realised what had been said. Bishop Forbassach sat down abruptly.

Barrán’s chief scribe banged his staff for silence. Barrán waited for the murmurs to die away before he spoke again.

‘I now formerly declare as invalid and void that conviction and sentence against Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. He leaves this court in innocence and with no stain upon his honour.’

On the benches, Fidelma reached impulsively over and caught Eadulf’s hand and squeezed it while Dego, Enda and Aidan clapped the Saxon monk on the back.

‘It is further declared,’ went on the Chief Brehon, ignoring their demonstration, ‘that the Brehon of Laigin must pay compensation to the said Eadulf in the term of an honour price fixed at eight cumals. The amount is fixed in law because Eadulf is an emissary between Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Colgú, King of Cashel. He carries the honour price equivalent to that of half the man he serves. Does the Brehon of Laigin raise any objection to this?’

‘None.’

The reply was almost missed, being a quick and embarrassed response. Yet another gasp went round the hall as it was realised that Bishop Forbassach was agreeing to compensate Eadulf to the amount of the value of twenty-four cows. Even Eadulf looked bemused at the munificence of the sum.

‘There is an end to Eadulf’s guilt,’ announced Barrán. ‘But let it be recorded why this verdict and sentenced is revoked. I, and other witnesses, made a preliminary examination before entering this court. What we learnt there was a matter which horrified us and caused great sorrow.

‘The river-boat captain, Gabrán, was engaged in a degenerate and perverse trade. He played on the suffering of needy families by persuading them to sell their young daughters to him. He took these frightened children, for none were of the age of choice, from places in the northern mountains of this kingdom and brought them down to the river. He placed them in his boat and transported them along the river to the sea port at Loch Garman. There he sold them to slave ships which transported them beyond the seas. Yes, he sold these young girls into slavery.’

There was an icy silence in the hall, a sense of shock and horror at what the Chief Brehon was telling the people.

‘We heard from the witness Fial, one of the young girls who survived this ordeal, that Gabrán had sunk to the level of an animal and actually used his captives for his own sexual appetite. This he did, even though they were not of age.

‘We have heard that on the fateful trip, from which Eadulf became an innocent victim, Fial’s companion, a girl called Gormgilla, was taken by the drunken Gabrán, while his boat was tied up at the quay of the abbey here. We may guess the details. Gabrán raped the girl and she fought back. In a drunken rage, he strangled her. It was decided to put the blame on Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham. Those who thought up this evil scheme arrogantly presumed that he was merely a passing foreign pilgrim and that no one would notice if he were sacrificed to cover up the murder. They had been forced to find an explanation for the murder because of the arrival of the abbess and Mel before the body could be disposed of.

‘It was a wicked scheme but one which nearly worked. Luckily, they had not realised that Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham was not someonewhose death could be so lightly passed over. Their haughty presumption was their undoing.’

Barrán looked towards Fidelma.

‘I believe, Fidelma of Cashel, that you have some observations that you wish to make at this time?’

Fidelma rose in the expectant silence of the hall.

‘Thank you, Barrán. I have much to say for this matter cannot simply rest with the exoneration of Brother Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham.’