Peter Tremayne - The Spider's Web

‘Two nights ago, the pigs that were kept by Archú were allowed to trample through the fence that borders our farmlands. They came at night. They did damage to my crops. One of the hogsfought with one of mine, causing injury. The pigs defecated in my farmyard. Is this not so, Agdae?’

The lean man nodded, almost glumly.

Muadnat went on: ‘Every farmer in the land knows the law. I demand the full measure of compensation for this.’

He sat down abruptly.

Crón turned her gaze to Agdae.

‘Can you confirm everything that Muadnat has said, bearing witness without fear or favour of Muadnat to whom you are related and for whom you labour?’

Agdae stood up, glanced at Muadnat and nodded rapidly.

‘It is so, tanist of the Araglin. It is exactly as my uncle claims it to be.’

He sat down with equal swiftness.

Crón turned to Archú and motioned him to stand.

‘You have heard the charges made against you. What have you to say in your defence, Archú? Do you dispute the facts as we have heard them?’

The young man stood up. His expression was one of weary resignation. Scoth caught at his hand as if to give him comfort.

‘It is true.’ He spoke as if he was filled with fatigue. ‘The pigs did escape from my land and crossed into Muadnat’s and caused the damage as he said.’

Muadnat’s face creased into a broad triumphant smile.

‘He admits it,’ he observed aloud, as if to emphasise the point to the court.

Crón ignored him.

‘Have you nothing to say in your defence?’ she pressed.

‘Nothing. I had built a temporary pen for the pigs as best I could and found that this had been pulled down. The pigs themselves had not destroyed it.’

Crón leant forward eagerly.

‘Are you claiming that the fence was pulled down deliberately?’

‘I believe it to have been so.’

Muadnat gave a bark of laughter.

‘Desperation forces the youth to lie. You cannot believe that.’

‘Do you name the person responsible?’ asked Crón. ‘If so, you must substantiate that claim.’

Archú looked with hatred at Muadnat.

‘I cannot make any such claims. I have no witness to support me. I did not see who damaged the pig pen. I can make no defence.’

‘The facts are clear!’ Muadnat called impatiently. ‘The boy admits them. Give me the full measure of compensation.’

‘Have you anything else to say, Archú?’ inquired Crón.

‘Judge me as you will,’ said the youth in resignation, returning to his seat.

It was then that Fidelma leant forward and touched Crón’s arm gently.

‘If I may be permitted to ask some questions to settle points of law?’

Crón indicated her agreement: ‘Proceed.’

‘My first question is addressed to Archú. When did you come into legal possession of your farm and the ownership of your pigs?’

Archú stared at her in amazement.

‘But you know that,’ he protested.

‘Answer the question,’ Fidelma replied sharply.

‘At the time of the judgment which you, yourself, made at Lios Mhór.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘Four days ago, no more,’ Archú replied, shaking his head as if he thought she had taken leave of her senses.

‘And you, Muadnat, do you agree with that?’

Muadnat laughed scornfully.

‘You made the judgment for him. Have you forgotten so soon?’

‘So Archú has been four days in ownership of the farm? Do you both agree?’

‘Yes; the farm is his and the pigs are his and his is the responsibility,’ Muadnat grunted, smiling triumphantly at hisnephew Agdae who sat nodding his agreement.

‘And am I right in suggesting that before Archú owned the farm and the pigs, you, yourself, owned that same farm and the pigs?’ Fidelma inquired.

For the first time a flicker of suspicion crossed Muadnat’s eyes.

‘You know that well enough,’ he replied with an attempt at braggadocio but there was a slight uneasiness in his voice.

‘Did you farm the land now owned by Archú separately or as one with your adjacent lands?’

Muadnat hesitated again, not really understanding where the questions were leading but suspecting some forthcoming trap.

He appealed to Crón.

‘The facts have been laid before you, tanist of Araglin. I do not understand what this woman is seeking to imply.’

‘Answer the question,’ Fidelma insisted. ‘Ignorance of the meaning behind the question is no excuse not to answer a dálaigh of the courts. You already stand guilty of insulting my office.’

The sharpness in her voice caused Muadnat to blink and swallow.

He looked appealingly at Crón but the tanist simply motioned him to answer.

‘I farmed them as one,’ he admitted gruffly.

Fidelma nodded impatiently, as if she had known the answer all along but was merely waiting for him to enunciate it.

‘The law states that the boundary fences between farms must be clearly maintained. This is the law under which you seek judgment, is it not so?’ she asked.

Muadnat did not reply.

‘Did you maintain the boundary fences?’

‘The farm that Archú now owns had been mine for years. I removed the boundary fences when there was no need for them to be there.’

‘The law found that the farm Archú owns had not been yours and that for the years you had been running it you had done soonly as legal guardian of the interests of your kinsman, Archú,’ replied Fidelma. ‘You admit removing the boundary fences between his farm and your farm?’

Crón was regarding Fidelma with unconcealed admiration as she suddenly caught the trend of the questioning. Her past antagonism with Fidelma aside, Crón was intelligent enough to appreciate Fidelma’s sharp mind and legal knowledge.

‘Admit?’ Muadnat was confused. ‘Why leave a boundary between lands which were mine?’

Fidelma allowed a thin smile to hover on her lips.

‘You removed the boundary fence?’

‘I did.’

Fidelma turned to Crón apparently satisfied.

‘I am now willing to advise you on the law, tanist of Araglin, unless you wish more questioning. The matter is clear to me. Do you wish my advice in private or in public?’

‘I think the litigants have a right to hear the law,’ replied Crón solemnly.

‘Very well. Firstly, we learn that Archú became owner de facto — that is, in actual fact — of the property only four days ago. Until that time, while owner de jure — that is, by right — it was Muadnat who occupied and ran the farm. Muadnat admits that he took down the boundary fences between the two farms. That, under law, is an illegal act, although we may excuse Muadnat because he can argue that he thought he was acting legally.’

Muadnat rose and tried to interrupt.

‘You will be silent while the dálaigh is giving advice on the matter of law.’ Crón’s voice was harsh.

Cranat, who had sat like a statue all this time, stirred uneasily.

‘Daughter, is there call for such sharpness in addressing one who is your kin and has served your father faithfully?’ she protested. ‘It shames us before strangers.’

Muadnat had fallen silent and resumed his seat.

Crón looked angrily at her mother.

‘I am tanist; a tanist giving judgment. The court must be quiet, mother. This includes you.’

Cranat stared in surprise at her daughter, her mouth snapping shut with an audible sound.

‘Proceed, Sister Fidelma,’ Crón ordered after a moment. Fidelma went on:

‘Secondly, bearing in mind that Archú assumed the ownership only four days ago, one may assume that he has had no time to secure the fences.’

‘The law is clear,’ cried Muadnat obstinately. ‘Time does not matter. He is responsible for the fence.’