Peter Tremayne - Penance of the Damned

At this Conri gave a low chuckle. ‘And did Glaed say – “Of course you may have my prisoner, Lord Abbot. I have always obeyed the Church and the law.” Then you bade each other farewell and went your respective ways?’

Abbot Nannid was unruffled. ‘You have obviously learned the art of tabhachtach …’ He paused to savour the word which Eadulf knew meant the art of sarcasm. ‘No doubt you picked it up from your friend, the dalaigh . The truth is that we had a long negotiation and we were able to make a bargain. I bought the prisoner and the services of four guards for a period of three days.’

‘You use the word “bought”. You have proof of this exchange?’ enquired Brehon Faolchair.

‘My steward here was witness to it.’

‘He would be,’ muttered Fidelma in a low voice but one which everyone heard.

‘As good a witness in truth as your own,’ Brother Cuineain replied angrily.

‘May we ask what sum did Glaed settle for, in exchange for handing Gorman over to you and for hiring out the services of his killers?’ Fidelma wanted to know.

But no insult or question seemed to unsettle the smug abbot. ‘I have nothing to hide on that account,’ he said airily. ‘I offered him five gold pieces and some silver, to the value of five sed s.’

‘Not thirty pieces of silver?’ Eadulf asked mildly.

Abbot Nannid flushed but still managed to keep his temper.

‘Five pieces of gold and some silver,’ he repeated heavily. ‘I would also reject the term “killers” for the men I have employed. I would call them hired warriors.’

The word Abbot Nannid used to correct Fidelma was amhus which Eadulf recognised as a respected term for a mercenary.

‘How is it that you had such a large sum on you?’

‘As I said, we were on our way to meet with Brother Feradach, taking with us the dues that the Abbey of Nechta owes to Mungairit.’

Conri whistled disbelievingly. ‘You had the sum with you and travelled without protection. And Glaed knew you had such valuables with you to purchase his prisoner? Then, by the gods, knowing Glaed, why did he not slit your throats, take your gold anyway and-’

‘As you see from my presence,’ Abbot Nannid boomed, ‘he did not. The bargain was made – and it was made with the protection of the one God. Am I to believe that you, warlord of the Ui Fidgente, reject the Faith when you refer to “the gods”?’

It was a clever way of trying to turn the tables on the warrior, side-stepping the point, and Conri fell into the trap.

‘It is a common phrase,’ he replied tightly. ‘You cannot wipe out a thousand years of ancient sayings in two centuries.’

For the first time Airmid, Prince Donennach’s sister, leaned forward and whispered something in her brother’s ear. He nodded and raised his hand to still the muttering.

‘This meeting does not seem to be getting us anywhere but is merely continuing to sow the seeds of discord among us.’

‘Yet these matters need to be answered,’ insisted Fidelma.

‘If you remember, Glaed was once a cleric.’ Abbot Nannid’s tone was even. ‘He studied at the Abbey of the Blessed Machaoi on the island of Oen Druim and even won the degree of freisneidhed in law. That much was made clear in your previous encounter with him; even Conri will bear witness to that. For whatever else he has done, Glaed still respects the Church and my person as Abbot. That is my explanation of how I met Glaed and secured possession of the murderer of Abbot Segdae.’

There was a whispered exchange between Brehon Faolchair and Prince Donennach before the Brehon turned to Fidelma.

‘Fidelma of Cashel, Abbot Nannid has given an explanation of his behaviour at the Hill of Truth. Before you speak, remember that he has admitted that he was there, spoke with the rebel leader Glaed and has returned here with the escaped prisoner, Gorman, having purchased the services of mercenaries. Do you have any evidence or witnesses that disprove his account?’

‘It is a story as unlikely as believing a cat is innocent after shutting it in a room with a bowl of cream and then entering to find the cream has vanished,’ Eadulf said contemptuously.

Brother Cuineain grinned in derision at him. ‘Evidence is needed, Angle, not speculation.’

Fidelma stood silent for a moment, head bowed. Then she heaved a sigh. ‘We admit our observations were made from a distance. All we can swear to is that Abbot Nannid and his steward met Glaed and his marauders. And all we can give evidence to are the facts and not their interpretation.’

Brehon Faolchair waited a moment, looking uncertainly from Fidelma to Abbot Nannid as if expecting further argument. Then he had a whispered exchange with Prince Donennach before announcing: ‘We must first deal with the implied question of Abbot Nannid’s disloyalty to me in meeting with the brigand Glaed. The arguments have been listened to. The evidence presented by Fidelma of Cashel is deemed inadmissible inasmuch as it is too circumstantial and indirect. I take my authority from the Berrad Airechta , which clearly states the case. I am sure, Fidelma, you will have also considered this matter as it relates to what you have said?’

Fidelma conceded the reference, knowing what was about to happen.

Brehon Faolchair went on. ‘In view of Abbot Nannid’s explanation of his behaviour, and there being no clear evidence in contradiction to that explanation, then, indeed, the authority I quote must stand as the judgement on the matter of implied disloyalty.

‘There is then the matter of compensation for tarnishing the reputation of the abbot,’ intervened Brother Cuineain with an air of triumph. ‘It is well known that the law system stipulates compensation for making accusations which damage the reputation of a person. The compensation for doing so for an abbot or bishop of high degree, whose honour price is seven cumals , the worth of twenty-one milch cows …’

Brehon Faolchair held up his hand to silence the gloating steward.

‘Brother Cuaneain feels the law should consider restitution or compensation since the abbot’s honour has been besmirched. Do you share your steward’s opinion, Abbot Nannid?’

The man shrugged indifferently. ‘My steward raises a good point.’

‘He raises it under the law of the Brehons, not under your proclaimed Penitentials.’ Brehon Faolchair’s voice was bland but his eyes glinted. ‘And if I pronounce a judgement now, you will not object?’

‘Do so and let us get it over,’ Abbot Nannid grumbled as if unconcerned.

Brehon Faolchair turned to Fidelma. ‘I ask the same question of you, Fidelma of Cashel.’

Eadulf muttered something under his breath but Fidelma held the eyes of the Brehon steadily. ‘I have accepted your ruling that the evidence does not completely sustain my interpretation of it. I will accept your judgement on restitution to Abbot Nannid’s honour.’

Brehon Faolchair’s lips formed a grim smile. ‘Very well. Both parties being willing to accept judgement, I shall now give my ruling under the laws relating to aircsiu .’

Eadulf frowned, not having heard the word before. ‘What’s that?’ he whispered.

Brehon Faolchair must have heard him for he went on: ‘ Aircsiu is the law of “looking on”, and I will explain that. Fidelma and Conri came to the Hill of Truth and, because of the presence of Glaed and his brigands they wisely hid themselves. So they became onlookers to the scene. Now the law says that everyone who witnesses an offence and does nothing consents to it. The onlooker is obliged by law to intervene. For example, to put this simply, if a farmer sees that his neighbour’s cattle are in danger, he must go to help them or pay a penalty for not doing so. Similarly, if he does intervene but is unable to prevent danger, he is not liable for the result. If the farmer is mistaken in his observation and intervenes when it turns out that the cattle are not in danger, he has fulfilled the obligation of the law and is also not liable for the result.’