Cnucha, who had been sitting quietly through all the proceedings, made no movement at all, other than to raise her head and smile faintly. Her expression seemed to say ‘prove it’.
The ripple of reaction in the chamber died away after a moment or two.
‘And will you tell us how you came to this conclusion and what motive Cnucha had?’ Brehon Sedna carried on.
‘Following the birth of her last child, Be Bhail, three years ago, the lady Gormflaith noticed an estrangement between herself and her husband. I have already mentioned this. As many of you know, it was soon afterwards that she set up her own household in the royal enclosure. She was sure, as she told her daughter Muirgel, that Sechnussach had taken a mistress or even a secret second wife. Why did Sechnussach reject Gormflaith? Who knows the deeper workings of a man’s mind. All he told her, as she repeated it to me, was that he preferred a girl –
a girl
was the word – who made no demands but, when called for, came to his bed like a maid. It is an interesting expression and one that revealed much about his mind. Gormflaith was a strong character, an intelligent person, and we can speculate that Sechnussach was not happy in his relationship.’
She looked to where Gormflaith was sitting. She could not see her expression, for the widow of the High King sat with bowed head.
‘If Gormflaith suspected that her husband had taken a mistress, but she didn’t know who it was, then I had to consider the possibilities. In the circumstances there seemed three candidates. It finally became clear in my mind who I was looking for when Brother Rogallach repeated a favourite saying of Sechnussach.
Sit non doctissima conjux
– may my wife not be very learned. He wanted a mistress who simply obeyed him and who would make no demands. Alas, there are such arrogant men in this world.’
Brehon Sedna was frowning. ‘But what you are now describing, Fidelma, is not the kind of person who would stab her sleeping lover in the heart and kill him.’
‘With respect, Brehon Sedna, I disagree,’ Fidelma said. ‘Cnucha is a plain-looking girl, quiet and overlooked by many. Her fellow maids thought of her as being timid as a mouse. Eadulf overheard her speaking to Brónach about Sechnussach early on, and it was very obvious that she had no high opinion of the High King’s attitudes. That was interesting. How did she know his attitudes?
‘In reality, Cnucha was far from being a quiet mouse. That was shown on two occasions, when she showed a flash of temper towards Brónach and then confessed that she got angry when people thought they could insult her because she seemed so meek and mild. Báine even told Eadulf
. that Cnucha had thrown a jug at her once in a fit of temper. So, a passion was simmering there behind that quiet exterior.’
Brehon Sedna was having none of it. ‘These are merely circumstantial arguments, Fidelma. We need proof that places Cnucha in the High King’s bedchamber that night with the knife in her hand and then all these arguments might back your case.’
Fidelma turned to the girl. ‘I have a question to put to Cnucha.’
The girl slowly stood up. The pale eyes that stared at Fidelma were like ice; the face was a mask.
‘Do you recall a conversation with Brónach in the guesthouse in which you were discussing a time, just after Sechnussach’s death, when the lady Muirgel caught you searching his chambers?’
‘I cannot recall all conversations that passed between us.’
‘This one was interesting. Muirgel had struck you. You told Brónach that you had been searching for something that you had lost. Muirgel and Barrán actually thought you were spying on their conspiracy.’
A slight look of uncertainty came into the girl’s eyes. She made no reply.
‘Why were you searching there?’
‘I had lost something, that is all,’ Cnucha said hesitantly. ‘A personal possession. I noticed that I had lost it after I had been cleaning the chamber.’
‘Brónach cleaned the High King’s chambers after his death. I think you had lost this possession beforehand. You told Brónach what it was, didn’t you? It was valuable, wasn’t it?’
The girl mumbled, ‘It was valuable to me.’
‘Because a special person gave it to you? Come, Cnucha. We no longer have time to play games.’
‘It was a bracelet. That’s all.’
‘A bracelet worth a lot of money,’ added Eadulf.
‘It was a bracelet made up of silver Gaulish coins,’ Cnucha replied defensively.
Fidelma reached forward and held up the silver bracelet that she had taken from Cuan.
‘Where would you have dropped it? In the secret passageway, perhaps?’ she asked softly.
The girl’s eyes started as they looked at the bracelet.
‘Of course not! I was careful when—’ She suddenly realised what she was saying and then, without warning, she rushed towards Fidelma with
outstretched hands. ‘It’s mine! Give it to me! Give it to me! It’s the only thing he ever gave me … it’s mine!’
Two members of the Fianna caught her flaying arms before she reached Fidelma and held her tightly.
‘So,’ sighed Brehon Sedna, ‘you seem to have proved your point. You found the bracelet with the knife in this passageway?’
Fidelma surprised him by shaking her head.
‘Cuan will confirm the details. He stands confessed of Mer’s death and the wounding of Brother Rogallach, so has nothing to gain by lying now. When he and Lugna entered Sechnussach’s chamber, he saw the bracelet by the bed. Cnucha had discarded it, probably during that last night of lovemaking, before she killed her lover. While Lugna was distracted, Cuan picked it up, saw it was valuable and stole it. Cnucha had told Eadulf it was a bracelet of Gaulish coins. Eadulf is blessed with a good memory for detail and when he noticed that Cuan was wearing such a bracelet, he told me his suspicion. It was easy to get Cuan to confess how he had really come by it.’
Brehon Sedna sat back. ‘You have argued that Cnucha was the mistress of Sechnussach, and Cnucha’s actions here have now betrayed her. But what was her motive in killing the High King, her lover?’
‘A motive as old as the mountains, Brehon Sedna,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Love and hate can be two sides of the same coin. Perhaps Cnucha would like to explain?’
But the girl had relapsed into silence.
After waiting a moment, Fidelma turned back to the Brehon.
‘While Sechnussach saw Cnucha as merely a girl to have his way with, a timid thing whom he could summon to his bed at will and who would make no demands on him, like some pet dog to come at his beck and call, Cnucha truly loved him. Perhaps Sechnussach made her promises. He certainly gave her this valuable bracelet of Gaulish coins. Maybe one of those promises was that he would marry her, if only he was able to.
‘Then Cnucha probably learned, how does not matter, that Gormflaith was divorcing Sechnussach. She went to him, fully expecting him to say that he would marry her. He—’
‘Laughed at me!’ came Cnucha’s cold voice. ‘Laughed at the very idea of marriage to me … a mere servant. I could go to bed with him but I could not appear in public with him. That was when I took the knife from
the kitchen and, after he had had his way with me, as he lay sleeping, I stabbed him in the heart. The pig will betray no one else again.’
After the tumult that greeted this declaration had died down and everyone was leaving the chamber, Eadulf turned to Fidelma and said privately, ‘I have to say, she was the last person I would have suspected. So quiet, so outwardly shy. You would hardly notice her in company. I felt sorry for her – I still do. It’s hard to think that she could rise to such passion that would make her into a killer.’
‘You should remember the old Roman saying –
altissima quarque fiumina
minimo sono labi
,’ replied Fidelma philosophically.
‘The deepest rivers flow with the least sound,’ translated Eadulf.
‘However, you are right,’ she continued. ‘In a way, you must feel sorry for her. Sechnussach abused her. Yet I admired Sechnussach as High King. Indeed, I helped him come to the throne some years ago. We all have our faults, but his was a grievous fault in his attitude to women.’
‘What will happen to her?’
‘To Cnucha?’
Eadulf nodded.
‘She will be charged with
duinetháide —
secret killing. For she sought to hide her guilt.’
‘And if found guilty, as she will be?’
‘She or her family will have to pay Sechnussach’s honour price. That is twenty-one
cumals.’
‘And if they can’t?’
‘At best, she will be consigned into service more or less as she is now, serving as a maid until the debt is paid or until she dies.’
‘At worst?’
‘At worst, and it rarely happens, she could be put into a boat with one paddle, food and water for a day and set adrift on an offshore wind. But I think a good defence will point out the circumstances of her case and how she was driven to her action. I will speak to Brehon Sedna and ensure she is well represented. The honour price could be greatly reduced in the circumstances, but she will have to pay or serve until such time she has paid off the debt.’
‘
S
i finis bonus est, totum bonum erit,’
sighed Eadulf as they sat together a few days later with Cenn Faelad’s newly appointed Chief Brehon in the library. of
Tech Cormaic.
Brehon Sedna smiled indulgently. ‘If the end is good, everything will be good,’ he repeated, translating the Latin saying. ‘Yet it was truly a complicated matter and one that might well have led to bloodshed and war, or even brought about the devastation of the five kingdoms. You both are owed much. You have but to ask.’
‘All we wish is to return to our child and the peace of Cashel,’ replied Fidelma gravely.
‘We cannot tempt you to remain in Tara? There is much work here for a keen and alert legal mind.’
Fidelma glanced at Eadulf and they both uttered the negative in such positive unison that Brehon Sedna burst out laughing.
‘Is it really so bad here?’ he protested.
Fidelma gave him an answering smile. ‘It is just that it is so much better in Cashel because … ’ she was about to say, ‘because it is my home,’ but, glancing again at Eadulf, she altered it to ‘because our son is there.’
‘I understand,’ Brehon Sedna replied solemnly. ‘I have children of my own.’
‘Which reminds me,’ Eadulf said. ‘What of the boy, Assid?’
‘Yes – what will happen to him?’ Fidelma added. ‘I will argue his case, if need be, before we return to Cashel.’
‘Ah, poor child. He has had an evil star to guide him. As you know, Verbas of Peqini has sailed from our shores without contesting what he claimed to be the theft of his property. While one could say that this matter of slavery was his culture, that it was the custom of his people,
and therefore it is hard to lay our moral blame on him when his people did not share our morality, he was, nevertheless, a rather vain and cruel man. As for the law, it was quite clear that you and Fidelma were entirely correct in granting the boy sanctuary when he fled into your arms.’
‘We did not doubt it,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘So what will be his fate?’
‘I have discussed it with both Bishop Luachan and Brother Rogallach, and they have come up with an excellent suggestion. Do you know of Abbot Tírechán?’
Fidelma answered at once. ‘Tírechán of Ard Breacan? He who wrote lives of both the Blessed Patrick and of Brigid of Cill Dara? That is an excellent idea.’
‘I do not know of him,’ protested Eadulf. ‘What is an excellent idea?’
‘He is abbot and bishop of a community not far to the north of here,’ explained Brehon Sedna. ‘The place is called the Height of Breacan after a blessed teacher who established a community of Christ there. When Brecain died, Ultán succeeded him as abbot.’
‘Not Ultán … ?’ began Eadulf, remembering their investigation of the murder of Abbot Ultán of Cill Ria.
6
‘There are many who are called Ultán,’ Fidelma reminded him. ‘It just means a man from Ulaidh.’
‘During the scourge of the Yellow Plague in this land,’ went on Brehon Sedna, ‘there were many young ones left without father, mother or even any kith or kin to care for them. It was one of the great horrors of that deadly pestilence. Ultán and members of his community went out and gathered these poor mites together, the crying, hungry babies and wandering children. They brought them to their community and cared for them, educated them and thus they were able to survive.’
‘Abbot Ultán died ten years ago,’ added Fidelma, ‘so Tírechán succeeded him as abbot and bishop there. He continues this great work of caring for orphans.’
Brehon Sedna nodded in agreement.
‘Both Bishop Luachan and Brother Rogallach suggested that the boy, Assid, would find a home there until he reached the age of choice and decided what he should do in life. The boy is intelligent and speaks three languages and also reads and writes them. While he has no clear memories of his origins, those he does have seem to confirm what you already deduced – that he was on a pilgrim ship from one of the five kingdoms,
perhaps Connacht, judging by his name, and perhaps he is the son of religious. So what better place for him? I have put the idea to him and he is willing.’
‘An excellent resolution to the matter,’ Fidelma said decidedly.
‘The boy would like to see you both to also thank you for your intervention at the river. So before you depart for Cashel, you will find him staying with Brother Rogallach.’
‘That reminds me of another thing,’ Eadulf suddenly said. ‘That ancient relic, the silver disc. It was the source of much trouble, and if your legends are correct, it could well be used again by those who want to overthrow the Faith.’
‘We have talked much about it, the High King’s advisers. Cenn Faelad has agreed that what does not exist cannot be used as a weapon. The High King’s smith has already melted it down and the proceeds will help rebuild the ruined abbeys and churches.’
‘Another good resolution,’ approved Eadulf,
However, Brehon Sedna was watching Fidelma’s expression. ‘You do not entirely agree?’ he asked.
‘Part of my mind agrees,’ she replied slowly. ‘Yet I cannot help thinking, it was made in good faith by our ancestors long before the coming of the word of Christ. It was a sacred and dear object to them. By melting it down, we are in danger of cutting ourselves off from our forefathers. Is that a good thing?’
‘But it could have been used as a weapon in the future to destroy our faith and forment bloodshed,’ repeated Brehon Sedna. ‘It surely is better to prevent such an eventuality. Such objects can provoke an evil fanaticism.’
‘That does not arise from the object itself – that arises from the interpretations people place on it,’ countered Fidelma. ‘Part of me is worried that we are creating a deep abyss between our new world and those of our ancestors in the old world. Once that chasm has been made, we will never be able to re-cross it and know their thoughts, their fears and their hopes.’
Brehon Sedna was not convinced. ‘Perhaps we are too busy trying to deal with our own thoughts, fears and hopes,’ he pointed out.
‘Just as a child is,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘But a child has parents to advise him. And through the parents’ experience, knowledge and example, the child is guided. I fear we may soon be stumbling forth in the world, never
knowing what knowledge and example our parents would have bequeathed to us.’
She stopped and then smiled fondly at Eadulf, ‘Speaking of the examples of parents, I would like to start back on the road to Cashel as soon as possible.’