Eye of the Law (36 page)

‘I’m here, Brehon,’ he said when he arrived at the foot of the dolmen.

‘You say that the words of Liam the steward are false?’ She put the query to him with no preliminary reassurance and his answer came as quickly as her question.

‘I know that they are false, Brehon.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I and my brothers watched Liam come out of Balor’s Cave on one moonlit night last year, before ever the man from Aran arrived in this kingdom. We saw him come out, look all around and when he went back in, we followed him and we came to the barn at Lissylisheen. We saw all the goods piled inside the cave and we found more goods on the turf barrow just inside the passageway at the entrance to the barn.’

‘And you did not think to tell anyone of this?’

‘No, Brehon, we thought it best to say nothing.’ His words were dignified, but his eyes pleaded with her not to question him further.

Mara nodded. ‘Could you call one of your brothers who was also present that night?’

The younger boy was not as confident as Danann but he said enough to corroborate his brother’s evidence. When he had finished, Mara looked over at Cavan.

‘Have you or your client anything more to say?’ she asked courteously.

Both men shook their heads.

‘In that case I pass sentence.’ She took a step forward and waited until complete silence had descended on the crowd.

‘Liam O’Lochlainn, I find you guilty of the crime of
duinetháide
, the secret and unlawful murder, of two men, Iarla from Aran and his uncle Becan. Becan’s honour price as a blacksmith was seven
sét
s and the fine for his secret and unlawful killing is eighty-four
sét
s. This makes a fine of eighty-nine
sét
s, that is forty-five cows or forty-five ounces of silver. Iarla’s honour price as a fisherman was only half a
sét
so the fine for his murder would be forty-two cows or forty-two ounces of silver. These sums are to be paid to the victim’s families within ten days.’

She waited, but Liam said nothing. He had turned away and was staring at the cliff, meeting no one’s eyes, so she finished in her customary fashion: ‘Now go in peace with your families and your neighbours.’

I
t was the last day of April when Turlough returned from the Aran Islands. Mara was waiting at the gate of the Brehon’s house. She had seen the king and his retinue go past while she was still teaching in the law school and had guessed that he was going to Lissylisheen to give Ardal an account of his journey. He would leave all of his men, except for his two bodyguards, at Lissylisheen, she guessed. School was over now for the day and they would have supper together and then she would hear everything and tomorrow they would have one of their precious weekends together at Ballinalacken Castle.

Turlough’s face bore a look of shock when he dismounted. He hardly waited to kiss her hastily before saying dramatically: ‘You’ll never guess what sound I heard as I rode into the courtyard at Lissylisheen.’

‘Not Liam giving orders, anyway,’ said Mara. She had her own news about Liam, but that could wait until they were inside and having their supper cosily seated by the fire.

‘I heard,’ said Turlough slowly and dramatically, ‘a child cry.’

‘Oh, that.’ Mara smiled dismissively. ‘That was just little Finn.’

‘Finn,’ he repeated.

‘Yes, Ardal’s son. I’ve been down three times this week to see him. He’s a beautiful baby. Ardal and Marta are so proud of him.’

‘Marta,’ repeated Turlough.

‘Well, never mind that now,’ said Mara, taking his arm and walking up the path towards the open front door of her house. ‘Tell me all about Aran,’ she said as soon as they were inside. ‘Did you put the bunch of primroses on Étain’s grave for me?’

‘I did,’ said Turlough wincing slightly at the memory as he sank down on the big cushioned chair and stretched out his long legs, ‘and I had to do it with all the men-at-arms standing there and trying not to laugh. I also paid over the fine money to Bebhinn and to Iarla’s sisters. I think that was very welcome. I just went down to tell Ardal about that. I still feel bad about Ardal paying the fine when that scoundrel, Liam, absconded. Any sign of the villain, by the way? I’ll put him in chains as soon as I catch up with him. I have men looking for him all over the three kingdoms.’

‘I don’t think that you will catch up with him,’ said Mara quietly. ‘My son-in-law, Oisín, brought me some wine from Galway today. He brought some news as well. Liam is apparently the owner of a prosperous inn in Galway, right in the centre of the city. He has owned it for years. People often wondered about it because there was always new building going on there – and nothing but the best of furnishings and hangings. All the rich merchants from overseas countries stay there.’

‘Well!’ Turlough was speechless, staring angrily into the fire.

‘Did you meet Ardal’s new steward?’ she asked lightly to distract his thoughts from Liam.

It worked. Turlough was always endlessly curious about people. ‘No, who has he found? I was going to offer to spare one of my men to him for a while.’

‘I don’t think he’ll need anything; the new steward has taken to the work very well. He’s a clever boy. Do you remember I told you about Danann, the basket maker’s eldest son? Well, Ardal is training him in the business and the boy is doing very well. His writing and adding up is almost as good as Liam’s and I would stake my honour that he is honest.’

That had been a mistake. Turlough stared at her, a flush of fury mounting to his forehead. ‘I’m glad Ardal’s suited, but it doesn’t alter the fact that Liam has defied the authority of the laws of this kingdom. I’ll get him back if it’s the last thing that I do,’ he blustered.

‘You won’t,’ said Mara quietly. ‘You know very well that you have no jurisdiction over the city of Galway. That is ruled by English law. Liam knew that well when he bought an inn there all of those years ago. If anything ever happened to let Ardal know what he was up to, then he had only less than half a day’s gallop to put himself beyond the reach of our law. He’s a rich man there and you can do nothing. Ardal knows that. I don’t think he cares.’ Mara smiled when she thought of Ardal. ‘All Ardal is concerned about now is watching his son and planning for his future; I love to see him with that child. Next June or July, you and I will be the same. We will have our own child to watch over and to bring up in this kingdom.’

‘Hm.’ He was only half-appeased; she could see that. The whole business with Liam had reminded him of the close proximity of English rule and the dangers to the Gaelic kingdoms even here on the Atlantic fringe.

‘You must be tired after your sea-crossing,’ she said solicitously. ‘Sit by the fire while I finish writing up my casebook. Brigid will be in with our supper in a minute.’ And then, as he continued to drum his fingers on the windowsill, she took a glass from the court cupboard in the corner of the room. ‘Have this glass of wine while you’re waiting. It’s good, this one. We just opened the little barrel in your honour today. It’s been two years in my cellar.’ She poured some dark red wine into the glass from the flagon on the table by the fire.

Turlough sipped the wine with appreciative noises, but was restless and would not sit by the fire. He paced the room and then came to stand behind her, watching as her pen moved swiftly over the vellum leaf.

‘To think of all the worry and trouble this case has been to you, and all for nothing,’ he burst out as she paused to trim the quill with her knife. ‘I can’t bear to think how that villain escaped after all your hard work, and poor Ardal left to bear the burden of paying for his crime!’

‘I don’t look at it like that at all.’ Mara put her pen down carefully on the penholder and looked up at him. She was surprised at so much vehemence from such a tolerant man. ‘As for Ardal,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘I have a suspicion that he was aware of what Liam was doing, not precisely how and to what extent, but he didn’t want to challenge him. Paying the fine helped him to make reparation for two crimes which were partly caused by his own weakness and dependency on Liam.’

‘He was lonely, poor fellow,’ said Turlough compassionately.

‘That’s true, I suppose.’ Even now Mara could still be surprised at the compassion and understanding of this warlike man that she had married. ‘Ardal
was
lonely. I can see the huge change in him since Marta and the baby have come to live at Lissylisheen. As for me, what was important to me was achieved.’ And, then, before he could question her, she drew a line under the entry in her casebook and in her square minuscule handwriting she wrote: