Colgú rose, his face solemn.
‘Nothing grieves me more than to hear what has transpired in my kingdom. This bloodshed of the innocent shall not go unpunished. No longer can the family of the chieftains of the Corco Loígde have any moral right to rule Osraige. The people of Osraige shall choose. It shall be so. My oath of honour, it shall. I pledge it before this court.’
The Chief Brehon acknowledged Colgú with a smile.
‘Your words have gladdened your High King. Then there is one more admonishment that we feel it is in our judgment to make. It will be left to a court of Cashel to fix the degree of guilt and the amount of fine and compensation which must lay at the door of the unfortunate Nechtan. However, we have heard enough at this court to say that Dacán’s honour price is tarnished by his deceptive undertaking on behalf of Laigin. The fine for the death of a scholar of Dacán’s standing is fixed in law at seven cumals, that is the value of twenty-one milch cows. The true honour price for a man of his ecclesiastic standing is twentyséd, the value of twenty milch-cows. A total of forty-one séd would be the sum payable by whoever is found guilty of his death. However …’
Barrán looked towards the king of Laigin.
‘It will be seen that there are other culprits in this matter. This court will direct that those who asked Dacán to proceed with his task disrupted the peace of these kingdoms and threatened a bloody war. They must share responsibility. The honour price for a king of a province is sixteen cumals and because that king has besmirched his honour, sixteen cumals has to be made payable from the king of Laigin to the High King.’
Fianamail was pale and sullen but silent.
‘A further seven cumals shall be payable by Fianamail to the king of Cashel for the casting of a shadow on his honour. That is the judgment of the court. Does Fianamail of Laigin have anything to say?’
The young king rose hesitantly, seemed about to speak and then shook his head and sat down. He whispered to his dálaigh.
Forbassach, as advocate, rose.
‘Laigin accepts the admonition of the court,’ he said quietly. ‘Cedant arma togae … let arms yield to the gown of the law.’
‘That is as it must be,’ agreed the Chief Brehon, solemnly. ‘The business of this assembly is now ended.’
Epilogue
Fidelma was sitting with her brother on the bastion of the walkway of the abbey’s high walls overlooking the inlet. The small bay was quiet and deserted now, apart from a few local coastal barca and fishermen’s boats. The great assembly of ships bearing the High King and his entourage, the Archbishop of Armagh and Fianamail of Laigin and his retinue, had all departed. Even the threatening warship of Mugrón, which had seemed an immovable part of the scenery of the inlet, had weighed anchor and followed the Laigin fleet away from the coasts of Muman. What was left was a quiet, tranquil scene.
‘Truly, Fidelma,’ Colgú was more boisterous and no longer looking tense or weary, ‘you have shown that your reputation is well founded.’
Fidelma gave an indifferent shrug.
‘There is nothing to be satisfied about,’ she replied. ‘If I were not the instrument of the downfall of these evil people, then it would have been someone else. Didn’t Euripides say that evil people by their own nature can never prosper?’
Colgú looked suddenly solemn.
‘I believe that you are thinking more of Salbach than of young Nechtan, aren’t you? If you had not brought about Salbach’s downfall at this stage then I think that many people would have lost their lives in the resolution of that evil. At least the Corco Loigde can appoint a new chieftain and one, I trust, with more honour and humanity in him. And, perhaps, Osraige will be more content with the freedom to choose theirnative rulers again. So far as I am concerned, Salbach’s dishonour is equally shared by Scandlán.’
Fidelma look at him approvingly.
‘That is good. Although I cannot prove it, I believe that Scandlan of Osraige was involved in this plot to destroy all opposition to his dynasty. As for young Nechtan, if he accepts me as his advocate, I shall defend him,’ Fidelma said firmly. ‘He was the prisoner of his circumstance and his fear was great.’
‘But his hand did strike those blows into Dacán’s chest,’ Colgú pointed out.
‘And terror guided his thoughts and lent him the strength. There are degrees of culpability in all things.’
‘Well, the spectre of war has diminished thanks to you, Fidelma.’
‘For this time, at least,’ Fidelma smiled wryly. ‘My mentor, the Brehon Morann of Tara, used to say that the path of mankind through history was preceded by forests and followed by deserts and wastelands.’
‘He was no optimist,’ grinned Colgú.
Fidelma grimaced.
‘If you can divorce yourself from people then you are bound to make the observation that mankind has very little to commend it,’ she said. ‘Great art and philosophy does not come out of the human condition. It arrives in spite of the human condition.’
The chimes of the vesper bell caused them to glance up simultaneously at the abbey’s bell tower. Colgú grinned at his younger sister and placed a brotherly arm around her shoulders.
‘Come, let us go and eat heartily. There is time to be gloomy later. I think it ill behoves you to be the pessimist, little sister.’
Fidelma allowed herself to be led towards the refectory by her brother.
‘Well, the reverse is in pretending that everything is well inlife when we are so wretched. No,’ she held up her hand to stop her brother’s disgruntled protest. ‘I will say no more. Let us go to eat. It was Euripides who said that when one’s stomach is full, contention ceases.’
Brother and sister, arm in arm, turned towards the grey granite buildings of the abbey.