Fidelma nodded slightly in agreement. ‘If I am to defend the king of Connacht, who will prosecute him?’
At that moment, there was a tap on the door and it was swung open by one of the guards to allow a tall man of indiscernible age, clad in robes that denoted high rank, to pass into the chamber. The man halted in mid-chamber and inclined his head in token deference to Colgú. His bright eyes, unblinking, set close to his prominent nose, gave him a stern expression. But as they alighted on Fidelma, his thin lips parted in a smile of greeting.
‘I have heard your reputation has much increased since our last meeting at Ferna, in the kingdom of Laigin, Fidelma of Cashel,’ he said.
‘A reputation that is undeserved, Barran,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Only my few successes seem to be talked about and not my many failures.’
The Chief Brehon’s smile broadened. ‘Your success at Ferna and our previous encounter at Ros Alithir was a clear demonstration that your reputation is well deserved. However, I did not expect to meet you before I was due to congratulate you after your wedding.’ He glanced to Colgú and Baithen, whom he had already encountered on his arrival. His mouth twisted into a grimace. ‘Your messenger has informed me of the matter in hand.’
Colgú waved Barrán to a chair.
‘Have you been told why I have asked you to join us?’ he asked.
Barrán made an affirmative gesture. ‘You wish me to preside at the hearing of Muirchertach Nár for the murder of Abbot Ultán of Cill Ria?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘I accept, of course. As Muirchertach Nár is king of the cóicead of Connacht it is, perhaps, lucky that I am here for reasons that have more to do with politics than with justice.’
Colgú smiled.
‘An observation already made, Barrán,’ he said. ‘Muirchertach Nár has demanded his right to choose his advocate and he has chosen Fidelma.’
Barrán glanced quickly at her. ‘Have you responded to this request?’
‘I have agreed, although Muirchertach Nár is not yet informed of that decision,’ Fidelma replied.
‘Again, that is good from a political viewpoint so far as Connacht is concerned. It is also good for justice so far as Muirchertach Nár is personally concerned, for he is now assured of an able advocate. Now, who is to prosecute this matter?’
‘I asked that same question before you arrived, Barrán,’ Fidelma replied.
Baithen stirred uneasily. ‘The crime was committed here in Cashel and in the palace of the king. Even though I am a witness, it behoves me to prosecute as brehon of Muman.’
Fidelma looked thoughtful.
‘Would you not be excluded from one role or the other?’ she asked mildly. ‘I would have thought the berrad airechta, the law on persons excluded from giving evidence, would be the basis for challenging you on this.’
Baithen was surprised. ‘Are you challenging my right to prosecute? On what point of law?’
‘If you are a witness, it conflicts with your role as prosecutor, for as prosecutor it is to your advantage to secure a conviction. A man cannot give evidence if it could bring advantage to himself. That is the law.’
Baithen shrugged indifferently. ‘Then I shall not stand as witness but rely on the testimony of Caol who saw exactly what I saw. No contradiction in that.’
Barrán sighed and shook his head. ‘I have to rule on this, Baithen, and say that Fidelma’s argument is sound in law. You cannot deny that you are a witness. What you have already seen cannot be unseen and therefore you are prejudiced. As she says, it is a prosecutor’s function to secure a conviction. That may lead a witness to zealousness in his evidence.’
Baithen accepted the point with good grace.
‘But there must be a prosecutor,’ he pointed out. ‘It should be someone of distinction and certainly not a judge from the retinue of the northern kingdoms.’
‘That is agreed,’ replied Barrán. ‘I propose Brehon Ninnid, the new brehon of Laigin. He is of the Uí Dróna of the southern part of that kingdom. Laigin is the only independent voice in these matters. Ninnid has accompanied his king, Fianamail, here for the ceremony. That, again, is most fortunate.’
Fidelma was frowning.
‘I presume that he is better qualified than Bishop Forbassach?’ she asked cynically.
Barrán uttered a brittle laugh. ‘Indeed. Thanks to your case against him at Ferna, Bishop Forbassach was stripped of his rank, retired to some small community and prohibited from the practice of law. King Fianamail had to choose a new brehon and in this matter he sought my advice. I can vouch that young Ninnid is talented and has made a name for himself as an assiduous prosecutor. It is true that with youth comes arrogance but he will grow out of that, I am sure. But now is the time to voice any objections to his appointment, before he is instructed.’
Baithen seemed indifferent while Colgú said: ‘I have no knowledge to make an objection. If you recommend him, then I accept. What do you say, Fidelma?’
‘A brehon of Laigin is a logical choice,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘Perhaps the only choice, for he represents neither the kingdom of the victim, the kingdom of the accused nor the kingdom in which it happened. Therefore, ideally, he will be an unbiased prosecutor.’ She glanced through the window at the still dark sky and then rose from her seat. ‘I’d better inform Eadulf that the wedding is now delayed. And, of course, I shall ask Eadulf for his assistance in my investigation, if you have no objection, Barrán.’
The Chief Brehon shook his head. ‘I would expect no less. Brother Eadulf’s work is known and his name is now inseparably linked to your own.’
‘Then it is agreed.’ Colgú sighed. ‘There is nothing left but to announce this sad news to our guests. The ceremonies must be postponed until this matter is resolved.’ Colgú paused and smiled in sympathy at Fidelma. ‘Let us hope that it will be but a short delay.’
Barrán was sympathetic. ‘This is hard on you, Fidelma, but I know that you will bring this matter to a quick conclusion. We cannot allow all these distinguished guests to linger in Cashel for more than a few days.’
‘Law and justice move along in their own time,’ Fidelma rebuked him softly. ‘I, above all our distinguished guests, regret the delay, but I am the first to argue that no man should be exonerated or condemned simply because it interferes with our plans.’
With a quick nod to encompass them all, Fidelma turned and left the chamber.
‘I am beginning to believe that there is some truth in old Brother Conchobhar’s prognostications,’ Eadulf finally said, after Fidelma had explained everything. She had gone to his chamber and woken him, making sure he was fully awake before explaining the events of recent hours.
‘He was claiming that the portents were not good for our marriage this day,’ she agreed.
There was a silence between them and faintly came the sound of the chapel bell calling the religious to the first prayers of the day. Fidelma smiled wanly, glanced into a mirror and adjusted her hair with an automatic gesture.
‘Well, from what we have heard about Abbot Ultán, it did not need any divination to know that there was going to be trouble in the offing.’
‘True,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘It is a pity that Caol took Dego away from his sentinel duties. I can understand it but I hope it does not mean that Caol will be in trouble.’
‘My brother has taken full responsibility.’
‘I told you that Brother Berrihert uttered a threat against Ultán’s life in front of Brother Conchobhar and me?’
‘I have not forgotten. But do not forget that the murder happened after the gates of the fortress were closed for the night. That much Caol told me. Your Saxon friends have accommodation in one of the hostels in the town, so they would not have been admitted here after the gates were closed.’