‘But,’ Fidelma’s voice suddenly snapped like a whip, irritated at being interrupted by the young man who knew little of the law, ‘the law recognises that there are circumstances in which the killing of another person is justified. It is not a crime in kill in battle, no crime to kill a thief caught breaking into your house with the intent to steal or render harm to you. The Cairde text also shows that it is permitted to kill in self-defence. Had you brought this matter before me while Lesren still lived, you would have received an immediate divorce and not only half his property but also a considerable recompense. The laws are clear on the protection of women from men, even husbands, and abuse, whether physical or verbal, is treated seriously. You should have pursued that course in law. You did not and your suffering coalesced into a point where you struck back. I cannot pretend that it was correct to kill him but that you did it in self-protection is a defence that must be taken account of.’
They waited in silence while she pondered the matter.
‘It is clear that there has to be a hearing. I must sit in judgement on this matter with the chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda and the abbot. Come back to the Great Hall when you hear the evening Angelus bell striking at the abbey.’
Tómma seemed unhappy but Bébháil inclined her head in agreement.
‘It shall be as you say, lady,’ she said.
Fidelma gave her a brief smile of encouragement. ‘That you have come forward voluntarily with this confession, Bébháil, also stands you in good stead before judgement. Had you not done so, I might have been tempted to waste many days pursuing a wrong path.’
She swung round on Tómma with a frown.
‘You stand in greater peril than Bébháil,’ she said sternly.
The assistant tanner shuffled his feet uneasily but did not reply.
‘The Din Techtugad says that to give false witness is one of the three great crimes that God avenges most severely. A person who is a gúfiadnaise loses his honour price.’
Eadulf was not sure of the legal word she had used and he was glad when Tómma asked her to explain.
‘A person who bears false witness. What made you pick on the name Biobhal?’
Tómma shrugged. ‘As I told you, it was the only name I knew which sounded like Bébháil. I had to think of something to confuse Creoda in case he had heard Bébháil’s name.’
‘But where had you come across this name before? It is unusual, not one that a tanner might readily know.’
Eadulf realised she was stating a simple fact, and not being condescending. There was a purpose behind the question.
Tómma thought for a moment, as if trying to remember in order to answer Fidelma’s question. ‘It was old Liag who told me some story. I can’t remember what about but Biobhal was in it somewhere.’
Fidelma could not help meeting Eadulf’s eye.
‘Liag told you the story. Are you sure?’ she insisted.
‘I am sure. I am sorry that I misled you, lady. I did it only to protect Bébháil.’
‘And did you tell Creoda to advise Gabrán to flee?’
‘I told Creoda that everyone thought Gabrán was the culprit. He took it on himself to advise Gabrán as he did.’
The woman moved forward eagerly. ‘Tómma has been my friend these many years. When I told him what I had done, he was afraid for me and tried to protect me. You must not blame him.’
Accobrán snorted indignantly. ‘The law is the law.’
Fidelma ignored him and smiled in gentle reassurance at the woman. ‘All things will be taken into account, Bébháil. You and Tómma must be in the Great Hall this evening and you must be judged accordingly. But remember, Tómma, that there is always a consequence to our actions. The Gospel of the Blessed James says “How great a matter a little fire kindles.” A word spoken in innocence can do great harm. Remember that.’
The assistant tanner nodded and, taking Bébháil by the arm, left the room.
Accobrán was angry at their departure. ‘They should be imprisoned. You are too lenient, lady. I do not understand. You are a dálaigh but do not follow the law as it is laid down.’
Fidelma regarded him coolly. ‘Sometimes it is better to follow the spirit of the law than the syntax of the law. What do you wish, tanist? An eye for an eye?’
‘The woman confessed to the murder, the man to being her accomplice — yet you have allowed them to go free!’
‘Hardly free. They must return here for judgement.’
Accobrán laughed scornfully. ‘Do you expect them to do so? What Gabrán did, so can they.’
Fidelma was serious, ‘Gabrán fled from fear. These two do not fear the consequences of what they have done. Why would you expect them to flee? It is our law and custom that truth is more important than action. Our laws were written for the obedience of fools and the guidance of the wise.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘That is why I am the dálaigh and you are the tanist. You have much to learn before you take the chieftain’s oath.’
Accobrán glowered. His pride stung. ‘I accept that I am no lawyer. One thing I do not understand was why you seemed more concerned with the man’s lying to you than with the woman’s crime of murder.’
‘The woman killed from fear. I think it is obvious that she was telling the truth about her crime. The law makes allowances for that and though she will be judged to owe compensation and fine for the crime they will probably be cancelled out by the hurt committed by her husband Lesren upon her. But giving false evidence, telling a lie, is something that is abhorred by the law. Is there not an ancient saying that the gods love not a lying tongue? While truth may be bitter, nevertheless truth is great and must prevail.’
‘You seem concerned that Tómma misled you with this name Biobhal. Why would such a name mislead you?’
‘We thought Biobhal…’ began Eadulf, caught Fidelma’s eye, swallowed, and managed to regain his composure before the tanist turned to regard him questioningly. ‘We thought Biobhal was the name of the murderer,’ he ended lamely.
‘Well, it’s not a Cinél na Áeda name,’ replied Accobrán.
‘Probably not,’ Fidelma agreed, dismissing the subject. ‘Didn’t you say that Goll and his wife were also waiting to see me?’
The tanist gave a nod of assent and moved off to summon them. Eadulf waited until he had left.
‘I presume that you did not want him to know about your idea that there is some connection about gold?’
‘You presumed correctly,’ she replied quietly.
‘But with Tómma’s confession that he spoke the first name that came to mind which sounded like Bébháil, you must surely have to change your mind about any such connection?’
Fidelma was serious. ‘The more I think about it, the more I am not so sure. Let us keep this matter of the gold to ourselves for the moment, Eadulf. There are some things here that I find intriguing.’
‘You were not surprised that Lesren was killed by his wife.’
‘I suspected it. I suspected that it was a matter entirely unrelated to the deaths of the three young girls.’
Eadulf grimaced. ‘I don’t see how.’
‘I felt instinctively that young Gabrán could not have had anything to do with Lesren’s death. It was obvious from the day we met Lesren and Bébháil that there was tension between them. But Liag’s chance appearance and the use of the name Biobhal distracted me. Those matters threw a doubt in my mind.’
‘You are too hard on yourself.’
‘I know when I am at fault.’
‘Having seen and recognised your fault, do you not always advise that one must move on without dwelling on it?’
Fidelma smiled benevolently at him, ‘That is true. Sometimes, Eadulf, you know when to say the right thing to help me.’