‘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, neverknowing 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.’