‘And was this explained to Gorman?’ she asked. ‘Did he know the rights of an aintengthaid?’ The legal term meant a ‘tongueless person’ who was not qualified to plead in law, but nonetheless could do so at the invitation and advice of the Brehon. ‘I was not aware that Gorman had knowledge of law to enable him to know his rights and make the right decision.’
Brehon Faolchair stared at her, a look of dawning comprehension on his face.
‘I did not think it necessary to inform him of his rights, being that he was in the service of the King of Cashel and I presumed he knew them.’
‘Even though there is a legal obligation on you to do so? And did you, Brehon Faolchair, go through the necessary formalities by depositing five unga of silver, in whatever form, to serve as a pledge for the support of your judgement if that judgement was subsequently challenged?’
Even Eadulf, who knew an unga was equivalent to an ounce, began to understand her thinking. She was moving towards an appeal against the judgement. He remembered that the law texts said a judgement had to be defended by pledges in case of an appeal.
‘I did not put forward such a pledge,’ admitted Brehon Faolchair. ‘I have to admit that no such judgement has yet been formally given.’
‘Are you saying that there has been no such judgement?’ Fidelma was astounded. ‘I thought that it was that very judgement that was the reason for our gathering here. You must explain this to me.’
Brehon Faolchair did his best to look contrite but there was a hidden smile on his lips. ‘A hearing was held at which the evidence was heard. It seemed that there was little defence for the accused to be made. But as for a formal judgement, it was felt that this should be delayed until we could discuss the merits of the system under which the accused could be judged. This is the conversation that we have been pursuing.’
Fidelma realised that Prince Donennach and his Brehon were either displaying a lack of knowledge of the law or that they were playing a secret game in which they were enticing her to use her knowledge of law to outwit the arguments about which law the punishment should follow.
She spoke up. ‘A hearing is subject to the law as it stands. Therefore I shall claim the faircsi dligid, the appeal before the law, that this case has not been properly heard, let alone judged. That being so, Gorman’s guilt or innocence has yet to be decided.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Abbot Nannid was on his feet, his face contorted and red with anger.
‘This is ridiculous! We know the man is guilty. Are we going to waste time going through the matter all again?’
Fidelma continued to keep her focus on Brehon Faolchair.
‘According to the Bretha im Fuillema Gell, the Law of Appeals, I make my formal submission to Prince Donennach and his Brehon. I argue that the case against Gorman must now be heard with all due legal formality. I will give my own pledge of five unga of silver to represent Gorman for this hearing.’
‘This is nonsense!’ shouted Abbot Nannid. ‘Gorman had time to make his own appeal and did not do so. He remains guilty.’
‘Am I in error of the law, Brehon Faolchair?’ Fidelma asked.
Brehon Faolchair, who clearly had no respect for Abbot Nannid, did not hide his smile as he answered. ‘You are not in error, lady. I accept that the proper procedures were not observed and therefore no legal hearing was made and so no judgement was given. You are therefore entitled to question all the witnesses and prepare a defence for Gorman before a new hearing.’
‘The facts are known.’ Abbot Nannid almost bellowed. ‘There is no defence. Can it be that an Ui Fidgente prince is simply afraid of facing Eoghanacht displeasure? We demand the pronouncement of the punishment!’
Prince Donennach rose and the room gradually fell silent.
‘I will forget those words, Nannid of Mungairit,’ he said in stern reproof. ‘Had they been spoken by any other than a churchman of your rank then you would expect to defend them by sword for daring to question my honour. I am minded that you are a distant cousin to me, so I will say this to you: when the correct legal procedures are carried out, then – and only then – shall a judgement be rendered in accordance to the law. Do I make myself clear?’
Abbot Nannid held himself back for a moment and then the habitual sneer reappeared.
‘You have made yourself perfectly clear and I will await the outcome of such a new hearing when doubtless our distinguished guest from Cashel will find a means to prove that this warrior was nowhere near this fortress when the murder took place and that-’
‘Abbot Nannid! You presume upon your office!’ It was Conri who moved forward with his hand on his sword hilt. Prince Donennach waved him back.
Only then did Abbot Nannid seem to realise that he might have gone too far. He bent his head. ‘I apologise,’ he said, his voice not conveying the meaning of his words. ‘I allowed strong words to reflect my concern that a killer of a saintly abbot might find escape through an advocate with a smooth tongue. With your permission, I will withdraw from the evening’s meal and proceed to the abbey so that I can spend the night in contemplation and prayer for the hope that those guilty of crimes may receive their due.’
‘In the circumstances, it would not be of benefit for you to continue here when the purpose of this meal was to sit and drink and eat in friendship prior to discussing ways of coming to an amicable agreement on this matter of contention,’ agreed Prince Donennach without emotion.
Abbot Nannid turned and, followed by his steward, Brother Cuineain, he left the hall.
There were a few moments of silence before the prince resumed his seat and looked sadly at the newcomers.
‘I extend my apologies to you, Fidelma of Cashel, to you, Eadulf and to you, Prior Cuan. However, you see demonstrated the dilemma that I find myself in. Gorman must be tried by the law of the land. Frankly, I can see nothing so far that gives me any sign that we have over-estimated his guilt in the matter. I am still left with the final judgement – a judgement under the law of the land. If guilty, then we must return to this vexed matter of punishment, and whatever path is chosen there will be conflict.’
‘Well, at least the lady Fidelma has provided us with some respite,’ Brehon Faolchair pointed out. There was relief in his voice but no happiness. He turned to Fidelma and forced a smile. ‘Thankfully you seized the opportunity that I allowed by purposely failing to fulfil my legal obligations. You have now bought us several more days to consider the matter before a decision is made and we are plunged once more into argument and aggression.’
While Eadulf was surprised by Brehon Faolchair’s admission, Fidelma was not. She had suspected that a Brehon of Faolchair’s standing would not have neglected the legal rules. Obviously, he had been hoping that she would recognise the legal point to give Prince Donennach some extra time to consider if there was a solution that would avert trouble.
Fidelma inclined her head in acknowledgment of the Brehon’s sleight of hand. ‘Then tomorrow I will begin to question the witnesses to this matter.’
‘You will want to see Gorman first, no doubt?’ asked Brehon Faolchair.
She shook her head. ‘As Gorman is the accused in this matter, it is often best to hear from those who have witnessed what he is accused of; to hear their stories first. This puts an advocate in a better position to examine the accused. I shall visit him after I have seen the witnesses.’
‘Well, there are only two witnesses to the event. Brother Tuaman there and one of the warriors called Lachtna.’