There was a silence as she paused.
‘Initially, it was thought that these two events were two separate, unrelated issues, isolated from one another. Then I wondered if there might be some connection, for both incidents shared some common protagonists.’
There was still no sound as she paused again.
‘Prince Cathen, with your permission, I shall approach the explanation of these events by dealing first with the murder of Mair and its outcome-’
‘I object!’ Gwnda was leaning forward in his seat. ‘This matter is not in the competence of this foreigner, no matter what reputation she has in her own land.’
Cathen silenced him with a gesture. ‘I have already ruled on her competence,’ he said sharply. ‘My father has confirmed her qualification to investigate and bring evidence forward in the death of Brother Meurig, and as the barnwr was investigating Mair’s death it seems to me that it is within her competence to put forward her arguments in this matter.’
‘Brother Meurig was killed by Idwal. Idwal had killed Mair. The matter should be closed,’ protested Gwnda.
‘Do you deny that you had second thoughts about Idwal’s guilt?’ Fidelma asked. ‘Your daughter, Elen, thought that Mair had been killed in mistake for her because she had overheard a conversation in the woods which endangered her life. Is that not so? You even agreed that Elen should tell me so.’
Gwnda scowled. ‘I did not share her belief.’
Cathen leaned forward and searched out the frightened features of Elen. ‘Is this true, Elen? Did you make this claim and did your father agree that you were to tell Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf?’
‘It is true,’ Elen agreed unhappily.
Cathen turned back to Fidelma. ‘Then Gwnda’s objection is overruled. Continue.’
Fidelma paused a moment as if putting her thoughts in order before continuing.
‘The seeds of this tragedy — and here I speak of the death of Mair — go back many years. It is best if I tell the story as best I can and, should I place a wrong interpretation on events, then the witnesses gathered here can challenge and correct what I have to say. You will discover that the hand that struck down young Mair was not the same hand that struck down Brother Meurig.’
This caused a stir in the hall, quickly dispelled by a rapping on the table by the scribe.
‘As I say, the seeds of this tragedy were sown many yeas ago, in a place not so far from here called Dinas,’ began Fidelma. Goff stirred uncomfortably. ‘Two young apprentice smiths were working at the forge of Gurgust there. One of those smiths was Goff and the other was Iorwerth, Mair’s father. Gurgust, their smith-master, had a daughter named Efa.’
Elen had bent forward in her seat, a curious expression on her face.
‘Iorwerth made Efa pregnant. In a fury, Gurgust drove his apprentice Iorwerth out. His fury did not abate and he also cast his own daughter from his home. Desperate for security, Efa took up with a wandering warrior, who was thought by most to be the father of her child. I can only speculate on what happened, although I hope the person concerned will have the courage to confirm what I may say in speculation. This warrior took up with Efa but, shortly after the birth of the child, he quarrelled with her. Perhaps he simply did not want to become father to another man’s child.
‘The warrior disappeared and Efa was found strangled. Moreover, her baby had also disappeared. Now Gurgust, in happier days, had made a red gold necklet, with a bejewelled pendant bearing the image of a hare, for his daughter. There was no sign of it and it was thought that whoever killed Efa had stolen it.
‘Some time afterwards a shepherd named Iolo started herding sheep at Garn Fechan. He was raising a boy named Idwal, who was not his son. Here in Llanwnda, Iorwerth the smith married a local girl called Esyllt and had a daughter whom they named Mair. Iorwerth did not treat his wife, Esyllt, well. She subsequently died. In his guilt he became devoted to his daughter. Idwal, foster son of Iolo, was a simple, kindly youth, and he and Mair appeared strangely drawn to one another.’
‘Where is Iorwerth?’ interrupted Gwnda, in a hectoring tone. ‘He should be here to refute this outlandish tale.’
Fidelma turned towards Goff. ‘In the absence of Iorwerth, can you and your wife, Rhonwen, tell this court whether the tale I have told is outlandish so far?’
Goff stared at the ground before him. It was his wife who answered.
‘Your account is correct. You have imagined nothing so far. My husband was the second apprentice at Dinas and, as all should know, Iorwerth’s wife, Esyllt, was my close friend.’
‘What was not known,’ went on Fidelma, ‘was that the attraction between Idwal and Mair was not a sexual one but something which went even deeper. Idwal and Mair were born of the same father but did not know it.’
‘Prove it!’ snapped Gwnda above the hubbub caused by her statement.
‘Just before the old shepherd Iolo died, he gave Idwal something which had been the property of his mother. It was a necklet of red gold with a figure of a hare on it.’
‘Idwal is dead,’ cried Gwnda. ‘You cannot prove any part of this story.’
Fidelma smiled. She turned to Elen.
‘It is true,’ the girl whispered.
‘Speak up, child,’ Cathen said. ‘If you have something to say, let the court hear.’
Elen raised her head. Tears were glistening in her eyes. ‘It is true,’ she said more determinedly. ‘Iolo told Idwal where the necklet had come from. When Idwal was accused of murder, he realised that his precious possession might be taken from him. He wanted to keep it safe and so he gave it to me.’
‘Then where is it?’ demanded Cathen.
Fidelma moved forward, holding it up. ‘Elen passed it to me when she told me how it came into her possession. It is so distinctive that I am sure Goff will recognise it as the one made by his smith-master Gurgust. It was the one worn by Efa all those years ago. Goff and Rhonwen had already described it when they had thought it lost.’
Goff had risen, staring at the necklet. ‘It is the same one,’ he acknowledged in a quiet voice. ‘I would recognise it anywhere.’
There was a yell and a scuffle. Eyes turned to where Iestyn had been sitting. He had been silent all through the hearing, his face immobile. Now he had tried to struggle to his feet, his eyes wide, his face a mask of hate.
‘Are you claiming that Iorwerth was Idwal’s father?’ he shouted. His guard pushed him back into his seat.
‘Iorwerth should be here,’ muttered Gwnda. ‘He should hear this accusation. If what you say is true, he would also recognise this necklet.’
‘He did,’ affirmed Fidelma, without responding to Iestyn. ‘In Brother Eadulf’s company, I showed the necklet to him.’
‘Then where is he?’ demanded Gwnda.
‘Recognising it, realising that Idwal was actually his son by Efa, he became demented. You see, he had actually helped hang his own son for what he thought was the rape and murder of his daughter.’
‘Then where is he now, Sister?’ demanded Cathen. ‘He should have been present in this court.’
Cadell, responding to Fidelma’s gesture, cleared his throat and took a step forward. ‘My prince, his body is now at his forge. On Sister Fidelma’s instructions, I went to a place described by her at first light and found his body beneath a tree where he had hanged himself. His body had been found by Sister Fidelma and Brother Eadulf last night and cut down moments before Clydog captured them.’
There was a gasp of horror from the crowd.