Fidelma now rose and smiled quickly at the King. Then she took out the hazel wand of office, the wand of a techtaire or ambassador, that she had been carrying ever since she had picked it up from the deck of the Barnacle Goose, where it had fallen from Bressal’s nerveless fingers.
‘This is the symbol of office of an ambassador, which the people of Hibernia hold sacred, and which sacred office was violated. It fell from the hand of Bressal, who came to you in peace. He came to conclude a treaty with your kingdom and mine. As sister to my brother, Colgú, King of Muman in the land of Hibernia, I now pick it up and claim that role.’
‘Your rank and position are recognised here,’ conceded King Alain.
‘Your courtesy is only exceeded by your wisdom, Alain, King of the Bretons,’ she replied. ‘I thank you. Let me make it plain that I am not here to prosecute in your court. I am an advocate of the laws of my country but that does not give me the knowledge to plead in your laws, which I freely admit remain unknown to me. What I would wish is to be allowed to present to those gathered here some facts. Should they be accepted and it is felt that there is a charge to be answered under your laws, I merely hand these facts to you. To you, Kaourentin, so that you may pursue them to a logical conclusion within the constraints of your law.’
The elderly man gazed at her with his dark suspicious eyes.
‘These facts that you have gathered by means of investigation — did this involve the questioning of people?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘What authority had you to do so?’ Kaourentin smiled thinly. ‘Again, it is our law that no foreigner can come into our kingdoms and use subterfuge and guile to extract information to present for legal use.’
‘Subterfuge and guile? That is a strange way of putting it,’ Fidelma observed.
‘A law nevertheless. So you admit that you have no authority to have made such an investigation?’
‘I did not concede that I had no authority to do so.’ Fidelma glanced meaningfully at Riwanon, who flushed slightly.
‘She acted under my authority, I think,’ the wife of Alain Hir announced.
Kaourentin, his brows drawn, turned to her. ‘You say that you think she acted on your authority? How is this?’
‘I told her to find out who killed Abbot Maelcar.’
‘Hah!’ Kaourentin exclaimed. ‘May I remind you that the charge against Macliau, son of Lord Canao, is that he murdered the girl called Argantken?’
‘The charge is further that he is the person behind the Koulm ar Maro, the sea raiders, and thereby responsible for all the deaths that occurred here,’ Fidelma reminded him.
‘The Queen has said that she told you only to find out who killed Abbot Maelcar,’ quibbled the bretat.
‘If it makes it clearer, Riwanon reiterated her authority on the very morning Ceingar was killed and when Trifina and Iuna were abducted, which authority included the other deaths,’ Fidelma told the old judge calmly, but wondered whether he was being pedantic or obstructive. ‘The words used in front of Budic and of Eadulf were that I had “complete authority” to do so.’
King Alain made an irritated sound and bent forward.
‘My wife has explained this, Kaourentin. If that is not enough, then her authority is now confirmed by my own authority for, my wife in our law, always acts under my name.’ He spoke sharply, clearly annoyed by this legal attempt to stop Fidelma speaking after he had given his permission for her to do so.
‘Forgive me, sire.’ Kaourentin was bowing to him. His voice was suave. ‘It is my duty to instruct in the law and ensure that all is done according to its principles.’
‘Having done so,’ King Alain replied in a heavy tone, ‘may we finally proceed?’
Kaourentin inclined his head and, sitting down, added: ‘Speak, Fidelma of Hibernia. But remember that the primary reason we are gathered here is to hear the case against Macliau, son of Lord Canao, and consider his defence.’
Fidelma allowed the ripple of voices to spread through the great hall and eventually die away. She liked to concentrate her mind for a few moments when she was about to present a case before the Brehons of her own country. She realised that she would be limited in what she had to claim, since she had none of the legal supports of her own laws to back her. She was not even sure that she would be able to cross-examine any of the people she wanted to. But for the sake of justice she had to pursue this course with all the eloquence that she could command. It was her duty.
‘I did not come willingly to your country,’ she began quietly but firmly.
She paused for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts again, but Fidelma had an advocate’s sense of the dramatic.
‘My companion, Eadulf, and I were returning to our own country of Hibernia on a ship called the Barnacle Goose. On board that ship was my cousin, a prince of my country, Bressal of Cashel, who had but lately conducted a treaty of trade with King Alain and was en route home with a cargo of salt from the salt pans at Gwenrann. An old friend of mine, Murchad of Aird Mhór, captained the ship. We were sailing near the island called Hoedig when we were attacked by another ship. That ship had a dove carved on its bow and flew a white banner from its stern, on which was the emblem of a dove. We were forced to surrender after one of the crew and the first mate were killed. After that surrender, the commander of this hostile vessel, a person dressed in white and masked, murdered my cousin in cold blood and then murdered the captain. Both of them were unarmed and were making verbal protest, my cousin showing the emblem of his office at the time.’
She paused once more.
‘I shall not go into many details. Eadulf and I were about to be slaughtered so, to save our lives, we were forced to jump overboard. Brother Metellus, like a guardian angel, came sailing by and rescued us. Eventually he brought us to the Abbey of Gildas. There I saw evidence that our captured ship must have put in close to these shores.’
Aourken was nodding in her seat.
‘I also learned that the emblem of a dove was known as the standard of the mac’htiern of Brilhag. Subsequently I discovered that there had been raids on farmsteads, an attack on merchants and several deaths attributed to these same pirates who acted under that flag. Both the ship and the leader of the raiders were referred to as the Koulm ar Maro, the Dove of Death.’
Canao now leaned forward in his seat. He spoke loudly and firmly.
‘Let it be recorded that the mac’htiern of Brilhag clearly and completely denies that any of his followers have acted in the manner described, and that these deeds were not committed by anyone who was legally entitled to serve under the emblem of his family.’
Fidelma turned and inclined her head towards him as there came an outburst of angry murmuring from the direction of Barbatil, Coric and their friends.
‘But let us agree that the pirates used the standard of Lord Canao of Brilhag during their raids,’ she stated.
Barbatil rose to his feet and spoke rapidly, his words quickly translated.
‘There are many of us,’ he waved his hand to indicate his supporters in the hall, ‘farmers, and others, who have witnessed attacks by warriors carrying that now accursed banner bearing a dove as its emblem. We should be protected by the lord of Brilhag and yet, for these last two weeks, we have been persecuted by him!’
‘You are out of order!’ shouted the rasping voice of Kaourentin.