‘A most complicated business, Fidelma,’ mused Brehon Baithen. ‘You, and of course Brother Eadulf, are to be congratulated on bringing this matter to a successful conclusion.’
Fidelma suddenly grinned; it was her mischievous grin. It had been a long time since she had been able to grin.
‘I think the hound deserves the congratulations. Sometimes dogs are more intelligent than humans.’
Two days later, Fidelma and Eadulf sat stretched before the hearth in their chamber. A fire crackled, keeping out the winter chills. They both sipped mulled wine from goblets replenished from a pottery jug, which stood warming by the fire. Little Alchú was peacefully asleep in a corner of the room. Suddenly, Fidelma uttered a deep sigh.
‘Si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit.’ she said quietly. ‘I remember saying that to Gormán before we started out to Imleach.’
‘If the end is good, everything will be good. What is happening with Gormán and Delia?’
‘Gormán will overcome his sorrow, for that is the way of things. He has no reason to be ashamed of Delia for she is a good mother and a good friend.’
‘Haec olim meminisse iuvabit,’ muttered Eadulf. Time, indeed, was a great healer and most wounds could be healed by its passage. ‘But there is still something that I do not understand. Do you remember when we discussed matters with the council I said that the first mystery was why Sárait took our baby with her that night when she could have left him with one of several women in the palace? And you agreed with me. Yet you said at the hearing that she thought Alchú would protect her from harm. How did you know that?’
‘Like most things, the answer was simple,’ replied Fidelma. ‘Delia confirmed that after Sárait had been raped — by Capa, as we now know — she feared further harm. She believed that no harm would come to her while she was looking after the king’s nephew. Mistakenly she thought the rank of the child would protect her. Hatred is a great leveller. Gobnat hated her too much to let that stand in the way.’
‘And Conrí and his men have departed for their home?’ Eadulf said, after a moment or so of reflection.
Fidelma confirmed it with a nod of her head.
‘Let us hope that some period of peace may now begin between our peoples. And your friend Brehon Dathal has now officially retired to his little rath by the River Suir,’ she added mischievously. Eadulf pulled a face that set her laughing. ‘Anyway, Brehon Baithen is a good man. He will serve my brother well. And so will Caol as new commander of his guard. And tomorrow we are invited to the fair on the green below to see Forindain and his company of crossan play the story of the Faylinn. If there is someone who deserves our sympathy it is the little dwarf who lost his brother. Capa has much to answer for.’
‘Yet slaughter is a warrior’s philosophy and art,’ pointed out Eadulf. ‘We train warriors to kill on our behalf in order to protect our society and us. But in creating the killing instinct in the warrior, surely we create something that is not easily controlled. A warrior can as easily kill on his own behalf, when he feels there is cause, as he can kill for his chief’s cause. Telling a man raised in the philosophy of slaughter not to kill is like telling a bird not to fly. It becomes his first choice as a reaction and not his last. That was Capa’s way of trying to protect himself and Gobnat.’
Fidelma was not convinced.
‘Not all warriors are like that. I have known many who are honourable.’
‘Perhaps. But are they exceptions or the rule? Many are not so honourable and we should not be surprised when they show their nature.’
‘In that case perhaps my brother should not have handed over Cuirgí and Cuán to Conrí. They are certainly trained killers. Of all of them, I felt only Crond had some saving grace, but in the end even he would have killed me.’
‘Which proves my point. Anyway, Conrí is going to have them tried by the Brehon of the Uí Fidgente so that they can be stripped of their chieftainships. He feels that it is a way to heal the wounds between his people and yours.’
‘Let us hope so.’
‘And what of Muirgen and Nessán?’ demanded Eadulf. ‘When do they head back to Sliabh Mis?’
‘If you agree, they will not. I was going to bring this up later. Muirgen will make a very good nurse to young Alchú and my brother has herds on the slopes of Maoldomhnach’s Hill that need a good pastor.’
Eadulf’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘Have they agreed to this?’
Fidelma gave a gesture of affirmation.
‘We now await your approval of the idea. If so, Nessán can head back to Sliabh Mis to make the necessary arrangements for closing their homestead and dispersing their flock before rejoining his wife. Muirgen seems to have taken to life in Cashel with some enthusiasm. And perhaps we can find an orphan for them to foster as their own as well. Perhaps someone for Alchú to go into fosterage with.’
‘Fosterage?’ Eadulf frowned.
‘You know our laws now, Eadulf. When Alchú reaches the age of seven we must send him to fosterage until he is seventeen. Under the law, we must send him to some chieftain or learned person who will tend to his welfare and education. This is our custom, intended to make our people strong by creating bonds between families.’
‘Have I nothing to say in the matter?’ Eadulf felt a pang of his old frustration.
‘Not under our law,’ she replied gently. ‘Alchú is the son of a eu glas, a foreign father, and therefore it is up to me as mother to make the arrangements for fosterage. It is our custom and our law.’
‘Which raises a point…’ began Eadulf.
‘It does,’ said Fidelma, looking suddenly serious. ‘In a few days’ time, our trial marriage comes to an end. The year and a day is up and I shall no longer be a ben charrthach and you will cease to be my fer comtha”
Eadulf knew the terms well. He waited silently. He had known for some time that this day would come.
‘Well, Eadulf, we must make a decision. Do you want me to become a cétmuintir?’
Eadulf looked at her. He realised that she was smiling. A cétmuintir was the first contracted wife. The partner of a permanent relationship. Eadulf put down his goblet of wine and reached out both his hands to her with a growing look of amazement.
‘Let’s talk about it,’ he said softly.