Chapter Twenty-Three
The Great Hall of Cashel was crowded as Fidelma entered with Eadulf. Everyone was dressed formally for the occasion. Even Eadulf was wearing his best apparel and carrying his pilgrim’s staff which he now used to enhance his status. It was an egocentricity on his part.
Eadulf smiled at Fidelma as he turned to take his place with those members of the court who were there merely as observers. Great importance was attached to procedure in the Irish courts and Eadulf had come to understand many of what he had regarded previously as mysteries.
Fidelma had crossed to the centre of the hall to take a seat alongside Solam, the dálaigh of the Uí Fidgente. He sat next to Donennach, his Prince. Litigants always sat with their advocates in what was the airecht airnaide, the court of waiting.
Directly opposite and facing them were three chairs behind a long, low table on which were piled several law texts. These chairs were reserved for the Brehons or judges. They constituted the airecht, the court itself. Behind the seats for the judges, on a dais at the head of the hall, was Colgú, seated on his ornately carved chair of office, and next to him, on his right-hand side, was Ségdae, who sat not as abbot but as bishop and Comarb of Ailbe, the First Apostle of the Faith in Muman. On the left-hand side, sat Colgú’s ollamh, Cerball, his chief bard and adviser. These three, the foremost men of the kingdom, were known as the cúl-airecht, the back court, overseeing that justice was done.
To the right of the King’s seat were benches on which sat the táeb-airecht, the side court, which constituted scribes and historians who were to record the events, together with the petty kings and nobles, led by Donndubháin., the tanist, Finguine of Cnoc Aine and others who were to witness the proceedings to ensure that the kingdom acquitted itself properly and according to law.
On the left-hand side was the airecht fo leithe, the court apart, in which were gathered all the potential witnesses. Here was seated, among others, Brother Mochta. It had surprised Eadulf to find that Brother Mochta had been named by Solam as his principal witness against Muman. Even more surprising was the fact that the reliquaryof Ailbe had been placed under safekeeping. Brother Madagan was also seated, ready to be called as a witness, as were Brother Bardan, Nion the bó-aire of Imleach, Gionga and Capa.
Eadulf saw that the appearance of Mochta and the reliquary did not surprise Fidelma. She had assumed her seat quietly and sat, hands folded in her lap, gazing before her without focusing on any one object. Eadulf felt annoyed with her. Since she had revealed that she believed she knew the answer to the mystery, she had steadfastly refused to explain anything further to him. He felt unhappy. These last weeks he had the sense that Fidelma was becoming more irritable than usual, less open to confiding in him. He had come to regard himself as her ‘soul friend’, an anam-chara which every religious of Eireann had to discuss their temporal and spiritual problems with. It made him unhappy when she did not confide in him.
Colgú’s steward came forward with his staff of office and banged it three times on the floor to bring the court to order. It drew Eadulf from his sad speculations.
The Brehon of Cashel, Dathal, was the first of the judges to enter the court, according to protocol, because the court was sitting in Cashel. Dathal was not known as the ‘nimble one’ for nothing. His nickname applied to the quickness of his mind in legal matters. He was not a young man, but his hair had not yet turned grey. His dark eyes were penetrating and moved rapidly around, missing nothing; if they looked directly at you they seemed to penetrate right through. He was thin, lean and almost sallow. He was quick to anger and he did not accept fools gladly, especially if they were advocates pleading before him. He moved rapidly to the judges’ bench and took his seat on the right-hand side.
Fachtna, the Brehon of the Uí Fidgente, followed quickly, taking his seat on the left. He was a little older than Dathal. He was also tall and almost emaciated in his appearance. His flesh was drawn tightly over his bony features so that it resembled more of a skull than a face. His skin was parchment-like with a crimson slash on both cheekbones. The eyes were grey, restless, and his lips were a thin slit of red. His hair was grey, parted in the centre, and drawn smoothly back and gathered with a ribbon. He gave the appearance of being in need of a good meal.
Last came the Brehon Rumann of Fearna who took the central seat. Indeed, he would not only be chief of the judges but would undoubtedly make the decisions, for it seemed likely to all who gathered in the Great Hall that the judgements of the Brehons of Cashel and the Uí Fidgente would be biased to reflect the wishes of their respective Princes.
As the Brehon Rumann moved to his seat, he did not look like a judge at all. He was short in stature and corpulent in his face and figure. He wore his silver hair long so that it fell in curls around the nape of his neck. The flesh of his benign features was like the fresh, pink skin of a child, newly scrubbed. The lips were red and full as if he were given to enhancing them with berry juice. The eyes were hazel yet with a brightness that made one think at first glance that they were of a pale colour. He had a general air of geniality about him. In spite of his companions, it was Rumann who dominated the scene. He exuded an air of quiet authority that commanded silence.
When he had seated himself and a hush had fallen in the Great Hall, the steward banged once more on the floor with his staff of office. Abbot Ségdae rose. He raised his hand, holding up his first, third and fourth finger to represent the Holy Trinity. Eadulf had almost grown used to this difference to the Roman usage where the thumb, first and second finger were held up in the same symbolism.
‘Benedictio benedicatur per Jesum Christum Dominum nostrum. Surgite!’
The blessing and the instruction to the court to ‘rise’ marked the beginning of the proceedings.
The Brehon Rumann duly banged the table before him with a small wooden gavel. His voice was soft but commanding.
‘The five paths of judgement are embarked upon. This day was fixed for this hearing and the proper path of judgement was chosen. The securities have been given by the King of Muman and the Prince of the Uí Fidgente. Before we come to the tacrae, the opening statements of the advocates, I have to ask both advocates whether they are ready to proceed. It is their right at this time to make any request for a taurbaid, a postponement, of these proceedings.’
He looked first at Fidelma and then at Solam.
‘I need not remind you that any postponement at this point must be supported by a good reason. The observance of a religious festival, an illness, a bereavement or other such matters will constitute a reasonable excuse.’
When he paused, Solam smiled officiously. ‘We stand ready to press our case,’ he announced.
‘And we are ready to respond to it,’ replied Fidelma.
‘Excellent. As you may have realised, I shall be the voice of all three judges here today. You will address your remarks to me. As neither of you have appeared in my court before, I feel that I must tell you how I expect you to behave. I do not tolerate bad pleading in my court and I adhere to the letter of the Cóic Conara Fugill.’
Eadulf knew well that this was the main book of instruction on procedures known as ‘the five paths of judgement’.
‘I will order any advocate to pay a fine who speaks in an undertone so that I cannot hear clearly what has been said; any advocate who tries to incite the court, or who loses their temper, or who argues in too loud a voice and abuses anyone; any advocate who opposes a known fact or starts to praise themselves. The fine for all such offences will be as prescribed by law — the sum of one séd.’