A séd was the value of one cow. It was a harsh fine. Inwardly Eadulf groaned. The Brehon Rumann was not going to be an easy judge before whom to argue.
There was almost a breathless silence in the court now.
‘Let the tacrae begin.’
Solam rose to his feet, nervous, birdlike in his motions. ‘Before I begin my plea, I must raise a protest.’
The hush that had fallen was like a moment of calm before a storm breaks with all its fury.
The tones of the Brehon Rumann became icy. ‘A protest?’
‘It is ordained in the procedures governing a court that litigants should sit with their advocates. Next to me sits the Prince of the Uf Fidgente, who is the plaintiff in this case.’
A scowl passed across the cherubic-like features of the Brehon, turning that soft, chubby countenance into a hard, angry glare. ‘Is there a point to this?’
‘Behind you sits the other litigant in this case, the defendant, who is the King of Muman.’
Behind the judges, Eadulf could see Colgú stir with embarrassment. The King was not allowed to speak during the proceedings except in exceptional circumstances.
Brehon Rumann’s eyes had widened. For a moment he seemed about to protest and then Fachtna, the judge of the Uf Fidgente, with a sardonic smile of approval towards Solam, leant across to Rumann.
‘The advocate has a strong legal point in procedural rules. A litigant must be seated with his advocate. No exceptions are made in the texts. As defendant the King should be seated next to his dálaigh.’
‘Yet the same rules stipulate where the King must sit,’ pointed out Dathal from the other side of Rumann. ‘We are in the kingdom of Muman and at the King’s seat of Cashel. How can the King not sit in the place ordained by law?’
‘Yet the law says that his place, as defendant, is with his advocate,’ insisted Fachtna with his irritating smile. ‘The King is expected to observe the law with the meanest members of his kingdom.’
Rumann raised his hands as if to pacify his fellow judges. ‘I wouldargue that one cannot impose law on the King. I can refer to heptads and triads of the ancient law books which advise that no one can stand in surety for a King for if the King defaults then the person standing surety has no means to secure compensation, for the King’s honour is more important than any claim.’
‘Are you saying that the Prince of the Uí Fidgente is incorrect in bringing a legal claim against the King of Muman?’ demanded Fachtna, his voice brittle. ‘Are you saying that no legal claim can be made against a King? If that is so, we are wasting time sitting in judgement here. No, I cannot agree to that argument.’
Fidelma rose and cleared her throat.
‘You wish to add something, Fidelma of Cashel?’ asked the Brehon Rumann, watching her with interest.
‘Learned judges-’ Fidelma bowed her head to the Brehons — ‘while, of course, the Brehon Rumann is correct in that the law advises that people should not stand surety for a King, it does not forbid it.’
Fachtna actually smiled broadly. ‘Do I understand that the advocate of Cashel agrees with me? That the King must be recognised as a litigant, as the defendant in this case, and must sit before the judges and not behind them?’
‘There are three questions there, Fachtna,’ replied Fidelma solemnly. ‘If you are supporting Solam’s protest then my answer is — no, I do not agree. And your last question does not therefore follow from your first question.’
Fachtna was puzzled, not sure as to where Fidelma was leading.
Rumann made a curious hissing of his breath demonstrating his vexation at not understanding her answers. ‘The advocate for Cashel should make herself clear. What is she saying?’ he grumbled.
‘May I remind the learned Brehons,’ went on Fidelma, ‘that the law texts do describe the method of balancing a King’s honour with his legal accountability?’
Rumann’s eyes narrowed in his chubby face. ‘Remind us,’ he invited shortly. There seemed a hidden threat in his voice.
‘It is given in a text on the four divisions of distraint. For legal purposes the King may be represented by a substitute, the aithech fortha, and through the substitute it is possible to make a legal claim against the King without the King having to endure the dishonour of removing himself from office or suffering distraint.’ Fidelma smiled serenely at the Brehons. ‘I would have thought, instead of making a protest at this time, before this case came before you, the learned Solam would have, on behalf of the plaintiff, ensured the King was so represented here; that a substitute be appointed to sit in this chair-’she indicated the empty chair where the defendant should have sat — ‘as symbolic of representing the King.’
A ripple of amusement went through the great hall in support of Fidelma.
Solam was flushing in anger. He began to rise.
The Brehon Rumann gestured for Solam to remain seated while Brehon Dathal was clearly delighted.
‘Does anyone in the court object to a substitute being seated in the chair of the defendant?’ he asked. ‘Does anyone object to a substitute who will be the physical representative of the King being seated before us?’
Brehon Rumann sniffed in annoyance. It was clear that he had not recalled the law and while Fidelma had scored a legal point, Eadulf could see that it had not placed her in good standing with the Chief Brehon. The displeasure of the Brehon Fachtna was obvious to everyone.
‘I see no reason to simply place a body in the chair. We may proceed on the grounds that the empty seat is symbolically representing the kingship of Muman.’ Rumann’s voice was peevish. ‘Now, are there any other protests or counter-claims or may we proceed to the substance of these proceedings?’
Solam cleared his throat and rose again hurriedly.
‘I am in accord with you, noble Brehon,’ he began, forcing a smile, as he attempted to pour oil on the troubled waters he had raised. ‘I believe in the formality of these procedures for which you argued in your opening address to this court. Correct procedure is no cause for levity.’
‘We are so pleased that you agree with the court’s ruling,’ interposed the Brehon Dathal sarcastically.
Brehon Rumann’s face had assumed a stony composure and it was not clear whether Solam’s attempt to mollify his irritability had succeeded or not.
There was a pause and when Rumann did not say anything further, Solam continued.
‘Learned judges, this is a serious matter that I bring before you. It is no less than a case of attempted duinetháide of assassination of the Prince of the Uf Fidgente. The charge is made against the King of Muman and those acting on his behalf and at his request. We allege that Colgú of Cashel conspired with others to kill Prince Donennach!’
Solam paused and glanced around, as if expecting some reaction to his opening statement. The silence in the Great Hall was marked. There was no reaction. Everyone in Cashel knew what the hearing was about.
Brehon Rumann was still snappish. ‘You will doubtless proceed to tell us the facts behind your charge?’ he asked acidly.
Solam adjusted his composure. ‘Learned judges-’ he paused and cleared his throat, then pressed on — ‘it was on the feastday of Ailbe, the patron of this kingdom, that my Prince, Donennach, came with a small party to Cashel to discuss ways and means of cementing the friendship between his dynasty of the Dál gCais and the Eóghanacht of Cashel. Colgú of Cashel had met Donennach at the Well of Ara with a small retinue and conducted him and his party to Cashel. Donennach came in peace and friendship and in innocence.’