The more ancient forms of astrology used by the Druids before the coming of Christianity had fallen out of use because the New Faith had also brought in new forms which were practiced among the Greeks and Romans and originated in Babylon.
“The abbot did not approve of astrology, Sister,” interrupted the steward of the community, Brother Cass, who had been standing quietly by during the initial exchange. “The abbot disliked Brother Eolang on account of his practice of astrology. The abbot had read a passage in one of the Scriptures which denounced astrology and so he took his teaching from it. He tried to forbid its practice within our community.”
Fidelma smiled softly.
“Forbidding anything is a sure way of encouraging it. I thought we were more tolerant in such matters? The art of the réaltóir, the astrologer, has been one that has its origins from the very time our ancestors first raised their eyes to the night sky. It is part of our way of life and even those who have accepted the New Faith have not rejected the fact that God put the stars in the sky for the obedience of fools and the guidance of the wise.”
There was a silence, then Brother Cass spoke again.
“Yet there was an animosity between Eolang and the abbot over this matter.”
“Over a week ago,” commenced the Brehon, “according to certain members of the community, and as they will testify, Brother Eolang became so worried about the animosity that he cast a chart, what is a called a horary chart, to see if he was in any danger from the abbot. He did this because the abbot’s language had grown quite violent in the denunciation of Brother Eolang’s beliefs.”
Fidelma did not make any comment but waited for the Brehon to continue.
“Eolang told certain of his comrades among the brethren that within a week from the time he had cast that chart, he would be dead. The chart, he said, showed that he was powerless against the abbot and would suffer death at his hands either by drowning or poisoning.”
Brehon Gormán sat back with a smile of triumph.
Fidelma regarded him with some skepticism.
“You appear to believe this.”
“I have seen the chart. I am an amateur in such things but my knowledge is such that the accuracy of the prediction becomes obvious. I shall accept it into evidence along with the testimony of those of the brethren with whom Brother Eolang discussed the meaning of it before his death.”
Fidelma considered the matter silently for a moment. Then she turned to Brother Cass.
“Do you have someone available who could take a message to Cashel for me?”
Brother Cass glanced at the Brehon, who frowned.
“What do you propose, Sister Fidelma?”
“Why, since this chart is apparently central to the abbot’s supposed guilt, I would send to Cashel for an expert witness to verify its interpretation.”
“What expert witness?”
“Doubtless, as someone who has dabbled in the art, you have heard of Brother Conchobar, the astrologer of Cashel? He was taught by the famous Mo Chuaróc mac Neth Sémon, the greatest astrologer that Cashel ever produced.”
The Brehon’s frown deepened.
“I have heard of Conchobar, of course. But do we need worry him when everything is so clear?”
“Oh, for the sake of justice,” smiled Fidelma, without humor, “we need to ensure that the abbot has the best defense and that implies someone who is an expert in the evidence against him. You have admitted to having only an amateur’s knowledge. I also have but a passing knowledge so it is best to consult a real expert.”
The Brehon examined her features carefully. A suspicion crossed his mind as to whether she was being facetious. Then he glanced to Brother Cass and inclined his head in approval.
“You may send for Brother Conchobar.”
Sister Fidelma smiled briefly in acknowledgment.
“And if we are to take this star chart seriously as evidence,” she went on as Brother Cass departed on his mission, “then I shall want to have proof that it was drawn up by Eolang at the time it is claimed. I shall want to examine those brethren with whom he discussed it and its conclusions. And, having some slight knowledge of the art, I shall want to see it for myself.”
Brehon Gormán raised an eyebrow.
“It sounds as if you do not trust my judgment?” There was a dangerous quality to his voice.
“You are the Brehon,” Fidelma replied softly.
“When you sit in your court and pronounce your judgment, having heard all the evidence and the plea from myself, as a dálaigh defending my client, then your judgment demands and receives respect. Until that time, I shall presume that you have not made any judgment, for if you had that would have been contrary to law.”
Her features seemed inscrutable but he noticed her green eyes glimmering with an angry fire as they returned his stare.
The Brehon’s cheeks crimsoned.
“I. . of course, I have made no judgment. All that I have done is point out to you that I have accepted this chart as essential evidence. Also that the people to whom Brother Eolang spoke about its conclusions are satisfactory witnesses. The chart and witnesses will be presented to the court.”
“Do you have the chart here?”
“I have it and written on it is testimony as to when it was written and its interpretation in the very hand of Brother Eolang and witnessed.”
“Show me,” demanded Fidelma.
Brehon Gormán drew a vellum from a case and spread it on the table between them.
“Note the date and time and Eolang’s signature in the corner. You will also note that a Brother Iarlug has signed his name as witness and dated it on the same day.”
“This Brother Iarlug is available to testify?”
“Of course, as are Brothers Brugach, Senach and Dubán to whom Eolang spoke of his prediction. They all will testify when this chart was drawn up and when he spoke to them.”
Fidelma pursed her lips skeptically.
“With five of the brethren, including the victim, forewarned of the day when the abbot would commit this alleged murder, it seems a curiosity that Brother Eolang was not given protection against the event.”
Brehon Gormán shook his head, his face serious.
“You cannot alter fate. Fate has no reprieve.”
“That is a concept brought to us by Rome,” Fidelma rebuked. “Our own wise men say that whatever limits us, we call fate. Fate is not something which is inevitable whether we act or not. It is only inevitable if we do not act.”
Brehon Gormán glowered at her for a moment but she was oblivious to his stare.
“Now, let us examine this chart. You may explain it to me, as you confess to be something of an amateur in its deciphering.”
It took a moment or two before Brehon Gormán became involved in the task and, in spite of his antagonism to Fidelma, his voice took on an enthusiastic tone.
“The chart is easy to follow. See here-” He thrust out a finger to the symbols on the vellum.
Sister Fidelma bent over it, silently thanking the time she had spent with old Conchobar learning something of the mysteries of the art.
“It seems that Eolang was so worried that he asked a question ‘Am I in mortal danger from Abbot Rígán?’ This is called a horary question and the chart is timed for the birth of the question. It is like looking at a natal chart but, in this case, it is the birth of the question.”
Fidelma suppressed a sigh of impatience. She knew well what a horary question was. But she held her tongue.
“It seems from the chart that Eolang was ruled by Mercury ruling the Virgo ascendant with the moon as co-ruler. His enemy, the abbot, is represented by the ruler of the seventh house, signified by Jupiter in the seventh house in Pisces.”