Augaire gave an angry hiss, which Fidelma ignored.
“Thank you for your honesty, Berrach,” she said softly. “It is hard to acknowledge the faults of one’s offspring.”
Augaire had stood up with two or three of his young friends and they were moving toward the door.
“Stop!” cried Fidelma. “You have no permission to leave.”
Augaire glanced back, mockingly.
“You have no authority in this place, woman of Cashel,” he sneered. “You can resume your cackling to others but I am a chief’s son and will do what I like. No woman who hides behind religious robes will tell me what to do.”
He turned and urged his companions to leave with him.
“Warriors! Stop them!”
It was Cúan’s sharp voice that echoed through the hall. Two of his warriors came forward and barred the young men’s path. The chief was shaking with rage.
“That my own son shames me thus!” he growled. “You and your sycophants will return to your seats and will not leave until you have permission. Had you concentrated on your education you would know that the powers of a dálaigh, and the powers of the sister of our king, Colgú of Cashel, are not to be challenged lightly. Your ignorance puts shame not only on me as chief, but on our family, on our clan. That display of ignorance is demonstration of why you will never be elected as chief nor will you ever be able to aspire to any office. You are worthless!”
The silence in the hall was deathly. Augaire and his youthful companions returned to sit in white-faced silence as Cúan rebuked them.
“Fidelma of Cashel, accept my apologies. I know that apologies are not enough for this insult to your office. We stand ready to pay the fine.”
Fidelma nodded gravely.
“Let Augaire rise from his seat and face me.”
The young man hesitated, bringing forth the sharp cry “Augaire!” from his father. Augaire rose to his feet, sullen and defiant.
“Know this, young man, and spread light in the darkness of your ignorance. Insult is regarded with the utmost seriousness in our law. I am now talking about insult to office, for I am a dálaigh, conducting a murder inquiry. In that respect, even a king has to accept that I take precedence in the procedure. The law text called the Bretha Nemed déidenach is quite clear on the ways of insulting people and the penalties that are incurred. Any offense relating to insult requires the payment of the honor price of the person insulted.”
“Lady!” The cry was wrung from Berrach. “The boy does not have such a sum. You are sister to the king and also a dálaigh of renown. That means your honor price is at least seven cumals, the value of twenty-one milch cows. I know that the law then says if he does not or cannot pay he must lose all rights and freedoms until he works to gain sufficient funds in order to pay the honor price. He will become a servant without honor or land. Is there no other way? No other way?”
Augaire had gone pale as he listened to his mother’s plea, perhaps realizing for the first time the enormity of his offense.
Fidelma stood thoughtful for a moment.
“The offense cannot be ignored, for it is written in the law that the king or chieftain who tolerates insult must themselves lose their honor price,” she said. “The boy may be immature and stupid but he is two years older than the age of choice and should know right from wrong. However, there is a way in which the boy himself may reduce the penalty. Sincere apology made in the presence of those who were also present when the insult was made may reduce the proscribed fine.”
“He will apologize, lady,” Berrach said, moving anxiously forward, but Fidelma held up her hand.
“An apology made while the blood is still tempered and there still exists anger is not valid. Augaire has been forced to return, to stand, and there he is, brooding and sullen. Knowing the penalty, he will say words without meaning. Let him sit down and wait for this hearing to end. Let him think of his responsibility, for the three young men whom he led from this place did not know what they were doing but followed him out of misguided loyalty-therefore, the penalty is his, not theirs. Let others advise him of the law and the fines and why our law denounces insults so strongly. Then let us all return at noon tomorrow and hear whether he truly understands and truly repents.”
Cúan nodded quickly.
“It shall be as you say, Fidelma, and we thank you for your justice and your wisdom. Sit down Augaire and do not let me hear from you again unless you are asked a specific question by the dálaigh. Then you may answer with respect.”
Fidelma turned back to those gathered in the hall.
“I do not think we need to detain you much longer. The facts of this murder are becoming clearer.”
That caught their attention.
Brehon Declan was nodding.
“We are agreed on that, Fidelma,” he said. “One person benefits from this and one person had the opportunity.”
Fidelma glanced at him.
“Broadly speaking, there is no disagreement in that. But can that person be identified?”
“Well, I think it is easy,” replied Declan, confidently.
Fidelma looked toward Muirecán the attendant.
“Surely Muirecán had the opportunity to poison the mead?”
The elderly servant groaned and swayed.
“I did not, I did not,” he almost whimpered.
“Of course, he did not,” affirmed Declan. “The poor man’s only involvement was to draw the mead from the barrel and bring it to the antechamber where his guilt lay in leaving it unattended for the murderer to slip in the contents of the phial of poison.”
“Very well, Declan. Let us examine first the motive. Remember what our old mentor, Brehon Morann, used to say? That in such cases, if one found motive, then the culprit was never far away. Deeds are stimulated either by hope or driven by fear. If the motive here was not one of fear then it must be one of hope. Hope for gain? What gain?”
Declan grinned.
“Now you are talking as of old, Fidelma. Indeed, this deed was done for gain. To be rid of Talamnach and thus secure the office of tanist. That was the object and that was the gain. And, of course, there was one person here that stood to gain once Talamnach was out of the way. That person was not Augaire, for we have already seen demonstrated that he would not have any more votes in this derbfine than those of his three friends and cousins.”
“True enough,” agreed Fidelma. “Continue on along your path of logic.”
Selbach had arisen again.
“He does not need to.”
There was gasp among the people.
Fidelma frowned.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because the goal of his logic is obvious. He points the finger, as he has done throughout these entire proceedings, at me.”
“And do you admit to this deed?”
“I am innocent before God!” snapped Selbach.
“But you admit that you had the motive and the opportunity?” Declan said triumphantly.
“Motive yes, but opportunity. .?”
Fidelma’s words were hardly more than a sigh but they caused all eyes to be turned toward her.
“Reflect on this,” she went on, when she had their attention. “Muirecán came into the antechamber with the mead and set down the tray. Who is there?” When no one answered her, she continued. “Brehon Declan was there. Talamnach was there. Selbach was there. Berrach was there. Augaire was there.”
She counted off the names on the fingers of her left hand.
“At this stage we have accepted the assurance of Muirecán that no poison had entered the mead. Now, Declan and Talamnach were speaking together. They realize it is late and Cúan has not arrived. So Muirecán is dispatched to the chief’s chamber to tell him that the meeting is ready. The mead is left on the table. Augaire makes to drink the mead and is prevented from doing so by his mother. Wouldn’t that be an ideal opportunity for Augaire to introduce the poison? Wait!” She held up her hand to still a protest from Berrach. “I did not say that he did. But let us consider. He, too, has the motive. For in spite of what Declan says, I think this young man is arrogant enough not to realize that he stands little chance of being supported by this derbfine. He might be arrogant enough to think that once rid of Talamnach, he would stand a chance and find favor in his father’s eyes. However, he picks up one mug and makes to drink it and is prevented and drawn away. True he could have introduced the poison into that mug, but not into both mugs.”