My Lady Judge (19 page)
‘Of course, the law is that if your name begins with an “O” or a “Mac” you can’t trade in Galway,’ he continued, ‘but a lot of people don’t take too much notice of that.’
This was true, thought Mara. Her own son-in-law, Oisín O’Davoren, had traded in Galway for many years and no one had caused trouble for him.
‘How many years were you there?’ she asked.
‘About six,’ he replied. Suddenly he was talking fluently, his
black eyes burning with passion. ‘Seán Lynch rented the premises to me originally, but then he wanted me to buy it and I did. I was making plenty of silver by then,’ he said proudly. ‘The ships from Spain and from France that had unloaded barrels of wine were only too keen to take back the same weight as ballast. Leather goods, which was what most of them wanted, don’t weigh much, so the flagstones made up the weight.’
black eyes burning with passion. ‘Seán Lynch rented the premises to me originally, but then he wanted me to buy it and I did. I was making plenty of silver by then,’ he said proudly. ‘The ships from Spain and from France that had unloaded barrels of wine were only too keen to take back the same weight as ballast. Leather goods, which was what most of them wanted, don’t weigh much, so the flagstones made up the weight.’
‘And then …’ prompted Mara.
His balled-up fist struck the table with a force that made a splash of ink shoot out from the horn. Fachtnan gave him a quick glance and steadied the inkhorn with one hand while continuing to write with the other.
‘And then Colman came along and laid information against me with the Mayor of Galway and I was told to get out of the city and Colman claimed his reward,’ he said rapidly. ‘My shop, the place that I had bought, and paid for, and furnished, and kept in repair, that was all given to Colman as his reward for informing on me.’
‘And what happened when you spoke to Colman on
Bealtaine
evening?’
Bealtaine
evening?’
She heard him draw in a breath. Outside the window the steady stroke of the iron mallet on the hard stone continued to ring, but inside, the damp, cold room seemed suddenly very quiet.
‘I told him how angry I was and then I left,’ he said tonelessly. Now the dark eyes were veiled by jet-black eyelashes. Fergus peered at him curiously, half opened his mouth but then closed it again.
Mara waited, but no more came. ‘Colman said nothing?’ she asked, allowing her voice to sound incredulous.
Oscar shrugged. ‘He sneered a bit,’ he said after a minute. ‘He told me that he planned to set himself up as a lawyer in that shop. He was tired of the law school and he wasn’t going to stay another
year. He had plans to make a fortune, I suppose. There are always people buying and selling in Galway and Colman had been studying English law as well as Brehon law.’
year. He had plans to make a fortune, I suppose. There are always people buying and selling in Galway and Colman had been studying English law as well as Brehon law.’
Mara nodded. So that was what Colman had been doing during his frequent absences from the law school. He had been building up a client base in Galway and studying English law. Now she no longer wondered why he had stooped to blackmail instead of asking his parents for money. Colman’s ambitions had been boundless. No doubt he had seen himself as a merchant prince of Galway and perhaps Lord Mayor as well. The legal business would be just a start.
‘And what did you say?’ she enquired.
‘I thought it was no good talking to him so I just came away.’
‘And he was alive when you left?’
‘Of course he was,’ said Oscar bitterly. ‘He was alive and smirking.’
‘It was still bright, then. You could see his face?’
‘I could see his face, all right,’ said Oscar. There was a brooding look on his own face.
‘And did you see anyone nearby as you left?’
‘There were plenty of people around,’ said Oscar. ‘But I didn’t know any of them. I cursed myself for a fool for coming. I hadn’t planned it: I was on my way back from Galway and I saw all the people going up. I knew he’d be there. The last time that I saw him, in Sean Lynch’s place, he had been boasting about judgement day and how important he was.’
‘You say that you didn’t know any of the people, but you know Diarmuid O’Connor, don’t you?’ asked Mara sharply. ‘He saw you.’
Oscar shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I don’t remember the name. Who is he?’
Mara didn’t answer. She was busy thinking. His story was fairly plausible; if he went away while it was still bright he was
definitely not the one who killed Colman. However, she would need evidence of this before she took him off her list of possible murderers. He was very strong; he could definitely overpower Colman who had been slender and lightly built. Surely, if his story were true, someone would have seen him go down while it was still bright? This was a matter that the boys could investigate. Enda would love that, she thought indulgently. She would give him the task of looking for evidence of Oscar’s arrival and departure. He could be in charge of organizing Moylan and Aidan to help him get evidence. At nearly sixteen he was yearning for some responsibility.
definitely not the one who killed Colman. However, she would need evidence of this before she took him off her list of possible murderers. He was very strong; he could definitely overpower Colman who had been slender and lightly built. Surely, if his story were true, someone would have seen him go down while it was still bright? This was a matter that the boys could investigate. Enda would love that, she thought indulgently. She would give him the task of looking for evidence of Oscar’s arrival and departure. He could be in charge of organizing Moylan and Aidan to help him get evidence. At nearly sixteen he was yearning for some responsibility.
Mara rose to her feet. ‘I may need to speak to you again,’ she said. ‘You will be here?’
He accompanied them to the door, opened it and stood looking over the dusty scene of back-breaking toil.
‘I’ll be here,’ he said with a depth of bitterness in his voice that saddened her. ‘I’ll be here unless I’m at the bottom of the sea. At the moment I feel that’s the best prospect facing me.’
‘You’ll find a way to combine your father’s business and your own, Oscar,’ said Fergus encouragingly. ‘Galway should not be allowed to take all the trade. When I was young, Liscannor was almost as busy a port. Perhaps it will be again.’
Oscar did not look convinced, Mara thought, and she suspected that he saw the position more clearly than did Fergus. Perhaps Gaelic Ireland was at risk. Perhaps the gloomy thoughts of Turlough were prophetic. Perhaps this new king, Henry VIII, would turn his thoughts towards Ireland and would sweep away the Gaelic customs and the Gaelic laws. Still, she thought cheerfully, while I’m here I will do my best for the people of the Burren, and what I need to do now is to solve this secret and unlawful killing and allow everything to get back to normal.
‘I don’t think that I can spare the time to come back with you, Fergus,’ she said when they came to the crossroads. She noted
with pleasure how her voice held the correct note of regret. ‘There is so much to do, so much evidence to gather, so many people to see and then, of course, there are my scholars …’
with pleasure how her voice held the correct note of regret. ‘There is so much to do, so much evidence to gather, so many people to see and then, of course, there are my scholars …’
‘Of course,’ said Fergus solemnly. ‘I do understand. Siobhan will be disappointed; she would have loved a good gossip with you, but she will understand, also. Another day … another day in happier times.’
‘Another day,’ echoed Mara, carefully arranging her face to look preoccupied and worried. She waved to him and hastily quickened her pace to catch Fachtnan up with the air of a woman who has many tasks on her mind. He is such a nice man, she thought with some compunction. Others in his position would have cross-questioned her, tried to impose their advice and opinions on her. Without his help, she might never have attained the position of Brehon of the Burren. Despite all the careful provision in the law texts for female poets, female physicians, female wood-wrights and female blacksmiths, it was generally held in Ireland that women were inferior to men.
‘Better than in England, though,’ she said aloud and Fachtnan turned to look at her. She laughed. ‘I was just thinking that the position of women is probably better here than anywhere else,’ she said.
‘Was it difficult for you to become a Brehon?’ asked Fachtnan curiously.
‘Fergus spoke up for me,’ said Mara, feeling a twinge of guilt. It would not have hurt, she thought, to have gone and spent ten minutes with him and Siobhan. ‘We had to go to the court at Thomond; King Turlough’s uncle was king then. Fergus brought along all the law texts and wisdom texts which showed that women had been Brehons in the past. He spoke for so long that the old king almost fell asleep. He even trotted out the old story about the judge Sencha being put right by the wise elderly female judge, Brig.’
‘Well, I think you are a very good Brehon,’ said Fachtnan awkwardly.
‘Thank you, Fachtnan, I do my best,’ said Mara. ‘I only hope I can solve this case speedily,’ she added, half to Fachtnan and half to herself. She hated to think of the slow poison of fear, suspicion and apprehension seeping into the daily life of the people that she served.
CÁIN LÁNAMNA (THE LAW OF MARRIAGE)
Imscarad,
divorce, is permitted for many reasons. In the following cases the woman may retain her coibche, bride price:
divorce, is permitted for many reasons. In the following cases the woman may retain her coibche, bride price:
1.
If the man leaves her for another woman
If the man leaves her for another woman
2.
If the man is impotent or homosexual
If the man is impotent or homosexual
3.
If he is so fat as to be incapable of intercourse
If he is so fat as to be incapable of intercourse
4.
If the man relates secrets of the marriage bed in the alehouse
If the man relates secrets of the marriage bed in the alehouse
T
HE RAIN STARTED TO fall again around sunset and it rained all night. However, soon after sunrise it stopped and when Mara went down to her bathhouse on Tuesday morning thick white clouds were scudding across a sky as blue as the sea. As she washed and dressed her mind was busy with the tasks ahead of her. For once she did not stop in her garden when she came out of the house, but walked quickly down the road and into the empty schoolhouse. Brigid was in the kitchen and Cumhal
was milking the goats in the yard behind, but there was no sign of life from the scholars’ house. That was good; she would have a few minutes’ peace.
HE RAIN STARTED TO fall again around sunset and it rained all night. However, soon after sunrise it stopped and when Mara went down to her bathhouse on Tuesday morning thick white clouds were scudding across a sky as blue as the sea. As she washed and dressed her mind was busy with the tasks ahead of her. For once she did not stop in her garden when she came out of the house, but walked quickly down the road and into the empty schoolhouse. Brigid was in the kitchen and Cumhal
was milking the goats in the yard behind, but there was no sign of life from the scholars’ house. That was good; she would have a few minutes’ peace.
She took the piece of vellum that Colman’s mother had found and held it to the light of the window. His handwriting was clear, but it was tiny and the west-facing room was dim at this hour of the morning. She had already gone through the list and had a quick look at the first of the numbers: MCDLXX. The year had intrigued her. Her father was Brehon then; he had taken over from his father five years earlier in 1465. The case number was XXXV. She found it again instantly and settled down on her own chair to read it.
There were several shouts from the scholars’ house by the time that she finished undoing the pink linen tape that bound the scroll. The lads seemed to have fully regained their spirits, she thought absent-mindedly. She put down the scroll and cast a quick glance out of the window. They were pouring out of the door of the house, their hair tousled, their faces unwashed. Brigid might send them back now, or she might have pity on them and give them their porridge and honey first. Either way, Brigid would ensure that they would be tidy and well groomed by the time that they came into the schoolroom, so Mara had a few more minutes to herself before they came tumbling in.
She took up the scroll again. It was not a public judgement at Poulnabrone dolmen; she had seen that when she had looked at it before. This was a private affair. There were two names at the head of the scroll. One was the O’Lochlainn, Ardal and Donogh’s father, and the other was Muiris O’Heynes. Mara frowned. It was a strange document, not a formal document of fosterage, or of bondage, though it did hold a declaration from the O’Lochlainn that he would care for this fourteen-year-old boy cast up on the sands at Fanore until the boy reached the age of eighteen. She read it through and then rolled it up rapidly, tying it with the pink
linen tape and pushing it back on to the shelf. She spent some time gazing through the window, seeing nothing, her mind busy. That indeed could have been a motive for murder. Muiris was not a man to take blackmail lightly, and this was a secret that he would not have been willing to share with anyone.
linen tape and pushing it back on to the shelf. She spent some time gazing through the window, seeing nothing, her mind busy. That indeed could have been a motive for murder. Muiris was not a man to take blackmail lightly, and this was a secret that he would not have been willing to share with anyone.
I must get the blacksmith to put a lock on this cupboard, she thought, eventually, turning away from the window. How could Colman have done this? How could he have betrayed her trust? How could he have forgotten the oath that all scholars swore every year at Michaelmas, the beginning of the law year, that they would never betray any secret that came to their ears during their time at the law school? She looked back at the strip of vellum and the case numbers written on it. She would look at these other cases afterwards, she thought, as she sat down at her desk. First she had to prepare a schedule for her scholars’ day.
‘Dia’s muire agat
,
a bhean uasil.’
They were all jostling and pushing in through the door, their faces shining, their hair ridged from wet combs.
,
a bhean uasil.’
They were all jostling and pushing in through the door, their faces shining, their hair ridged from wet combs.
‘It’s a lovely day, Brehon,’ said Fachtnan politely as he took his place on the front bench.
‘It’ll be just perfect for riding around the Burren gathering evidence,’ said Enda enthusiastically.
‘Have you made your list, Brehon?’ asked Moylan, coming straight to the point instantly.
‘Brehon, can we help too, me and Hugh?’ asked Shane. ‘Oh, and Cumhal says that the wind is going around to the east and we are going to have a few good days now. He is going to Fanore tomorrow to get some seaweed to put on the vegetable garden. He said that I could ask you if we could go as well?’
It was a tradition that the scholars had a day off to help with the gathering of seaweed, and at least it would give Mara a day of
peace, a day to think quietly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I think you can all go. But now we will have to think about today and your task.’
peace, a day to think quietly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I think you can all go. But now we will have to think about today and your task.’
‘We’ll work really well all of today if we can go seaweed-gathering tomorrow,’ said Moylan earnestly.
‘We might even solve your investigation for you,’ chipped in Enda. ‘We might come back this evening with the murder solved. That would be very useful for you, wouldn’t it?’
‘You might even give us an extra day’s holiday,’ said Moylan hopefully.
‘Brigid said that she would pack some of her pork pies and a flagon of light ale into satchels for us all so that we don’t need to waste time coming home to be fed,’ said Aidan.
She smiled at them, warmed by their excitement and by the word ‘home’ that Aidan had used.
‘You will remember the oath that you all swore at Michaelmas?’ she said looking around.
‘Of course,’ said Shane promptly. ‘We swore with our hand on the Bible.’
‘Cross our hearts and hope to die,’ said Moylan, sketching a rapid cross on his breast with his thumb.
‘Discretion and silence in all dealings with the people of the kingdom’
, said Enda, quoting from a wisdom text.
, said Enda, quoting from a wisdom text.
Mara gave a satisfied nod. ‘Your task, Enda, is to trace the movements of Oscar O’Connor, stone-cutter of the kingdom of Corcomroe. Find out everything about him on that night of
Bealtaine
. Moylan and Aidan will aid you in this. Interview as many people as you can. The main reason for these enquiries, of course, is to find out what time Oscar left the mountain, but if he spoke to anyone, take careful note of his words. Do be thorough about this, because it may be possible that he left and then returned later on. Listen for the vespers bell from the abbey and return as soon as you hear it.’
Bealtaine
. Moylan and Aidan will aid you in this. Interview as many people as you can. The main reason for these enquiries, of course, is to find out what time Oscar left the mountain, but if he spoke to anyone, take careful note of his words. Do be thorough about this, because it may be possible that he left and then returned later on. Listen for the vespers bell from the abbey and return as soon as you hear it.’
‘And what about me?’ asked Fachtnan.
‘See as many people as you can and ask them the memories they have of who was near to Wolf’s Lair shortly before, and just after, the bonfire was lit. Make sure that you listen carefully and make accurate notes immediately after someone has spoken. Don’t rely on your memory, Fachtnan. Write everything down.’
‘And what about us?’ asked Shane.
‘Please can we have our enquiry?’ pleaded Hugh. ‘Just the two of us?’
Mara had been about to tell them to go with Fachtnan, but then she hesitated. They would much prefer to go on their own and Fachtnan would probably do better without them, also. He would have the judgement to know when to press a question or when to just leave it alone; the two young boys might spoil things for him by inserting their own questions.
‘Yes,’ she said solemnly, ‘I want you two to interview Diarmuid O’Connor. You can take turns with asking the questions and writing down the answers. Don’t rush; take plenty of time.’ Diarmuid, she knew, would be tactful and patient with them. He was fond of children. She racked her brains for someone else for them to interview. She didn’t want them riding all over the Burren with no supervision. She had a great sense of responsibility towards these two youngest scholars.
‘Oh, and you could interview Roderic,’ she added quickly. Roderic’s house was quite close to the law school. He would probably delay them by playing some new tunes to them on his horn. No doubt he would be in a happy, if slightly nervous, mood, after the wonderful excitement of the king’s offer to make him one of his household musicians.
‘See Roderic first this morning, you can also ask him if he would like to go to Fanore with you all tomorrow. He’d enjoy that. Then, when you have finished with Roderic, go on to Diarmuid. Come back here as soon as you are finished. Tell Diarmuid that I expect you back at vespers.’ With a bit of luck,
Diarmuid would detain them for a while, she thought. He usually had a few orphaned or rejected lambs to feed, or a few calves to be driven to fresh pasture.
Diarmuid would detain them for a while, she thought. He usually had a few orphaned or rejected lambs to feed, or a few calves to be driven to fresh pasture.
After they had gone, Mara settled back to work in the schoolhouse. There was no doubt in her mind now that Colman had been a blackmailer, but did one of his blackmail victims murder him? Or was this a murder that was in some way involved with the complicated political situation of the times? Again she recalled the words that she had overheard on the mountain pass. Something about a young lawyer … and about someone who did not turn up. Or was it a revenge killing by Oscar O’Connor, triggered by Colman’s monstrous act of informing upon his cousin?
She stared at the scroll marked MCDLXX/XXXV with the name of Muiris O’Heynes on the top, but she did not draw it out again. She would have to talk to Muiris; she knew that, but she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. Her own feeling was that these law texts in front of her held secrets that should be as inviolate at those told to the priest in the confession box. To give herself time to think she drew out her own divorce judgement text.
Yes, she was right about the number, she thought, picking up and unrolling the vellum. MCDXC/XIX. It amused and calmed her to read it. The facts were all so clearly stated by the aigne, Mara O’Davoren. All the names of the many witnesses to Dualta’s ribald, drunken boasting in the alehouse, their places of residence and their occupations were stated, the references to the law texts, names and numbers, cross-references to other cases, everything was there. It had been a model pleading, she thought proudly. Fergus and a judge from Thomond had heard the case and the judgement given was divorce with the return of the bride price to the bride herself, since her father was no longer alive.
Was Colman planning to blackmail her? she wondered. What
did he think that would achieve? Everyone on the Burren knew the story of the divorce. There had been a lot of talk and disapproval at the time. Or was it perhaps Dualta? Had Colman discovered him? Perhaps Dualta was in Galway? Had Colman found some reason to blackmail him? She had never known or cared where her husband went. It had been a great mistake, that early and rushed marriage when she was only fourteen, and her husband was only seventeen. He had been a stonemason’s son who had been sent to law school. He had been intelligent enough, but light-minded and too fond of drink and carousing. He would never pass his final examinations unless he took his studies more seriously, her father had often warned him. And year after year he had failed. She had been very much in love with him when she was fourteen and her father had given in to her, as he usually did. By the time that Sorcha was born, a year later, she had known it was a mistake. And then came the death of her father the year after that and then the emergence of the bully in the inadequate Dualta.
did he think that would achieve? Everyone on the Burren knew the story of the divorce. There had been a lot of talk and disapproval at the time. Or was it perhaps Dualta? Had Colman discovered him? Perhaps Dualta was in Galway? Had Colman found some reason to blackmail him? She had never known or cared where her husband went. It had been a great mistake, that early and rushed marriage when she was only fourteen, and her husband was only seventeen. He had been a stonemason’s son who had been sent to law school. He had been intelligent enough, but light-minded and too fond of drink and carousing. He would never pass his final examinations unless he took his studies more seriously, her father had often warned him. And year after year he had failed. She had been very much in love with him when she was fourteen and her father had given in to her, as he usually did. By the time that Sorcha was born, a year later, she had known it was a mistake. And then came the death of her father the year after that and then the emergence of the bully in the inadequate Dualta.
I could have waited a little longer, she thought. He would have undoubtedly strayed. Already he was eyeing other women; she knew that. That would have been a more usual and more acceptable reason for divorce. But she knew also that he had no hope of passing his law examinations: he spent little time in studying and long hours in alehouses, relying on the fact that he would be rich from the proceeds of his wife’s property and law school. She needed to get rid of him and to be the one in charge of the law school. She was a qualified
aigne
at sixteen and an
ollamh,
professor, before her eighteenth birthday.
aigne
at sixteen and an
ollamh,
professor, before her eighteenth birthday.
When, on that day in April 1490, Diarmuid came to her, distressed and embarrassed, after overhearing Dualta’s boasting in the alehouse the night before, she knew immediately that she had a weapon in her hand to get rid of her husband. She smiled now at the memory of Diarmuid’s freckled face flushing hot with blushes, and her own cool, calm probing until she managed to get
from him the exact words that Dualta had used. He had been horrified at the idea of telling it again in public, but she had always been able to make Diarmuid do as she wanted since the time that they had played together when they were young children.
from him the exact words that Dualta had used. He had been horrified at the idea of telling it again in public, but she had always been able to make Diarmuid do as she wanted since the time that they had played together when they were young children.
Judgement day,
Bealtaine
MCDXC. Yes, Diarmuid’s evidence was there. Fergus had written that and he had heavily censored it, she had been amused to see that, after the case was over. Dualta’s words, though, as quoted by Diarmuid, would have lingered in the minds of the community for a long time – probably still did, nineteen years later. She shrugged. She didn’t care. She had been a passionate girl and she saw nothing to be ashamed of in that. The important thing was that she had kept her law school, kept her farm, had become Brehon of the Burren, and now all of these things would be for Sorcha’s son, four-year-old Domhnall, or daughter, two-year-old Aisling.
Bealtaine
MCDXC. Yes, Diarmuid’s evidence was there. Fergus had written that and he had heavily censored it, she had been amused to see that, after the case was over. Dualta’s words, though, as quoted by Diarmuid, would have lingered in the minds of the community for a long time – probably still did, nineteen years later. She shrugged. She didn’t care. She had been a passionate girl and she saw nothing to be ashamed of in that. The important thing was that she had kept her law school, kept her farm, had become Brehon of the Burren, and now all of these things would be for Sorcha’s son, four-year-old Domhnall, or daughter, two-year-old Aisling.
MCDLXXXII/IX – yet another case before her time. This she read through quickly, lips parted, eyebrows raised. Yes, undoubtedly this could have led to blackmail, but had Colman just held this in reserve? Or had he already spoken to the man and blackmailed him? If so, there had been little sign of it. There were other cases, also, on his list – even a yearbook, marked MDVII, which held a record of all of the births, marriages and deaths in that year on the Burren. Some of the cases puzzled her; what had Colman found of interest in them? But she did not underestimate the depth of his intelligence and his greed and she knew that she would have to study each one of these cases carefully. First, though, she would go to see Muiris O’Heynes at his farm at Poulnabrucky.
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