Free Verdict of the Court by Cora Harrison

drink.
    ‘You’ve been very useful to me,’ she told the twins. ‘Don’t say anything to anyone about our arrangement; and I will remember to discuss it with the King,’ she put in quickly as she saw Cael open her mouth. ‘But,’ she went on, ‘do think back over that time – less than an hour – and perhaps you could make me a list of the tunes. That would be a great help in jogging memories. I’m not very musical so it’s not something that I can do for myself – and you know everyone there.’ She got to her feet. The priest seemed to have finished anointing Brehon MacClancy’s body with the holy oils; her three groups had finished their interviews and were sitting with the sheets of vellum scrolled up, waiting for her arrival. Art, she noticed, as she came across the room, was yawning heavily and Slevin had dark shadows under his eyes. She greeted the priest, said a few conventional words in answer to his exclamations of horror, managed tactfully to send him back to his house and bed, and then she stepped into the centre of the room. All murmurs of conversation ceased almost instantly and all turned towards her.
    ‘As you all know by now,’ she said, ‘Brehon MacClancy has been unlawfully killed here tonight. Under the law of this kingdom, unless the person who did the deed confesses it within twenty-four hours, I will count it as
duinetháide
(a secret and unlawful murder) and the fine of forty-two
sét
s, or twenty-one milch cows, or twenty-one ounces of silver will be doubled to eighty-four
sét
s, or forty-two milch cows, or forty-two ounces of silver. I will start my investigations tomorrow morning and until this crime is solved, no one present in this room during the last hour shall leave the grounds of Bunratty Castle. But for now, I would like everyone to retire to their own room and to avoid discussing the matter in public.’
    The die had been cast; she had taken the investigation of this crime into her own hands and it would be for her, not for Enda, the assistant Brehon of the kingdom, to conduct the case. She avoided his eyes, telling Domhnall to collect the scrolls of evidence and then to escort the scholars to their sleeping place. The legendary King Cormac had advised his son, Cairbre, not to have an indulgent man as his judge; she, Mara, could not show any indulgence towards Enda until she had cleared him of all complicity in the murder of a man whom he hated and who had wronged him.

Six
Cain Aigillne
    (The Law of Base Clientship)
    ‘For what qualifications is a king elected over countries and clans of people?’ asked Cairbre.
    ‘He is chosen,’ said the King, ‘from the goodness of his shape, and the nobility of his family, from his experience and wisdom, from his prudence and magnanimity, from his eloquence and bravery in battle, and from the number of his friends.’
    ‘Y ou didn’t mean that about no one leaving the castle grounds; did you?’ Turlough had, with unusual tact, delayed his protest until all, except for Donogh O’Hickey, the physician, had filed out of the door of the great hall and gone to seek their sleeping places. Conor and his wife occupied the south solar and its adjoining bedroom; the others had rooms in one of the four towers that were attached to the central block. It was a luxurious castle and there would be no hardship for anyone to stay there a couple of days longer than they had planned.
    ‘Hopefully, it won’t take too long,’ she assured him.
    ‘But what about the hunt tomorrow? Everyone is looking forward to that.’
    Mara sighed slightly. She had noticed lots of muttering as they filed out. Fionn and Raour had their heads together and Maccon was earnestly pouring whispers into the host’s ear. The poet and the harpist, both men in their prime, had been urgently whispering also.
    ‘Well …’ she began.
    ‘The women can stay and keep you company,’ said Turlough obligingly. ‘I’m sure that they will be a great help to you in the