Scales of Retribution Read online

  The Burren Mysteries by Cora Harrison

  MY LADY JUDGE

  A SECRET AND UNLAWFUL KILLING

  THE STING OF JUSTICE

  WRIT IN STONE*

  EYE OF THE LAW*

  SCALES OF RETRIBUTION*

  *available from Severn House

  SCALES OF RETRIBUTION

  Cora Harrison

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First world edition published 2011

  in Great Britain and the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

  Copyright © 2011 by Cora Harrison.

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Harrison, Cora.

  Scales of retribution.

  1. Mara, Brehon of the Burren

  (Fictitious character) – Fiction. 2. Women judges – Ireland – Burren – Fiction.

  3. Physicians – Death – Fiction. 4. Burren (Ireland) –

  History – 16th century – Fiction. 5. Detective and mystery

  stories.

  I. Title

  823.9′14-dc22

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-102-6 (ePub)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-6996-8 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-331-1 (trade paper)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  For my brother, James, in fond recollection of all the fun we had as children, particularly in the caves, cliffs and icy seas of Ballycotton Bay.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Gratitude must go first of all to my family: Frank, my husband, always willing to listen to my latest bright idea; William, my son, who keeps my computers running smoothly, and is invariably full of creative solutions to knotty problems; Ruth, my daughter – always my first reader – who encourages and assists; my son-in-law, Pete, who designed and maintains my website and Shane, my grandson, just for being himself!

  And then there is the team of professionals without whom there would be no book: Peter Buckman, my agent, who serves up a palatable mix of honesty, understanding and expert judgement, seasoned with a liberal sprinkling of humour and fun, and James Nightingale who edited this book so deftly and sympathetically – it was a pleasure to work with you, James.

  Anyone who writes about Brehon law must acknowledge the huge input of dedicated people, like Daniel Binchy, Fergus Kelly, who translated these ancient laws from medieval Gaelic: I feel an immense debt to them.

  Prologue

  In June 1510, Henry VIII of England had completed his first year of kingship. He was at peace with France; the Pope himself had approved the league between the two countries; the country was prosperous and the people contented. The young king was approaching the first anniversary of his marriage which had taken place on the eleventh of June in 1509. His wife, Catherine of Aragon, though she had lost her first baby, was now pregnant again. Ireland, as always, was a problem, but he had plans for that troublesome country. He had appointed the Earl of Kildare as his deputy and had promised him arms and men to deal with those small Gaelic kingdoms which would not accept the rule and the laws of England.

  The Earl of Kildare, Garret Mór Fitzgerald, was a good choice – in fact the only choice. Known as the Great Earl, he was the descendent of a family who had been given land in the east of Ireland by Henry II in the twelfth century. Over the three hundred intervening years they had become assimilated into their adopted country – married the daughters of Irish chieftains and took up some of its customs. Garret, however, was ambitious. When he became head of the Kildare family, most of Ireland had slipped back into Gaelic ways and Gaelic rule. Garret saw an opportunity to get even greater lands and riches by spreading the rule of English law throughout the whole of Ireland. By means of open warfare, strategic ties of marriage and friendship with many of the Irish clan leaders, he and his family were already ruling the south, north and east of the country. He appealed to the greed of the young king to grant him the means to totally subdue this country full of rich forests and fertile grassland.

  The west of Ireland had stood out against the combined might of England and the Earl. It had remained strongly Gaelic, presenting an obstacle to Garret’s overweening ambition. Without control of the west he could never be considered the prince – some said king – of Ireland. And so it was that in the first week of June in that year of 1510, Garret Mór set out to conquer the remaining chieftains who could not be bribed nor frightened into surrender. He mustered a great army, equipped with guns and cannon, and marched west against his poorly armed opponents with the certainty of victory in his mind.

  In the far west of Ireland, King Turlough Donn O’Brien, king of Thomond, Corcomroe and Burren, was one of those unwilling to accept the rule of England. When the news came about the Earl’s raid on his Limerick lands, he summoned all who owed him loyalty, such as Ulick Burke, the Clanrickard, from north of Galway city, the MacNamara from west of Limerick, and his own lords and vassals from the three kingdoms. He asked them to rise up in a great slógad, and to defeat this false Earl who had turned his back on the country which had enriched him and his ancestors.

  And they swore the old traditional oath of the Gael to support him and to follow his leadership. They swore ‘by the sun and the moon; by water and air; by day and night; by sea and land’ that they would be his men and would fight by his side while breath remained in their bodies.

  When the king and his great gathering departed, he left behind Mara, his wife and the Brehon (investigating magistrate) of the Burren. Mara was heavily pregnant and looking forward to the birth of her child in July. Until then she would work on, teaching her scholars the law of their forebears, resolving disputes between the people of the kingdom and praying for the safe return of her lord.

  The land was peaceful – the second glorious summer of the reign of Henry VIII appeared to be as good as the first. The hay ripened early, the oats flourished, the exquisite spring flowers of the Burren – the dark blue gentians and the creamy white mountain avens – had finished their brief show of glory, and had given way to the orchids, the roses and the silken harebells of early summer.

  But one man, not an evil man in himself, nevertheless driven to evil by his greed and his passions, a man who betrayed his profession, was to destroy that peace and to bring suffering and death to the small kingdom beside the Atlantic Ocean. And when the secret and unlawful killing o
ccurred, Mara had to gather her energies and ensure that the penalty was paid according to the law of the land.

  One

  Sechus Mór

  (The Great Laws of Antiquity)

  Nófis therefore is the name of the book; that is the knowledge of nine persons, for nine persons were appointed to arrange this book of the ancient laws of Ireland, namely: Patrick, Benen and Cairech, three bishops; Laeghaire, Corc and Daire, three kings; and three learned men: Rossa mac Trechim, a doctor of laws, Dubhtach a doctor of laws and a poet and Fergus the Poet.

  And all the laws that were known in the country of Ireland, and were allowed by Patrick, were written down in this great book.

  The limestone pavements and the swirling terraces of the surrounding mountains in the kingdom of the Burren shimmered silver in the heat of the mid-June sun. Pale pink roses glowed beside the flat platters of scented elderflowers in the hedgerows, the grykes were filled with frothy white and mauve orchids and deep blue vetch, the clints were carpeted with mats of bright purple thyme and in the still-green oat fields, the poppies and hawkweeds flamed scarlet and gold.

  It was judgement day in the kingdom of the Burren. Mara, the only woman Brehon in Ireland, waited by the ancient dolmen of Poulnabrone, one hand on the huge, sun-warmed capstone of the table-shaped tomb and the other holding a scroll. As judge and investigating magistrate, she held the scales of justice for all crimes and all legal disputes in this tiny kingdom on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. In front of her were her scholars – six of them, ranging in age from nineteen-year-old Fachtnan to eleven-year-old Shane. Around her, some standing, some sitting on the flat stones of the clints, some leaning on boulders, were the people of the Burren. Most chatted together in low tones and from time to time cast a look towards the north. Soon the bells of the abbey would ring for vespers and when they finished then Mara would begin.

  Nothing too complicated today, thought Mara, and she was glad of it. She was eight months pregnant; her back ached, her head ached and her stomach had now begun to ache; the sooner this baby is born, the better, she thought and waited eagerly for the first clang of the abbey bell. Ryan O’Connor and his wife were already there, she noticed, standing side by side. That was a good sign. It probably meant that the divorce would go through quickly and each would be satisfied with whatever portion of the goods that would be allotted to them. She passed a few minutes regretting the differences that had arisen between them – there seemed to be no question of infidelity on either side, just, as they both firmly asserted, that they disagreed on money matters and how to run the farm – a fairly unusual reason for divorce. They were a good-looking pair of young people, the man tall and strong, the woman small, but well built and with the appearance of wiry strength. She was holding a baby of about six weeks old in her arms. What a shame to deprive a child of one parent over something so trivial, thought Mara, and resolved to try once more to see what she could do to prevent them from taking a step that they might regret.

  ‘The bell, Brehon,’ said twelve-year-old Hugh in a low voice. His young ears had caught the sound before she had, but now she could distinguish the sonorous boom. A few people crossed themselves and muttered a prayer, but all faces turned towards Mara and responded eagerly to her greeting once the last stroke had ceased to reverberate.

  ‘There is just one case to be heard today,’ said Mara, turning to one side so that her clear tones bounced off the cliff wall behind the clint-paved field and reached to the furthermost person in that field of judgement. ‘This is the case of the divorce between Ryan O’Connor and Cliona O’Connor who wish to part and to go their separate ways. No fault is cited, each has respected their marriage vows, so the law is only involved in order to divide the property in a fair and equitable way.’

  To her amusement she noticed that two fifteen-year-olds, Moylan and Aidan, her most idle scholars, were watching her with rapt attention. Of course, the examinations were next week and, as Mara always paid a lot of attention to practical experiences, they had obviously decided that the Law of Divorce would appear on their papers.

  ‘The first principle,’ continued Mara unrolling the scroll of vellum that she held, scanning it rapidly and then rolling it up again before anyone could notice that it was blank – exhaustion had prevented her from filling it up the night before – ‘the first principle in divorce is that both shall depart as they came; whatever is still left from the goods that each brought to this marriage will be retained by that person.’

  Both heads nodded. Mara noticed a flash of amusement in the blue eyes of sixteen-year-old Enda as he glanced at the solemn faces of his fellow scholars. Enda would be taking his final examination to qualify as a lawyer this summer. He would undoubtedly pass, she thought. She would miss him and his quick brain.

  ‘After that, this is the position: Ryan, of course, retains the clan land and the flock of sheep that he possessed, but Cliona, who shared in his work, especially during lambing time, will be allocated one ninth of the lambs dropped during the year of marriage. In addition, she must be paid half the price obtained from any articles of clothing made by her from the wool and sold at the market place. If there is clothing or woven cloth in the house, she must also receive one half of it. This is because these are the fruits of her labour.’

  She paused, looking around at the crowd. There was a lot of interest on all of the faces in front of her. Divorce because of a new relationship was reasonably common, though most men seemed to be content with just acquiring a wife of the second, third or even fourth degree – and most wives accepted the situation as long as their own position was unaltered. But divorce where there was no fault on either side was quite uncommon. Still, it was good to have the possibility if a couple wished to part. In England, where no divorce existed, an unhappy couple were locked together for life.

  ‘In the case of any wool or fleeces, not yet combed nor spun, then Cliona’s share is just one ninth. In addition, Ryan must supply her with a sack of oats for every month that remains until the end of the year to come – that is until the first of May,’ she continued and then hesitated.

  She had already pleaded with the young couple to reconsider but her words had not borne any fruit. She would try once more before the final words were spoken.

  ‘That is the legal position and this is where the law finishes. The last step is for you to take, Cliona, as I understand it is your desire for this marriage to be dissolved. Before you take this step then I would ask you to think that you are depriving your child of his father and that perhaps with a little understanding on both sides this marriage can still be saved.’

  A low hum of approval came from the crowd and Mara could see faces, both of men and women, turned eagerly towards the young couple.

  Cliona hesitated. Her face flushed a deep red. She looked at her husband and then at the crowd and suddenly she climbed on top of a low, flat clint and held out her child, facing, not Mara, but the relatives, friends and neighbours that thronged around her.

  ‘Do you see this child?’ she demanded passionately. ‘A lovely, healthy boy! All who know me know that he is the light of my eyes and the joy of my life. Well, if I had done what this man, my husband, wanted me to do, this child would not be here. As soon as he knew that I was expecting a baby, what does he do but go to the physician and come back with some medicine for me to take. As soon as I smelled it, I knew what it was. Anyone who works with lambing sheep has to know about herbs and their effects. I knew what that one was! It was pennyroyal! He wanted me to miscarry his own child so that I would go on working up the mountain and earning more silver for him.’ She stopped and then said, ‘I wanted my child; God only knows how much I wanted him. I threw the mixture in his face and I swore to myself that once I was delivered safely and had recovered from the birth, then I would divorce this man.’ She drew a deep breath, kissed her baby passionately and then climbed down. This time she did not stand near to her husband but deliberately moved to the other side, turning her face a
way from him.

  ‘This was very wrong!’ Mara addressed Ryan so sternly that he wilted and looked uncomfortably at the ground beneath his feet. ‘It is one of the great tenets of Brehon law that a woman’s right to have a baby is absolute. She may even leave her husband, if he is unable to give her that baby, go to another man to become pregnant and then return to her husband – and no reproach may be made. You endangered the life of your wife and sought to kill her child. A case may be brought against him if you wish, Cliona. What do you say? The decision is yours.’

  The woman shook her head. ‘Give me what is rightfully mine,’ she said still in loud, clear tones. ‘Let me walk away from this marriage with that I have brought to it and with the fruit of my labours, and I ask no more.’

  ‘Then,’ said Mara gravely, ‘the next step is yours.’

  Cliona stood very tall, looking across at her husband and holding her baby high in the air. ‘I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you,’ she said clearly and steadily.

  A low murmur came from the crowd. There was a note of approbation in it, thought Mara and waited patiently until it had died down. Justice under the Brehon law system was a communal matter so the courts were always held in the open in order that all could attend. There were no savage punishments, no prisons, no force was used so the judgements and the retribution for any crime committed had to be reinforced by the clan of the guilty person. In this case, the O’Connor clan had heard the reason for Cliona’s desire to part from her husband and had approved.

  ‘As the three-fold repudiation has been spoken,’ said Mara, ‘I now pronounce you, Cliona O’Connor and Ryan O’Connor, to be no longer man and wife.’

  Now the murmur swelled. All heads turned towards the young mother. No one moved; they would wait until Mara dismissed them, but smiles of sympathy lit up the faces. Cliona would find that she would not be alone in her struggle to raise a child without a father. The O’Connor clan – the clan of her father as well as of her husband – would come to her aid whenever it was needed. Ryan O’Connor turned away and began to walk through the people who parted to allow him to pass. His head was down and with his stick he struck viciously at the nodding heads of the yellow-centred moon-daisies in his path.