The Spider's Web Read Free

was in his middle years, old enough to be the youth’s father. He was a sombre faced man, almost dour in his expression. There was little humour in his countenance.
    ‘I have listened to the evidence presented in this case,’ Fidelma
began, glancing from one to another. ‘Let me see if I can put the facts fairly. You, Archú, have just reached the age of seniority, the age of choice. Is this so?’
    The youth nodded. Seventeen years was the age, according to the law, when a boy became a man and able to make his own decisions.
    ‘And you are the only child of Suanach, who died a year ago? Suanach, who was daughter to Muadnat’s uncle?’
    ‘She was the only daughter of my father’s brother,’ affirmed Muadnat in a gruff unemotional tone.
    ‘Indeed. So you are cousins to each other?’
    There was no answer. Obviously there was no love lost between these two whatever their relationship.
    ‘Such close relatives should not need recourse to law to settle their differences,’ admonished Fidelma. ‘Do you still insist upon the arbitration of this court?’
    Muadnat sniffed sourly.
    ‘I have no wish to be here.’
    The youth flushed angrily.
    ‘Nor I. Far better it would have been for my cousin to do what was right and moral before it reached this pass.’
    ‘I am in the right,’ snapped Muadnat. ‘You have no claim on the land.’
    Sister Fidelma raised her eyebrow ironically.
    ‘It seems that is now a matter for the law to decide as neither of you appear to agree. And you have brought the matter before the court so that it may make that decision. And the decision that this court makes on the matter is binding on you both.’
    She sat back, folded her hands in her lap and examined each of them carefully in turn. There was anger in both of their storm-ridden faces.
    ‘Very well,’ she said, at last. ‘Suanach, as I understand it, inherited lands from her father. Correct me if I am wrong. She later married a man from beyond the seas, a Briton called Artgal
who, being a stranger in this land, had no property to bring into the marriage.’
    ‘An impecunious foreigner!’ grunted Muadnat.
    Fidelma ignored him.
    ‘Artgal, who was Archú’s father, died some years ago. Am I correct?’
    ‘My father died fighting the Ui Fidgente in the service of the king of Cashel.’ It was Archú who interrupted and the boy spoke proudly.
    ‘A mercenary soldier,’ sneered Muadnat.
    ‘This court was not asked to make a judgment on the personality of Artgal,’ Sister Fidelma observed waspishly. ‘It is asked to adjudicate on law. Now, Artgal and Suanach were married …’
    ‘Against the wishes of her family,’ interposed Muadnat again.
    ‘I have already discerned that much,’ Fidelma agreed blandly. ‘But married they were. On the death of Artgal, Suanach continued to work her land and raise her son, Archú. A year ago, Suanach died.’
    ‘Then my so-called cousin came and claimed that all the land was his.’ Archú’s voice was bitter.
    ‘It is the law.’ Muadnat was smug. ‘The land belonged to Suanach. Her husband being a foreigner held no land. When Suanach died, then her land reverted to her family and in that family I stand as her next of kin. That is the law.’
    ‘He took everything,’ the youth complained bitterly.
    ‘It was mine to take. And you were not of the age of choice anyway.’
    ‘That is so,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘For this last year, under the law, as senior member of your family, Muadnat has been your guardian, Archú.’
    ‘Guardian? Slave master, you mean,’ scowled the youth. ‘I was forced to work on my own land for nothing more than my keep; I was treated worse than a hired worker and forced to eat and sleep in the cattle-pens. My mother’s family do not even accord
me the treatment they give to those they hire to work the land.’
    ‘I have already noted these facts,’ Fidelma sighed patiently.
    ‘We have no legal obligation to the boy,’ grunted Muadnat. ‘We gave him his keep.