The Spider's Web Read Free Page A

He should be grateful for that.’
    ‘I will not comment on that,’ Fidelma replied coldly. ‘The sum of Archú’s case against you, Muadnat, is that he should inherit some of the land which belonged to his mother. Is this not so?’
    ‘His mother’s land returns to her family. He can only inherit that which belonged to his father and his father, being a foreigner, had no land in this country to leave him. Let him go to his father’s country if he wants land.’
    Fidelma continued to sit back in her chair, hands before her, her gaze now concentrated on Muadnat. Her fiery eyes had become slightly hooded and her expression seemed purposely bland.
    ‘When a person who is an ocáire, that is a small farmer, dies, then one seventh of the land is subjected to tax and paid to the chieftain for the upkeep of the clan territory. Has this been done?’
    ‘It has,’ interrupted the scriptor, looking up from making his record. ‘There is a disposition to that effect from the chieftain, Eber of Araglin, sister.’
    ‘Good. So the decision that this court has to make is now a straightforward one.’
    Fidelma turned slowly to Archú.
    ‘Your mother was the daughter and only child of a small farmer, an ocáire. On his death she stood as female heir and is entitled to a life interest in her father’s land. Normally, she cannot pass this land on to her husband or sons and on her death it reverts to the next of kin within her own family.’
    Muadnat drew himself up and for the first time his disgruntled features loosened in a satisfied expression. His eyes darted triumphantly at the younger man.
    ‘However,’ Fidelma’s voice suddenly took on an icy note which cut through the hall of the abbey, ‘if her husband was a foreigner, and in this case he was a Briton, he would have no land within
the clan territory. He can therefore leave nothing to his son. In these circumstances, the law is clear and it was our great judge, Brig Briugaid, who set the judgment which became the law on this matter. That is, in such circumstances, the mother is entitled to pass on the land to her son but with qualification. Of her lands, she can only bequeath land to the value of seven cumals which is the minimal property qualification for an ocáire or small farmer.’
    There was a silence as both plaintiff and defendant tried to understand the judgment. Sister Fidelma took pity on their puzzled expressions.
    ‘The judgment is in your favour, Archú,’ she smiled at the young man. ‘Your cousin occupies the land unlawfully now that you are of age. He must relinquish to you an amount of land to the extent of seven cumals.’
    Muadnat’s jaw dropped.
    ‘But … but the land scarcely extends seven cumals as it is. If he has seven cumals there will be nothing of it left for me.’
    Fidelma’s voice took on the manner of a master lecturing a pupil.
    ‘According to the Crith Gablach, the ancient law, seven cumals is the property qualification of an ocáire which is the right of Archú to receive,’ she intoned. ‘Further, for acting in violation of the law to the extent that Archú had no recourse but to come before me with this claim against you, you must pay a fine of one cumal to this court.’
    Muadnat’s face was white. His expression had become a mask of rage.
    ‘This is an injustice!’ he growled.
    Fidelma met his fury calmly.
    ‘Speak not of injustice to me, Muadnat. You are kin to this youth. When his mother died, it was your duty to nurture and protect him. Yet you sought to deprive him of his lawful dues, sought to make him work for you without payment, forcing him to live in worse conditions than a slave. I doubt whether you have
an understanding of justice. It would be justice if I made you pay further compensation to him for what you have done. As it is, I am tempering justice with mercy.’
    The words came coldly from Fidelma, causing the dour faced man to blink as if physically assaulted by the flood of her contempt.
    He