Badger's Moon by Peter Tremayne

restrictions that someone of his culture found onerous and almost offensive. He was not entitled to make legal contracts without Fidelma’s permission and she was responsible for any debts or fines that he might incur. Neither was he allowed to have any legal responsibility in the rearing of their son Alchú. That was Fidelma’s responsibility alone. For Eadulf, his position as a ‘grey dog’ was a bitter legal concept in spite of the fact that, in reality, Colgú treated Eadulf as both friend and equal.
    What Eadulf found astonishing was that Fidelma’s people saw many matters that his culture would not even call transgressions worthy of severe punishment – if one could call fines and loss of rights a punishment. In Saxon society, death and mutilation and slavery were considered just punishment for the entire range of social and political transgressions, whereas in the Bretha Nemed the Brehons decreed that if a man kissed a woman against her will, he would have to pay her full honour price. If a man tried to indecently assault a woman, then the Cáin Adomnáin set the fine at the value of twenty-one cows.
    Truth was taken seriously in law. The Bretha Nemed stated that if a person wrongfully accused another of theft, or publicised an untrue story that caused shame, it required the payment of the victim’s honour price. Hence he could understand why Fidelma was now giving the tanner a fair warning.
    Lesren, however, would not be warned.
    ‘What I saw is the truth. Ask Goll, the woodcutter, if you do not believe me. Ask him why he had to pay me a fine of one screpall . I will say no more on the matter until you have done so.’
    ‘One screpall is no great sum to pay,’ muttered Eadulf.
    ‘A transgression of the law is great enough, no matter the outcome,’ snapped the tanner.
    ‘And what Brehon imposed this fine?’ asked Fidelma.
    ‘Aolú.’
    ‘And Aolú is dead,’ muttered Accobrán.
    Fidelma sighed impatiently. ‘Am I to believe that you disapproved of your daughter’s relationship with Gabrán because of his father, Goll, and this matter of the fine that you have mentioned?’
    Again the chin came up aggressively. ‘It is reason enough.’
    ‘What did Beccnat have to say about your disapproval? She was seventeen and beyond the age of choice. She had the right to decide her own future.’
    Lesren’s features wrinkled in a scowl. ‘She was my daughter. She refused to abide by my decision and look what happened to her. If only Escrach had not broken with Gabrán, he would not have pursued my daughter.’
    ‘Escrach?’ Fidelma glanced at him with quickened interest. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Gabrán was paying her attention until she made it clear that she was not interested in him. I warned my daughter not to encourage him.’
    ‘Daughters have rights once they reach the age of choice,’ Fidelma admonished him.
    ‘Daughters also have duties,’ replied the tanner angrily. ‘I had to chastise Beccnat when she spent nights away from home. Even to the end she refused to obey and those last three nights she spent away from home – well, I feared she would pay for it and she did. Gabrán was to blame.’
    ‘You are a stubborn man, Lesren,’ Accobrán broke in. ‘Gabrán was nowhere near here when your daughter died. No amount of accusations against Gabrán’s father will alter the fact that this can be proved by witnesses. And even with your prejudice, you cannot blame the deaths of Escrach and Ballgel on Gabrán. Why would he kill them and for what reason?’
    ‘To achieve what he has clearly done with you…to put you off his scent. To make it seem that there is a maniac at large here. I do not believe in maniacs. I will affirm it at every opportunity I am given. Gabrán killed my daughter.’
    ‘But why? For what reason would he have killed her? They were to marry.’ Fidelma’s voice was quiet but her question cut like a knife with its logic.
    Lesren stared at her.
    ‘Why?’ he repeated