from behind them, cleared his throat in a diplomatic manner and Mara looked back.
‘Yes, Moylan,’ she said gravely, suppressing a grin at his tact and good manners. A year ago he would have impetuously joined into the conversation.
‘Fintan MacNamara at the smithy makes chains like that, Brehon,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen them on the shelves up there – and they would be about a yard long.’
‘That’s right, Moylan.’ Ardal nodded his approval. ‘And these bull chains are always made from slender flat links because it is much easier to slot them through than if they are thick.’
‘So a chain like this would be possessed by many people on the Burren,’ put in Fiona and Ardal gave her a tender smile.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I would say that there wouldn’t be a cabin or a barn in the whole of the kingdom that would not have some of those chains stored in them. We’re just coming near to the spot, now,’ he added. With an air of relief, he said, ‘It looks as though an effort has been made to clean the place up.’
Bother, thought Mara, feeling annoyed with herself. I should have sent orders for the place to be left alone. It had, of course, at first seemed not to be a crime, but an unfortunate accident – in fact, it might still turn out to be that, but the more she thought of Ardal’s strange story about a chain around the leg of the dead man, the more she felt that this death would turn out to be a secret and unlawful killing, something that she, as Brehon of the Burren, would have to investigate and allocate a punishment to the guilty person.
‘Just about here,’ said Ardal, checking his beautiful mare with a gentle shake of the reins. ‘Yes, I remember that gorse bush was just in line with the body. You can see it is broken on the hillside edge of it. I reckoned that the herd of cows did that.’ He jumped lightly from the back of his horse, looped her reins over a stump of a willow bush and went to the head of Mara’s horse.
‘There’s a good stone here, Brehon,’ he said leading her towards a large flat boulder by the side of the road and helping her to dismount and then carefully performing the same service for Fiona while the boys leaped athletically from their ponies and stood looking in dismayed silence at the spot where Garrett’s body had lain.
About ten yards of roadway had been shovelled clean – had probably even been swabbed down with buckets of water from the nearby river – as the road seemed extraordinarily clean in comparison with the rest of the route. Mara compressed her lips, angry with herself for not being on the spot earlier, or at least not to have sent an urgent message.
‘We’ll search the sweepings, Brehon.’ Fachtnan was at her side and seemed to know her thoughts. He spoke consolingly and then ordered Shane and Hugh to use their knives to cut some strong twigs from the goat willow bush so that the scholars could rake through the debris at the side of the road.
Mara looked around her. The spot where Garrett’s body had lain was well chosen. It was on a small road that ran through a valley between the mountain sides. Looking around she realised that it would be completely hidden from the castle itself. Nothing but a small cabin could be glimpsed from that spot and on a day when most of the inhabitants of the Burren were up on the mountain getting ready to celebrate the festival of Bealtaine, there would be no one in the fields or attending to the calving cows.
‘Search carefully for the chain,’ she said coming over to her scholars and looking down at the cowpats that they were forking through with their sticks.
‘At least the wind has dried them out,’ said Ardal in a low voice. ‘The stench was terrible when I came upon the body. I had just called in at the castle and was taking this route as a short cut back when I saw all the crows pecking at something. I thought it was some unfortunate cow or a calf and then realised . . .’
‘A
‘Yes, Moylan,’ she said gravely, suppressing a grin at his tact and good manners. A year ago he would have impetuously joined into the conversation.
‘Fintan MacNamara at the smithy makes chains like that, Brehon,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen them on the shelves up there – and they would be about a yard long.’
‘That’s right, Moylan.’ Ardal nodded his approval. ‘And these bull chains are always made from slender flat links because it is much easier to slot them through than if they are thick.’
‘So a chain like this would be possessed by many people on the Burren,’ put in Fiona and Ardal gave her a tender smile.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I would say that there wouldn’t be a cabin or a barn in the whole of the kingdom that would not have some of those chains stored in them. We’re just coming near to the spot, now,’ he added. With an air of relief, he said, ‘It looks as though an effort has been made to clean the place up.’
Bother, thought Mara, feeling annoyed with herself. I should have sent orders for the place to be left alone. It had, of course, at first seemed not to be a crime, but an unfortunate accident – in fact, it might still turn out to be that, but the more she thought of Ardal’s strange story about a chain around the leg of the dead man, the more she felt that this death would turn out to be a secret and unlawful killing, something that she, as Brehon of the Burren, would have to investigate and allocate a punishment to the guilty person.
‘Just about here,’ said Ardal, checking his beautiful mare with a gentle shake of the reins. ‘Yes, I remember that gorse bush was just in line with the body. You can see it is broken on the hillside edge of it. I reckoned that the herd of cows did that.’ He jumped lightly from the back of his horse, looped her reins over a stump of a willow bush and went to the head of Mara’s horse.
‘There’s a good stone here, Brehon,’ he said leading her towards a large flat boulder by the side of the road and helping her to dismount and then carefully performing the same service for Fiona while the boys leaped athletically from their ponies and stood looking in dismayed silence at the spot where Garrett’s body had lain.
About ten yards of roadway had been shovelled clean – had probably even been swabbed down with buckets of water from the nearby river – as the road seemed extraordinarily clean in comparison with the rest of the route. Mara compressed her lips, angry with herself for not being on the spot earlier, or at least not to have sent an urgent message.
‘We’ll search the sweepings, Brehon.’ Fachtnan was at her side and seemed to know her thoughts. He spoke consolingly and then ordered Shane and Hugh to use their knives to cut some strong twigs from the goat willow bush so that the scholars could rake through the debris at the side of the road.
Mara looked around her. The spot where Garrett’s body had lain was well chosen. It was on a small road that ran through a valley between the mountain sides. Looking around she realised that it would be completely hidden from the castle itself. Nothing but a small cabin could be glimpsed from that spot and on a day when most of the inhabitants of the Burren were up on the mountain getting ready to celebrate the festival of Bealtaine, there would be no one in the fields or attending to the calving cows.
‘Search carefully for the chain,’ she said coming over to her scholars and looking down at the cowpats that they were forking through with their sticks.
‘At least the wind has dried them out,’ said Ardal in a low voice. ‘The stench was terrible when I came upon the body. I had just called in at the castle and was taking this route as a short cut back when I saw all the crows pecking at something. I thought it was some unfortunate cow or a calf and then realised . . .’
‘A
Similar Books
