Cross of Vengeance by Cora Harrison Page A

his men to fetch her and to lead the hunt for Hans Kaufmann himself. She was sure that he and his men had kept a good watch overnight on the boundaries of the sanctuary land.
    And that meant that Hans Kaufmann, the German pilgrim, had been killed by someone from the inn, or from Father MacMahon’s house, or from the house of the remaining
coarb
, or heir of the monks of Kilnaboy, Nechtan O’Quinn. No outsider could have easily got through the guard on the boundaries. Only one road led into and out of Kilnaboy.
    ‘Do you feel sorry for him, Brehon?’ That was Domhnall. Her grandson’s shrewd eyes were fixed on her as she stood meditatively looking at the naked body.
    ‘I think I do, Domhnall,’ she said honestly. ‘He didn’t go about things the right way – it would have been better if he tried to persuade rather than to destroy, but he should not have been killed. That is a crime and a crime that was committed in our kingdom, so it is something that must be solved.’ Yes, I do feel grief, she thought, looking at the magnificent specimen of manhood, stretched out as though on a butcher’s slab.
    ‘Yes,’ she said aloud, ‘yes, I am sorry for him – he had his life ahead of him – he is probably only in his late twenties and perhaps as he grew older he would grow more tolerant and allow people to have their own beliefs and not try to change them. It’s sad when anyone doesn’t get a choice to repent of the errors of their youth. He was a fanatic, I suppose, and he died because of that.’ She wasn’t sure whether Domhnall understood her or not, but he nodded in that sage, serious way of his and she did not insult him by explaining further.
    Fanaticism – I was right to mistrust it, her thoughts went on, though who could have foreseen that this would have been the ending of the pomp and ceremony of yesterday?
    ‘It’s something that you should remember, both of you,’ she said aloud, ‘and it is especially important if you become Brehons; people’s beliefs are important and should always be respected and listened to. Now,’ she said, changing her tone, ‘I have planned a shock for everyone at Kilnaboy. I’ve asked the O’Lochlainn to bring everyone here, but I haven’t told him why. I would like to notice their reactions – where should we stand so that we are out of the way and can watch without them seeing us?’
    ‘That’s clever,’ said Slevin with an admiring glance and then he gasped. ‘But Brehon, what about the prioress, and the other two ladies, her sisters; won’t they drop dead with shock when they see a naked man?’ He giggled nervously and Domhnall clapped his hand over his mouth, his dark brown eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement.
    ‘I didn’t drop dead with shock,’ said Mara with a shrug, but she knew that they regarded her as ‘the Brehon’, not as a delicately nurtured lady. ‘Let’s find a place to stand,’ she went on.
    ‘Over there,’ said Slevin promptly, pointing to a large gorse bush on the south side of the small, grassy enclosure. ‘They’ll come up that path and they’ll see the body on the tomb and that will keep them looking that way – in fact, you could say that they won’t be able to tear their eyes away from it.’ He gave another quick nervous giggle.
    ‘Let’s try,’ said Domhnall. ‘Brehon, you and Slevin go and stand by the gorse bush and I’ll come along the path and see whether I notice you.’
    ‘Better still, that sounds like Finbar coming – quick, let’s get over there and see whether he notices,’ said Slevin.
    Finbar was running fast, judging by the pounding of his feet, and they barely had time to get over beside the exuberantly flowering gorse bush before he burst in, gasping, ‘Brehon!’
    Not something else! thought Mara, but Finbar didn’t look distressed, just puzzled at their absence as he drew to a halt. Although he had already seen the marble-like figure on the slab, it drew his eye instantly and he