Deed of Murder by Cora Harrison Page A

growing up and becoming responsible.
    ‘As far as I can remember, Moylan,’ she said carefully, ‘there is nothing about flax in the laws, except in so far as it forms part of a settlement in the case of a divorce. As in so many other cases in law we have to draw an analogy. Flax in this case has to be taken as a crop. Cathal pays a rent; something which covers not just the use of the land, but also the use of the equipment such as the looms, the spinning wheels, the scutching shed and the dyeing vats. We’ll have to look up Cáin Sóerraith tomorrow, but, for these three reasons – use of land, use of equipment and payment of an annual rent – I would be inclined to classify him just as a free client. So the answer to your question is probably that he does not have an honour price, but he is a free man.’
    ‘I see,’ said Moylan nodding his head wisely.
    ‘What made you ask the question?’ Shane sounded curious. ‘After all, Cathal O’Halloran wasn’t the one who was murdered. We’d only be thinking about his honour price if an offence had been committed against him.’
    ‘It’s always good to consider every aspect of the case,’ said Mara, though she herself was curious about why Moylan had wondered about the honour price of the flax master.
    ‘In any case, Cáin Sóerraith might come up in the summer examinations,’ said Aidan wisely.
    ‘Muiris asked you that question, didn’t he, Moylan? I saw you talking to him,’ said Hugh innocently.
    ‘It’s an interesting question, and I’m very glad that you brought it up,’ said Mara hastily, noting the angry glance that Moylan cast towards Hugh.
    ‘Why did Muiris ask Moylan that?’ wondered Shane.
    ‘I’ve been trying to decide that myself,’ confessed Moylan. ‘He came up to me and asked how I was getting on with my studies and when would I qualify as a lawyer and what would be my honour price.’
    ‘He was trying to find out if you are a fit husband for Cait,’ said Aidan with a loud guffaw.
    The other boys laughed heartily at that. Cait, Muiris’s daughter, was a very pretty girl with two thick flaxen braids and a pair of gorgeous, harebell-blue eyes. Even Fiona smiled a little at this.
    ‘I think, perhaps, that Muiris is interested in honour prices because of rising from being an ocaire to a bóaire two years ago. Do you remember that?’ asked Mara tactfully and Moylan neatly overbalanced Aidan with a quick push.
    ‘So he asked you about your own honour price first and then he went on to ask about Cathal’s,’ said Fiona shrewdly. ‘That sounds to me as though he was trying to disguise his real question – which was about Cathal’s honour price.’
    ‘Wondering whether it would be worth his while to murder him and then take over the flax garden.’ Aidan picked himself up from the ground and kicked Moylan on the leg.
    ‘But the fine for murder is twenty-one ounces of silver and double that for a secret and unlawful killing,’ said Hugh. ‘It doesn’t make sense for him to worry about whether Cathal’s honour is one or two ounces of silver, or even nothing.’
    ‘That’s very true,’ said Mara with an approving nod at him. ‘I think you boys should go back now; Fiona and I will join you tomorrow morning and we’ll talk it all through. A visit to the flax garden might be useful.’
    ‘Tell me about Muiris,’ said Fiona as they rode together, side by side, down the stone road towards the west.
    ‘Why do you want to know more about Muiris?’ Fiona was beginning to look better, thought Mara. She would be better still once she was back in the law school atmosphere where sharp wits rubbed up against each other and the day was punctuated with jokes and roars of laughter.
    ‘I noticed that you stiffened a bit when you heard that it was he who wanted to know about the honour price of a flax manager.’
    Mara looked at the girl with respect. ‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘but I can’t give you any particular reason why I