passenger before,’ Murchad continued, in a heavy tone. ‘I do not intend to lose another. Therefore, I am forced to tell you again that you must remain in your cabins, or below decks, should any further bad weather strike. Then you will only come on deck at my specific orders. In calm weather, of course, you may come on deck but only when one of my men is there to keep a watchful eye on you.’
The red-haired Brother Adamrae was frowning.
‘We are adults, Captain, not children,’ he protested. ‘We paid for our passage, we did not expect to be confined as if we were … criminals.’ He had paused a moment to search out a suitable word.
Cian was nodding in agreement.
‘Brother Adamrae does have a point, Captain.’
‘You are not trained sailors,’ Murchad countered brusquely. ‘The deck of a ship can be treacherous in bad weather unless you know what you are doing.’
Cian flushed with annoyance.
‘Not all of us have spent our lives closeted within abbey walls. I was a warrior and—’
The grim-faced Brother Tola raised his voice in interruption to add to the debate.
‘Because a silly woman who, by all accounts, was too sick to know what she was doing, went on deck when she should not and was lost overboard, surely there is no need to make us all suffer?’
There was an angry exclamation from Sister Crella. She sprang up, leaning across the table.
‘Apologise for those words, Brother Tola! Muirgel was the daughter of nobility before whom, if you did not wear that brown homespun robe, you would have to fall on your knees as they walked by you. Muirgel was my cousin and my friend. How dare you insult her?’ Her voice had risen hysterically.
Sister Ainder, tall and commanding, rose and, without any apparent effort, drew Crella from the table and led her away to the cabins, making strange noises like a mother comforting her child.
Brother Tola sat looking uncomfortable at the reaction he had provoked.
‘What I meant to say was that we paid our passage money, as Brother Adamrae has said. What if we refuse to obey this order?’
‘Then the captain has the right to imprison you.’ Fidelma spoke quietly and yet her voice penetrated the muttering which greeted Tola’s s words so that a deathly hush fell as everyone turned towards her.
Brother Tola was frowning at her, clearly disapproving of what he considered to be her impertinence.
‘Oh – and by what right?’ he demanded. ‘And how do you know?’
Fidelma glanced at Murchad as if ignoring his questions.
‘Do you own this vessel, Murchad?’
The captain replied with a curt nod, although he seemed puzzled by her question.
‘And where is your home port?’
‘Ardmore.’
‘The ship, then, is to all intent and purposes, subject to the laws of Eireann.’
‘I suppose so,’ agreed Murchad reluctantly, not understanding what she was getting at.
‘Then that is the answer to Brother Tola’s question,’ she explained, not bothering to turn to him.
Brother Tola was not appeased.
‘It is not.’
Only now did Fidelma look towards him and without humour.
‘Yes, it is. The Muirbretha, the sea-laws, apply in this matter.’
Brother Tola looked astonished, and then his features formed in a patronising smile.
‘And what would you know of such laws?’
Fidelma sighed and started to open her mouth but Cian cut in.
‘Because she is a dálaigh , an advocate of the courts. Because
she is holder of the degree of anruth.’ There was a scathing tone to his voice.
Everyone knew that the level of anruth was only one degree below the highest qualification that the ecclesiastic and secular colleges could bestow.
In the moment of silence which followed Cian’s announcement, Sister Ainder returned to the cabin.
‘Crella is resting,’ she announced, unaware of the new tension. ‘We must remember that she was Sister Muirgel’s close friend and relative. Her death has been a great shock to her. It does not need thoughtless remarks to be
The red-haired Brother Adamrae was frowning.
‘We are adults, Captain, not children,’ he protested. ‘We paid for our passage, we did not expect to be confined as if we were … criminals.’ He had paused a moment to search out a suitable word.
Cian was nodding in agreement.
‘Brother Adamrae does have a point, Captain.’
‘You are not trained sailors,’ Murchad countered brusquely. ‘The deck of a ship can be treacherous in bad weather unless you know what you are doing.’
Cian flushed with annoyance.
‘Not all of us have spent our lives closeted within abbey walls. I was a warrior and—’
The grim-faced Brother Tola raised his voice in interruption to add to the debate.
‘Because a silly woman who, by all accounts, was too sick to know what she was doing, went on deck when she should not and was lost overboard, surely there is no need to make us all suffer?’
There was an angry exclamation from Sister Crella. She sprang up, leaning across the table.
‘Apologise for those words, Brother Tola! Muirgel was the daughter of nobility before whom, if you did not wear that brown homespun robe, you would have to fall on your knees as they walked by you. Muirgel was my cousin and my friend. How dare you insult her?’ Her voice had risen hysterically.
Sister Ainder, tall and commanding, rose and, without any apparent effort, drew Crella from the table and led her away to the cabins, making strange noises like a mother comforting her child.
Brother Tola sat looking uncomfortable at the reaction he had provoked.
‘What I meant to say was that we paid our passage money, as Brother Adamrae has said. What if we refuse to obey this order?’
‘Then the captain has the right to imprison you.’ Fidelma spoke quietly and yet her voice penetrated the muttering which greeted Tola’s s words so that a deathly hush fell as everyone turned towards her.
Brother Tola was frowning at her, clearly disapproving of what he considered to be her impertinence.
‘Oh – and by what right?’ he demanded. ‘And how do you know?’
Fidelma glanced at Murchad as if ignoring his questions.
‘Do you own this vessel, Murchad?’
The captain replied with a curt nod, although he seemed puzzled by her question.
‘And where is your home port?’
‘Ardmore.’
‘The ship, then, is to all intent and purposes, subject to the laws of Eireann.’
‘I suppose so,’ agreed Murchad reluctantly, not understanding what she was getting at.
‘Then that is the answer to Brother Tola’s question,’ she explained, not bothering to turn to him.
Brother Tola was not appeased.
‘It is not.’
Only now did Fidelma look towards him and without humour.
‘Yes, it is. The Muirbretha, the sea-laws, apply in this matter.’
Brother Tola looked astonished, and then his features formed in a patronising smile.
‘And what would you know of such laws?’
Fidelma sighed and started to open her mouth but Cian cut in.
‘Because she is a dálaigh , an advocate of the courts. Because
she is holder of the degree of anruth.’ There was a scathing tone to his voice.
Everyone knew that the level of anruth was only one degree below the highest qualification that the ecclesiastic and secular colleges could bestow.
In the moment of silence which followed Cian’s announcement, Sister Ainder returned to the cabin.
‘Crella is resting,’ she announced, unaware of the new tension. ‘We must remember that she was Sister Muirgel’s close friend and relative. Her death has been a great shock to her. It does not need thoughtless remarks to be
Similar Books
