A Secret and Unlawful Killing (28 page)
Read A Secret and Unlawful Killing Online
Authors: Cora Harrison
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery & Detective
‘So you will ask me why I am intervening now, why I am speaking to you about this second murder in your community, the murder of an elderly man on the eve of Michaelmas.’
Again there was a pause, but no one moved and no one spoke. Turlough turned over one large hand and examined the palm as if to read something from the lines engraved upon it.
‘I come from a warlike race,’ he said suddenly, raising his
head proudly. ‘My great ancestor, Brian Boru, named Brian of the Tributes, slew many men in his time, and so did the sons and the grandsons and the great-grandsons that came after him. Their names and their deeds will be well known to you; the bards and the
fíles
have repeated them in song and stories. And so have the names of the other O’Briens been renowned: my namesake, Turlough of the Triumphs, son of Teige-of-the-Narrow-Waters; Dermot, son of Turlough; Brian-of-the-Battles, his grandson; Donough-of-the-Chessboard; and then there was Teige the Bone-splitter; his grandson, Teige of Coad, my own father, son of Turlough Beg; and then my father’s successors, my uncles, Conor na Sróna, he of the big nose; and The Gilladuff – all of these men have fought with sword in hand from the age when they could first heft the weight of a weapon, but none of them …’
head proudly. ‘My great ancestor, Brian Boru, named Brian of the Tributes, slew many men in his time, and so did the sons and the grandsons and the great-grandsons that came after him. Their names and their deeds will be well known to you; the bards and the
fíles
have repeated them in song and stories. And so have the names of the other O’Briens been renowned: my namesake, Turlough of the Triumphs, son of Teige-of-the-Narrow-Waters; Dermot, son of Turlough; Brian-of-the-Battles, his grandson; Donough-of-the-Chessboard; and then there was Teige the Bone-splitter; his grandson, Teige of Coad, my own father, son of Turlough Beg; and then my father’s successors, my uncles, Conor na Sróna, he of the big nose; and The Gilladuff – all of these men have fought with sword in hand from the age when they could first heft the weight of a weapon, but none of them …’
Here he smashed down a large fist on the capstone of the dolmen and raised his voice from the low steady tone to a warlike shout.
‘Not one of them, I say, would have murdered an old man who had seen him bedding a harlot. Not one of them!’
Mara tried to look at Garrett MacNamara without turning her head and then realized that everyone else in the large assembly was doing the same. It appeared that Niall had confided in Maol and the word had spread rapidly through the Burren. This accounted for Slaney’s absence today. Hastily, Mara turned her eyes back to Turlough. He had paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead and now his voice was very low.
‘And not one of them,’ he repeated, but this time so quietly that the crowd strained to hear his words, ‘not one of
them would have tried to place the guilt of his crime upon the innocent shoulders of his young cousin.’
them would have tried to place the guilt of his crime upon the innocent shoulders of his young cousin.’
Suddenly came the bell-like beating of the wings of ten great white swans, flying east above the heads of the crowd. Everyone looked up. Those swans would not be seen again until spring. Turlough watched them for a moment until they disappeared and when he spoke again his voice was still low, and now broken with sorrow.
‘Now I name him to you, I name this man who is the secret and unlawful killer of Aengus MacNamara, the miller of Oughtmama: it is Murrough Mac Turlough, Mac Teige, Mac Turlough Beg, descendant of Brian Boru, once my son, but now a son no longer. He has fled to England, and the kingdoms of Thomond, Corcomroe and Burren will know him no more. Today here, before you all, I declare him to be a man without honour.’ He paused for a moment, his eyes bent on the ground and then he raised them and said slowly and heavily: ‘That man has lost his honour price.’
Then there was a murmur from the crowd. It was a terrible thing for anyone to lose their honour price. The
lóg n-enech,
the price of his face, was the most important possession of any man in the Gaelic kingdom. Without that, he was as nothing, just a
cu glas
, a homeless and landless cur. The people of the Burren glanced at each other with horror on their faces. There was compassion in their faces, also, but the compassion was for the father.
lóg n-enech,
the price of his face, was the most important possession of any man in the Gaelic kingdom. Without that, he was as nothing, just a
cu glas
, a homeless and landless cur. The people of the Burren glanced at each other with horror on their faces. There was compassion in their faces, also, but the compassion was for the father.
‘Now go in peace,’ said Turlough in broken tones. ‘And in your charity, pray tonight for your king who has one son dying and the other lost to him forever.’
He watched them as they went, moving quickly and
silently as if they sought the shelter of their own homes and fireplaces as a refuge from such heavy sorrow. Rapidly they left the townland of Poulnabrone, walking across the great stone slabs in twos and threes, heads together, no loud voices, just the swelling of a shocked murmur, and the king watched them until the sound of their words ceased and all were gone. Then Turlough crossed over and sat beside Mara.
silently as if they sought the shelter of their own homes and fireplaces as a refuge from such heavy sorrow. Rapidly they left the townland of Poulnabrone, walking across the great stone slabs in twos and threes, heads together, no loud voices, just the swelling of a shocked murmur, and the king watched them until the sound of their words ceased and all were gone. Then Turlough crossed over and sat beside Mara.
‘Say something to comfort me,’ he said with all the childlike simplicity which was so much part of the man. He held out his large hand to her.
Mara took his hand and laced her long fingers in between his.
‘With the help of God and of the Blessed Mary, Mother of the Holy Child,’ she said, ‘I will give you a son to be proud of.’
My Lady Judge
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A SECRET AND UNLAWFUL KILLING. Copyright © 2008 by Cora Harrison. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
First published as
Michaelmas Tribute: A Burren Mystery
by Macmillan, an imprint of Pam Macmillan Ltd
Michaelmas Tribute: A Burren Mystery
by Macmillan, an imprint of Pam Macmillan Ltd
eISBN 9781466824010
First eBook Edition : June 2012
The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover edition as follows:
Harrison, Cora.
[Michaelmas tribute]
A secret and unlawful killing : a mystery of medieval Ireland / Cora Harrison. — 1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
Previously published in Great Britain under title: Michaelmas tribute, 2008.
ISBN 978-0-312-37268-2
1. Women judges — Ireland — Burren — Fiction. 2. Burren (Ireland) — History — Fiction. 3. Law, Celtic — History — Fiction. 4. Law — Ireland — History — 16th century — Fiction. 5. Community life — Ireland — History — 16th century — Fiction. 6. Ireland — Social life and customs — 16th century — Fiction. I. Title.
PR6058.A6883M53 2008
823’.914 — dc22
2008020346
First Minotaur Books Paperback Edition: December 2009
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