approval.
“You may send for Brother Conchobar.”
Sister Fidelma smiled briefly in acknowledgment.
“And if we are to take this star chart seriously as evidence,” she went on as Brother Cass departed on his mission, “then I shall wantto have proof that it was drawn up by Eolang at the time it is claimed. I shall want to examine those brethren with whom he discussed it and its conclusions. And, having some slight knowledge of the art, I shall want to see it for myself.”
Brehon Gormán raised an eyebrow.
“It sounds as if you do not trust my judgment?” There was a dangerous quality to his voice.
“You are the Brehon,” Fidelma replied softly.
“When you sit in your court and pronounce your judgment, having heard all the evidence and the plea from myself, as a
dálaigh
defending my client, then your judgment demands and receives respect. Until that time, I shall presume that you have not made any judgment, for if you had that would have been contrary to law.”
Her features seemed inscrutable but he noticed her green eyes glimmering with an angry fire as they returned his stare.
The Brehon’s cheeks crimsoned.
“I… of course, I have made no judgment. All that I have done is point out to you that I have accepted this chart as essential evidence. Also that the people to whom Brother Eolang spoke about its conclusions are satisfactory witnesses. The chart and witnesses will be presented to the court.”
“Do you have the chart here?”
“I have it and written on it is testimony as to when it was written and its interpretation in the very hand of Brother Eolang and witnessed.”
“Show me,” demanded Fidelma.
Brehon Gormán drew a vellum from a case and spread it on the table between them.
“Note the date and time and Eolang’s signature in the corner. You will also note that a Brother Iarlug has signed his name as witness and dated it on the same day.”
“This Brother Iarlug is available to testify?”
“Of course, as are Brothers Brugach, Senach and Dubán to whom Eolang spoke of his prediction. They all will testify when this chart was drawn up and when he spoke to them.”
Fidelma pursed her lips skeptically.
“With five of the brethren, including the victim, forewarned of the day when the abbot would commit this alleged murder, it seems a curiosity that Brother Eolang was not given protection against the event.”
Brehon Gormán shook his head, his face serious.
“You cannot alter fate. Fate has no reprieve.”
“That is a concept brought to us by Rome,” Fidelma rebuked. “Our own wise men say that whatever limits us, we call fate. Fate is not something which is inevitable whether we act or not. It is only inevitable if we do not act.”
Brehon Gormán glowered at her for a moment but she was oblivious to his stare.
“Now, let us examine this chart. You may explain it to me, as you confess to be something of an amateur in its deciphering.”
It took a moment or two before Brehon Gormán became involved in the task and, in spite of his antagonism to Fidelma, his voice took on an enthusiastic tone.
“The chart is easy to follow. See here—” He thrust out a finger to the symbols on the vellum.
Sister Fidelma bent over it, silently thanking the time she had spent with old Conchobar learning something of the mysteries of the art.
“It seems that Eolang was so worried that he asked a question ‘Am I in mortal danger from Abbot Rígán?’ This is called a horary question and the chart is timed for the birth of the question. It is like looking at a natal chart but, in this case, it is the birth of the question.”
Fidelma suppressed a sigh of impatience. She knew well what a horary question was. But she held her tongue.
“It seems from the chart that Eolang was ruled by Mercuryruling the Virgo ascendant with the moon as co-ruler. His enemy, the abbot, is represented by the ruler of the seventh house, signified by Jupiter in the seventh house in Pisces.”
“Very
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