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Authors: Cora Harrison
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Mahon O’Brien,’ she said frankly, after a minute’s pause to pick the right words. If it had been anyone else, she thought, she would just say: ‘Oh, do tell,’ and then they would have a delicious gossip together.
Ardal swallowed a large gulp of the spiced ale, but when he spoke it was with no reluctance and his voice was calm and practical.
‘Father Denis is a man in his early thirties,’ he said. ‘Someone pointed him out to me last night and that’s what I would judge him to be. I hadn’t seen him since he was a boy.’
‘Last night!’ exclaimed Mara.
Ardal nodded. His face was set into serious lines, but his eyes looked worried. She resolved not to interrupt him again.
‘Yes, Father Denis is spending Christmas here at the abbey.’
With his holy father, the abbot, thought Mara, a bubble of laughter suppressed within her throat.
Ardal took a bite of his pie and then with a look of appreciation took another almost immediately. Mara sipped her ale and tried to look relaxed.
‘Yes, I would say that he is about thirty,’ continued Ardal. ‘It would be a young age for promotion, but Father Denis had hoped to become the abbot of Knockmoy since the former abbot was removed by the head of the Cistercian Order at the beginning of this month.’ He looked at her, inviting comment.
‘I see,’ said Mara thoughtfully. ‘And why was the former abbot removed?’
Ardal coughed with a slight air of embarrassment. ‘Apparently he was in the habit of having his hair washed by a woman.’
Mara nodded. She did not trust her voice to comment on this so she gazed steadily at the fire until the rising giggle had been stifled.
‘Anyway, the abbey of Knockmoy is within the territory of Mahon O’Brien.’
‘The uncle of Father Denis,’ commented Mara, her voice now under control.
‘Just so! However, Mahon O’Brien refused to back his application, in fact he declared his intention of reporting to Rome that Father Denis is the son of a professed priest and an unmarried woman and, as illegitimate, would be barred from such high office.’
‘I see,’ said Mara thoughtfully. Under Brehon law there was no such thing as illegitimacy; the only question was whether the father acknowledged the son. However, under Roman law and English law, the position, she knew, was quite different. ‘It does happen, though, doesn’t it?’ she queried. ‘I thought that there was something like this with the Bishop of Killaloe and his son who is an archdeacon.’
‘Oh, it happens,’ agreed Ardal, ‘as long as no one bothers Rome about it.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Mara. ‘A few sons here or there or a few wives for that matter, shouldn’t condemn a priest. It would make him more human,’ she added light-heartedly.
Ardal gave another one of his polite coughs and Mara returned to the subject. ‘So this Father Denis would have little reason to be fond of his uncle Mahon O’Brien.’
‘Little reason,’ confirmed Ardal.
‘And where did he stay last night, Ardal? Do you know?’
‘I think,’ said Ardal thoughtfully, ‘that he would have stayed last night at the abbot’s house.’
‘And so would have gone to church with him at prime,’ said Mara. But did he return to the abbot’s house once the service was finished, she wondered? She looked over at Ardal and wished that he were different. What she needed now was someone to debate possibilities, even to make wild guesses. She missed her law scholars. She normally discussed all her cases with them. By now they would all have been speculating freely and her mind would have taken sparks from theirs.
‘Ardal, you have been very good,’ she said decisively. ‘I wonder could I ask you to do two more things for me. Could you ask your cousin, Father Peter O’Lochlainn, to come and see me for a few minutes and then could you go over to the guest house and tell Banna that the abbot is having her husband’s body coffined and that I will be with her as
Ardal swallowed a large gulp of the spiced ale, but when he spoke it was with no reluctance and his voice was calm and practical.
‘Father Denis is a man in his early thirties,’ he said. ‘Someone pointed him out to me last night and that’s what I would judge him to be. I hadn’t seen him since he was a boy.’
‘Last night!’ exclaimed Mara.
Ardal nodded. His face was set into serious lines, but his eyes looked worried. She resolved not to interrupt him again.
‘Yes, Father Denis is spending Christmas here at the abbey.’
With his holy father, the abbot, thought Mara, a bubble of laughter suppressed within her throat.
Ardal took a bite of his pie and then with a look of appreciation took another almost immediately. Mara sipped her ale and tried to look relaxed.
‘Yes, I would say that he is about thirty,’ continued Ardal. ‘It would be a young age for promotion, but Father Denis had hoped to become the abbot of Knockmoy since the former abbot was removed by the head of the Cistercian Order at the beginning of this month.’ He looked at her, inviting comment.
‘I see,’ said Mara thoughtfully. ‘And why was the former abbot removed?’
Ardal coughed with a slight air of embarrassment. ‘Apparently he was in the habit of having his hair washed by a woman.’
Mara nodded. She did not trust her voice to comment on this so she gazed steadily at the fire until the rising giggle had been stifled.
‘Anyway, the abbey of Knockmoy is within the territory of Mahon O’Brien.’
‘The uncle of Father Denis,’ commented Mara, her voice now under control.
‘Just so! However, Mahon O’Brien refused to back his application, in fact he declared his intention of reporting to Rome that Father Denis is the son of a professed priest and an unmarried woman and, as illegitimate, would be barred from such high office.’
‘I see,’ said Mara thoughtfully. Under Brehon law there was no such thing as illegitimacy; the only question was whether the father acknowledged the son. However, under Roman law and English law, the position, she knew, was quite different. ‘It does happen, though, doesn’t it?’ she queried. ‘I thought that there was something like this with the Bishop of Killaloe and his son who is an archdeacon.’
‘Oh, it happens,’ agreed Ardal, ‘as long as no one bothers Rome about it.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Mara. ‘A few sons here or there or a few wives for that matter, shouldn’t condemn a priest. It would make him more human,’ she added light-heartedly.
Ardal gave another one of his polite coughs and Mara returned to the subject. ‘So this Father Denis would have little reason to be fond of his uncle Mahon O’Brien.’
‘Little reason,’ confirmed Ardal.
‘And where did he stay last night, Ardal? Do you know?’
‘I think,’ said Ardal thoughtfully, ‘that he would have stayed last night at the abbot’s house.’
‘And so would have gone to church with him at prime,’ said Mara. But did he return to the abbot’s house once the service was finished, she wondered? She looked over at Ardal and wished that he were different. What she needed now was someone to debate possibilities, even to make wild guesses. She missed her law scholars. She normally discussed all her cases with them. By now they would all have been speculating freely and her mind would have taken sparks from theirs.
‘Ardal, you have been very good,’ she said decisively. ‘I wonder could I ask you to do two more things for me. Could you ask your cousin, Father Peter O’Lochlainn, to come and see me for a few minutes and then could you go over to the guest house and tell Banna that the abbot is having her husband’s body coffined and that I will be with her as
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