Chain of Evidence
A Burren Mystery
By Cora HarrisonSevern House Publishers Ltd
Copyright © 2013 Cora Harrison
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7278-8245-5
CHAPTER 1Cáin Lánamna
(The Law of Marriage)
There are nine forms of union:
1. The union of joint property where both partners contribute to the wealth of the couple.
2. The union of a woman on a man's property.
3. The union of a man on a woman's property.
4. The union of a man visiting with the approval of her kin.
5. The union of a man and a willing woman without the approval of her kin.
6. The union of a man and an abducted woman.
7. The union of a man and a secretly visited woman.
8. The union that follows rape.
9. The union of two insane people.
It had been an early spring in the west of Ireland.
In the kingdom of the Burren, mild south-westerly winds from the nearby Atlantic Ocean had put a temporary end to winter frosts by the middle of January. By the second day of February the sunken lanes in its valleys had been filled with pale yellow primroses and dark purple violets. Soon afterwards the willow had begun to quicken and burst forth into fluffy buds, the pink haze of the tiny herb robert spread over the ditches and the grass of the fields was sprinkled with cowslips. An early spring, said the optimists who began making plans for moving their cows to summer pasture.
But by the thirty-first day of March, just as soon as the bare thorny twigs of hedgerows had become covered with white blossoms, the traditional saying 'the little winter of the blackthorn' had come true and the air turned icy. Winds from the north-east scoured the land. Showers of hail and of heavy, icy rain drowned the dry fields and puddles sprang up even on the limestone lands of the Burren. The cattle, over-wintering on the clumps of sweet grass that grew between the heat-retaining limestone rocks of the High Burren, grouped together in the shelter of stone walls and turned their backs on the arctic winds. Farmers slept little on these freezing nights, but continually checked on in-calf cows, trying to bring those near their time into the shelter of the stone barns or cabins close to their houses. Even as April neared to an end, the winds and the rain still continued and the grass made poor growth. The riches of the kingdom lay in its cattle and this late spring was a worry to the farmers. By now the cows should have been taken down from the high limestone plateaux and the mountain sides to feed on the lush grasses of the valleys, but it seemed as though winter still had a grip on the land.
A fit evening to mourn the dead, thought Mara, as she rode her horse up the Carron Mountain towards the MacNamara tower house. The tánaiste (heir) of the clan, an unmarried man in his late sixties, had died and Garrett MacNamara, taoiseach (chieftain) of the MacNamaras was holding the funeral ceremonies at the castle.
As Brehon of the Burren, in charge of law and order, Mara felt obliged to attend every wake – those particularly Celtic occasions when the dead are mourned by a night of singing, dancing and storytelling; and by the consumption of large amounts of food and drink. It was, she knew, a time when the bonds between relatives and neighbours were renewed and she recognised the importance of honouring the life of the newly deceased. However, personally, on this particular evening, she grudged the time. This was a very busy season of the year for her. Tomorrow would be the eve of the festival of Bealtaine, and was traditi
