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turned to Garrett.
    ‘My lord,’ she said, ‘I present to you Jarlath,
tánaiste
of the MacNamara clan.’

Two
Berrad Airecht
(Court Procedure)
    The judgements of a Brehon must be open to all in the kingdom. They should be held in a place where the clans may gather and it should be a place that is sacred, such as an ancient burial site, a dolmen or a cairn. All should be able to see and to hear.
    All of the people of the kingdom should hold themselves ready to be called as a witness.
    ‘G arrett MacNamara isn’t here, Brehon,’ said Fachtnan. He handed her a satchel, which she placed on the flat surface of the dolmen’s table stone at Poulnabrone, while he set up a desk for himself, arranging vellum, well sharpened quills and an ink horn on a low, flat stone beside the dolmen. Poulnabrone was the ancient judgement place for the people of the kingdom of the Burren. The dolmen was at the southern end of a large, rough field, paved with great slabs of limestone and littered with large, rounded boulders. A place of great solemnity, but also of great beauty, Mara always thought. In the grykes between the clints of limestone the small flowers of the Burren grew abundantly. Delicately pale flowers of the daisy-like mountain avens contrasted with the tight, pink, bud-like flowers of cat’s paw and stiff columns of dark-purple early orchids rose up from between the slabs of rock everywhere. The field was a large one and stretched northwards for a couple of hundred yards, and the stones that littered its surface made convenient seats for the audience. Mara undid her satchel, took from it a couple of scrolls which she placed on the flat table-like surface of the dolmen and then stored the satchel itself beside one of the upright supporting slabs. She looked around. No, there was no sign of Garrett, anywhere. She would have expected to find him beside her, fussing in his usual fashion and trying to emphasise his own importance.
    ‘Rhona and Peadar are coming down the road,’ said Aidan. ‘He’s not with them, though.’
    ‘Well, it’s the last case to be heard,’ said Mara, casting a quick glance around. Today was the eve of Bealtaine and the custom was to climb the mountain of Mullaghmore as soon as the judgement day cases had been resolved. I’m not waiting for him, she decided, and greeted the people of the kingdom, opening the proceedings with her usual briskness.
    The first case, involving a matter of a shared stream, was fairly quickly dealt with, each landowner agreeing heartily to Mara’s suggestion that they both devote a day’s labour to clearing the silt and pebbles from the stream’s pathway, thus ensuring that there was a plentiful supply of water and sufficient for both farms. The second was a divorce – not acrimonious, but a careful division of property had been made and the details had to be checked in public. The third was another straightforward affair of a boundary stone being moved and a long strip of land being stolen in order to plant extra oats. Mara imposed a fine, declared her intention of checking that the stone had been replaced and then looked around.
    ‘He’s definitely not here, Brehon,’ said Fachtnan in a low voice. ‘Nor is Slaney.’
    Mara looked all around. No, there was no sign of Garrett anywhere. She saw Rhona was also looking around, her hand shielding her eyes, so Mara sent Aidan over to fetch her. Already some of the younger men had moved over to the stone wall where dozens of bundles of hazel rods had been laid out, ready for the traditional bonfire and others were shouldering leather bags containing wine from Spain. Soon her husband, King Turlough Donn, would arrive and then all would begin the climb which would culminate in an enormous bonfire lit on the summit of Mullaghmore at the hour of midnight. This business with Garrett and his introduction of a new son and wife to his household would only take minutes, but Garrett had to be there and had to make the formal