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anyone that I spoke of this; I don’t want to make a bad situation worse,’ she added quickly.
    Donogh O’Hickey frowned heavily, drank some wine and munched some more of the bread.
    ‘I know what you mean; I’ve been worried about him. There have been times when he looked at the end of his tether. Not a patient nature, I would imagine.’
    ‘No.’ Mara smiled as she thought of Enda’s adolescence. He had been one of the most troublesome, but at the same time one of the most rewarding, pupils that she had ever had.
    ‘I’d like to help him, but don’t want to interfere,’ she said after a minute.
    ‘Put out of your head any notion of trying to talk to Brehon MacClancy,’ he advised. His voice sounded alarmed. ‘There is only one thing that you can do to help matters.’ He eyed her carefully before continuing, ‘You can use your influence with the King to get the man removed from office. He is unfit; some of his judgements have been harsh; in a few cases people have appealed the verdict over his head and King Turlough, God bless him, has softened the fine.’
    ‘How did that go?’ Mara was a little appalled. Turlough had never mentioned these occasions to her. ‘How did Brehon MacClancy take the overturning of his verdicts?’
    ‘He pretended to accept it, but he had a face on him that looked as though he could commit murder. Brehon MacClancy is no man to cross.’
    Mara thought about this but decided that she did not wish to discuss the matter any further with Donogh. She was surprised and slightly hurt that Turlough had not mentioned the disputed verdicts with her, but, knowing him, it was, she supposed, possible that it all gone right out of his head and would be classified, if he retained any memory of it, as a spot of bother that had been dealt with and should now be forgotten. She wondered, in a slightly suspicious way, why the physician wanted her to tackle the question of Brehon MacClancy. Did he feel at all threatened by the Brehon?
    ‘What an odd little girl that child is, the twin belonging to Maccon MacMahon,’ she said impulsively. ‘Why does she think that she has to dress as a boy and pretend to be a boy?’
    ‘You didn’t do the same when you were her age?’
    ‘Why no, I didn’t,’ said Mara, surprised at the question. ‘No, I think I was quite happy to be a girl. I felt unique, perhaps, but I felt that being a girl and being a foremost scholar at the law school made me quite interesting. I suppose that I was an impossible child at Cael’s age – always wanting to be better at the law than my father’s other scholars; but I didn’t want to pretend to be a boy.’
    ‘Perhaps, though,’ said the physician gently, ‘you had a father who cared and loved you and was proud of you. I wonder could the same be said for Maccon MacMahon.’ He got to his feet with the haste of one who feels that he has said too much.
    ‘Let me leave you to yourself now, Brehon.’ He cast a look down through the hatch at the riotous crowd below. ‘At least nothing is spoiling the enjoyment of my lord the King on this special anniversary for him. Let’s hope that the night passes peacefully and that you solve the problem of your young friend before your visit has finished,’ he said as he went out of the door.
    Mara sat for a while, sipping her wine and nibbling her roll. Tomorrow, she thought, I will speak with Turlough and then perhaps I will tackle Brehon MacClancy myself. That man should not be allowed to spoil the life of a young man setting out on his career. Had he, she wondered, some sort of hold over Enda, some piece of youthful indiscretion which might make the young man reluctant to assert his rights – something that had been said, or done which would deeply offend King Turlough?
    Brehon MacClancy’s words came back into her mind: ‘
I know that there is one person here tonight who is secretly cheating him and when Judgement Day comes in seven days’ time then the name of that person