"Badger's Moon" by Peter Tremayne

BADGER’S MOON from Peter Tremayne, one of the fifteen mysteries of Sister Fidelma of Cashel, a series set in the ancient land of 7th century Ireland, tells the story of what happened one October during the course of the full moon, the BADGER’S MOON - so named for the ancient Irish belief badgers would dry grass to build nests underneath its light.

Ballgel, a girl of seventeen is killed. An attendant to the cook for chieftain of the Cinél na Áeda, Becc, she is found dead in the woods near Rath Raithlen. Her body horrifically mutilated in the same manner as the girls to precede her, hers is the third death to occur since the arrival of the three strangers housed in the abbey of the Blessed Finnbarr.

The villagers, in fear of what they do not understand, believe the three tall, dark-skinned, white-robed strangers are responsible for the girls’ deaths. Thus they lead a revolt upon the abbey, intent on breaking Abbot Brógan’s hospitality and rendering justice upon those they believe murdered their children. Chieftain Becc barely manages to quell their rage, knowing his authority alone will not maintain order. He must petition the king for a Brehon, a judge, who can uncover the truth.

At King Colgú’s court at Cashel is Sister Fidelma, the king’s sister, a religieuse; and although she is not a Brehon, she is a dálaigh (an advocate of the law courts) who has engendered a reputation of tremendous respect and honor for her prior exploits in uncovering truth. People are acquainted with her name wherever she travels.

Fidelma is also a new mother to Alchú, whom Eadulf, her companion and father of the child, would prefer to see her remain at Cashel in that role. Fidelma, though, a woman who thrives on the challenge, is confident their nursemaid Sárait can tend to the needs of Alchú for the few days they will be gone, while she and Eadulf return with Becc to uncover what evil has invaded the tranquility of the Cinél na Áeda.

BADGER’S MOON is not only a mystery of brutal killings having taken place with the rise of the full moon. If that is all Peter Tremayne had infused into his story, there would be little else for me to tell. It would be a good mystery, and such would be the end of it. BADGER’S MOON is a history lesson of 7th century Ireland, its people and their laws, a rich heritage of stories springing from the formerly pagan beliefs, supplanted by the New Faith of Christianity recently embraced.

Tremayne, an authority upon that period of time in Europe, utilizes this prominent knowledge of his in establishing a setting the reader can believe. Despite the unfamiliarity of the ancient Irish words and names he employs to create the atmosphere inherent within the setting, he does so through characters who spring to life with their own identities and explains much through the ignorance of Eadulf, a Saxon who is learning the Irish ways himself. It provides the 21st century reader with a conduit through whom 7th century Ireland can be grasped.

One aspect of this environment is New Faith and the old pagan beliefs. While the New Faith was obviously embraced as the new beliefs, the old ways were still lingering, difficult to abandon entirely due to the rich heritage they carried. It is an aspect to the Irish landscape which does play a part in this mystery.

Fidelma serves as mediator between the two: ostensibly, the law of man and the law of God. She is well acquainted with the old pagan stories, and she knows the Scriptures of the New Faith. Both serve her well in the investigation she undertakes immediately upon arriving at Rath Raithlen, as does her thorough knowledge of Irish law in helping her prosecute the crimes.
Her knowledge is vast; her wit is sharp; her manner is bold. Some might label her impetuous, charging forward with an almost reckless abandon to do whatever is necessary for the truth to become known; but in reality, such a trait is what all great characters of literature’s history manifest. It is also what makes her introspection on her relationship with her one-month-old child an intriguing bit of dramatic pause. All grand characters of literature’s tales have a weakness that keeps them mortal. Her child happens to be hers. Is she a bad mother because her thoughts are occupied with the thrill of the chase, rather than the solemnity of tending to her child? That unknown she ponders, keeps her human.

Though not a “sleuth” per se (‘dálaigh’ is appropriate), membership amidst the association of literature’s elite problem solvers (the ‘detectives’ of books known for their innate ability to deduce the truth evil seeks to keep hidden) is definitely a place where she belongs. The woman boldly confronted the challenge of this evil, tracked down all bits of knowledge revolving around the slaughter of the three girls, and uncovered more truth than anyone ever expected. While the final summation lacked punch, the process of arriving there with Fidelma was worth the ride.