Scales of Retribution by Cora Harrison

that.’ Nuala’s voice was dry and her manner professional. Mara turned a composed, interested face towards her, but her heart ached to listen to the child calmly and dispassionately account for her father’s death, and explain about poisons to her audience.
    ‘I thought of digitalis, made from the seeds of foxgloves. This would cause death by excessively speeding the heart beats until the heart collapses, but there were signs of acute vomiting, burns around the mouth and the dead man had sweated badly – his clothes were quite damp with sweat, so I came to the conclusion that the most likely poison was aconite, wolfsbane it is known as.’
    ‘And is that a poison that you grow in your herb garden?’ Boetius asked the question in a mild tone of voice, but his green eyes were keen and he raised his sandy eyebrows with an air of mock innocence. ‘Something perhaps that you have handled, made medicines from, is that right?’
    Nuala faced him. ‘My father’s herb garden has a section for poisonous plants. But most of them, including digitalis, can be beneficial if given in tiny quantities. Aconite, wolfsbane, was only introduced recently from the garden in Galway belonging to Caireen’s first husband. It was not something that I would have chosen to grow as its only medicinal use is when it is used with goose grease to rub into rheumatic joints – and even then there are better herbs. Aconite is a deadly poison and to my mind the dangers outweigh the benefits. I have never made any medicines from it and I never shall.’
    Well done, Nuala, thought Mara with a feeling of pride.
    ‘But you knew where it grew,’ stated Boetius.
    ‘It could not be missed,’ said Nuala briefly. ‘It has tall, blue, hooded flowers at this time of the year.’
    ‘So anyone could have picked them?’ asked Fachtnan, gravely.
    ‘The poison is made from the root, not from the flowers – in any case, I think that it is unlikely that someone took some from the herb garden,’ said Nuala. ‘It would not be necessary. My father had a large jar of aconite poison which he sold to farmers and shepherds to get rid of wolves. This is why he had it.’
    ‘And you knew where it was kept?’ asked Boetius.
    Nuala nodded in a perfunctory manner and turned to Moylan who was waving his hand in the air.
    ‘Could you test the brandy to see whether it held aconite, Nuala?’ he asked.
    ‘No,’ Nuala’s voice was expressionless. ‘Caireen poured out the brandy and rinsed the glass with water from the jug. She said she wanted to give him a drink. Apparently,’ the girl’s voice was dry, ‘Caireen did not realize that he was dead.’
    There was a silence for a moment. All the boys looked sympathetic. This was desperately hard for Nuala, Mara knew, but she also knew that nothing would be as hard as brooding silently and not knowing what was going on.
    ‘Do you know whether any other accidental deaths occurred from farmers putting aconite around their farms? Or from the misuse of medicines?’ asked Fachtnan.
    Mara looked at him with interest. He had a fine, intuitive intelligence. He had gone straight to the heart of the matter. Of course, there had been several deaths in the kingdom during the last couple of months and rumour had it that relatives had blamed Malachy’s poor doctoring for these.
    However, this was not a matter to discuss in front of Malachy’s daughter.
    ‘As far as I know, not from the use of aconite,’ said Nuala briefly. ‘That is, not humans, I mean.’
    Mara rose to her feet.
    ‘I fear I must leave you now, boys. I am not fully recovered as yet but I hope to be back at work with you quite soon. Fachtnan, could I ask you to continue with this investigation? Aidan, will you make notes and bring them over to me after dinner?’ She turned to the young Boetius with a smile which she strove to make friendly.
    ‘Perhaps I could ask you to go across to Caherconnell and to make an inventory of all the medicines on Malachy’s