Page 103 of Bound By Honor
“Edward conquered Wales in winter, why not Scotland?”
“Will you go?” Angus asked the earl.
“The king has yet to meet my demands and there is work for me here in Ireland as I am the deputy for John Wogan while the justiciar is in Scotland securing the supplies for the king’s army. Oh, and there was another bit of information that came from the meeting at Peebles.”
Áine studied her husband’s face. Angus raised his brows but remained silent.
“Apparently, a letter came from beyond the Firth of Forth, recounting how Sir Alexander Comyn and Lachlan MacRuairi were devastating the districts they were in, attacking the people of Scotland.”
Angus said, “I need no spy to tell me that. I have witnessed it myself.”
“The Council was none too pleased and Comyn was dispatched to rein in his relations.”
At that point, Áine’s father must have heard enough about the war. He rose from his chair. “Lift your goblets to Lady Áine and Lord Angus who have just been wed on Iona. They begin their life together, uniting the O’Cahans and the Macdonalds—Ulster and the Isles!”
Benches and chairs slid over the stone floor as all rose from their seats, goblets raised. “To Lady Áine and Lord Angus!”
Earl Richard shouted, “To health and long life!” The toast was echoed around the hall.
“May God bless them with many children!” cried one of the chiefs. The toast was followed with shouts of “Many children!” and that was followed by a few pithy comments shared about the hall.
Áine shifted her gaze to where Brian sat with the de Burgh children. He looked puzzled as if he had never considered the marriage would bring him siblings, competitors for her love. She would have to assure him that, as the older brother, he would have great responsibility and power that must be wielded carefully and with grace.
“May you know only happiness!” said one chief, lifting his goblet high.
More rounds of toasting followed as they were showered with blessings. Áine’s soul overflowed with joy to hear them.
Angus put his arm around her, drawing her close. They had not returned to their seats since the first toast. “My beautiful bride and I thank you!”
MUSIC AND DANCING followed the toasts. Angus led his bride in a circular dance in the Irish tradition. She laughed, happiness on her face, as her hair flung out behind her. After a few dances, he gave her into the hands of waiting admirers while he went in pursuit of information and allies.
“I don’t suppose you know of the whereabouts of Alexander MacDougall?” he asked the Lord of the Glens of Antrim.
The elder statesman’s bushy dark brows rose above his narrow eyes and his hand pulled on his short graying beard. “No, but then I’ve not asked. I imagine you seek revenge.”
“Vengeance, aye, but also justice, Sir Hugh. I would welcome your assistance in hunting the man down.”
“I will gladly help. And John MacSween of Knapdale, who is among your guests tonight, may be interested in joining the hunt. He has no love for the MacDougalls and has been serving Edward in the hope the king will grant his request to regain Castle Sween. I believe King Edward will look favorably upon his request.”
“Thank you,” said Angus. “I will speak to MacSween. If I could, I would leave tomorrow to hunt The MacDougall but I have another task that must be seen to first.”
Sir Hugh looked disbelieving. “What could be more important than avenging your brother’s murder?”
“’Tis a matter of some urgency. I must settle over a thousand Irishmen in the Isles. My bride’s dowry.”
“Ah, yes, I had heard something of that. I thought it might be just a tale told over too much ale.”
“Nay, ’tis truth.”
The next morning, after his ride with young Brian and his new horse, Angus kissed his bride and wished her a good day as he rode east from Dunseverick with Lord Cumee and their combined, well-armed guard. Passing Coleraine, they arrived at Limavady on the River Roe at noon. Lord Cumee had told Angus the men of the dowry, who called themselves “Áine’s Army”, would be waiting there to be introduced to their new lord.
From where he sat atop his horse, Angus’ gaze stretched far ahead, seeing rows and rows of men. Their clothing and weapons told him some were galloglass. Others were young chiefs—some he recognized. And still others were craftsmen, cattlemen, farmers and fishermen.
Lord Cumee said, “As you requested, they are all volunteers.” Chuckling, he added, “The task of recruiting young men to follow Angus Og Macdonald, the new Lord of the Isles, was easier than I had thought. It seems you have garnered much respect in your time in Ireland. Then, too, you should know half of them are in love with my daughter.”
“Aye, ’tis the same wherever we go. How many are there?”
“One hundred and forty from each of the ten surnames of my people, including twenty-four young chiefs, willing to marry the daughters of your chiefs. Come, I will introduce them.” They dismounted and walked forward. Lord Cumee waved the men forward, calling out each surname as they passed in review, bowing before Angus and Lord Cumee at they did.
