Page 18 of Bound By Honor
Angus was heartened that his father affirmed his bargain sealed at Turnberry years ago. For his own part, Angus had not forgotten his pledge of honor to his friend, the youngest Robert Bruce.
“Though we are bound to support the Bruces,” said the earl, “Robert the Noble is in his seventh decade and less malleable than Balliol, who is much younger. If I know Edward, he will want someone he can control. And one cannot dismiss the fact Balliol will have the support of the MacDougalls and the powerful Comyns.”
“Two of the Comyns now serve as Guardians of the Realm,” said Angus’ father, “but that hardly commends Balliol to me. What of the Bruce’s son, the Earl of Carrick?”
“At the last news, he and the youngest Bruce were in England at Edward’s court where young Robert is expected to be made a knight.”
Angus lifted his goblet ever so slightly in toast to his friend, for to be a knight had been Rob’s goal when last they’d met.
“And there is this,” said de Burgh, “what Edward hoped to gain through the marriage of his young son to the Maid, he may now think to gain in another manner.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing specific, but we both know Edward is wily. He has already had me claim the Isle of Man for himself. His eye has been on Scotland for some time. He needs men to fight his wars in France and money to refill his coffers.”
Angus cringed at the loss of the Isle of Man as it had once been a possession of the Macdonalds. Though losing Man to the English might be inevitable, to think the King of England had his eyes on Scotland was more worrisome.
“Do you believe Edward will use the potential for civil war to intervene?” asked Angus’ father.
The earl contemplated the wine in his goblet. “Quite possibly. But he may not have to venture that far if the Guardians of Scotland come to him, as they might to avoid such a war.”
Once dinner ended, they gathered before the fire and spoke of other matters. Angus had only a few moments to talk to Dermot O’Cahan but, in that time, he learned more about the friendship between the O’Cahans, the O’Neills and the Earl of Ulster.
“My sister is married to Niall O’Neill, the rightful King of Tirowen the earl spoke of,” said Dermot, “which is why we are grateful he has promised to restore Niall to his kingship.”
“We just came from Tirconnell where we helped to restore my nephew, Turlough, to his kingship. It seems the way of things in Ireland, does it not?”
“Alas, it does.” Then with mirth in his brown eyes, Dermot said, “But our families are both allied with the Norman lords supported by King Edward, and there is some safety in that.” Dermot had told Angus he was the only son of Lord Cumee O’Cahan and thus the heir. “I have yet to speak with my father but I assume he is eager for me to learn the skills I will need to one day assume his role.”
“I hope he lives a long life,” said Angus. “I, at least, have an older brother who will succeed our father when the time comes.”
Dermot returned Angus a shy smile. “Being the only son carries a responsibility unshared with others.”
Angus was quick to agree and they parted as friends. The next morning, he was informed by his father that they would be sailing together only to Dunaverty. His father intended to go on to gather galloglass for de Burgh’s assault on Tirowen. Meantime, Angus was to sail from Dunaverty to Turnberry Castle in Carrick, where his brother, Alexander would be witnessing a charter.
“You have proven you can fight and captain a ship, now you must see to a statesman’s business. This one is with men of the cloth. It is time you join your brother in such tasks. Watch him carefully for he is ever gracious to the clergy.”
Angus supposed he had just been paid a compliment. The Lord of the Isles did not give them often.
CHAPTER 4
Derry, Inishowen Peninsula, Ulster, Ireland, October 1290
ÁINE DIDN’T MIND the move to Inishowen. The peninsula’s rugged coast, jutting into the Atlantic Ocean, with its stony green hills and blue waters beyond, reminded her of home. For all its beauty, Inishowen was a smaller place than Tirowen, less than half its size.
Though he spoke little of it, Áine knew Niall resented deeply the change in his status. He was a proud man who had known defeat before; but the unceremonious ousting from his kingship by Domnall O’Neill had come as a surprise. Niall faulted himself for trusting too much in the power of the Norman Earl of Ulster to protect him.
Left no other choice and facing a larger army, when it was clear he could not win the day, he had fled to Inishowen with Áine, their servants and those of his men who survived.
In Derry, they lived comfortably if not lavishly. The town had been built on a small hill named after an oak grove that had once stood on an island in the River Foyle. It was a place of commerce for surrounding farms and ships coming from places far away to trade. Derry boasted a large stone cathedral, built by Columba’s successor. For Áine, it became a quiet retreat.
Their timber-framed house, whitewashed and topped with a thatched roof, was large enough to accommodate Niall and her as well as Nessa and the visitors who came often. Their cook, servants and Niall’s loyal men-at-arms lived in cottages nearby.
Niall was well-liked by the people whose farms were small but whose hearts were large. They were simple folk, not unlike the O’Cahan families in the lands surrounding Dunseverick. She often experienced a longing for her father and the castle that had been her home, even her birds, yet she had found purpose in her new life.
The women of Inishowen had opened their arms to her. While she did not have a lifetime of wisdom to impart, she bore them smiles of encouragement and good wishes for the health of their families, and she did what she could for them.
She could be happy here but Niall never could, having been king of a greater realm.
