Page 7 of Bound By Honor
Their chess game continued and was followed by two more as they shared more family stories. When the games ended, Angus had won two of the three and he and Rob had become fast friends.
CHAPTER 2
Dunseverick Castle, northern coast of Ulster, Ireland, May 1289
ÁINE DREW HER fur-lined cloak around her against the sharp wind as she took the path along the edge of the promontory on the cliff high above the sea where Dunseverick Castle stood, the seat of the O’Cahans.
A gust of wind whipped her dark hair across her face. She drew it back to glimpse the blooming yellow gorse interspersed among the thick green grass. The sun on the wildflowers was a welcome sight after days of rain. Smiling to herself, she inhaled the sweet smell of the blossoms.
Hundreds of feet below, skirting the cliffs, the blue sea sparkled like a sapphire jewel.
She gazed north, across the Sea of Moyle, to Rathlin Island ten miles offshore where a colony of puffins lived.
Most often, Áine and her wolfhound, Finn, she had named after the King of the Fairies, walked the clifftop early in the morning so she could be alone with her birds before her father’s men-at-arms took to the practice yard. Many of her feathered friends made their homes on the cliffs and in the surrounding waters, particularly in the spring, and she looked forward to their return each year.
Gray and white herring gulls and the smaller but stocky fulmars abounded on the cliffs. From their nests, the fulmar pairs cackled to one another. Together with black cormorants, they swooped in front of the sheer cliff face, putting on a great show. Puffins, too, had come to nest here. Their whimsical appearance could keep her entertained for hours. Soon the noisy kittiwakes would be arriving for the summer.
The gulls greeted her with raucous cries as she neared their nests. Finn regarded them with only mild interest as he walked at her side. She recognized the gull with the unusual black mark on his gray wing as he flew above her and dropped a small starfish at her feet.
An offering from a friend.
Finn sniffed at it and then looked up at her, his copper-colored eyes suggesting he perceived no trait worth noting. She stroked his wiry gray head and reached down to pick up the starfish, holding it in the palm of her hand. “’Tis a marvelous creature, Finn, one worthy of your respect.” The starfish was cold and damp to the touch. She would return it to the cove at the foot of the cliffs where her favorite gull doubtless had found it.
She fancied all the birds knew her. Sometimes, she sang to them and, though the wind swept away her words, she often spoke to them. She had no other friends. Her only sibling, her younger brother, Dermot, was now fostering with the de Burghs at Dunluce Castle down the coast.
A sigh escaped her lips. In a month, she would be sixteen, an auspicious age when her father would be seeking a marriage for her. The idea caused her to feel both excitement and fear.
Knowing the day would come, she had oft wondered who her future husband might be. When the eyes of one of her father’s soldiers had followed her, she wondered if one of them might be hers. But no, her father would never give her to a man without lands or title. He would want an alliance of importance for the O’Cahans. Mayhap a younger son of one of the nearby lords. She prayed whoever he was he would be someone she could love.
“My lady!” shouted her handmaiden running toward her. “Your lord father is asking for you.”
“No need to be overexcited, Nessa. I am here.” Then, holding out the starfish, she said, “If I am to go to the castle, it must be you who returns this little one to the waters of the cove.”
Nessa tucked a stray curl of her brown hair beneath her kerchief, as if to avoid taking the starfish, and turned up her freckled nose. “Me?”
“Here,” Áine said, reaching out her hand, “take it and do not delay or it will not live.”
Her handmaiden curtseyed. “As you wish, Mistress.” Reluctantly, Nessa took the starfish onto her palm and held it out before her as if it were a serving tray as she took the path down to the cove.
Amused, Áine beckoned to Finn and they hurried on, past the guards who greeted her with a nod, and entered the castle.
The light in the hall was dim after the full sun outside. Pausing to allow her eyes to adjust, she glimpsed her father standing in front of the fire, staring into the flames. His arms were crossed in front of him, the stance he always took when pondering something. His hair, dark brown like hers, curled to his shoulders over his red-brown surcoat of fine wool.
Laying her hand on Finn’s head, she commanded him to “Wait”. Walking forward, she said, “Father, you wished to see me?”
He turned and gave her a small smile. In his fourth decade, Cumee O’Cahan was a handsome man with strong features. He was also a man who commanded the respect of other men. The O’Neill, King of Tirowen, entrusted him with the defense of the northern, western and eastern approaches to the O’Neill territory.
“I did. We are to have guests this eve, the Earl of Ulster, his wife, Lady Margaret de Burgh, and The O’Neill. I want you to wear your finest gown and act my hostess.”
“Of course, Father. I will see all is made ready for your guests.” He had an odd look on his face, almost nostalgic and mayhap tinged with regret. Was he thinking of the past? The loss of his much-loved wife? Áine knew that sometimes when he looked at her, he was seeing her mother whom he oft told her she resembled in appearance. Áine had only known her as a small child but remembered her scent of flowers. She died in childbed trying to birth a second son. Mayhap it was her memory that had clouded his thoughts. Certainly, it was not his request for Áine to act as hostess, which was most reasonable. Now that she was considered a woman and her mother no longer living, it would be proper for her to act the hostess for her father’s guests and she often did. “Will they stay the night?”
“I do not know. We must be prepared should they decide to do so but, with fair weather and their lands so close, they might return home after the evening’s entertainment.”
Her father was not only Chief of the Name of O’Cahan but Lord of Ciannacht and senior subking to Niall O’Neill, King of Tirowen, whose large territory lay to the south. Their overlord, Richard de Burgh, Earl of Ulster, had several castles, Dunluce on the coast, where her brother was fostering, being the closest to Dunseverick.
By the time she returned to her chamber, Nessa was there, her kerchief having been discarded to let her brown curls fall free.
“Nessa, we are to have noble guests in the hall this eve. I must meet with the cook to see about the menu and to speak to the seneschal. While I am gone, please have a bath drawn for me. I think the crimson silk gown and my mother’s pearls would be appropriate for tonight. I must honor my father with my appearance in serving as his hostess.”
