Page 62 of Bound By Honor
Heads, cast in shadow by the firelight, nodded in agreement.
“Where might we find Brian O’Neill?” asked Angus. Tirowen was as large a kingdom as Tirconnell. Brian could be anywhere.
“When last we had word,” said the messenger, “he was at Creeve, just west of the River Bann near Coleraine.”
Angus pondered the location. Though he did not know it well, he thought it part of the territory the O’Cahans guarded for The O’Neill. Shifting his gaze to Ryan O’Docherty, one of the young chiefs who had been invited to the meeting, he asked, “Do you guard that land for Brian O’Neill?”
“That and more,” said O’Docherty, raising his chin.
“Then it is there we must go. How close can I get to Creeve with my ships?” They could have walked east to Tirowen as it bordered Tirconnell, but Angus did not want to leave his ships vulnerable to the O’Donnells.
The young O’Docherty chief said, “The River Bann is wide and flows into the sea in the Red Earl’s territory ten miles west of Dunluce. You can sail its waters south all the way to Creeve.”
Angus shot a look at Turlough. “Under the circumstances, I would ask to take the O’Cahan chiefs with me and as many of their men as you can spare since we are the reason they are not in Tirowen to defend their king.”
“You have given me a hundred men, Uncle. If you take the chiefs, I can make do with the rest.”
“I will not leave you undermanned,” said Angus. “For every O’Cahan man-at-arms I take from the hundred I gave you, I will leave you one of my Islesmen.” Then with a smile, he added, “Treat them well. I will leave a ship for them, hidden near where we beached the ships at Rathmullan, until they are ready to sail. Tell them to sail for Dunseverick. If I am no longer there, I will leave word with Lord Cumee.”
Turlough offered his hand and Angus grasped it. “Agreed.”
At dawn the next morning, Angus, his companions and his men, save those he left with Turlough, retraced their steps east and sailed from Rathmullan in Tirconnell around the Inishowen Peninsula to the mouth of the River Bann.
Dunseverick Castle, northern coast of Ulster, late December 1294
ÁINE WAS STANDING in the great hall with her father and brother when Conor O’Docherty, one of the O’Cahan chiefs, came striding into the hall, his steel gray hair tousled and his face a mask of worry. His tunic and hosen were splashed with mud, doubtless from racing his horse across the boggy countryside. “Lord Cumee, have you heard of the battle that rages west of the Bann at Creeve?”
Her father narrowed his dark eyes. “What battle?”
“All I know was told to me by a villager fleeing the carnage. Domnall O’Neill attacked Brian, king of Tirowen. In the fighting that ensued, King Brian was slain along with many others. I must know what has happened to my son! He went with Angus Og Macdonald. Might they now be in Tirowen?”
Áine covered her mouth with her hand to hold back her gasp. It seemed every time a messenger or one of her father’s spies returned it was with news of war, battle and death. She often thought of Angus Og Macdonald and the young O’Cahan chiefs who rode with him, knowing they had gone into danger. Daily, she offered up prayers for their safety. “Were they not in Tirconnell?”
Her father shook his head. “I cannot say where Lord Angus is now.” His face twisted into a frown. “This is the result of that rebel John fitz Thomas Fitzgerald capturing Earl Richard! In the absence of the cat, the mice are demanding their day.” Lowering his dark brows, he added, “I will soon know what Domnall has wrought.”
Áine had seen that look in her father’s eyes before. His fury rising, he would hold accountable all those who disturbed King Edward’s peace.
Turning to his seneschal, her father asked him to summon the constable, his personal guard and his physician. When they appeared, he ordered his constable, “Assemble the men, every warrior who is not needed to guard the castle. We ride for Creeve within the hour.” Then to his physician, “I do not know what we will find. We can hope some are only wounded but it might be wise to take a priest with us.”
As the men hurried from the hall to fulfill his requests, she spoke her thought aloud. “Father, you will not arrive until twilight. Let me pack some food for you to take.”
“Be quick, Áine. We dare not dally.”
She stepped away to make her requests known to the servants. When she turned back to her father, he was speaking with her brother.
“No, Dermot, you cannot go. You must stay to command the castle should the fighting spread north to Dunseverick. Dunluce is still free, I think, so we should be safe but I will not leave our home or your sister and my grandson unprotected.”
By his lowered eyes, Áine could see Dermot was disappointed not to be going but he would accept their father’s will. Raising his chin, he said, “I will guard them with my life.”
“Good.” Her father strode to the stairs calling for his armor-bearer to bring his mail and weapons.
Áine turned to her brother. “He did not say that for my sake, Dermot, but knowing how you value your honor, he knew you would not fail to rise to the challenge. He knows well, as do I, that you are needed for more important things than my protection or even my son’s. In our father’s stead, you are now lord of the castle. YouareThe O’Cahan should he not return. The men will follow your orders without question.”
He tossed her a grateful smile. “I shall comfort myself with that knowledge though I would rather join the fight.”
She went to the kitchens to see that the food was ready. A short while later, her father descended the stairs in full armor, his sword and dagger at his side, his dark, silver-streaked hair combed back from his face and his helmet in hand.
Áine followed him outside and handed him and his guard the parcels that the servants had given her, enough food to sustain them for a few days. More of the small packages were handed out by the servants to the men who would ride with her father.
