Page 66 of Bound By Honor
By now, her father had shed his weapons and handed them to his armor bearer. Inside the castle, she bid him sit by the fire. While he and Dermot continued their conversation, she asked a servant to bring cups of hot spiced wine.
“Thank you, Áine,” her father said, accepting the drink. To Dermot, he said, “Is all well here?”
“Yes, Father,” replied her brother. “Except for the constant rain and the shortage of food, which is much as it was when you left. But news has come from Dunluce.” Dermot handed their father the message that had arrived earlier that day.
Her father read the missive and nodded. “Some good news at least.” Looking around the hall, he asked, “Áine, where is that hound of yours who is always by the fire?”
With downcast eyes, she said, “Finn is gone, Father. I buried him this day.”
“I am sorry, Daughter, for I know you loved him much.” He reached his open palm to her and she placed her smaller hand in it. A feeling of strength infused her when he closed his strong fingers around her hand and squeezed. There was the smell of sweat and horse about him. She did not mind.
Brian’s nurse brought her son into the great hall just then and he ran to her father’s open arms. “Grandfather!”
When Brian was ensconced on her father’s knee, running his small hand over her father’s beard, Áine asked, “Did Lord Angus sail for Kintyre?”
“Not yet. He is bringing his ships from the River Bann to White Fields Beach. Soon, he will be with us again.” Her father gave her a curious look and Áine forced herself to a bland expression. She did not want to explain why her heart was gladdened at the prospect of Angus Og Macdonald’s return to Dunseverick. She did not fully understand the implications herself.
“He and Sir Robert want to see what transpires with Earl Richard and Connaught before they return home,” said her father. “Their skill at arms may yet be needed.”
“They were not injured in Tirconnell?” she asked.
“When I last saw them, both were hale and hearty along with Lord Angus’ cousin and brother. Our young chiefs survived and will return with them.”
Taking Brian’s hand and leading him to his nurse, she returned to her father. “You will want a bath and I must see to a meal for you and your chiefs.”
“Both would be welcome,” he said rising. “Come with me, Dermot, and I will tell you more of what transpired.”
As the two walked to the stairs, Áine turned to her father’s constable. “Have a guard posted on the promontory to watch for the ships. When they are spotted, have horses brought to White Fields Beach for Lord Angus, his companions and the young chiefs. I will give you some food for his men.”
He bowed. “It shall be as you wish, my lady.” It pleased Áine that her father, used to her taking care of such things, no longer thought to ask, and his men, aware of this, willingly followed her orders.
ANGUS AND HIS SHIPS sailed toward the wide beach north of Dunseverick as the sun was low beneath a dark cloud-covered sky. He could not recall the last time he had seen the sun since setting foot in Ireland.
The voyage east from the mouth of the River Bann had taken them the better part of the day, as they fought to make headway in rough seas on the Atlantic coast. Much rowing had been required and his men were tired and hungry. Angus wanted to sit before a warming fire with Áine O’Cahan, sharing enough wine to allow him to forget the endless rain and Brian O’Neill lying dead at Creeve.
“I never thought I would be so glad to see this beach,” said Duncan, joining Angus and Rob in the prow. John was in the stern talking to the helmsman, who was guiding them in.
“Aye,” agreed Angus. “Mayhap we will have a respite from the constant rain. The men would be happy for it.” As his ship neared the sand, he looked up to see O’Cahan guards waiting with a dozen horses.
“They must have seen us as we sailed past the castle,” he said to Rob. What little he knew of Áine O’Cahan told him she was the one who would have watched and thought to provide them mounts.
Once on the beach, he confirmed the lady of the castle had sent the horses as well as food. “Yes, my lord, they are here at her request,” said the groom.
Angus waited until the ships were beached, the sails doused and his captains assembled around him before he addressed them. “My companions, the O’Cahan chiefs and I will ride ahead to Dunseverick. Follow when you can and set up camp near the castle as you did before. We will likely be here for a while, at least until we know what transpires concerning Richard de Burgh. We may yet be called to another battle, for I do not know the fate of Connaught. Fish and hunt as you can for other food may be scarce. We are still awaiting the return of the last ship from Tirconnell and, if God be merciful, a hundred of our men with it.”
They nodded, obviously glad for a rest.
Once they were mounted, Angus, Rob, Duncan and John rode for Dunseverick Castle with the young O’Cahan chiefs. Angus drew his fur-lined cloak around him against the sharp February wind.
By the time they arrived in the bailey, the sun was a sliver of gold at the horizon beneath dark clouds billowing with the wind.
Lord Cumee met them in the great hall, welcoming him, his companions and the young chiefs back to Dunseverick. Lady Áine stood to the side, smiling up at Angus, her dark eyes alight with an inner fire.
Servants took their cloaks and Lord Cumee said, “We will dine shortly. In the meantime, join me at the fire. There is news from Dunluce.”
“Gladly,” said Rob, moving toward the fireplace where a large fire blazed.
“Aye, said Angus, “the sea was not accommodating and the fire is welcome.”
