Page 68 of Bound By Honor
“Very well, I will see what I can do. But say nothing of this. ’Twill be our secret until I can make it happen, all right?”
The boy nodded and Angus held out his hand. “Men shake their hands to seal a bargain, an oath of honor between them. Will you shake mine?”
Clutching his new toy to his chest with one hand, Brian held out his other hand and Angus slowly shook it, not a warrior’s grasp but at least the boy understood the solemn occasion of a man’s oath of honor.
Brian ran back to the castle and Angus rose, turning his gaze to the sea. It was deep blue today and, floating in the canvas of blue above the sea were a few white clouds. He could just make out the shadow of Kintyre in the distance. He had not seen the sun in a long while and he was grateful for its dry warmth. Such weather might not last long and he was anxious for news. The last they had heard was that the fighting in Connaught had subsided in anticipation of the parliament at Kilkenny, which took place three days ago. Since then, they’d heard nothing.
He had been away nearly a year and could not stay much longer. He must return home to help his brother with the troubles in Scotland. In the meantime, a ride to Dunluce with Rob, Duncan and John might serve to inform them of the outcome of the Kilkenny parliament. Besides, he remembered that Dunluce had several wolfhounds.
Dunluce Castle, north coast of Ulster, March 1295
ANGUS WAS SURPRISED to see a large group of Earl Richard’s men in the outer bailey as he and his companions and guard rode in. “Something must have happened for the earl’s men to be here in such numbers.”
The guard at the gate was smiling when he admitted them.
“Do you know why these of the earl’s army are here?”
“Yes, my lord. The fighting has ceased in anticipation of the earl’s release. The men you see here rode ahead with news that King Edward has made his desire known that the Earl of Ulster and his cousin are to be freed.”
“That is very good news,” said Angus, dismounting and handing the reins to a groom. “Who led the men here?”
“Sir Thomas de Mandeville, Seneschal of Ulster,” the guard replied. “He comes to prepare for the earl’s arrival. You will find him in the great hall.”
Angus thanked him and, together with his companions, headed toward the massive gray stone castle. They took the narrow bridge across the chasm between the outer bailey and the stone edifice that loomed before them on the huge rock high above the sea.
Inside the great hall, they found Sir Thomas speaking with the earl’s steward. The Seneschal of Ulster’s fair countenance had taken on a weathered look. His wheat-colored hair was longer than when Angus had last seen him. As might be expected following weeks of fighting in the rain and living on spare rations, he was thinner and his pale skin, once reddened from the sun, lacked its former robust look.
At Angus’ approach, the steward bowed to the seneschal and took his leave. Sir Thomas turned. “Greetings, Lord Angus, Earl Robert. I welcome you and your companions. Your arrival is auspicious, as we expect news of Earl Richard’s release and that of his cousin, William Liath.”
“By King Edward’s command, or so we are told,” put in Rob.
“Yes, my Lord Carrick. The king has made clear he will not tolerate John fitz Thomas’ overstepping. And, for his rash actions and brutality in Kildare, the rebel will surely lose all of Connaught before this is done. Or, so one would hope.”
“As he should,” said Duncan. “Fitz Thomas has caused much of Ireland to rise against the king’s agents and is responsible for many deaths.”
Sir Thomas shook his head. “It was all so unnecessary.” Then walking toward the table, he said over his shoulder, “I was just about to dine. Will you join me? Your guard as well. As you can see, there is plenty of room.”
“Aye,” said Angus, “and we thank you.” Dunluce’s great hall, bustling with nobles and men-at-arms the last time he had been there, was nearly empty save for servants and a few guards at the door. The mural that had begun the last time he was here had been completed with noble men and women dressed in bright colors and finery moving about on the large painting.
Walking toward the table, Angus’ attention was drawn to the two wolfhounds sprawled in front of the fireplace. Gnawing on bones, they barely looked up.
The long table where their meeting had occurred the year before was bare save for candles that cast light on the jugs of what he presumed was ale. They took their seats and the servants set pork pastries before them, together with bowls of apples and nuts. The meal was modest by an earl’s standards but sufficient to quell their hunger. These were not times for feasting with famine surging across the land and Angus was grateful that he had food. He’d had less on the road to Tirconnell. Still, Angus expected the fatted calf—if there were a fatted calf still about—would be slain when Earl Richard returned. “Is the earl’s family still at Dunluce?” he asked, seeing no children about.
“Nay,” said Sir Thomas, setting down his cup of ale and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “A contingent of the earl’s men escorted them to Carrickfergus shortly after the earl departed for Connaught. Lady Margaret is likely keeping her servants busy preparing a celebration now that Earl Richard will soon be home.”
As they ate, they spoke of the war in the south, Sir Thomas telling them of all he and the earl’s army had experienced. “We were prevailing until fitz Thomas burned Kildare and slaughtered its people, drawing us away from Connaught. The earl was taken in a brutal battle near Kildare. The rain had left the slopes slick with mud so that the horses had great difficulty in maintaining their footing.” He paused to take a drink. “In addition to the earl’s release, there is other news. Aed O’Connor has survived and is restored to his kingship.”
“Good news, indeed.” Angus then provided the seneschal with his own report. “We fought with Turlough O’Donnell in Tirconnell against his half-brother. The battles were fierce but resolved in our favor before we were called away to Tirowen.” With a sigh of regret, he added, “Alas, we arrived too late to save Brian O’Neill. Domnall slayed him at Creeve.”
“A tragic end to a promising young ruler,” replied Sir Thomas.
“A truly unpleasant man, is Domnall,” said Rob.
“I would agree with that assessment,” said Sir Thomas. “Domnall has engaged in perfidy before and Earl Richard had to call him to account. I should have known if he won, he would kill Brian O’Neill.”
“It seems he has no love for Earl Richard or any Norman, even one with the blood of Scots running through his veins,” said Rob.
“Or Macdonalds for that matter,” added Angus.
