Page 10 of Bound By Honor
Áine’s father chuckled. “Balliol is in a bad position with his lands located inconveniently between the Bruces’ lands of Annandale and Carrick.”
Earl Richard looked down at his wine, his expression thoughtful. “Indeed.”
“As far as the Bruces go,” said Niall, “I am told the Guardians of Scotland are standing firm against their challenge of Balliol.”
“That news has come to me, too,” said Earl Richard. “The Bruces’ little war may end with them handing back the castles they’ve taken. It is too early for them to lay claim to the crown since the Maid of Norway is still heir.”
“What age is little Margaret now?” inquired Áine. Everyone who cared about affairs in Scotland knew of her, the daughter of Norway’s king and granddaughter of the dead king Alexander. “Is she not just a child?
All eyes turned to her as if surprised she had spoken.
“She is but six, Lady Áine,” said Earl Richard with a kindly look, “too young to rule. Which is why Scotland has Guardians at the moment. When they can manage to agree, they act as regents, governing the Kingdom of Scotland, until the young queen comes to her majority.”
The O’Neill inclined his head toward Áine. “Young Margaret has held the throne since she was three when the queen of the deceased King Alexander failed to deliver a living child.”
A servant approached Áine and said, “Dinner is ready, my lady.”
She nodded to the servant and turned to her father. “If our guests are ready to dine, Father, the meal is ready to be served.”
“Well then,” said her father, turning to his guests, “shall we adjourn to the table?”
“Your men,” she said to Earl Richard and The O’Neill as they began to follow her father, “will be escorted to the kitchens where they will be fed.”
They thanked her and, together, crossed the hall to the dais where the head table had been graced with a white cloth and set with silver.
Áine’s father took the center chair with the de Burghs on his right and The O’Neill on his left. Niall beckoned her to take the chair next to him on the end.
Though the food was sumptuous, she ate sparingly as her attention was focused on the dishes being served, their guests’ exclamations of delight and the servants efficiently attending to everyone’s needs.
For most of the meal, The O’Neill spoke to her father, sometimes in hushed tones, but when the minstrels paused in their music to allow their bard to come forward, The O’Neill leaned toward her and said, “You have become a great beauty, Áine, as I thought you would.”
Embarrassed at his flattery, Áine dropped her gaze to the trencher she shared with him. He had placed many slices of roast game and venison on her side. Most she had left untasted. The heat of his presence was tangible, for he was not a small man. Intimidating, not only for his size, but because he was the King of Tirowen and his very title commanded respect.
“You are too kind, my lord.”
He lifted his goblet to his lips and took a drink before answering. “Not so kind as discerning, I think. Surely you cannot help but notice the way men look at you.”
“Most of the men I know are my father’s soldiers or his friends. They are always respectful.”
“You are young, Áine, but you are a woman full grown if I judge correctly. You should know that a man will take note of a beautiful woman no matter his station.”
Áine was becoming uncomfortable with their conversation and was glad when the bard took his seat before the dais and began to recite a poem to the playing of a harp.
Once dinner and the entertainment ended and the men stood again before the large fireplace with their wine in hand, talking, Áine invited Margaret de Burgh to step outside the castle. “’Tis magnificent at this time of night but we will want our cloaks.” The countess consented and with the permission of her father and Earl Richard, Áine led her outside.
The sun hung low over the horizon and its descent had painted the sky a vivid salmon color.
“I see what you mean,” said the countess, looking to the horizon. “We have beautiful sunsets at Dunluce but this one is exceptional coming as it does on a rare clear eve.”
“I like to walk the cliff path at this time of day,” said Áine, “and in the early morning.” As they talked, they began to walk the familiar path. Finn had followed them outside and now walked beside Áine.
The countess inclined her head toward her. “Can you see yourself leaving your father’s home one day?”
With a sigh, Áine replied, “I suppose I must at some point but I would miss all this and my father.”
“I anticipated the same when I married Richard yet now I have more splendid views than in England and a life where I can contribute more. You will, too.”
Áine drank in the sky and the sea, overwhelmed by God’s creation, and wondered how she could ever have a more beautiful place to live than this.
