Strongbow by Morgan Llywelyn

Author:Morgan Llywelyn [Morgan Llywelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781847174701
Publisher: The O'Brien Press
Published: 2012-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

RICHARD

Facing King Henry II

The last boatload of adventurers to return from Ireland brought interesting news indeed. Dermot Mac Murrough had made a treaty with Rory O’Connor. In return for being allowed freedom of action in Leinster, he had formally accepted O’Connor as High King of Ireland and paid tribute to him.

‘He must have done it with gritted teeth,’ I said to Raymond le Gros.

‘If Dermot has pledged his loyalty to the High King, does that mean he won’t want us any longer?’ asked Raymond.

I smiled grimly. ‘Not at all. He’s simply fighting for time. Why do you think he keeps sending me messages?’

‘He’ll break his pledge to the High King then, when we arrive?’

‘I’m certain of it,’ I told Raymond.

My captain frowned. ‘If he would break a pledge to his High King, what makes you think he’ll keep his promises to you?’

Now that was a question to cause me some worry!

Pacing the battlements of my castle, I thought about Dermot Mac Murrough. What sort of man was he, really? There were so many tales told of him. I sent for my uncle, Hervey de Montmorency, who had recently returned from Ireland.

Over bowls of wine, into which we dipped great hunks of black bread, I asked my uncle for his opinion of the King of Leinster.

‘He’s as slippery as a buttered fish. You met him, Richard. What was your opinion of him?’

‘Much the same,’ I admitted. ‘Yet I found him cheerful in spite of his misfortune, a quality I much admire.’

My uncle told me, ‘He’s devoted to his family, also. I’ve never seen any man dote on his children as does Dermot mac Murrough.’

Ah, then. That was a relief to my mind. If Dermot was so fond of his children, he wouldn’t want to anger his daughter’s husband. He would keep his promises to me, I felt. Once I owned his daughter I would be in a strong position with him.

At the time I met my uncle, I had only two servants to wait on me at table, and one of them was borrowed from the dairy for the occasion. They were poor shabby creatures with hungry eyes, and as I talked to Hervey I tried to keep watching them. Either would steal a bit of our food if they could.

Peasants. I wondered that some people claimed they had souls, like Christians.

My uncle scratched his chest and turned on his bench, hoping for more wine. ‘By the bye, Richard, what’s taking you so long, gathering this army you’ve promised Dermot Mac Murrough?’

I wanted more wine myself. ‘Much of my strength was lost when the earldom of Pembroke was taken from me,’ I reminded him. ‘Men aren’t eager to follow the banner of a knight who has lost his honours. I’m having to win them almost one man at a time, through threats or promises, and it’s not easy. We need not only men, but horses and weapons and armour. It’s a huge undertaking. I keep delaying my departure and making excuses to Dermot which I’m certain he doesn’t like.

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