The Silver Stag of Bunratty by Eithne Massey Read Free Book Online

hall could hold any more, but more men still pushed their way in through the doors, shouting loud greetings to their comrades. Most of them were soldiers, who made their living through battle, their faces showing every possible variation of scar and bruise. At least half a dozen of them had broken noses. They had all been called in from the outer reaches of De Clare’s territories.
    The noise and movement was making Tuan feel dizzy. Mixed with the smell of roasting meat was that of the wicks burning in fat, and, in the heat of the hall, the smells of all the people around him. At least he was far away from Fat John. He shook his head to clear it andtried to hear what Sir Richard was discussing with the Captain – no doubt their plan for the hunt, or was it battle talk? He was too far from Matthieu and Maude to speak to them, although he had been given the honour of being seated above the place where the huge silver salt-cellar, shaped like a stag, sat in the centre of the table. Only servants and soldiers sat below the salt. He noticed that Maude, further up the table, was listening intently. Maude would tell him later what was being said. Earlier that day, they had agreed that they would all try to gather as much information as they could about the planned hunt of the Silver Stag.
    Maude was able to overhear most of the conversation at the head of the table. Sir Richard was saying: ‘The capture of the stag will give our men, and those of our allies, courage for the battles ahead. It will lift everybody’s spirits.’
    ‘And if you do not catch it?’ asked Lady Johanna.
    Sir Richard gave her a sour look. ‘That is not something we will consider, my lady. We will kill the stag just as we will defeat Turlough O’Brien.’
    ‘Is that who we are fighting now?’ said Lady Johanna, her voice still scornful. ‘It is so hard to keep up with all the changes.’
    ‘I have explained to you before – we support the Irish clans that acknowledge our lordship. But that can change. They often try to use our alliances in their own petty wars. But the fact that they spend so much time fighting one another helps us to keep them under control.’
    Maude smiled. The Irish were not the only ones who battled with each other all the time. The Norman English also fought each other for control of the land and people. She had tried to follow the various alliances Sir Richard had been part of since she had come to Ireland, but had given up. But one thing was clear: most of his alliances with the Irish were made because these Irish were enemies of some of the other great Norman lords in Ireland. And the Irish knew this, and used this knowledge for their own ends in their own wars. She still thought Margaret’s description was the best she had heard: ‘No wonder they call these lands the Swordlands. The Irish fight the Irish and the English fight the English and they both fight each other. That’s Thomond for ye.’
    Now, Maude could not resist saying, ‘But I thought it was part of the code of knighthood to be loyal to your alliances and keep your word?’
    Sir Richard’s frown deepened. He hated being reminded of previous alliances.
    ‘It’s politics, child, you would not understand. Women and children can never understand such things.’
    Cliar caught Maude making a face as he said this. The sight of her crossing her eyes was so comical that Cliar could not help giving a yelp of laughter, and she almost spilled the ale she was pouring into Fat John’s cup. He growled and grabbed her arm, twisting the flesh to make his grasp even more painful.
    ‘What, witch girl? Do you mean to drown me?’ he said.
    Sir Richard frowned and pricked Fat John’s arm with the point of his knife, so the Captain dropped the arm he was twisting.
    ‘Let the child get on with her work,’ said Sir Richard. ‘Now, about the hunt. Robert, we need to discuss tactics,’ he called to his Marshal, who was seated further down the table. Maude and Matthieu