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

began to listen intently and Cliar spent a long time wiping the table close to where the Marshal sat, even though it did not need to be cleaned at all. ‘I want you to send men out tomorrow into the woods to find the stag’s trails and start marking out the territory where it has been. I have sent messengers to the local lords to join us here on Thursday evening and we will have the hunt on Mayday, the day after that. It will be a suitable day for the hunt. That will give you, my lady’ – he nodded towardsLady Johanna – ‘a chance to organise accommodation and food. Let us hope the weather will improve before then.’
    ‘Are you inviting any of the Irish allies?’ Lady Johanna’s lip curled at the thought of entertaining Irish lords.
    Sir Richard shook his head. ‘No. Hunts are dangerous, and not just because the animals we hunt can attack us. I have heard stories of hunts that have gone terribly wrong … it is far too easy for a stray arrow to hit a man. And between the confusion of the hunt and the darkness of the forest who can say it was anything but an accident? In any case, the Irish would refuse to hunt the Silver Stag – they hold it in some kind of superstitious veneration.’
    ‘They say it is a magical beast,’ said Robert the Marshal. ‘And no other stag I have ever heard of has been silver.’
    ‘Silver or gold, it will end up in the pot and its antlers will be hung on the wall of this hall. I am Lord of Bunratty and that is my word.’

    The children were very busy in the two days before the hunt. Cliar spent a lot of time running down to the mill in the village and each time she came back she carried a mysterious bundle. Maude and Tuan went to the forest each day and returned with equally mysterious and rather smelly bundles which they hid in Tuan’s tiny chamber. Tuan hadobjected strongly to using his room as a store, but Maude pointed out that the smell of pig and hen would disguise any other bad smell that might cause suspicion among the servants of the castle. Matthieu made friends with Robert the Marshal, who was also Master of the Hounds, displaying a totally new interest in hound lore and hunting, and keeping a sharp eye on where Robert kept the store of raw offal which he fed to the hounds every night.
    Cliar finally told the others about the ghostly inhabitants of the castle who might be able to help them with their plan to save the stag. Her secret had been found out at one of their many meetings. Tuan and Cliar had joined Maude and Matthieu in their room and Maude had been talking. Suddenly, she stopped and said to Cliar: ‘What is it, Cliar? Why do you sometimes look as if you’re listening to someone who isn’t there?’
    Cliar said nothing for a moment. Should she tell them what she kept from everyone, even Margaret? Like everyone else in the castle, they obviously could not see or hear anything out of the ordinary.
    ‘It’s the ghosts,’ she said finally. ‘I’m the only one in the castle that can see them. They are the people who lived here before us. People have been settled here for a long, long time – they say that the Danes had a camp here, long beforethe Normans sailed up the river, and before them the Irish kings held court here.’
    Matthieu interrupted: ‘Who were the Danes?’
    ‘They were pirates and robbers who attacked the monasteries and stole their gold and killed the monks. It was Brian Boru, the ancestor of the O’Briens of Thomond, who drove them out of Ireland.’
    When Cliar paused, Tuan added, unable to keep a smile off his face, ‘They say the Danes, the sea pirates, are the ancestors of the Normans …’
    Cliar, noticing that Maude was about to say something, continued quickly: ‘Everything that happened here has left a mark – the battles and the murders and the betrayals, and the good times too. The feasts and the laughter and the children who played here. They are all around us, all the time, filling the air. The man who built the