Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [140]
“Ah, I see. And you hope your valuables will be safe from me there. They tell me you left nothing much in your house. Those who rebel have to pay the price, you know.”
“I didn’t rebel.” It was the truth.
“Did you not?”
“That man could tell you.” Morann indicated the amber merchant. “I told the Dyflin men that it was a mistake to oppose you. They were not pleased. Then I left.”
King Brian turned to the amber merchant, who nodded his confirmation.
“So why did you come back?” the king demanded.
Morann related the exact details of parts of his journey, how he had set out with Osgar and the nun, and his discovery that Harold’s wife and children had been taken. He discreetly omitted the incident at Rathmines and his flight with Caoilinn and her husband to the monastery, and hoped that Brian was unaware of it.
“You came back for your friends?” Brian turned round to the others and remarked, “As this man’s not stupid, he must be brave.” And then, turning back to Morann again, he coolly observed, “You are a friend to Ostmen, it seems.”
“Not especially.”
“Your wife’s family are Ostmen.” It was said quietly, but it contained a warning. This king was not to be deceived. “That must be why you came to live here in the first place: your love of Ostmen.”
Was King Brian playing with him, like a cat with a mouse?
“In fact,” Morann replied evenly, “it was my father who brought me here, when I was little more than a boy.” For a moment he smiled at the memory of that journey down, past the ancient tombs above the River Boyne. “My family were craftsmen, honoured by kings since before Saint Patrick came. And my father hated the Ostmen. But he made me come to Dyflin because he said that Dyflin was the place of the future.”
“Did he now? And is he alive, still, this man of wisdom?” It was hard to tell whether this was sarcastic or not.
“He’s long dead.”
King Brian was silent. He seemed to be thinking to himself. Then he moved close to the craftsman.
“When I was young, Morann Mac Goibnenn,” he spoke so softly that Morann was probably the only person who heard him, “I hated the Ostmen. They had invaded our land. We fought them. I once even burned down their port of Limerick. Do you think that was wise of me?”
“You had to teach them a lesson, I should think.”
“Perhaps. But it was I, Morann Mac Goibnenn, who needed to learn a lesson.” He paused, and then he took a small object from his hand and placed it in Morann’s. “What do you think of this?” It was a small silver coin. The King of Dyflin had started minting them just two years ago. In Morann’s opinion, the workmanship was not especially fine, but passable enough. Before waiting for his reply, Brian continued. “The Romans minted coins a thousand years ago. Coins are minted in Paris and in Normandy. The Danes mint coins in York; the Saxons have mints in London and several other towns. But where do we mint coins on this island? Nowhere, except in the Ostmen’s port of Dyflin. What does that tell you, Morann?”
“That Dyflin is the island’s greatest port, and that we trade across the sea.”
“Yet even now our native chiefs still count their wealth in cattle.” The king sighed. “There are three realms on this island, Morann. There is the interior, with its forests and pastures, its raths and farmsteads, the realm that goes back into the mists of time, to Niall of the Nine Hostages, and Cuchulainn and the goddess Eriu—the realm from which our kings have come. Then there is the realm of the Church, of the monasteries, of Rome, with its learning and its riches in protected places. That is the realm our kings have learned to respect and love. But now there is a third realm, Morann, the realm of the Ostmen, with their ports and their trading across the high seas. And that realm we still have not learned to make our own.” He shook his head. “The O’Neill High King thinks he is a great fellow because he holds the right to Tara and has the blessing of Saint Patrick’s Church. But I tell you, if he does not command the Ostmen’s fleets and make himself also the master of the sea,