Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [159]
“What a gloomy fellow he is,” the king answered with a smile, and the others had laughed. But when Morann had happened to meet him in the street the next day, the king had taken his arm and told him quietly, “You’re right about Brian, of course. But when he comes back, we’ll have a different reception ready for him.” He gave Morann a friendly nod. “Be warned.”
It was two days after this conversation that Morann went out to Fingal to visit his friend Harold. It was four months since he had seen him.
He was pleased, on his arrival at Harold’s farmstead, to find the Norseman looking fit and cheerful. They spent a pleasant hour looking over the farmstead, which was in excellent order, in the company of his children. Only when they were alone did Morann broach the subject of Caoilinn.
“I hear that Rathmines was left with more than half its livestock.”
“I heard it, too. And that other farmsteads there were stripped. I am grateful to you, Morann.”
“You have not been over there?”
“I have not.” It was said firmly, and grimly.
“Have you received any word of thanks? I told her son, at the time it happened, that it was you who should be thanked.”
“I have heard nothing. But I do not expect to. The thing was done. That is all.” It was clear to Morann that his friend had no further wish to discuss the subject, and he did not bring it up again during his stay that day. When he left the following morning, however, he had come to a private decision. It was time he went to see Caoilinn himself.
She was not alone, the next day, when he arrived at Rathmines. Her son was with her. Was it for that reason, he wondered, that she was guarded?
It was certainly clear that she had no wish to see him. When, sitting in the big hall, he politely mentioned that he was glad to hear her livestock had survived the trouble at Dyflin, her son gave a nod of acknowledgement and murmured, “Thanks to you.” But Caoilinn stared straight ahead, as though she had not heard him.
“I was out in Fingal recently,” he said. His words fell like a stone on the ground. There was silence. He thought that she was about to move away, and he was ready to follow her if she did; but then an interesting thing happened. Her son abruptly got up and went outside, so that he was left alone in the hall with Caoilinn. Without breaking all the rules of hospitality, she could not very well do the same and desert him. He saw her frown with vexation. He didn’t care.
“I was at Harold’s farmstead,” he said calmly. Then he waited, practically forcing her to respond.
But whatever response he might have expected, it was not the one he got. For after a prolonged silence, in a voice that was quiet with anger, she remarked, “I am surprised that, in the circumstances, you would mention his name in this house.”
“In the circumstances?” He stared in disbelief. “Didn’t he save you from ruin? Have you no word of thanks for his kindness?”
“Kindness?” She looked at him with scorn and also, it seemed, incomprehension. “His vengeance, you mean.” Though Morann’s face still registered bewilderment, she did not appear to see it. Indeed, she seemed to be talking to herself rather than to him as she went on. “To have Brian Boru, the filthy devil, living in my own husband’s house. Eating his cattle. Waited upon by his own children. Wasn’t that a fine revenge for my calling him a cripple?” She shook her head slowly.
And for the first time, Morann realised the extent of her pain and sadness.
“It was not Harold,” he said simply. “He never had any dealings with Brian. He is under the protection of the O’Neill king, you know. But he asked me to persuade Brian not to destroy your husband’s estate. So it was I that caused Brian to come here.” He shrugged. “It was the only way.” He saw Caoilinn make a gesture of impatience. “You must understand,” he went on more urgently, even taking her by the arm, “that he only tried to save you and your family from ruin. He admired what you had done. He told me so. You do him an injustice.”
She was very pale. She