Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [218]
And if they did discover? A terrible, cold panic came over him at the thought of it. Consider who the girl was. The daughter of a churchman close to Lawrence O’Toole, and chief of an important local family. The sister of a priest involved in the negotiations with the High King. These were exactly the people that, if he was to take Diarmait’s place in Leinster, Strongbow needed as his friends. No matter that it was the girl who had practically seduced him. By sleeping with her he had dishonoured her family. For he had no doubts about the behaviour required of the unmarried daughter of an important family like this. He had abused his friendship with Gilpatrick and the hospitality of his parents. They would never forgive him. They’d demand his head and Strongbow would sacrifice him without blinking an eye. He was finished.
Was there any way out? What if he ended the affair now, and if nobody found out? The memory of the night he had just spent with her filled his thoughts: the scent of her, the warm, intense passion they had shared, the long, erotic passages of time as her pale body entwined with his, the things they had done. A man, he thought, would almost face death itself for such nights as these. Did he have to give this up?
Perhaps not. For now another calculation came into his mind.
Even if he got caught, the outcome needn’t be so bad. What if he were to brazen it out? Treat the whole business like a military engagement? That, he felt sure, was what a man like Strongbow would do. If Fionnuala were discovered, if word got out that she had been dishonoured, her chances of marriage to an Irish prince wouldn’t be too high. To keep her reputation, her family would have to consent, however unwillingly, to her marrying him. He considered her father’s situation: the income from the Church properties, the great tract of land he owned down the coast, his many cattle. Fionnuala was bound to receive a handsome dowry, if only to preserve her family honour. As the husband of a girl from such a prominent Leinster family, wouldn’t Strongbow, who was married to a Leinster princess himself, be likely to take an interest in him? If he kept a cool head, this business could turn out to be the best thing he ever did.
Two days later, he spent the night with Fionnuala again.
The siege of Dublin continued for weeks. Around the city, the besiegers had a pleasant time. The cattle and livestock, the gardens, orchards, fields, all the produce of the area were in their hands. In their camps, they could enjoy the warm summer and wait for the harvest to ripen.
Inside the city, however, things were not so pleasant. Although the watercourse from the south was cut off, there was plenty of water; there were fresh fish from the Liffey, though not enough. There were still the city’s grain stores; there were vegetable patches and some pigs. But by the time six weeks had passed, it was clear to Strongbow that, even keeping his troops on short rations, he could only hold out another three or four weeks at most. After that, they would have to start killing the horses.
It was not a surprise to Gilpatrick, therefore, in the sixth week of the siege, to be summoned by Archbishop O’Toole to join him on a mission to the High King’s camp. On this occasion, it seemed, he was to be the only person accompanying the great man. They set out at noon, riding across the long wooden bridge to Liffey’s northern side and then westwards a little way along the stream, to a point where the king had said he would meet them.
The archbishop looked tired. His ascetic, finely drawn face was showing lines of stress around the eyes; and Gilpatrick knew this was not only because he felt the weight of his responsibilities but