Free Pride of Lions by Morgan Llywelyn Page B

succeeding him. Of course, what he wanted no longer matters."
    "Are you so sure?" Gormlaith asked softly. "Remember--one of his sons is my own Donnchad."
    "That boy? He's not High King material."
    Gormlaith drew in her breath with a hiss.
    "Who are you to judge?"
    "I am also your son," Sitric reminded her.
    "You are a proven loser," she retorted.
    "You had enough allies to conquer the world and you still couldn't defeat him. To think I gave birth to you! But I would like to be proud of at least one of my sons --perhaps I will help Donnchad succeed his father as Ard Ri so he can punish you as you deserve."
    Sitric was taken aback. "You wouldn't," he said faintly.
    "Would I not?" Her eyes glittered. Whatever had been languishing in their depths rose toward the surface, scenting an easy kill.

Chapter Eleven
    The return of the army to Kincora should have been a triumphal progress, but an unrelenting melancholy accompanied them every step of the way.
    The horsemen rode at a weary walk for the most part, only stirring their animals into a trot when they had a hill to climb. Dragging the sledges carrying the wounded and dead, the foot warriors slouched along in no particular order, the discipline Brian Boru had enforced now abandoned.
    A lantern-jawed man in a badly torn saffron tunic growled, "We won, but what did we win? The Ard Ri's dead. That maggot Sitric still holds Dublin. The invaders have gone back to where they came from, but they may return next spring, or the year after."
    "They always do," commented another, whose bloody axe was thrust uncleaned through his belt, rusting.
    A third man added, "As long as we have fat cattle and yellow gold and fair women, some foreigner will try to plunder us. It's as certain as fleas in your bedding."
    "I won't let anyone plunder us," Donough wanted to say. "I can defend Ireland just as my father did."
    But he kept silent, half afraid they would laugh at him.
    Beltaine--May in the Christian calendar--
    lay sweetly across the land, fragrant with the bloom of whitethorn. After a cold, wet spring the sun shone almost every day as if trying to make up for past omissions. Mud dried, making marching easier.
    But the Dalcassians remained haunted by Clontarf.
    As they drew near the Shannon, however, Donough felt his spirits rise. He began sitting taller on his horse and craning his neck as if he could glimpse Kincora through the dense woods east of the river. In his mind Kincora represented prestige and security in a world where both were hard come by. He loved the sprawling fort as his father had loved it, inordinately proud of every stone and timber.
    He was, however, uncomfortably aware that Brian had left Teigue in charge. Donough had the army of Munster with him, at least its largest, Dalcassian component, but Teigue held the royal stronghold.
    While the army was still some distance away, scouts observed its approach and hurried to Kincora to report to Teigue.
    They found him in the great hall, which crowned a hill south of the eel weir on the Shannon that gave Kincora--Ceann Coradh, Head of the Weir--its name. The immense rectangular hall served a dual purpose. Brian Boru had used it as his audience chamber as well as his banqueting hall, calculatedly awing visitors with an ostentatious display of gold cups and bejeweled goblets on every table in the room.
    The Ard Ri's private apartments had been built of stone, but his great hall was made of wattle-and-timber paneled with fragrant cedar, its shingled roof supported by pillars made from tree trunks adzed to a uniform size, then inlaid with silver and copper. Brightly colored woolen wall hangings suspended from bronze rods deflected draughts. The hall boasted not one but two stone hearths, each a third of the way down the center, and blazed with an extravagance of beeswax candles.
    The Ard Ri's carved bench sat on a raised dais to the right of the main doorway. In his father's absence, Teigue had not presumed to occupy the royal seat, but