Free Scales of Retribution by Cora Harrison Page A

Mara hastily. She could not bear to allow her thoughts to dwell on Turlough out there, leading his kingdom’s forces, and perhaps never having the opportunity of seeing his new born son.
    ‘I suddenly thought of this idea a few weeks ago.’ Oisín, as always, was fluent and confident. ‘I thought: why not make half-size barrels, or even quarter-size barrels? I could make this my speciality. O’Davoren wines for wine lovers! I could, very likely, sell some to the people in all parts of the country, not just here in the west of Ireland. Perhaps even the Earl of Kildare himself.’
    ‘It’s a good idea,’ admitted Mara. ‘Will your brother be willing to leave Thomond, though, in order to work for you?’
    ‘Oh, I just want some advice from him and then I’ll set up my own operation. Build a few houses for the tree-fellers and a few shelters where the wood can season. After that I’ll think about employing some coopers to make quarter-size barrels.’
    ‘Well, it does sound a brilliant idea,’ said Ciara rising to her feet. ‘I shall have to tell Teige about it. He’s very fond of a good cup of wine in the evening. I must go now, Brehon. It’s been wonderful to see you and the baby, but I must get back to Lemeanah Castle and see what my young people are up to.’
    ‘Won’t you come into the house and have some refreshment?’ asked Mara. ‘Brigid will kill me if I allow you to go without anything to eat or drink.’
    ‘I won’t,’ said Ciara firmly. ‘You stay where you are and enjoy the sun. I’ll call in on Eileen when I get back, and I’ll ask her to come and see you tonight if she is interested.’
    ‘I’ll go to the gate with you,’ said Sorcha, rising to her feet and depositing her plump baby on her husband’s lap.
    There was a moment’s silence after she left. Mara held her sleeping son and admired the red and gold colouring of a tiny firecrest who was flashing in to peck the tiny oval seeds from the pink-flowered herb Robert plants in the grykes, and then flying away triumphantly. The man beside her sat very still, rocking his baby son. She glanced at him curiously and saw that his eyes were not on the child, but gazing across the clints as if he was viewing, in his mind’s eye, the unseen woodland that was going to bring him prosperity, or perhaps even riches. He felt her glance and turned to smile at her.
    ‘So, Mother, the sooner Malachy’s affairs can be wound up, the better for me.’
    ‘The murder has to come first,’ she said firmly. ‘There will be certain complications about Malachy’s affairs. You do realize that, although you are the heir to clan lands, under Brehon law his daughter must get land to graze seven cows and the house that she lives in – that is the house that she used to live in with her father.’
    ‘No problem about that,’ he said easily. ‘I’ve been thinking and I had a look around Caherconnell. The herb garden stretches to about two acres; the house meadow where Malachy had his cows and his hens should be another four or so, and then there is the big field where he kept his horse. All of that should amount to enough – and, of course, there is the property at Rathborney. I understand that the property was for Malachy’s use until Nuala comes of age, I suppose that will be for Caireen, will it? That’s what I was told, anyway.’
    ‘I’m not sure who gave you to understand that, but it is incorrect,’ said Mara emphatically. ‘The property at Rathborney was left to Nuala by its owner, Toin the Briuga. I drew up the will myself and these were the terms, as well as I can remember them.’ She half-shut her eyes and recited.
    ‘“ And I bequeath to Nuala, daughter of Malachy O’Davoren, physician in the kingdom of the Burren, my house at Rathborney and all the revenues from the farm situated in this place .
    ‘“ This gift ,”’ continued Mara opening her eyes and looking very directly at her son-in-law, ‘“ is for her to have and to