Free Strongbow by Morgan Llywelyn

will allow him to retire in peace on a tiny scrap of the land he once ruled, and die an old man in his bed.’
    Basilia looked disappointed. It wasn’t a brave ending for the story.
    ‘Don’t worry, little sister,’ I assured her. ‘Neither Robert FitzHarding nor I think Dermot intends to keep the treaty and die in his bed. That wouldn’t be like him.’
    ‘What are the Irish like?’ she wanted to know.
    ‘Big, if Dermot Mac Murrough is anything to judge by. When I met him I was impressed with his size and strength. And the Irish customs and manners are very different from ours. The King of Leinster speaks good Church Latin, so I could talk to him, but his native tongue is as wild as Welsh.’
    Basilia giggled. ‘I hope you didn’t say that to him.’
    ‘Of course not,’ I assured her. I was never diplomatic, I had no giftfor saying careful things. But I had been careful for once in my life when I bargained with Dermot Mac Murrough.
    There was an edge to the man that told me I must be careful in dealing with him. But I didn’t say this to Basilia. I protected Basilia, always.
    O’Connor was generous to the defeated Dermot. It does him credit. Dermot made the most of the truce the High King offered him, by very tardily paying the honour price for O’Rourke’s stolen wife. He also swore loyalty to O’Connor.
    I don’t think he meant either gesture. In fact, I’m certain of it. Within weeks he was urgently demanding that his hired warriors set sail for Ireland at once. Messengers came to me at the gallop from Robert FitzHarding.
    I wonder where Dermot got the hundred ounces of gold for the stolen wife’s honour price. Later I heard a rumour that he had melted down his own wives’ jewellery, but that may have been a spiteful lie. People said all sorts of things about Dermot Mac Murrough.
    I didn’t say any of this to Basilia, either. Like our mother, she wanted her life to be filled with flowers. She wanted to hear pretty stories about noble kings and queens.
    My lovely little sister! Could I ever give her the kind of life I wanted her to have?
    Word reached me that FitzStephen was preparing to depart for Ireland at the end of April, in the Year of Our Lord 1169. He had three ships and would take ninety horsemen and three hundred men-at-arms to Dermot Mac Murrough. An uncle of mine, Hervey de Montmorency, was going to go with him.
    I summoned my captain, Raymond le Gros, and told him the news. ‘I’m worried that these adventurers will claim the lands that are promised to me,’ I said. ‘So I’ve asked my uncle to be my eyes and ears in Ireland until we arrive.’
    ‘How much of that promised land is going to be mine?’ Raymondwanted to know.
    Since I didn’t know how much land there was, I could hardly give him a figure. ‘All you earn,’ I said.
    ‘And your sister? If I have land, I want a wife.’
    I sighed. I had very little to pay him with, and I needed him. It looked as if I might have to give Basilia to him. But if so, I must make him as wealthy as I could first. In the meantime he must wait. ‘We’ll talk about marriage after the invasion,’ I told him. ‘When you have property in Ireland.’
    ‘When will that be?’
    ‘It’s taking a long time to recruit the size of army Dermot needs. Don’t be so impatient, Raymond.’
    But no one was as impatient as Dermot Mac Murrough. Every ship that crossed the Irish Sea brought fresh pleas from him, for men, for weapons. For an army, with me at its head.
    Two more ships, led by other land-hungry Normans, set out for Ireland with ten horses and more men-at-arms.
    As I would learn later, Dermot’s son Donal Mac Murrough Kavanaugh met them. Forming an army with FitzStephen’s men, they marched on the town of Wexford.
    I didn’t mind their attacking Wexford. I already knew that Dermot had promised it to FitzStephen and FitzGerald. A greater prize would be mine.
    The people of Wexford must have been horrified to see an army of foreign warriors