Free Brian Boru by Morgan Llywelyn

most powerful tribe in all of Ireland. The High King himself is always chosen from among the O’Neills. Marriage with Achra will give us a small but vital connection to them and allow me to begin extending my influence beyond the borders of Munster.’
    ‘You’re doing this for the sake of your own ambition!’
    ‘There is nothing wrong with ambition, Murcha, if it isn’t selfish. I am ambitious, I admit that, but it’s not just for myself. It is also for my people.’
    ‘I don’t understand you,’ Murcha said.
    ‘You don’t want to understand me. You don’t listen to anything I say.’
    ‘And why should I?’ cried Murcha. ‘When did you listen to me, or care how I felt?’
    ‘That isn’t true,’ Brian started to say, but Murcha had already turned away.
    Over his shoulder the young man shouted back at his father, ‘I’m leaving Cashel. I’m old enough to look after myself. I don’t need anything from you, Brian Boru, and I don’t want a new mother!’ He stormed out of the hall.
    He did not see the pain in his father’s eyes.
    ‘Go after him and bring him back,’ Marcan urged.
    ‘It wouldn’t do any good. He would run away again, and resent me all the more.’ Brian felt as if this latest loss was the worst he had suffered. It hurt so deeply he did not want to talk about it. He clamped his jaw shut and turned his attention to the business of kingship, and the preparations for his marriage to Achra of Meath.
    At first Murcha went to the monastic school where he had learned to read and write. The monks made him welcome, but they did not urge him to stay. Brian had recently helped them to built a new chapel and a round tower, and they did not want him to think they were taking Murcha’s side. In time the young man drifted on, seeking a place of his own. A place beyond the reach of Brian Boru.
    No sooner had Brian wed plump and cheerful Achra, who had gold in her braids and freckles on her nose, than new trouble broke out. Unlike Mor, who was sweet and shy, Achra had a gift for making Brian laugh and he was enjoying a jest of hers in the great hall at Cashel when a messenger came with the news.
    In spite of Brian’s efforts, not all the tribes of Munster had given him their loyalty. The Deise in the southeastwere claiming that the tribute demanded of them was too large. The Danish King of Waterford had learned of this, and with a mixture of threats and promises he set out to make allies of the Deise.
    The new alliance between an Irish tribe and a Danish king reached the ears of Donal, the Irish King of Leinster. Leinster and Munster were old enemies. Any weapon that could be used against the strong new King of Munster was welcome news to Donal, who announced he would join with the Deise and the Waterford Danes. Together they would destroy Brian Boru before he gained any more power.
    ‘Who are these Dalcassians anyway?’ Donal demanded to know. ‘They were an unknown tribe before this Brian Boru. Let them fade back into the mists where they belong!’
    Encouraged by such support, the king of the Deise attacked the nearest tribe to his, a tribe loyal to Brian. They sent a cry for help to Cashel. Before the day was over, Brian’s army was gathering around the standard of the three red lions.
    ‘Must you go away to battle?’ Achra protested. ‘I thought you told me you had made peace in Munster.’
    ‘Peace is never certain when the Danes are stirring up trouble,’ Brian told her. ‘Left to themselves, the Deise would not have risen against me. But the Waterford Danes have urged them to it and so I must fight them both. And perhaps Leinster as well,’ he added, with a faraway look in his eyes.
    Achra was a wise woman. She studied her new husband, then said, ‘I think you want to fight Leinster.’
    Brian flashed her a smile. ‘Perhaps. To test my strength.’
    ‘But for what reason?’
    He did not tell her. Murcha had accused him of ambition. Brian had decided it was wisest to keep his