Read Online Elizabeth Chadwick by The Outlaw Knight - Free Book Online Page B

sudden shout and the close thunder of hooves caused him to spin round and leap aside just in time to avoid being ridden down by a group of horsemen. They drew to a chaotic halt in the center of the bailey, their mounts barging each other, plunging, circling. The short, bright tunics and plaid cloaks would have marked them as Gaelic lords even if their beards had not. Each man sported a magnificent set of whiskers. Some let their facial hair flow loose to the waist. Others wore plaits, and one or two had divided their beards and waxed the ends heavily so that they were as stiff as spindles.
    Fulke gaped at them in astonishment.
    “A fine sight, do you not think so, Fulke FitzWarin?” said Oonagh, who had walked quietly up beside him, her dog at her heels.
    He gave a slight start and his pulse quickened. “Who are they?”
    “The first Irish lords coming to pay their respects to Prince John and claim his support for their cause.”
    “What cause?” He felt sufficiently emboldened this time to fondle the bitch’s silky ears. The hound raised her nose and snuffled the air, but had the manners not to snatch at the marrowbone in his other hand.
    “Their fight against other Irish lords who will also come and try to win your Prince’s influence. It has always been the same in this land. No single man is strong enough to hold the rest, and because they all have a similar power, they spend their time waging futile war.” She looked up at him. “Your Prince has mercenaries; your Prince has barrels of silver pennies to buy weapons and men; therefore, he is to be courted.”
    Fulke thought about what Archdeacon Gerald had said on the crossing about those barrels of pennies. “I do not believe he will make much of a bridegroom,” he said, then reddened because that last word set his mind on other paths.
    “Does any man?” she replied with the flicker of a smile. “Are you betrothed?”
    Fulke swallowed. “Not as yet, my lady.”
    “No.” Her expression hardened. “It is the girls who are bargained away before they are scarce out of childhood. How old are you, Fulke?”
    “Fifteen summers,” he said, wishing that the answer were more.
    “I had been wed for two years by the time I turned fifteen, but then girls grow up faster than boys. They have to.”
    Fulke asked if he could give the marrowbone to the dog. Oonagh nodded and spoke in Gaelic. The bitch wagged her tail and, opening her formidable jaws, took the offering from Fulke’s hand with a ladylike dignity. “Someone told me that Prince John would sell you in marriage to the highest bidder.”
    Oonagh laughed and the sound sent a chill down Fulke’s spine. “He can try,” she said, and laid her hand on his sleeve. “Would you offer for me?”
    Fulke knew very well she was playing with him. “If I did, he would refuse it. Prince John does not look kindly on me.”
    “The kindness would be in his refusal, I promise you. You would not want me for a wife.”
    “I—”
    “Fulke, we’re needed in the hall!” Jean came running across the ward. “William de Burgh wants attendants for the Irish lords and we’re to do duty.” Arriving, he bowed breathlessly to Oonagh and eyed with interest the way that her hand rested on Fulke’s sleeve.
    “And do your duty you must.” Oonagh released Fulke’s arm. “Thank you for the bone.”
    As the youths hurried toward the hall, Jean said enviously, “I do not know how you do it.”
    “Do what?”
    “Make a woman like that take notice of you. God knows half the squires in camp would give their eye teeth to have her touch them and gaze at them the way she gazes at you.”
    Fulke looked embarrassed. “She was just teasing.”
    “Aye, well, you’re fortunate to be so teased.”
    On reaching the hall they were immediately directed to the high table and commanded to bring wine. The Gael lords were clustered around the hearth, muttering among themselves and fingering their impressive beards. A couple of Norman