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Authors: Eithne Massey
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companions, desperate to move them on towards the stag.
The great beast looked at the children for a moment, amoment only, and then leapt into the water and began to swim upstream. The four children stood silently, watching the silver figure of the stag move away and become one with the shimmering water.
Moments later the first dogs had arrived, howling at the river as if trying to make it give back their prey. The Marshal rode up to the children, his face like thunder. ‘Didn’t I tell you to keep to the back of the hunt?’ he roared. ‘You have driven the stag to the river. The bloody beast has escaped us – we’ll never pick up the trail now.’
‘We didn’t drive the stag anywhere,’ said Maude, her voice and face as haughty as she could make it.
Sir Richard rode up, red-faced. ‘What? But didn’t we just see you drive the stag here?’
‘No, we did not,’ said Maude again. ‘We did not drive the stag anywhere.’ It came with us, she thought. We didn’t drive it. It’s almost the truth.
‘Then why the devil did it come this way?’ Sir Richard sounded weary rather than angry. ‘Well, we’ll never get the dogs or the horses to swim across there. In any case, they seem possessed by spirits today; I have never seen such a fiasco from beginning to end.’
‘Aye,’ said Robert, who looked deeply perplexed andashamed. ‘A cursed hunt if ever I saw one. What the devil got into the horses and hounds at the edge of the wood? It minds me of the stories of the wild hunts they tell of in the south, in Knockainy – of spirit hounds coming to fetch a soul.’ He shivered. ‘I hope it is not one of ours,’ he said.
‘That is all Irish nonsense,’ said Sir Richard. ‘It must have been something they ate. You must look to your dog boys, Robert, and find out what has been going on. But, then, the horses were no better … Well, the sport is over for the day, it seems. Come. Let’s get back to the castle. The sky is dark – that evil wind has brought rain with it as well as ill luck.’
It was true, and soon the rain poured down, making all the bright clothes wet and bedraggled.
When they got back to the castle, soaked and exhausted, there was a great bustle inside. Margaret saw the children enter and she almost dragged Cliar down from her horse.
‘I need you in the kitchen, and look at the state of you. Get out of your wet clothes and then come straight down. Tonight we have to feed many mouths and on top of everything else, an unexpected guest has arrived.’
CHAPTER 9
P RIOR R OGER O UTLAW
t was Roger Outlaw, Prior of the Hospitallers, and half a dozen of the brothers with him.
‘More work,’ Margaret grumbled. ‘As if we hadn’t enough to do with all the hunters here.’
Tuan had vaguely heard of Prior Roger, but he whispered to Maude: ‘Who is he? Who are the Hospitallers?’
‘Haven’t you heard of the Hospitallers?’ said Maude, with a touch of her old, scornful tone.
Tuan dug deep in his memory. ‘Maybe. They’re English Normans, and they fight the Irish too, don’t they?’ he said.
‘They are monks, well, sort of monks, but they’re knights and soldiers as well,’ said Maude. ‘The order was founded to protect the pilgrims in Jerusalem. Now they have houses all over Europe – my father is fighting with them in Rhodes. That’s where their headquarters are. Prior Rogerdoesn’t just fight the Irish, though. Actually he’s friendly with lots of the Irish tribes. That’s why he’s often sent out to make peace with the Irish, to make treaties. And he has come to Thomond to get the English lords to sit down and talk to one another. He is the most famous man in Ireland for getting people to talk to one another, and he’s a great soldier too. The Hospitallers are famous for their skill in battle and for their skill in politics. But they look after people who are sick and wounded too, and pilgrims.’
‘It’s little enough of looking after the sick and wounded Prior
The great beast looked at the children for a moment, amoment only, and then leapt into the water and began to swim upstream. The four children stood silently, watching the silver figure of the stag move away and become one with the shimmering water.
Moments later the first dogs had arrived, howling at the river as if trying to make it give back their prey. The Marshal rode up to the children, his face like thunder. ‘Didn’t I tell you to keep to the back of the hunt?’ he roared. ‘You have driven the stag to the river. The bloody beast has escaped us – we’ll never pick up the trail now.’
‘We didn’t drive the stag anywhere,’ said Maude, her voice and face as haughty as she could make it.
Sir Richard rode up, red-faced. ‘What? But didn’t we just see you drive the stag here?’
‘No, we did not,’ said Maude again. ‘We did not drive the stag anywhere.’ It came with us, she thought. We didn’t drive it. It’s almost the truth.
‘Then why the devil did it come this way?’ Sir Richard sounded weary rather than angry. ‘Well, we’ll never get the dogs or the horses to swim across there. In any case, they seem possessed by spirits today; I have never seen such a fiasco from beginning to end.’
‘Aye,’ said Robert, who looked deeply perplexed andashamed. ‘A cursed hunt if ever I saw one. What the devil got into the horses and hounds at the edge of the wood? It minds me of the stories of the wild hunts they tell of in the south, in Knockainy – of spirit hounds coming to fetch a soul.’ He shivered. ‘I hope it is not one of ours,’ he said.
‘That is all Irish nonsense,’ said Sir Richard. ‘It must have been something they ate. You must look to your dog boys, Robert, and find out what has been going on. But, then, the horses were no better … Well, the sport is over for the day, it seems. Come. Let’s get back to the castle. The sky is dark – that evil wind has brought rain with it as well as ill luck.’
It was true, and soon the rain poured down, making all the bright clothes wet and bedraggled.
When they got back to the castle, soaked and exhausted, there was a great bustle inside. Margaret saw the children enter and she almost dragged Cliar down from her horse.
‘I need you in the kitchen, and look at the state of you. Get out of your wet clothes and then come straight down. Tonight we have to feed many mouths and on top of everything else, an unexpected guest has arrived.’
CHAPTER 9
P RIOR R OGER O UTLAW
t was Roger Outlaw, Prior of the Hospitallers, and half a dozen of the brothers with him.
‘More work,’ Margaret grumbled. ‘As if we hadn’t enough to do with all the hunters here.’
Tuan had vaguely heard of Prior Roger, but he whispered to Maude: ‘Who is he? Who are the Hospitallers?’
‘Haven’t you heard of the Hospitallers?’ said Maude, with a touch of her old, scornful tone.
Tuan dug deep in his memory. ‘Maybe. They’re English Normans, and they fight the Irish too, don’t they?’ he said.
‘They are monks, well, sort of monks, but they’re knights and soldiers as well,’ said Maude. ‘The order was founded to protect the pilgrims in Jerusalem. Now they have houses all over Europe – my father is fighting with them in Rhodes. That’s where their headquarters are. Prior Rogerdoesn’t just fight the Irish, though. Actually he’s friendly with lots of the Irish tribes. That’s why he’s often sent out to make peace with the Irish, to make treaties. And he has come to Thomond to get the English lords to sit down and talk to one another. He is the most famous man in Ireland for getting people to talk to one another, and he’s a great soldier too. The Hospitallers are famous for their skill in battle and for their skill in politics. But they look after people who are sick and wounded too, and pilgrims.’
‘It’s little enough of looking after the sick and wounded Prior
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