Read Online Yseult: A Tale of Love in the Age of King Arthur by Ruth Nestvold - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ruth Nestvold
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horse races were on the third day of the festival, first with riders and then with chariots. They were normally one of the high points of Lugnasad, but this year conflict between Laigin and Ulaid, Connachta and Ui Neill was simmering just below the surface, and the crowds were tense and on edge. As useful as it might be to determine the moods of those she met, Queen Yseult had to shield herself from other minds. The sun shone just as brightly, the ale was just as rich, but more people noticed the scorching heat rather than the warming rays, more drank the ale for oblivion rather than refreshment. Spirits were strained and tempers high. Several times fights had almost broken out between members of the Midhe and the Laigin, or Mumu and Connachta, although the raising of weapons was forbidden during the celebration of Lugh.
The crowd gathered at the practice grounds was so huge, Queen Yseult could barely see beyond the sea of heads. Blond, red, brown, braided, bleached, shaved, flowing free, caught by the wind, a checkerboard of colors and styles. The visitors had decked themselves out in their finest, and precious metals glinted in the sunlight: torcs, bracelets, armbands, fine beads woven into braids, clasps, pins, brooches. They were festive, beautiful, a feast for the eye, and despite fears of what would come to pass during the next few days, the queen found a smile catching her lips at the sight of so much beauty and finery.
Her daughter looked particularly striking in white breeches and tunic, with a belt of silver and a torc of gold. Her white-gold hair was bound back in a thick braid decorated at the end with beads of silver. Yseult's white mare, Duchann Bhan, was nearly as fine as she, tossing her head proudly, new bronze headgear glinting in the strong morning sun. Together, they were a bright medley of white and gold and silver.
The queen smiled proudly as she watched her daughter swing onto the back of her mare. No, it wasn't wise, the course she was taking for Yseult's sake, but she could not willingly allow her own prophecy to be fulfilled and send her daughter to a life the girl would abhor.
Yseult the Wise noted without surprise that all eyes were on her namesake rather than any of her opponents. The queen scanned the crowd, and her gaze locked with that of a young man staring at her instead of her daughter. His eyes reflected the intense blue of the summer sky and his hair was the color of Duchann Bhan's new headgear. He nodded in her direction and the queen nodded back, trying to remember who he was. He was standing with Dunlaing and Enna Cennsalach, two of the most powerful kings of the Laigin, and a girl of about seven was holding his hand.
Queen Yseult spotted Boinda in the crowd and made her way over to him. "Who are the young man and the little girl in the party of the Laigin kings?"
Boinda looked in the direction she indicated. "That is Crimthann, son of Enna Cennsalach, and his daughter Edain."
"A young father."
Boinda nodded. "He was married at sixteen to Mell, daughter of Erebran of Mumu." Most men who could afford it were married by the age of twenty, but sixteen was young even for a prince.
"I remember now. Mell died in childbed." The queen glanced in the direction of the widowed prince again, only to find that he was still regarding her steadily. Among the turmoil of so many minds, she didn't dare try to open up her own to find him, but she suspected he might have heard from one of the Laigin kings of her plans to divorce Lóegaire at Lugnasad and was speculating on taking a chance at the kingmaker. An ambitious young man, he had led a number of raids against the Bretain, particularly after the brutal attack on Bend Atair by Coroticus.
He at least was not likely to support Lóegaire's peace with the tribes of the Bretain.
* * * *
Duchann Bhan pranced eagerly beneath her as Yseult lined up with the other riders for the race. The morning sun was hot on her back and her mare's hide scratched
The crowd gathered at the practice grounds was so huge, Queen Yseult could barely see beyond the sea of heads. Blond, red, brown, braided, bleached, shaved, flowing free, caught by the wind, a checkerboard of colors and styles. The visitors had decked themselves out in their finest, and precious metals glinted in the sunlight: torcs, bracelets, armbands, fine beads woven into braids, clasps, pins, brooches. They were festive, beautiful, a feast for the eye, and despite fears of what would come to pass during the next few days, the queen found a smile catching her lips at the sight of so much beauty and finery.
Her daughter looked particularly striking in white breeches and tunic, with a belt of silver and a torc of gold. Her white-gold hair was bound back in a thick braid decorated at the end with beads of silver. Yseult's white mare, Duchann Bhan, was nearly as fine as she, tossing her head proudly, new bronze headgear glinting in the strong morning sun. Together, they were a bright medley of white and gold and silver.
The queen smiled proudly as she watched her daughter swing onto the back of her mare. No, it wasn't wise, the course she was taking for Yseult's sake, but she could not willingly allow her own prophecy to be fulfilled and send her daughter to a life the girl would abhor.
Yseult the Wise noted without surprise that all eyes were on her namesake rather than any of her opponents. The queen scanned the crowd, and her gaze locked with that of a young man staring at her instead of her daughter. His eyes reflected the intense blue of the summer sky and his hair was the color of Duchann Bhan's new headgear. He nodded in her direction and the queen nodded back, trying to remember who he was. He was standing with Dunlaing and Enna Cennsalach, two of the most powerful kings of the Laigin, and a girl of about seven was holding his hand.
Queen Yseult spotted Boinda in the crowd and made her way over to him. "Who are the young man and the little girl in the party of the Laigin kings?"
Boinda looked in the direction she indicated. "That is Crimthann, son of Enna Cennsalach, and his daughter Edain."
"A young father."
Boinda nodded. "He was married at sixteen to Mell, daughter of Erebran of Mumu." Most men who could afford it were married by the age of twenty, but sixteen was young even for a prince.
"I remember now. Mell died in childbed." The queen glanced in the direction of the widowed prince again, only to find that he was still regarding her steadily. Among the turmoil of so many minds, she didn't dare try to open up her own to find him, but she suspected he might have heard from one of the Laigin kings of her plans to divorce Lóegaire at Lugnasad and was speculating on taking a chance at the kingmaker. An ambitious young man, he had led a number of raids against the Bretain, particularly after the brutal attack on Bend Atair by Coroticus.
He at least was not likely to support Lóegaire's peace with the tribes of the Bretain.
* * * *
Duchann Bhan pranced eagerly beneath her as Yseult lined up with the other riders for the race. The morning sun was hot on her back and her mare's hide scratched
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