The Silver Stag of Bunratty (10 page)

CHAPTER 13

T
UAN

he day after these events, life in Bunratty suddenly changed. Even the air seemed to become harsher, colder. It was no longer a place where people lived ordinary lives, but a barracks preparing for battle. Lady Johanna, thin-lipped and sharp-tongued, gave orders to start gathering in as much food as possible, in case they should be put under siege. There had been sieges at the castle before now, and for once Lady Johanna unbent enough to talk to Maude about them.

‘Sieges are dreadful. The waiting that goes on and on, the hunger, the sickness caused by the lack of fresh water and fresh air. And the boredom. The terrible fights that break out between people who have been cooped up together day after day, sometimes for months. I have seen people go mad during sieges.’

Margaret too looked deeply unhappy, more unhappy than Cliar had ever seen her. She remembered more than one siege at Bunratty; she had lost a husband to one and her parents to another. Her only consolation was that summer was coming.

‘At least the cows have started giving more milk now that there’s more grass, and we can start the cheesemaking. And there have been good catches of fish down in the Shannon. Cliar, you can start salting the load that Marcus brought in this morning.’

Cliar sighed. This was a job she hated, gutting the fish and placing them between layers of salt in big wooden barrels. Her arms would sting from the salt for days and, even worse, she could not get rid of the smell of fish from her skin and clothes. She would even go swimming in the icy Shannon to try to remove the smell, but it didn’t work. Maude had given her some scented soap, and that helped a little. After two hours of gutting and salting, she had more than enough. Tuan, coming to look for her in the kitchen, found her crying as she pulled the slimy red innards into piles and flung them onto the dung heap. Flies had gathered around her and she waved them away angrily.

‘I hate this kitchen,’ she said, and Tuan realised that he had never heard her sound so angry. ‘It’s like being in hell.
One day I’ll just run away from here. I don’t care what happens to me, but at least I won’t have to gut another fish or chop another onion.’

‘Dump those and come with me to the roof,’ said Tuan. ‘Quick, before anyone sees. Maude has some news for us.’

Maude indeed had news, and she told her tale with a white, shocked face. The worst had happened.

Maude had been alone in her chamber with Gile. Because of her flight from the castle she was in disgrace and had been told to help Margaret with packing away valuables into the chests of the Great Hall. But instead she had sneaked back upstairs and was lying in a shaft of sunlight with a very contented dog. Gile was snoring slightly with his paws in the air while she quietly deloused him. She heard a noise on the other side of the thin partition; Sir Richard had come into his chamber to talk privately to Lady Johanna.

Maude listened intently. Sir Richard was speaking in Latin. She knew by experience that when her guardians spoke Latin, they wished to keep what they were saying as secret as possible. Maude’s Latin, thought not as good as Matthieu’s, was good enough to follow most of their conversation. At first they talked about the attacks to the
north of Bunratty, but then she heard Tuan’s name mentioned and her ears strained even harder to hear what was being said.

‘It will be a pity to harm the child, for he’s a good enough boy. But nothing else can be done; the Mac Conmaras must be taught that they cannot take me for a fool.’ Sir Richard’s voice was harsh.

‘That’s true enough,’ said Lady Johanna. ‘But how are we to do it? We cannot do anything in the castle, for he is well liked and there would be uproar from the children and the servants. You must do it quietly and quickly, away from Bunratty.’

‘That I know,’ said Lord De Clare. ‘It is better that I should not be here when it is done, so once I have left for Dysert O’Dea, Fat John will take the child out of the castle. He will make up some story about meeting his family, of returning him to them. He will do what is necessary; hit him from behind like a dog when his mind is elsewhere. Then he can send his son Godric with the body to lay it out where it will be found by the Mac Conmaras, somewhere on the borders of their land. That will teach them to have respect for me again.’

Lady Johanna sighed. ‘And when will this be?’

‘I leave tomorrow at dawn. After I have left, Fat John
will take him away. Then he will continue south to tell Prior Outlaw to join me at Dysert.’

‘And you do not think Tuan will be suspicious? There is no love between him and Fat John.’

‘I think not, but if he is, Fat John will drug him and carry him out of the castle over his saddle.’

Maude put her hand over her mouth. She was shaking as if with cold, although the sun still beamed through the window. She could not believe that her guardians were planning to kill Tuan. Even if it were true that the Mac Conmara clan had broken the truce, Tuan himself had done nothing. Nor had his parents, who had made the agreement with Sir Richard.

She tried to think straight. Tuan had to get out of the castle tonight. But how this could be done was, thought Maude gloomily, a different matter altogether.

But Lady Johanna and Sir Richard had not finished their conversation.

‘On another matter,’ said Sir Richard. ‘You know that De Burgh has a young nephew, the same age as Maude?’

‘I had heard so, but I have never met him; your alliance with De Burgh is so recent.’

‘So it is, and still fragile. I have thought of a way to make it stronger. As we have no daughter of our own, do
you think it might serve us well to marry Maude to him? She is young, but girls her age have been married before now, and she is of no use to you here in the castle.’

For once, Lady Johanna sounded quite cheerful. ‘Faith, I would be glad to see the back of her. Especially after her latest romp. It is a pity the De Burghs are not here tonight for the dancing. What is the De Burgh boy like?’

‘Quite ugly and very stupid, as far as I can remember, but does that matter?’

‘Not at all,’ said Lady Johanna.

They both laughed as they left the room.

Maude sat biting her lip. So she was to be sold off to strengthen Sir Richard’s alliances. But more serious than that threat was the danger to Tuan. She had to warn him. She had to warn him even though her code of honour meant that her loyalty was to her lord, to Sir Richard, not to a boy she would once have described as an Irish savage. But the Irish savage was now her good friend. Perhaps the code of knighthood was not always right? Maude buried her face in Gile’s fur, thinking hard. Was that possible? Ever since she could remember, Maude had listened to her father talk about the code, how it made the Normans different from everyone else. Made them better. She had desperately wanted to be a knight
herself. It had made her so angry that Matthieu was the one who was given training in the use of arms. One day he would be raised to the rank of Sir Matthieu and be allowed out into the world to make his fortune and have adventures. She would be stuck behind the walls of some castle, no doubt married to some awful husband. She would have to listen to everything he said and pretend to be interested. She would have to obey him, even if he was someone stupid and cruel. She would have nothing to do but look after the kitchen and have babies and sew and say her prayers. And it seemed that this fate awaited her very soon, in the form of De Burgh’s stupid and ugly nephew. The thought of it made her want to spit. No, that was not the life she wanted.

But did she really want to be a knight either, now that she had seen the battle on the hillside? What she had seen there had made her wonder about how much chivalry or honour there really was in battle. Blood everywhere and men’s bodies broken so that they screamed out in agony? It had little grace about it.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts away. She was wasting time. She was not someone who went through agonies about what to do before she acted. And although this trait often got her into trouble, in a crisis it was her strength. Think about what to do
now
, she told herself. It
was simple, really: Tuan was her friend. She would have to get him out of the castle and away from Bunratty somehow, and as quickly as possible.

She stood up as Matthieu came into the chamber. At first he did not notice that Maude had been crying. When he saw how upset she was, he went over to her and gave her a hug.

‘What is it?’ he asked. For once she did not shake him off, but hugged him back.

‘I overheard something,’ she whispered. ‘They’re planning to kill Tuan.’

Matthieu’s mouth opened in shock. Tuan? Tuan, who was kind; Tuan who didn’t tease him; Tuan who tried to help him with his sword-play and archery without making him feel stupid, as Maude did?

‘Who – who is planning it?’ he asked. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I heard Sir Richard and Lady Johanna talking about it,’ said Maude. ‘It’s true.’

Matthieu started to cry.

I should have known better, thought Maude. Matthieu was still a baby, and though she loved him dearly and would have protected him with her life, she could not really depend on him to help. Cry, yes; help, no.

Matthieu caught her look and wiped his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. Look, I’ve stopped. But we have to save him, don’t we? We
have to get him to safety, like we did with the stag. Cliar will help, and Dame Anna. Can we go and tell Tuan and Cliar what’s happening?’

Maude nodded. ‘Yes, we have to act quickly. Fat John is going to take him away from the castle tomorrow!’

When the four children met on the roof, Maude, despite knowing exactly what she wanted to say, found it hard to start. She suddenly realised that she didn’t know how to tell Tuan that he was going to be killed.

‘I overheard Lady Johanna and Sir Richard talking …’ she began, then stopped.

Matthieu burst out: ‘They’re plotting to kill Tuan. It’s because of what happened with the Mac Conmaras.’

‘But that’s not my father’s family!’ said Tuan angrily. ‘They’re distant cousins, yes, but it is not my father who attacked! He has not broken his promise!’