‘I understand my duty,’ I snapped. ‘I will marry Strongbow.’
‘Good. I’m relieved, but that’s not the impression you are giving around the castle with Myler.’
‘Do you think this is easy for me!’
‘No, I have no doubt, it’s not. But you are being reckless, and it is not the way we do things here.’
The whites of my knuckles showed as I stared at my hands clasped tightly in my lap. I could feel the tears welling and showing on my cheeks. Alice leaned forward and gently placed her hand on mine. I saw a tear drop onto the back of her hand.
‘Aoife, Strongbow is a good man. In time, a great respect can come between a man and a woman. Sometimes, even love will grow.’
‘I know, I know,’ I said shaking my head and wiping a tear. ‘It’s not that. I like and respect Strongbow. I know he is a good man.’
‘What is it then?’
She listened, more with her eyes than her ears, as I told her of my sorrow. A sorrow that deepened in equal measure to the growth of my affection for Myler. But it was not that.
‘If not that, then…what is it, Aoife?’
‘Can’t you see! Strongbow is nearly three times my age,’ I complained. ‘He’s old. There’s no joy in him. I know he’s a good man, but . . .’ I hesitated. ‘I can’t imagine, you know . . .’ I looked to Alice pleadingly. ‘You know . . .’ After a long pause and no hint of understanding from Alice, I went on: ‘Taking to the bed with him!’
Alice threw her head back and roared with laughter. ‘Believe me, girl, there’s a lot worse. I should know,’ she said. Then, becoming serious again, she settled my ruffled skirts in a motherly way and said, ‘Aoife, darling, you must never forget who you are. Others certainly won’t. That royal blood that flows through your veins also determines the flow of your life. Even your marriage.’ She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
I felt no comfort from her words. She saw the sad despair etched into my face. Was I condemned to a loveless life, devoid of the passion which burned in my every nerve and sinew? The goddess of life, yearning in my loins. She took my hands again and held my gaze intently.
‘Aoife, listen. It’s not the end. There is a way for love. God knows we all need love in our lives. When we are young, we need the passion that nourishes the sapling to blossom into the women we can become.’ At this, Alice looked distantly into the guttering candle flame beside us, lost in some memory. A glow came to her thin, handsome face. She was an attractive full-bosomed woman with a fine well-proportioned figure. Closer to Strongbow’s age, she turned many a man’s head today and must have been some beauty in the prime of her youth. She smiled, as if chasing some memory, like a naughty child, back to her past, where it now belonged.
Returning to me again, she sighed and told me to drink some wine.
‘You see, Aoife, I sometimes think love is like wine. You need to have tasted it to know its pleasures. Without it, we die a little. We grow like the tree that bears no flower or fruit. A grey, colourless pallor. Love can grow deeper roots in later life, but the sapling needs the water of passion, the girl needs the wine of love.’
Strongbow was no fool, she told me. He was a man who noticed things. She doubted that he wasn’t already aware of my affection for Myler. After all, I was a real beauty and was bound to attract the attentions of men. I was blessed in that regard, and she told me to be thankful for it.
As for Myler, he was a dashing young man who caught the eye of all the girls. ‘And quite a few of the women too,’ she added, laughing wickedly. ‘I can’t say I haven’t noticed myself.’ She tittered. ‘Sadly, he seems to reserve his affections for you, and you only, young lady. I can think of worse fates, girl.’
She rose and, taking the jug, tapped the large oak cask to release a stream of red heaven to fill us each another cup. ‘Aoife, remember that Strongbow himself, for reasons of his position, must also commit to this marriage. Don’t you think he has and has had other affections?’ she asked. I didn’t respond. I was sure he did, but he was very discreet about these liaisons; I appreciated that.
Alice looked at me knowingly. ‘Exactly! You can be very sure he does. And just like him, you should be very discreet with your arrangements.’ I searched her face to make sure I understood what she was suggesting. Was she telling me that I could fulfil my yearnings for Myler but discreetly, avoiding any embarrassment for Strongbow?
‘Yes,’ she nodded, quite animated now. ‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. It’s the way of things. Passions come and go. Particularly when we are young. Strongbow was also young once, don’t forget.’
Alice relaxed. Sensing my understanding, she spoke more quietly now. ‘Protect and respect each other with your discretion. That’s what he expects of you, girl.’ She finished and sat back and took a slow pull of the wine. She savoured it on her pallet and sighed deeply. ‘You can forgive a man a lot if he brings you wine like this nectar of the gods of an evening.’
We both laughed, and it was as if a veil on an unfamiliar world had been lifted to give me a glimpse of understanding. I felt relief. I realised that just as these Normans had a lot to learn about Ireland, that applied in equal measure as to what we had yet to understand about them and their world.
The last of the day’s light glowed red in the early summer warmth as I made my way down past the deserted kitchens to join Alice. The weak light from my lantern bounced against the walls and flickered into the dark alcoves brimming with stores. The shadows danced on the ceiling before me and seemed to chase menacingly behind, making me hurry down the broad flagstones, careful not to lose my footing on the uneven edges in the dim light.
The castle was still, with an end-of-day ease as man and beast rested from the strains of the day. The harvest was close and, gods willing, the weather would hold to allow good reaping. We needed a dry crop for the clean threshing and good storage of the hay. The grain stores had been cleaned, and the floors readied for the threshing. There was a constant hammering clamour from the forge as the blacksmiths replaced and repaired the iron-rimmed wheels on the rickety carts that would carry the earth’s bounty from the harvest meadows spread far and wide across the castle estates. Finding Alice alone on these evenings, we would talk of our families, lives and hopes into the dusky early hours. She took time to explain the ways of the Normans, and I gradually became more comfortable in their world as my understanding of them grew.
Rounding the last corner in the ink-dark blackness, I raised my lantern to throw the dim light on the door to Alice’s retreat. Something was different. I almost stumbled on the outstretched legs of a man sitting slumped against the wall, hidden in the shadow cast from the lantern. Lurching forward, I kicked a tankard of ale, sending it bouncing noisily across the stone floor, spilling the dark liquid widely. A curse and another large man rose heavily from a small stool placed in front of Alice’s door. He staggered, drunkenly shielding his eyes and tipping the ale cup he held onto his breaches.
‘Who goes there!’ he slurred, swinging blindly at me with a short club he carried. ‘Get lost, you’ve no business here.’ He fell back against the door he was evidently meant to bar.
Recognising him as one of Sir Hervey’s men, I heard the muffled sounds of tableware crashing to the floor behind the heavy oak door. Something thrown, smashing against the door, shattering across the floor inside. Then Alice cursing and screaming.
Before he could react, I threw the lantern into the face of the man barring the door. The oil spilled from the sump, splashing into his beard and across his tunic, and ignited. Panicked, he fled unsteadily down the corridor towards a water butt, beating widely at the flames dancing around him. A rancid smell filled the corridor. Just as well, I thought momentarily, he was too heavy for me to shift, sober or drunk.
Forcing the heavy cast-iron latch, I slammed my weight against the door and burst into the room. The door crashed against the wall and the sound boomed around the high stone-vaulted ceiling.
Rushing forward without breaking stride for, unarmed, surprise was my only weapon now, I saw Alice pinned by the arms to a long bench by Dwain, Sir Hervey’s man, with her skirts around her hips. She spat, screaming viciously at Sir Hervey, kicking wildly when he approached..
I hesitated a heartbeat, not believing my eyes. Sir Hervey turned and looked at me with some surprise, then snorted dismissively. ‘You again?’ Then he struck Alice hard across the face, the force slamming her head against the bench with a loud, chilling crack. She was stunned by the blow. He sneered at me briefly. ‘Hold her,’ he snapped to his man.
Screaming, I threw myself at him. He was a light weasel of a man but tall, and it was more the shock than the force of my weight that caused him to stumble and fall heavily to the floor.
In the confusion, Dwain released Alice, who gradually recovered her senses. Seeing me standing over Sir Hervey, she quickly grasped what was happening and, turning swiftly, lunged at Dwain. Her small butchering knife was quickly magicked from her skirts and pressed hard against his gullet. The slightest effort from her experienced hand at butchery would empty his veins.
‘You bastard,’ she seethed, blood trickling from her lip where Sir Hervey had struck her.
Somewhat dazed but recovering himself, Sir Hervey coldly turned on me. ‘Bitch,’ he snarled, and, picking up a heavy iron poker from the fire, he calmly rose to face me. I froze at the maddened hatred in his eyes, defenceless.
‘If you touch her, I’ll kill him,’ Alice warned, pressing the blade deeper into Dwain’s throat. Dwain whimpered.
‘Do as you wish with him,’ Sir Hervey said without even looking at her, and then he came at me, raising the iron.
Expecting the blow, I crouched, covering my head with my arms, trying to protect myself as best I could, but the blow never came. A sudden long silence and his heavy breathing. But nothing.
