Читать книгу Daughter of the Forest - Juliet Marillier - Страница 9

The lady Oonagh had told me my trips to the village were to stop; it was unsuitable, she said, for the lord Colum’s daughter to be out and about the neighbourhood like some tinker’s child, getting her feet muddy and mixing with all sorts of riff raff. I must put all that nonsense aside, and start learning to be a lady. Music – now that was appropriate. I spent a morning performing to her on the flute, and, reluctantly, the harp, for she ordered our little instrument brought down to the hall. Fortunately, my father was occupied elsewhere that day. It quickly became plain to her that I had little more to learn. Sewing, then. She asked to see my handiwork, and I was obliged to confess that I had none. Oh, I could mend, and hem a gown or a tunic. But fine work had never been called for in this house of men. Oonagh showed me a veil of thinnest lawn, sprinkled with a myriad tiny birds and flowers. It was indeed beautiful; draped over her shining hair, it gave her the look of a queen. She would show me the techniques I needed for such work. It would take a great deal of time and application, so no more trips to visit the sick with a basket of lotions and draughts. Let someone else do it. ‘No one else has the skills,’ I said without thinking. It was the simple truth. Oonagh’s eyes narrowed and her fine, arched brows tightened with displeasure.

‘Unfortunate,’ she said. ‘Then these people will do whatever they did before you came along, my dear. Be here with your needles and thread straight after breakfast tomorrow. We have a great deal of lost ground to make up.’

I lasted no more than a few days. My fingers, so deft at bandaging and mixing and measuring, were clumsy and awkward with needle and fine silk. Under her scrutiny I broke the thread, and dropped the needle, and stained the delicate fabric with blood from my pricked finger. I longed for one of my brothers to interrupt and rescue me, but they did not. Planning was under way for another journey beyond our borders, and they were consulting maps, or exercising horses, or endlessly polishing and sharpening weapons.

Even my father was preoccupied in the lady Oonagh’s presence and she did not like it. Something was troubling him. But I continued to ply my needle, and she watched me. Sometimes she asked questions, and sometimes she sat there in silence, which was worse, for I could feel her mind reaching out towards mine, as if she would know my most secret thoughts. I tried to shield myself from her, the same way Finbar had learned to veil his mind from me. But she was very strong, and if she could not read me direct, she was clever with words, and knew how to trap.

‘Your father is busy these days,’ she said pleasantly enough one morning, watching me as I stitched laboriously at a long stem in shades of green. ‘Planning to ride out again soon, he tells me. I had hoped he would remain longer at home, but men become restless.’ She gave a little laugh, shrugging narrow shoulders in her elegant blue gown. ‘Wives get used to it eventually, I suppose.’

I hated her efforts to be chatty even more than her hostility. ‘It’s what they do,’ I said, frowning at my needle.

‘Still, it is barely a season since the last campaign,’ said Oonagh, wandering over to the narrow window that overlooked the yard, where Liam and Diarmid were passing and passing again on horseback, practising slipping sideways out of the saddle and back up again with sword in hand, a nasty trick they used occasionally in close combat, if what they told me was to be believed. It had a surprising effect on your enemy, they said. ‘One wonders what calls them away again so soon. More intruders on our borders maybe?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ I said, unpicking a couple of stitches.

‘Or perhaps they are searching for escaped prisoners,’ she said lightly. ‘My lord informs me he intends to dismiss his master of arms, since it seems there has been some neglect of duties here. Strange. They put so much energy into it all. And yet captives go mysteriously missing in the night. One wonders how such an error could occur.’

I was suddenly chilled to the bone. She knew. She had as much as said it. I remained silent as she turned back towards me, smiling.

‘Poor Sorcha, I’m boring you, child. Of what interest could all this be to a little girl, after all? Blood feuds and missing hostages? You have indeed had a strange childhood, growing up in such a household. It’s as well I am here now to tend to your education. Now, show me what you have done. Oh dear, this is quite crooked. I’m afraid it must be unpicked yet again.’

Finally I was free to go and I sought out Finbar; for surely Father could not really be intending to get rid of Donal, who had been a part of his garrison for longer than I could remember, who had overseen every part of my brothers’ training since they were small, whose grim features and sturdy frame were as much a part of our household as the stone walls themselves. But Finbar was not to be found; instead I was waylaid by a girl from the cottages, come to seek help for her grandmother, whose fever would not go down. How could I tell her I was forbidden to help? These people relied on me. So I fetched my basket, threw on an old cloak and my sturdy boots, and set off.

Once they saw me in the settlement, others came to seek my help. After tending to the woman with the fever I moved on to old Tom’s, to reassure him over a boil that had erupted in a very awkward spot. I treated him, and he heaped thanks upon me, and praised my brother Conor, who had given his grandsons work in the stables, and so, said Tom, got the lads out of his daughter’s hair and taught them something useful at the same time. Then I was called to a tiny, sickly babe. I left the anxious young mother some herbs to make a tea which would help her milk, and promised to bring fresh vegetables from my garden.

By the time I was finished it was mid afternoon, and I made my way home as quickly as I could. It was a long time since breakfast, and I could almost taste Janis’ oatcakes on the crisp winter air. A fine mist was starting to settle around the hawthorn bushes as I headed up the path towards the kitchen garden. I was deep in my own thoughts, and nearly walked into Father and Donal as I turned a corner of the hedge. They were absorbed in conversation and did not see me. I stopped dead in my tracks, then faded back into the concealment of the hedge for the quiet intensity of Donal’s voice told me this was a deeply private interchange.

‘… not my intention to challenge your decision, my lord. But at least hear me out before I leave.’ Donal’s voice was under the same tight control he exercised over his mounts, and his sword, and his men at arms.

‘What can you have to say to me?’ returned Father coldly. ‘My decision is made. What more is there?’

They had stopped right in front of me, and I could not move without being detected. Father had his back to me. Donal stood erect as ever, but the deep grooves around his mouth and nose betrayed his emotion. ‘I accept full responsibility for what happened. There is no excuse for such an error. My men have been duly disciplined, and I have received your chastisement. The past cannot be undone. But this degree of punishment is unwarranted, my lord Colum.’

‘A prisoner escaped. Not the first. An important prisoner, this time. How can I sanction such an error? I leave here with the man safe in custody, not just securely guarded but unconscious, scarce able to walk, let alone make his way out of here. The next day I receive a message to say the captive is nowhere to be found. Your men were drugged. There must have been help from inside. As a result of your negligence our position has been much weakened. Who knows what advantage such a hostage might have brought us? I cannot afford another such mistake. If you cannot maintain an adequate level of control amongst your men there is no place for you here. You should count yourself lucky that I allowed you to remain in my service while the matter was investigated. I should have dismissed you the day I returned home.’

‘Father.’ I had not realised until he spoke that Liam was there, out of my view back along the path. His boots crunched on the stones. ‘Hear Donal out, please. Has he not been our guide and tutor these fourteen years and more? All our skills we owe to him and his patience. Surely dismissal is too harsh a penalty for one breach?’

‘This is my decision, not yours,’ snapped Father. ‘You are over young yet to meddle in such affairs. Perhaps you do not appreciate the importance of this particular breach. Because of this piece of ineptitude, and the delay in informing me of what had happened, our British captive may even now be back home spreading his knowledge of our troops, our terrain and our positions amongst his fellows. His group was no ordinary raiding party. We cannot afford to expose ourselves thus again.’

‘He was near death, that night,’ said Donal. ‘He could not have travelled far. Besides, we had already established he had nothing to tell. I believe you misjudge his importance.’

‘I misjudge? I?’ Father’s voice rose. ‘You are hardly in a position to question my judgement.’

‘Maybe not,’ said Donal, ‘but there is a question of loyalty. I have served you well, as your son says, these fourteen years. Since your lady’s day, when this household was a place of joy. I have turned your sons into fine young warriors well fit to battle beside you for your lost Islands; well trained in all the arts of war, to defend your lands and bring honour to your name. I have taken the time for them which you could not spare. I have seen your daughter grow up in the image of her mother, as sweet and fey a girl as ever these forests gave birth to. I have drilled your men in body and spirit, and their loyalty to you is beyond question. But now – by the lady, Colum, I must speak out, since it seems there is nothing further to lose by honesty!’

‘I will not hear this,’ said Father grimly, and his cloak swung out as he turned on his heel.

‘You will, Father.’ Liam laid his hands on Father’s shoulders, halting him, and I saw Father’s clenched fist rise as if to strike him, and then come down again slowly.

‘You find it hard to look at me, and to listen to my words.’ Donal spoke with some difficulty. ‘Believe me, it is even harder for me to speak to you thus, and I do so only because I must leave this place which has become my home. My lord, I never asked for much, beyond my keep and the chance to do a good job. But I beg you now to listen.’