The Hart and the Harp

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The Hart and the Harp Page 12

by Sorcha MacMurrough


  Had he perhaps set out to punish Shive for the sins of her father? Was he just a rutting stag who couldn’t help himself when a beautiful woman came into his grasp, and he had used Shive, only to cast her aside?

  Cian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out the answer to these burning questions. But a desire to protect Shive made him determined to discover the causes for Tiernan’s odd behavior as soon as he could.

  “Shive, if it isn’t too personal, how did it, er, happen? I mean, did he approach you, er...”

  “No, it was all my fault. He’s been sleeping in the same bed with me day and night since I’ve been ill. I’ve gradually become, well, used to him, less shy, you know. I thought he was asleep last night, and I wanted to satisfy my curiosity about what he, um, well, felt like,” Shive confessed, and then began to giggle. “The rest just happened. But I fear he may have thought me too bold, or I might have hurt him.”

  “Nay, we can tolerate a fair amount of handling. I suppose if you had seen him in the flesh, touching was the next logical step.” Cian laughed, until Shive nudged him with her elbow.

  “Tiernan’s looking at us again,” she scolded.

  “Sorry. Listen Shive, I can see you're worried, but I’m sure you haven’t done anything wrong. Just give him time. One day and night at a time, eh?” Cian advised with a grin.

  What I wouldn’t give to be in Tiernan’s shoes, he thought wistfully as he gazed at Shive’s lovely face and figure.

  Shive smiled in relief. “You’re right, of course. I’ll try to be patient, and thank you for listening to me. I don’t normally pour out something so intimate to anyone, but well, I couldn’t very well tell my cousins, now could I? You seem to be his favorite brother, and a man of the world. I knew you would understand.”

  “I am his favorite brother, but then Tiernan is my favorite one as well. I’m glad you came to me with your problem I’d do anything to see Tiernan happy, truly. If you have any other doubts or problems, please come to me first,” he said sincerely.

  “We can’t have you bravely going off to fight your own battles, Shive. But one other final piece of advice is that if you're really worried, go to Tiernan himself. I know he can be very dark and forbidding-looking, especially with those murky and mysterious eyes of his, but he’s always been fair and just to everyone who knows him. Also, remember that reason always works far better than emotional outbursts with him.”

  Shive nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you, Cian. I’ll try to remember all you’ve said.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Cian rose then and moved down to the end of the table to talk to some of the other men, in order to avoid the piercing stares Tiernan kept casting in his direction whenever he saw him talking to Shive.

  My God, he’s jealous of her already, Cian thought with a sigh. Well, who could blame him? She was lovely in every way, though certainly no temptation to him as his favorite brother’s wife.

  Moreover, Cian was engaged to be married to his cousin Ailbhe. The nuptials were to take place some time in the near future once their settlements were agreed upon. Cian reflected on how different his own bride was to Shive. Then he realized that though his love was as bold as brass when she wanted to be, Ailbhe had a kind heart and a level head. She was also an experienced woman, being somewhat older than himself, and a widow.

  Cian determined that he would have his fiancee come over to Castlegarren for a few days to keep Shive company as soon as possible. She would also help allay the new young bride’s fears regarding her inadequacies as a wife. As for Cian, he would talk to Tiernan, and see if he couldn’t help the romance along in some way himself.

  One thing was for sure, she was a rare jewel, and if anyone could add value and sparkle to Tiernan's life, it would be Shive.

  But Shive was not the only candidate in the race to tame Tiernan. While Shive was definitely an obstacle to Orla O’Rourke’s success, the older woman, a buxom blonde with sapphire eyes, viewed Shive as only a minor setback. Orla was still stringing along Tiernan’s middle brother Lasaran, filing his head with grandiose schemes about what he and she could achieve once their families were allied, but she always kept her real quarry in her line of sight.

  Orla had tried various tactics to get Tiernan interested in her, but so far, apart from a few hurried kisses and caresses, she had had very little success. Even more important than securing her prey however, was the need to undermine the marriage between Shive and Tiernan as quickly as possible. Every day that the two clans might be brought closer together spelt danger for her own family, and her brother Muireadach’s aspirations to become high king of Ireland himself one day.

  Orla therefore dressed her best at all times, and tried to engage Shive in conversation in the hope that she would find something which she could eventually use against the burgundy-haired beauty.

  But Shive had been warned about the lovely Orla from Ruairi. She was polite but distant to the woman who obviously viewed her as a rival. The topics they did converse on were so neutral, and the talk so scanty, that Orla made the mistake of dismissing Shive as empty-headed and no match for her.

  Orla was determined to bide her time and strike while the iron was hot. She would become Tiernan’s bride before the year was out, come what may. No simpering little upstart without a penny to her name and no feminine allure was going to defeat her, of that Orla O’Rourke was certain.

  Chapter Ten

  Shive may have been poor now after having been disowned by her father, and lacking in expensive clothes, but she was still Tiernan’s wife. Not a woman to do things by halves, she accepted the uneasy silence which had sprung up between them after their night together as a reflection of her own inadequacies. But she vowed to do better, to make Tiernan truly proud of her.

  Her lack of elegant gowns was her primary embarrassment in view of Orla O’Rourke’s extravagant wardrobe, yet in the aggressively male household at Castlegarren, she felt sure she would have rapidly become a laughing stock had she behaved in a spoilt or queenly manner.

  So the morning after her huge spring-clean inside the castle, Shive donned her breeches once more. With her small dagger belt around her waist, she asked Cian for a tour of the rest of the estate. She would have preferred Tiernan’s company, but he had gone out early again to hunt, and so she accepted the younger man’s friendly offer to escort her for a bit of fresh air. Once again, Ernin and Mahon appeared behind her to ask where she was going, and once again, they trailed along in Shive’s wake.

  Cian first took Shive through the outbuildings nearest the main gate, which housed a miller, bakery, blacksmith, clothes shop, and carpentry workshops, as well as the stables. She met many of the people who worked in each establishment, and all were cheerful and welcoming.

  Shive had expected some reserve on their parts towards her as Tiernan’s new bride, but they all seemed genuinely friendly, especially the children, who were curious to meet the lovely lady with shimmering burgundy hair and eyes the color of a summer sunset.

  The baker, a widowed woman named Maeve, was particularly welcoming. In no time at all they were chatting together over a cup of ale like old friends. Shive and Maeve compared notes on bread-making, and Shive offered to lend a hand on the mornings when Maeve baked new loaves.

  “An extra pair of hands would always be welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Maeve smiled, impressed with the master’s lovely young bride.

  Her young son Sean, equally impressed, waved as Shive moved on to the clothes supply shop.

  There she consulted with Peadar the weaver and his wife Aine about the texture and dyes. Cian was astonished at all the knowledge she possessed concerning cloth making. Shive looked over the wools also, and gathered up a rainbow of skeins for a new tapestry she was planning once her most recent one was completed.

  Mahon agreed somewhat reluctantly to take the wools back to Shive’s workshop, but Ernin reassured him the three of them could manage very well on their o
wn without him, and so he disappeared for a short time to carry out his lovely young cousin’s errand.

  As Shive went from shop to shop and stable to stable she surveyed everything critically. She remarked to Cian as they headed into the open fields, “You know, you could be fabulously wealthy with all the plenty you have here, and the cheerful workers who possess all those skills. Cloth for the other local families, bread, cured or salted meats and fish. It wants only a bit of organization, and people willing to trade and pay a fair price. We could sell the work as far afield as Galway if need be. It’s less than a day’s ride away.”

  Cian stared at her in surprise, almost as though she had been able to read his mind. “You know, Shive, I’ve been longing to engage in some special enterprise of my own. I think you may have hit upon the perfect solution. With the adjoining villages working to provide us wood, I believe the furniture the craftsmen produce here would sell well.”

  “I saw you looking at my tables and chairs yesterday, so let me guess, Cian, you’re a carpenter secretly.”

  Cian nodded. “I know I’ve never been much of a warrior. But I’ve never had the nerve to mention my interests to Tiernan.”

  “Well, we’ll keep it a secret between ourselves then, just for now, until you can show him a successful business. I’ll organize a trade. The fresh bread I will help Maeve make, and the cloth from my loom, or even ready-made clothes in partnership with Peadar and Aine, in exchange for timber from the outlying villages for you. We can go talk to the blacksmith now about tools, and then see the sawyers in the outer villages, and strike a fair price.”

  “You would really help me?” Cian asked in astonishment.

  “I do have a small amount of wealth of my own, and the skills in my hands. I'll keep the books for all of us. Of course you can check them any time you like. It would help me pass the time, and I have a feeling this would only be the beginning. I want to help put back what my father took away from your family. I think this would be the best chance I could ever have to do just that,” Shive said, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm.

  “Have you had much experience with trading and keeping the books?” Cian asked, surprised at Shive’s obviously unconventional upbringing.

  “I’ve never struck my own bargain like this before. That’s a man’s job. But I've kept all the books on my uncle’s estate, haven’t I, Ernin? We’ve done quite well over the years. It’s just a case of keeping track of everything coming in and going out, and being as self-sufficient as possible. If you can’t make something yourself, or it doesn’t occur on your land, trade your surplus goods, the things you have too much of, to get some,” Shive explained patiently.

  “Will you show me how? Or better still, look over the estate books?” Cian said eagerly. “Tiernan has very little time or patience for such things, being always away during the campaigning season. More often than not he takes Lasaran with him. I’m just treated as a naive boy, left to vaguely keep an eye on things. But I'm twenty-two, old enough to manage on my own. I suppose I’ll have to learn how to do it soon enough if I'm to wed and run a household.”

  “I’ll gladly teach you. But I wouldn't like to look over papers which Tiernan might consider to be private without my permission.”

  “I’ll ask him. I’m sure he'll say yes.”

  “Even so, I wouldn’t like either of us to start up an enterprise by relying up the wealth from Castlegarren. We have to earn it ourselves,” Shive cautioned him.

  “Fine. We count up what each of has in the world, down to the last penny, and write it down in the books you were talking about. We'll buy the supplies for your things with it, and I’ll go over to the sawyers now, while you get started on the weaving. I’ll even buy the tapestry you are making from you for a fair price.”

  “No, that’s a present for Tiernan. But you can give me a fair price for the linens I gave to the soldiers, or better still, get them to give us a small donation to the cause.”

  “I’ll do just that.” Cian nodded and began to head towards the stables to get his horse for the proposed journey. Ernin followed Shive and Cian pensively, listening closely to every word they said.

  “The first thing I'd better do, if we're going to go through with this, is to go down into the kitchen and look at the larder first, if you don’t mind. I need to get some figures on how much bread we use each day. That’s another rule of business. Know your limits, and don’t make promises you can’t deliver,” Shive instructed.

  “You’re just full of good ideas, aren’t you?” Cian patted her on the shoulder.

  “Of course! I’ve learned to be over the years, haven’t I, Ernin?” Shive grinned over at her cousin, who was still looking thoughtful.

  “I’m beginning to think we burdened your young life too much over the years,” Ernin said quietly.

  “Nonsense, Ernin. I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. I’ll see you later, Cian.” Shive waved as he rode out of the courtyard. She headed back to the kitchen, where she began to make her calculations with Ernin’s help.

  She asked the main housekeeper, a grizzled old woman named Bernin, about how the larder and meals were generally organized at Castlegarren.

  “Well, I don’t know what you mean by accounts,” Bernin muttered. “We cook it, and the men eat it. If the men don’t want it, the servants eat it, or the dogs get it. As for slaughtering and meal times, I suppose they could be a bit more regular. Mostly the men bring home things they’ve killed, and we cook it and eat it.”

  “But what if the men don’t hunt, or can’t hunt because the weather has been poor? And what of vegetables, fruits, cheese, and so on?” Shive asked.

  Bernin shook her head. “Not much of those things around here.”

  “I’ve also noticed little fresh milk for the children on the estate. Some of them look sadly neglected.”

  “The cows run dry, or the calves need the milk after they’ve been born.”

  “Yes, but you can control these things to a certain extent. It can depend on what you feed them, when you introduce the cows to the bull, and when you wean the calves. We will really need to run a tighter household economy, with less waste and more regularity from now on,” Shive pointed out.

  “We can start by making a complete inventory of everything in the house and on the estate. After we see what we have to work with, we will institute regular meals times, and anyone who misses it will have to either have cold food or go without.

  “You women can't be stuck in these kitchens day and night awaiting the men’s slightest whims. We all need to sleep and keep regular hours. We also can’t keep cooking fires going all day, and neglect washing and cleaning as a result.”

  “Tiernan isn’t a bad head of the estate, it’s just that when the campaign season comes...” Bernin began to defend the head of her clan.

  “I know, I know. But now I'm here to run things for him. I’ll fetch pen, ink, and paper. I want to account for every item of food on this entire estate. Will you help me?”

  “Aye, if it will help everyone, I will,” the older women agreed after a moment’s hesitation.

  Just then, Mahon came back from his errand for Shive, and he and Ernin offered their help as well in her new scheme. All four of them set to work measuring, counting, making calculations, and pricing food items.

  Shive soon discovered they had far too much meat , and very little grain or vegetables.

  “What about a run to Galway to trade what we have for surplus? We have so much salt fish, pork and beef we’d choke on it if we tried to eat it all, or it would all be spoilt anyway. We could trade it, and most of the venison, for carrots, parsnips, oats, flour, and so on.”

  “Meat is what keeps the men going,” Bernin argued.

  “But we can supplement our diet by hunting, and by slaughtering the animals when we need to. It seems no one likes to farm on this estate, but that too will have to change.”

  “You know yourself, Miss, cattle raiding and fighting are what counts as important aro
und here. Farming always takes last place,” Bernin grumbled.

  “Surely there must be some men here whom would rather farm than fight?”

  “Aye, there are, my two sons, for instance. But we need men who can teach them, and we need to persuade the master to let them off drilling and campaigning first.”

  Shive moved to another barrel of oats and tallied it. “I’m not so sure about that. They can drill and campaign for part of the time. The rest of the time they can lend a hand on the estate business. There are far too many men sitting about idly here. I know, it was like this once at Skeard too, and it’s still like this at Rathnamagh. The system has caused a great deal of trouble and hardship, since things aren’t really worked out fairly.

  “We can draw up a list of names for men for different tasks. Those who are unsure can try some different ones until they see what suits them. We can also find people to teach them blacksmithing, coopering, farming, and any other skills they can think of. As for the drilling, when do they drill and where?”

 

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