Swordland

by Edward Ruadh Butler

  Hervey’s lip curled into a smile. ‘What type of devil would kill a king? It could destabilise the whole kingdom, even bring about a civil war. It would leave it open to conquest.’

  ‘I’m glad that you think so,’ the King of Laighin smiled. ‘Tell your men to enjoy it and to say hello to Diarmait Ua Mael Sechlainn from me before he dies. Tell him that all his line will join him soon in hell.’

  Epilogue

  Forthairt – July 1170

  A ship out at sea pitched and splashed through the grey, rolling waves. It was a Norman-built warship, that much FitzStephen could make out from his viewpoint on the cursed Carn tSóir Point, and it was sailing south to avoid the dangerous passage just as had FitzStephen when he invaded Ireland a year before. Wind lashed the warriors who watched the ship’s progress high up on the point, as it did the untold numbers of soldiers hidden beneath the dark sail out to sea. On the mast was a long-tailed banner, flicking evilly in the wind and showing the crimson and gold of the Clare family. The top of the flag was adorned with the distinctive blue band indicating a cadet branch of the family.

  ‘Strongbow,’ FitzStephen hissed. Annoyance flickered in his mind as he watched the ship smash through another bank of water. Red-headed Aoife appeared in his mind’s eye and he again wondered if he had made a mistake by not marrying the beautiful princess. The arrival of Strongbow made it likely that the opportunity had evaporated. He sighed as he let the image of Aoife fade.

  Was he nervous or excited by the coming of more of his warlike people? The Normans had been relatively weak but now they were a force that no-one could contain. FitzStephen knew that before the year was out, Ireland would again be in flames. It was the same in every land where the Normans rode.

  ‘Are you sure it is Strongbow?’ Maurice FitzGerald asked his brother. ‘Surely he would have more ships to claim his bride and the throne.’

  His half-brother nodded. ‘It may just be his vanguard, a landing party to prepare the way for more to come.’ What did it matter how many warriors Strongbow brought to Laighin, he thought. FitzStephen already had his prize and no mere baron from the English borders would take it from him. FitzStephen may have been considered nothing more than a troublemaker and brigand in Henry’s kingdom but here on the edge of the world he was so much more. He was a lord of battles and it was the Norman nobility that were nothing. He smiled and turned to his elder brother. ‘Diarmait doesn’t know what he has invited to Laighin,’ he told his brother. ‘Strongbow will bring a hundred knights the equal of Robert FitzStephen.’

  Maurice returned his grin but doubted his companion’s self-effacing words. He had never met a man of FitzStephen’s qualities and doubted that Strongbow would be able to rustle up a single man to equal him, never mind a hundred. He watched as his half-brother slung his shield over his shoulder and leapt onto his horse in a single bound.

  ‘We will follow the coast and see where they land. Then we will pick up the River Siúire through Oirmumhain towards the Uí Briain kingdom,’ FitzStephen fumbled over the awkward Gaelic words. ‘From there we can work our way to Hlymrik.’

  ‘Take care of yourself, brother.’ Maurice held out his hand to FitzStephen. ‘St Maurice will protect you.’

  ‘He has done so this far. Keep Waesfjord safe,’ FitzStephen grinned as his troops fanned out westwards.

  Maurice FitzGerald let go of his hand and watched the younger man trot his horse away. His lance was propped against his esquire’s shoulder and its blue and white pennant flapped violently in the wind which surged inland. His troopers fell in behind their lord and captain.

  Few men, if any, could have done what his incredible younger brother had achieved, Maurice thought as he watched him leave for yet another battle. From a pitiful prisoner to the power behind the throne of Laighin in just a matter of months – Strongbow could bring a thousand knights to Laighin but none would ever rival Sir Robert FitzStephen, Warlord of Waesfjord, or the deeds which he had performed.

  Maurice snorted back a laugh. Not that the newcomers would not try, he thought as he turned to look out to sea. The men in the rolling ship were Normans after all and every one of that race were champions. And in Ireland they had found a new land to conquer. Each would search for his own piece of swordland.

  Historical Note

  The invasion of Ireland was not a conquest like that made by the Normans after their victory in 1066. Unlike England, Ireland was not a nation state but a motley group of petty kingdoms and chiefdoms, of warring neighbours and brittle alliances. Ireland could not be conquered by killing a single king in battle or by taking a major city. The Norman adventurers would go on to inflict defeat after defeat on the Irish over the next century and a half without ever getting close to conquering the Emerald Isle. The ability of the natives to absorb these defeats was just one reason why these first invaders – who became known as the Old English – would eventually become absorbed into the fabric and culture of Ireland. By Tudor times they would be described as ‘more Irish than the Irish themselves’.

  The Normans from the March of Wales were far from unknown to the people of Ireland. Trade across the Irish Sea was a profitable one for both parties, and there is no doubt that news, fashion, and tastes would have crossed the waves as easily as did people and their wares. That it took a century for the Normans to land an army in Ireland is perhaps most surprising, and demonstrates just how successful the rebellious Anglo-Saxons, Danes, Scots, and Welsh were at keeping the newcomers busy! When they finally did arrive, in the company of Diarmait Mac Murchada, the first invaders were incredibly successful in a very short period of time, the tactics picked up in Wales transferring perfectly to the Irish theatre. The invasion was famously chronicled by Gerald de Barri, more famously known as Giraldus Cambrensis. He visited his siblings, Robert and Philip de Barri (later Barry), in 1185 during their invasion of eastern Munster and his account forms the basis for Swordland, though anyone interested in the period would do well to readThe Norman Invasion of Ireland by Richard Roche, Diarmait, King of Leinster by Nicholas Furlong, and Strongbow: The Norman Invasion of Ireland by Conor Kostick for a superb overview.

  In Swordland I have deviated from the historical accounts at several points, not least on Robert FitzStephen’s age which in real life was probably ten or fifteen years greater than the character’s. As described here, he was Constable of Aberteifi (today’s Cardigan) and son of Princess Nest of Deheubarth. Einion ab Anarawd was actually murdered as he slept, in 1163, by his servant Walter ap Llywarch, and on the orders of the Earl of Hertford rather than by FitzStephen’s hand – though as the Earl’s chief man in the region it is possible that the real-life FitzStephen may have been involved in some capacity. Rhys of Deheubarth did besiege Aberteifi in 1164, though it was chiefly due to the treachery of the clerk Rhygewarch that the castle fell. Rhys actually permitted the inhabitants of the town to flee with ‘half their possessions’ before he destroyed the castle and imprisoned Robert FitzStephen.

  The Lord Rhys is one of the great men of Welsh history though his triumphs were largely undone by the squabbles of his four sons following his death in 1197. Rhys was younger than FitzStephen and had no son called Tewdwr. The Irish annals talk of a son of the King of the Britons who was killed at Cill Osnadh, but his identity is unknown. It seems unlikely that this unnamed warrior was Rhys’ son, but it is possible that he was the offspring of one of Rhys’ elder brothers or a scion of the Gwynedd or Powys dynasties. Unlike the description in Swordland, Cill Osnadh was actually a major engagement when the old alliance of Tigernán Ua Ruairc, Ruaidhrí Ua Conchobair, Diarmait Ua Mael Sechlainn, and Hasculv Mac Torcaill again joined forces and invaded Diarmait’s territory, forcing him into an embarrassing submission. They also extracted a huge honour price from Diarmait in revenge for his abduction of Tigernán’s wife fifteen years before. This battle took place in 1167, as did FitzStephen’s release from Rhys’ custody, though it was almost two years before our protagonist ventured across the sea to Irela
nd.

  Hervey de Montmorency was not the brother of the powerful French nobleman, Bouchard, but was almost certainly a distant cousin, whose family came to England around 1066. Similarly, Máelmáedoc Ua Riagain’s role has been changed somewhat. He was Diarmait’s secretary and translator not, as portrayed in Swordland, his chief advisor. That role would likely have been taken up by a number of Diarmait’s close relatives or even the hereditary brehons from the O’Doran family.

  The historical FitzStephen did fight a battle at Duncormick in southern County Wexford, though perhaps not against the Ostmen, and then crossed the hills of Forth to storm the walls of Wexford which he thereafter claimed as his own. It is not known whether this was with feudal obligations to Diarmait, or by right of the sword, though he did build a castle at Ferrycarrig. The site is now part of the Irish National Heritage Park, which is a wonderful place to visit and experience nine millennia of Irish history – including the history of the Norman invasion.

  FitzStephen’s attack on the Osraighe was in reality a succession of encounters over a number of weeks, but the most vivid occurred near Freshford and was followed by a massacre. This forms the basis for the imagined fight near Gowran in Swordland. I must admit that Maurice de Prendergast was far from the duplicitous character as portrayed in this book. History records him as one of the most noble and honourable men in the story of the conquest.

  Towards the end of 1169, Ruaidhrí Ua Conchobair (who was actually of a similar age to Diarmait Mac Murchada) did respond to Diarmait’s reappearance by leading a large army to take him on in his home territory. The size of Ruaidhrí’s army at Dubh-Tir will never be known, but estimates range from 10,000 men to an almost impossible 60,000. Whatever the size of the force that faced them, Robert FitzStephen did lead his men into the mountain fastness and there constructed defences and dug trenches to confuse and disrupt the approaching horde. Ruaidhrí did indeed make offers to both FitzStephen and Diarmait Mac Murchada to betray the other, but both stayed true. The sources say that Ruaidhrí dared not attack the Norman position in Dubh-Tir except to ‘scour the forests and pursue the rebels’. I have used this as a pretext to include the fictitious battle at the end of the book. The reality is that Ruaidhrí, seeing no way to defeat Diarmait and his mercenaries, sent a number of churchmen to negotiate a peace and thereafter withdrew to Connacht. History seems to have forgiven Ruaidhrí Ua Conchobair for wasting this opportunity to wipe out the small number of invaders. Had he done so, the later incursions by Strongbow and King Henry II may have been delayed or even prevented and who knows, Ireland may even have developed to a stage where invasion from Britain was unforeseeable. How different would world history be if that had occurred?

  Whatever his reasons, Ruaidhrí Ua Conchobair blinked first, and Robert FitzStephen survived to return to his newly conquered lands. More importantly, however, was the effect on Diarmait Mac Murchada who, back on the throne of Laighin (Leinster), set his sights upon nothing less than the High Kingship of Ireland. Within a few months he had invited more Normans from Wales to help him achieve his goal. Primary amongst this second wave of invaders was one man whose name is synonymous with the Norman invasion of Ireland: Strongbow. Unlike Robert FitzStephen, Strongbow did not simply wish for an estate and great wealth. He desired a throne and in Ireland, with his Norman barons alongside him, he believed that he could win one.

  I would like to acknowledge a number of people whose kind support and direction throughout the process of writing Swordland was invaluable: to my agent, David Riding at MBA, and to my editor Greg Rees and the whole team at Accent Press, my particular thanks for guiding me through the process and bringing the novel to publication. I’d also like to express my appreciation to everyone who read the book through its various stages of development – Ewan Butler, Sandra King, Anthony Quinn, and the late Wallace Clark – and gave their feedback and advice. My thanks also go to my parents, Emma, my family and friends, and my many fellow online historical fiction fanatics for their constant encouragement and belief and without whom this novel would not have been possible.

  Edward Ruadh Butler

  December 2014

  Historical Fiction

  from Accent Press

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  Published by Accent Press Ltd – 2015

  ISBN: 9781783752720

  Copyright © Edward Ruadh Butler 2015

  The right of Edward Ruadh Butler to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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