The hall is at least three stories high, with many shields and swords hanging on the walls from different ages. The coat of arms has a stag as the main and sole figure, with a hand reaching out of the helmet, grasping a green lizard. I have never seen these symbols before in heraldry. The lizard is odd.
The king chooses his seat at the head of the table and beckons for me to take a seat on his right. I sit in the chair and scoot up to the trestle table covered in white linen.
“I hope you like mead,” he says as he pours from a pitcher, filling my pewter mug to the brim. “This is one of our older varieties.”
I take a sip from the mug, noticing its smoothness, sweet with honey and hints of oak and vanilla. It tastes as good, if not better, than the peach wine I had. “I don’t think I have ever tasted anything so fine.”
“It is my favorite. I only bring it out on special occasions.”
I drink a bit more. “It’s excellent. What’s the special occasion?”
“Your arrival, of course,” he says. “It’s a sign of good things to come.” Then he sits back, gazing into the fireplace. “I have been in this castle for most of my life. It has been a wonder to live here, surrounded by the lake. I have had good fortune and have no complaints other than my health.”
“This is beautiful country,” I say, gazing around the room. My gaze drifts back to the coat of arms.
“I see you have taken an interest in my shield.”
“What’s the meaning of the lizard?” I ask.
“The lizard represents domination over our enemies or wisdom. I prefer the latter.”
“Did you have any say in the symbols?”
“You would think I would have, being king, but I kept the symbols from my forefathers. I strive to live up to their meaning. Especially the stag, which represents peace and harmony.”
“That is good to live up to. I find the lake very peaceful.”
“I used to swim across the lake in my younger years. It kept me young for a long time, but age finally crept up on me. I don’t want to leave a legacy of feuding without making reparations.”
“I wasn’t aware of any battles between our families.”
“It was before your time. We took back some of our land after the Battle of Callan, a hundred years ago. Before the Norman invasion, my family ruled over all of this land to the east coast, though we had the Vikings to contend with.” He refers to the Vikings as an afterthought.
“But I see so much red hair and blue eyes in these parts.”
“Yes. We lived with the Vikings, and they adopted our ways. It took several hundred years, and now there are a lot of their traits in our people. We blended with them. Alexander the Great did the same, encouraging his soldiers to marry women in conquered territories. It’s inevitable.”
I wish I had studied Irish history before leaping into this period. I have always thought Ireland was Irish, but I knew there was some conflict going on in Northern Ireland that I didn’t understand.
“Please forgive me, sir. How did you lose your land?”
The king’s eyes widen, looking at me in disbelief. Then, a smile appears on his lips. “You are just like my son.” He laughs out loud. “I think I am going to like you.”
I take another swallow, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks, not sure if it was the alcohol or the embarrassment of not knowing.
“Let me explain,” he says. “When the Normans came from England and Wales a few hundred years ago, they conquered us and claimed our island as their own, setting up rulers from England. It’s really our own fault.”
“Why is that?” I ask.
He looks at me with distant eyes and fills my mug. “Have another drink. The story is a long and sad one.”
I swallow more of the mead and prepare to listen.
“The Irish kings had been fighting among themselves for decades. It didn’t help that the Leinster king kidnapped the wife of another king, who was a close ally to the High King. The High King felt threatened and eventually deposed the King of Leinster, who fled to England after losing his kingdom.”
“He kidnapped another king’s wife?” I ask.
“Some say that he rescued her, but regardless, it gave the other kings an excuse to fight.”
“So, how did this result in the Normans coming to Ireland?” I ask.
“Well, Dermot MacMurrough, the ousted king, didn’t sit idle. He sought help from King Henry of England, who allowed him to recruit soldiers and mercenaries. Strongbow offered to lead the invasion with the promise of his daughter and the kingship of Leinster upon his death. MacMurrough regained his kingdom and died soon afterwards, turning over the King of Leinster to Strongbow.”
“And nothing could be done about it?” I ask, bewildered about how Ireland fell into English hands.
“We tried, but King Henry sent another invasion into Ireland to secure the land and subjects. The conquered land was divided and given away to those who had helped. That is how your family came into your land and title.”
I just realize that my family, or rather the family that I had leapt into, is just as much at fault for taking Ireland away from the Irish. I lower my head in thought and misery. How can this be? My family were traitors to Ireland. I feel my eyes beginning to water and look away, wiping a tear from my eye.
I take another sip of mead, hoping to numb my feelings. Then I look back at Donal. “I am sorry.”
“This is not your fault, or even your family’s fault. This all happened two hundred years ago, well before any of us were born. But it helps to explain Ireland’s current situation. We were fighting before the Normans came, and we continue to fight. It is in our nature.”
“Is anything being done to reunite Ireland under Irish rule?” I ask.
“About a hundred years after the Normans came, we fought and won back some of our land, including this castle.”
“Are we still at war?”
“Not really. We have learned to live next to each other, but unlike the Vikings, who joined with us, some Normans have been resistant. This land needs healing, and we need to stop fighting.”
“I think I can understand. But why now?”
“Recently, the Kilkenny Parliament approved statutes further separating the Irish. In the past, England had discouraged integration with the Irish, but these papers make it more certain that we will never be friends.”
“I haven’t heard of these statutes. How does it affect our relations?”
“The English king is punishing the Normans who associate with the Irish. The statutes do not allow Normans to speak Irish nor wear Irish clothes. It also forbids marriage between Normans and the Irish. Intermarriage is necessary to heal this land. These statutes alienate the Irish, treating us as a lesser people.”
“That is a problem. I have always found the Irish to be wonderful people.” Not realizing that I was speaking of another time. It dawns on me that he spoke English with little hint of an Irish accent. “If you don’t mind my asking, how is your English so good?”
“No mind,” he says. “I studied with the friars at the Abbey when I was a child and learned Latin and English. I eventually married an English lady from Kildare, Joanna Fitzgerald. She was from Norman royalty and could only speak English.”
“Where is she now?” I ask.
“We laid her to rest about four years ago. God rest her soul.” He makes the sign of the cross with his right hand.
We talk for some time, and a servant brings out a plate of clams and bread.
I watch the king scoop out the clam meat and sprinkle it with a pinch of salt. He then pops the whole thing in his mouth and chews before swallowing.
I decide to try one and eat it in the same manner. I wasn’t fond of the flavor, so I hurriedly take another swallow of mead to wash it down.
“This is an appetizer,” he says. “I hear they are preparing a goose freshly caught today.”
“I saw an archer shoot one down when we were riding up.”
“Oh,” he says. “Then this is a lucky day. I am so glad you came here.” His eyes go to the entry door. “I want you to meet my daughter, Amy.”