Page 26

The Master of Horse

Deirdre had been drinking the herbal tea that Maiwenn had given her, following Mamie’ s instructions religiously, but it made no difference, since Branoc had not touched her for weeks.

Not since he saw that witch églantine in the waterfall.

He never wants me anymore—he lusts for her!

How can I possibly conceive a child when he wastes his seed on her? I hate her!

As Deirdre stood behind the counter of the blacksmith shop, despairing over the loss of her husband’s affection, a handsome lord entered and greeted her cheerfully.

“Good day, my lady! I need to have my horse reshod. The nails have come loose on her right rear hoof. Is it possible to have her shoe replaced while I wait?”

Branoc, who had been working in the back of the shop, came forward to greet the gentleman. “Good day, sir. Yes, I can repair or replace your horse’s shoe. Bring her on in, and I will take good care of her, rest assured,” he said with a grin, wiping his blackened hands on his apron.

As the customer brought in his horse to be shod, Deirdre could not help but notice the fine quality of his clothing, the cleanliness of his shiny blond hair, and the confident air in which he carried himself. He is a wealthy lord, she mused. He is someone of importance, to be sure.

With a courteous smile, Deirdre attempted to make small talk while the gentleman waited for Branoc to reshoe his horse. “It is such a fine day today, a lovely day for a ride. Are you headed to the castle, my lord?”

The customer replied courteously, a friendly smile spread across his handsome, youthful face. “As a matter of fact, I am coming from the castle, my lady, delivering a dozen horses, including this lovely gray mare.” He gestured to the horse in Branoc’s care.

“I am Liam, the Master of Horse at the castle of King Donnchadh. I am bringing these fine animals from the royal stables to their new owner, just outside this village of Sligeach.” He smiled warmly at Deirdre, who blushed under his gaze.

She preened at his attention, smoothing the folds of her dark blue homespun frock.

“We are most fortunate that you have brought your business here to us today, my lord.” Glancing out the window, Deirdre noticed half a dozen royal guards, as finely dressed as the one before her, tending to several horses just outside the shop.

The Master of Horse responded kindly, “And I am fortunate to have found a blacksmith on my way to deliver these magnificent animals.”

Liam gestured to the horse that Branoc was busily reshoeing. “That lovely dappled gray mare is named Luna. She was the Princess Issylte’s horse, the king’s daughter who died in a tragic accident four years ago. Do you remember?”

Deirdre had a vague recollection of the events surrounding the death of the princess, but she wanted to hear more.

“I do remember hearing something about that. Wasn’t it an accident with her horse?

” She observed the palfrey in her husband’s care.

“Is that the mare she was riding when the accident happened?”

The lord replied sadly. “Indeed, it is. Princess Issylte was riding with her guards along the coast, where the cliffs overlook the sea.” The Master of Horse stared off into the distance as if remembering the past.

“The edge of the cliff was unstable, and her horse reared when it started to crumble.” He glanced down at his feet and whispered, “The princess was thrown into the sea. The king’s guards searched for days, but her body was never found.

” When he raised his eyes to meet hers, Deirdre saw in his forlorn expression how much he had cared for the king’s daughter.

“The princess loved this horse so much that the king refused to sell her. He insisted that I ride her every day below the window of his royal chambers, where he sat watching, as if it kept the memory of his daughter alive.” He gazed up at Deirdre and smiled sadly.

“But now, with King Donnchadh bedridden and ailing, the queen has decided to sell Luna after all. Along with these other fine horses from the royal stables.” He paused for a moment to admire the pretty gray mare, his eyes filled with regret.

“The Morholt—the one they call the Black Knight—needs war horses for his army, not gentle palfreys like Luna.”

Liam gazed at the dappled gray mare, as if lost in reverie. “She was such a lovely girl, the princess. I used to ride with her every day—giving her equestrian lessons, teaching her to care for the horse herself.”

He glanced back at Deirdre. She saw a mask of pain across his handsome face. “We’d gallop across the plains near the castle, and through the forest that she loved so well. They called her the Emerald Princess, you know.”

The Master of Horse was clearly fond of the princess, his eyes sorrowful as he held Deirdre’s gaze.

“I can see her now, her long blond hair whipping through the wind, her cheeks pink from the thrill of the ride…She was so beautiful…. such a tragic loss. She was only fourteen years old.” The Master of Horse glanced down at the floor, scuffling his feet as if he could wipe away the pain.

At that moment, Branoc brought Luna over to the handsome blond lord, handing the reins to the Master of Horse with a hearty grin. “There now, she’s as good as new. The nails had come loose, so I removed the shoe, filed her hoof properly, and replaced it. It’s even better than before.”

Deirdre shot Branoc an eager look, indicating she had something important to tell him.

Branoc said to the Lord Liam, “That’ll be twelve shillings, please, my lord.”

The Master of Horse paid his bill, led Luna out of the blacksmith shop and, with a cheerful goodbye to Branoc and Deirdre, rode off with royal guards to deliver the horses to their new owner just outside the village.

Deirdre turned quickly to her husband, breathless with excitement.

“Did you hear the man, Bran? He said he’s the Master of Horse at the castle!

Imagine that! And the horse you shod—she belonged to the Princess Issylte, the king’s only child!

” Branoc seemed to be barely listening as he took stock of the orders he had yet to fill, planning his afternoon and prioritizing his work.

Deirdre was insistent. “Bran! Are you listenin’? That gentleman, Lord Liam, he said that the princess had long blond hair and that she loved to ride. He said she was fourteen years old when she died four summers ago.”

At the mention of the princess’ long blond hair, Branoc turned to face her. Finally, she had his attention.

“That would make her eighteen now, wouldn’t it?

The same age as églantine .” Deirdre sneered, fixing Branoc with a stark, determined gaze.

“Isn’t that a coincidence , Bran? That églantine shows up out of the blue at the very same time that the princess has a tragic accident ?

They never found her body, you know? I do remember that.

I remember how they were searching everywhere, but she had been thrown into the sea, and they never found a single trace of her. ”

The pieces of a puzzle were falling in place.

Deirdre scoffed, “I don’t remember you ever mentionin’ that you had a cousin in Bretagne.

I never heard Mamie talk about a sister, either.

And now, suddenly, at the very same time that the princess dies in a tragic accident, with no trace of her body ever found… églantine arrives at Mamie’s cottage.”

She paused for her words to sink in, her face contorted with disdain. “She’s the same age, Bran. She loves horses, she’s a skilled rider, and she loves the forest. Just like the Emerald Princess did.”

Deirdre leaned forward to lock his eyes as she fit the final puzzle piece in place. With a sly grin, she smirked, “And—she has long blond hair, just like the princess, doesn’t she, Bran?”

****

Branoc dried his hands on his apron, trying not to reveal how fast his heart was pounding.

How his wife’s words had rattled him. The sinister appearance on Dee’s face made his mouth run dry.

She’d been acting peculiar lately—watching him constantly, pestering him about wanting a baby to the point of obsession.

Although she’d wanted a child ever since their marriage five years ago, it seemed that now Dee was all the more desperate for him to make love to her, frantically craving his affection.

Yet, the more she tried to entice him, the more she repulsed him.

He could barely stand to be near her and recoiled from her touch.

He thought of the beautiful blond nymph he watched nearly every day in the waterfall.

She’d captured his heart. He longed for her with an ache so intense it suffocated him.

He had to protect églantine from his crazed, jealous wife.

With the intense hatred that he saw blazing in her eyes just now, Branoc knew he had to think fast to deflect Dee’s suspicions.

His mind flashed through the events surrounding églantine’s arrival.

Mamie had never told him the truth about the girl’s background, saying simply that she had needed protection and shelter.

Now, Dee threatened églantine’s safety. If she talked about her suspicions to customers and the other shopkeepers in the village…

Bran needed to reaffirm the story his grandmother had told everyone.

églantine was his distant cousin, who had come to Ireland to stay with her grandmother’s sister, her last surviving relative.

A knot clenched in his stomach as he realized that Dee had uncovered the truth. églantine was indeed the Princess Issylte. It made perfect sense now. He had to protect her, the innocent victim of jealousy and hatred. He feigned indifference to his wife’s intense glare.