Daughter Of The Forest Read Free Page A

politely, like a predator encouraging its meal into a honeyed trap. “Can you be so little aware of the threat to our lands, to the very fabric of our life here? You have been instructed on all these matters; you have seen my men return bloodied from battle, have seen the havoc these Britons wreak on lives and land. Your own brothers think it honorable work to fight alongside their father so the rest of you can enjoy peace and prosperity. They risk their lives to win back our precious Islands, torn from our people by this rabble, long years since. Have you so little faith in their judgment? Where have you learned this ill-conceived rubbish? Campaigning? ”
    “From the evidence of my own eyes,” said Finbar simply. “While you spend season after season pursuing this perceived enemy across land and sea, your villagers grow sick and die, and there is no master to turn to for help. The unscrupulous exploit the weak. Crops are ill tended, herd and flock neglected. The forest guards us. That is just as well, for you would otherwise have lost home and people to the Finnghaill long since.”
    Father drew a deep breath. His men took a pace back. “Please go on,” he said in a voice like death. “You are an expert on the subject of the Norsemen, I see.”
    “Perhaps—” Liam said.
    “Silence!” It was a roar this time, stopping Liam almost before he got a word out. “This matter is between your brother and me. Out with it, boy! What other aspects of my stewardship have you found fault with, in your great wisdom? Don’t stint, since you are so outspoken!”
    “Is that not enough?”
    I detected, at last, a touch of unsteadiness in Finbar’s voice. He was after all still just a boy.
    “You value the pursuit of a distant enemy before keeping your own house in order. You speak of the Britons as if they were monsters. But are they not men like us?”
    “You can hardly dignify such a people with the title of men,” said our father, stung to direct response at last. His voice was harsh with building anger. “They come with evil thoughts and barbarian ways to take what is rightfully ours. Would you see your sister subject to their savagery? Your home overrun by their filth? Your argument shows your ignorance of the facts, and the sorry gaps in your education. What price your fine philosophy when you stand with a naked sword in your hand, and your enemy before you poised to strike? Wake up, boy. There is a real world out there, and the Britons stand in it with the blood of our kinsmen on their hands. It is my duty, and yours, to seek vengeance, and to reclaim what is rightly ours.”
    Finbar’s steady gaze had never left Father’s face.
    “I am not ignorant of these matters,” he said, still quietly. “Pict and Viking, both have troubled our shores. They have left their mark on our spirits, though they could not destroy us. I acknowledge that. But the Britons, too, suffered the loss of lands and lives from these raids. We do not fully understand their purpose, in taking our islands, in maintaining this feud. We would be better, perhaps, to unite with them against our common enemies. But no: your strategy, like theirs, is to kill and maim without seeking for answers. In time, you will lose your sons as you lost your brothers, in blind pursuit of an ill-defined goal. To win this war, you must talk to your foe. Learn to understand him. If you shut him out, he will always outwit you. There is death and suffering and a long time of regret in your future, if you follow this path. Many will go with you, but I will not be among them.”
    His words were strange; his tone chilled me. I knew he spoke the truth.
    “I will hear no more of this!” thundered Father, rising to his feet. “You speak like a fool, of matters you cannot comprehend. I shudder to think a son of mine could be so ill-informed, and so presumptuous. Liam!”
    “Yes, Father?”
    “I want this brother of yours equipped to ride with us when next we travel