The Wooing of Orla E-Book

alastair macleod

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

"Conall had a daughter, Orla by name, a beautiful girl, nearing sixteen, auburn hair worn long, green eyes, already a shapely figure. The foster son Uisde had coveted her for some time. She was of the caher people and so he reckoned she should be his.

But Orla, her mother had remarked, was like the she-goat, fussy with her food and what she wore, and likely to go her own way on all things. If the womenfolk went for walk beyond the wall it was Orla that often went off on her own and had to be brought back. In the caher, if it was sunny, she was often to be found sitting on her own on the top of the great wall, looking out across the Burren, combing her long hair."

Leseprobe

Alastair Macleod

The Wooing of Orla

To the Burren, the ancient exposed brain of Ireland BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

The Wooing of Orla

That spring it was bitter. Just when the lambs were to be born. An easterly wind had blown for days; there was no frost, just this wind.

And everything seemed grey: the lichen on the stones, the faces of the people, even the grass was pale with no growth visible.

What few cattle they had were thin and wasted.

     It was unusual. McDey, the druid, said it was a portent of change.  "When the seasons change, then the ways of men change.”

     This was not very helpful, thought Conall Dubh, fourth chief of that name.

Conall was a boaire febsa, a cow lord, part of his status depended on his stock of cattle and sheep.

Life was hard enough here on the limestone plateau of the Burren. Even in a good year you had to be thrifty. Vegetation grew between the clefts in the rock: ferns, grasses, small bushes. On these the hardy cattle grazed as well as on the rushes and the leaves of trees in the dells.

     He had ordered the pregnant ewes to be brought inby to punds in the caher.  Caher Conall, the stone ring fort, had fifteen foot high walls, nine feet thick. These kept out not only the wind, but marauding foxes, wolves, bears and thieves.

     Immediately beyond the walls of the caher were the stone walled fields of the outby,  beyond that the bare limestone plateau rose up slowly to land held in common with other clans, the common pasture.

The cattle, rams, and cast ewes would have to forage in the outby, and on the common pasture, under the watchful eyes of the herd boys and shepherds. Water was scarce on the Burren but within the caher was a well of clear cool water that never ran dry.

     His men still hunted. Wild goats made a good meal, while a hare was always welcome for the stew pot.

The main hut within the caher was twenty feet long, which was fitting for the chief and his family. A slightly smaller hut housed the warrior band; another hut housed the women house slaves. Other smaller huts housed the druid and his family, then the bard and his family. Smaller huts still, housed shepherds’ families, though the male shepherds and cowherds lived mostly out on the land, sheltering in small conical stone hovels.

    Other slaves also lived in the main huts. For within the caher the slaves milked the sheep and the cow, made cheese, spun wool, wove clothing, dressed the meat and cooked for all. They also looked after the younger children.

     Conall had three great guard dogs, mastiffs, that, while peaceful to the inhabitants whom they knew, could be fierce to strangers.

     But the caher was not just physical protection. Its sacred shape of a circle, the druid reminded the people, was in honour of the sun.

“All life is a circle,” he said. “The circle offers us protection from evil spirits.”