A sad news indeed. But it seems that you manage to ret rid of those Scots alone. Hurrah! 
-
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I didn't understand the line about the compulsory haggis - it made no sense whatsoever to me... Well done beating back those imperialist Scots, though!
Well done beating back those imperialist Scots, though!
I knew my father's uncle's third cousin twice removed was right.
Ahhh crrap about Art, though. That's gotta stink to leave such a good looking wife behind!
So after your recovery, who get's paid back first, your vassel, the "High" King, the Scots, or the worthless English?
Ahhh crrap about Art, though. That's gotta stink to leave such a good looking wife behind!
So after your recovery, who get's paid back first, your vassel, the "High" King, the Scots, or the worthless English?
It's alive! (The AAR, anyway. Possibly not Art )
Congratulations on your heroic sort-of almost rout of the heathen (*) Scottish invaders. Maybe you could persuade the English to give you Meath - you'd certainly do a better job of defending it.
Anyway - best of luck, and looking forward to seeing more wome^H^H^H^H stories from the Emerald Isle.
(*) I'm sure there's something in the Bible that outlaws haggis. There must be.
)Congratulations on your heroic sort-of almost rout of the heathen (*) Scottish invaders. Maybe you could persuade the English to give you Meath - you'd certainly do a better job of defending it.
I've long believed that EUII is in need of a 'slap vassal' command. Maybe if we whine loud enough Johan will put it in the next patch?RossN said:
Anyway - best of luck, and looking forward to seeing more wome^H^H^H^H stories from the Emerald Isle.
(*) I'm sure there's something in the Bible that outlaws haggis. There must be.
Part 9 - Going Nowhere Slowly...
"Who the HELL would nominate me?" - Rachael Leigh Cook, She's All That
Cork, July, 1451
Caoimhe I
On the morning after her (uncontested) election and crowning, the new Queen of Munster rose early and went for a walk by the banks of the river Lee. Caoimhe was still feeling a little...a lot actually overwhelmed. Apart from the dull ache in her heart over her heart over her fathers death and the culture shock of leaving a dull, but safe life in England there was the undeniable fact that her kingdom was greatly weakened - by the ongoing war with the Scottish, by the vampiric loan payments, by a political marriage with an ungrateful and ally and a disinterested cheating vassal.
The 19 year old Queen might have been in even more desperate states if it hadn't been for her rock of a mother. Some who didn't know her very well had expected Caolin to crumble, but in fact she demonstrated the will of iron that had seen her through difficult times before (and had made vegetarianism fashionable in a country largely dependent upon beef). She missed her husband very deeply, and had vowed to wear the black mourning clothes for the rest of her life, but she did have a daughter to take care of.
Indeed during the funeral her cousin Declan Desmond, King of Connacht had sent a note appologising that he couldn't come to Art's funeral, despite being the vassal of the deceased and the cousin of both his wife and his daughter because he had just had his bedroom redecorated in tasteful shades of diamond encrusted platinum. Resisting the temptation to kick his ass back to Galway in the interests of good relations Caolin merely politely kicked the messanger out of a second story window. This wasn't the time to alienate your friends, no matter how obnoxious, useless and backstabbing.
Last thing the courier saw before he got a Guicci heel in the stomach. Guess what he was thinking?
Caolin found her daughter now, sitting on a pleasant grassy area overlooking Southgate Bridge, dangling her feet in the blue...er bluish (luckily it was summer) water.
"Hey honey."
"Oh, hey Mom... I was just, you know, thinking."
"Totally." the older woman sat down beside her daughter and put her around her neck as they watched the city wake up.
"You know, if you ever like need any help you can totally ask me, right? I mean I know... I know people say I'm a bit of an airhead and all that, and maybe they're right. But I have been married to the king for over 20 years and I've picked up a few tricks from you're Daddy. So, I'm just saying I'll be here for you. Fer shurr."
Caoimhe looked into her mothers face and they both smiled through the tears.
"Totally Mom, totally." and the Queen and her mother went back to the castle.
Dublin, February, 1452,
The English finally got their act together and 'liberated' Dublin from the Scots. After the city surrender the Scot commander tearfully explained that he had merely been on a stag night that had gotten a wee bit out of hand.
The English, being idiots naturally believed this and forgave him, before sending him back to Scotland with as much stout as he could carry.
Countdown to next Scottish invasion beginning...
10...9...8...
Dubliners upon being told the Scots have given the English their word they won't be back.
Cork, December, 1453
It was not an especially happy Christmas in Cork. The Baron of Forth, Eamon Nolan (or as he prefered to go by: 'The O'Nuallain, Prince of Foharta') built a whopping great castle in Wicklow. The court applauded him. It was an excellent idea everyone agreed, very sensible in case (or rather, when) war threatened. Unfortunatly it added more upkeep to an already strained bill - when the debt collectors had come looking the previous week, Caiomhe and the entire court had had to hide behind the curtains until they went away.
"Isn't there any source of money at all?" wailed Caoimhe as she sadly examined the pair of genuine Clare socks the leading nobles of the kingdom had spent five agonising months saving to buy her.
"Well", suggested the Lord of Waterford "there is your cousin..."
"Huh? But you don't have any money either Tadc, Genny told me about your having to rummage through the bins for third class rejected crystal goblets, which - though nice by the way - have a nasty tendency to shatter into a million, squillion pieces when they come into contact with liquid." with that the Queen pointed meaningfully to a wine stain on her dress.
"Er no not me your majesty, I meant your other cousin. Declan. Also sorry about that, the guy I got them off swore they had been extensively tested."
Declan... well he was certainly implausibly rich and, Lord knew he hadn't lifted a finger to help Munster against the Scots. Unfortunatly he was technically a vassal and Caoimhe didn't fancy the civic unrest to be gained from ditching him and then going to war. Besides he had a bigger army! So maybe not just yet...
"I have decided," said the Queen "that once again this year we will have to go on a national diet in order to give an example to our subjects." she waited for the groans to die down "Now, who's with me for some gnarly Cabbage Log?"
Yummy, nourishing spinach about to be loggified. Tasty, yet inexpensive!
To be continued...
Urg, I can just feel bankrupcy coming. Just wish it would get here faster and poor old (er, young) Caoimhe could afford (stylish) shoes again! At least Leinster is now fortified, thank you random events.
Sorry not much of interest happening.
Do chuid
"Who the HELL would nominate me?" - Rachael Leigh Cook, She's All That
Cork, July, 1451
Caoimhe I
On the morning after her (uncontested) election and crowning, the new Queen of Munster rose early and went for a walk by the banks of the river Lee. Caoimhe was still feeling a little...a lot actually overwhelmed. Apart from the dull ache in her heart over her heart over her fathers death and the culture shock of leaving a dull, but safe life in England there was the undeniable fact that her kingdom was greatly weakened - by the ongoing war with the Scottish, by the vampiric loan payments, by a political marriage with an ungrateful and ally and a disinterested cheating vassal.
The 19 year old Queen might have been in even more desperate states if it hadn't been for her rock of a mother. Some who didn't know her very well had expected Caolin to crumble, but in fact she demonstrated the will of iron that had seen her through difficult times before (and had made vegetarianism fashionable in a country largely dependent upon beef). She missed her husband very deeply, and had vowed to wear the black mourning clothes for the rest of her life, but she did have a daughter to take care of.
Indeed during the funeral her cousin Declan Desmond, King of Connacht had sent a note appologising that he couldn't come to Art's funeral, despite being the vassal of the deceased and the cousin of both his wife and his daughter because he had just had his bedroom redecorated in tasteful shades of diamond encrusted platinum. Resisting the temptation to kick his ass back to Galway in the interests of good relations Caolin merely politely kicked the messanger out of a second story window. This wasn't the time to alienate your friends, no matter how obnoxious, useless and backstabbing.
Last thing the courier saw before he got a Guicci heel in the stomach. Guess what he was thinking?
Caolin found her daughter now, sitting on a pleasant grassy area overlooking Southgate Bridge, dangling her feet in the blue...er bluish (luckily it was summer) water.
"Hey honey."
"Oh, hey Mom... I was just, you know, thinking."
"Totally." the older woman sat down beside her daughter and put her around her neck as they watched the city wake up.
"You know, if you ever like need any help you can totally ask me, right? I mean I know... I know people say I'm a bit of an airhead and all that, and maybe they're right. But I have been married to the king for over 20 years and I've picked up a few tricks from you're Daddy. So, I'm just saying I'll be here for you. Fer shurr."
Caoimhe looked into her mothers face and they both smiled through the tears.
"Totally Mom, totally." and the Queen and her mother went back to the castle.
Dublin, February, 1452,
The English finally got their act together and 'liberated' Dublin from the Scots. After the city surrender the Scot commander tearfully explained that he had merely been on a stag night that had gotten a wee bit out of hand.
The English, being idiots naturally believed this and forgave him, before sending him back to Scotland with as much stout as he could carry.
Countdown to next Scottish invasion beginning...
10...9...8...
Dubliners upon being told the Scots have given the English their word they won't be back.
Cork, December, 1453
It was not an especially happy Christmas in Cork. The Baron of Forth, Eamon Nolan (or as he prefered to go by: 'The O'Nuallain, Prince of Foharta') built a whopping great castle in Wicklow. The court applauded him. It was an excellent idea everyone agreed, very sensible in case (or rather, when) war threatened. Unfortunatly it added more upkeep to an already strained bill - when the debt collectors had come looking the previous week, Caiomhe and the entire court had had to hide behind the curtains until they went away.
"Isn't there any source of money at all?" wailed Caoimhe as she sadly examined the pair of genuine Clare socks the leading nobles of the kingdom had spent five agonising months saving to buy her.
"Well", suggested the Lord of Waterford "there is your cousin..."
"Huh? But you don't have any money either Tadc, Genny told me about your having to rummage through the bins for third class rejected crystal goblets, which - though nice by the way - have a nasty tendency to shatter into a million, squillion pieces when they come into contact with liquid." with that the Queen pointed meaningfully to a wine stain on her dress.
"Er no not me your majesty, I meant your other cousin. Declan. Also sorry about that, the guy I got them off swore they had been extensively tested."
Declan... well he was certainly implausibly rich and, Lord knew he hadn't lifted a finger to help Munster against the Scots. Unfortunatly he was technically a vassal and Caoimhe didn't fancy the civic unrest to be gained from ditching him and then going to war. Besides he had a bigger army! So maybe not just yet...
"I have decided," said the Queen "that once again this year we will have to go on a national diet in order to give an example to our subjects." she waited for the groans to die down "Now, who's with me for some gnarly Cabbage Log?"
Yummy, nourishing spinach about to be loggified. Tasty, yet inexpensive!
To be continued...
Urg, I can just feel bankrupcy coming. Just wish it would get here faster and poor old (er, young) Caoimhe could afford (stylish) shoes again! At least Leinster is now fortified, thank you random events.
Sorry not much of interest happening.
Do chuid
merrick said:
There's always richelieu. I guess if you had no army and about to loose the capital with a ally army sitting next to it, it would be justified to keep the AAR alive.
Ho, and btw - are you following the "historical monarchs" whatsoever?
th3freakie said:
Nope. Munster doesn't have any listed and it would take a huge amount of effort to dig up info on who was the uncrowned O'Brien (or McCarthy, Kennedy etc.) of the day and what he was like (and 90% of them would be names and dates). Quite aside from the fact that a united, independent Munster is fairly divergent anyway.
So I invented a fictional sept of the O'Donells in keeping with the style of the AAR (with pictures
)Do chuid
RossN said:So I invented a fictional sept of the O'Donells in keeping with the style of the AAR (with pictures
Do chuid
Mighty prety ones too
So... you have a permanent king in the game or something? (Can't be bothered to load EU2 and look)
I'd write whatever "do chuid" means in portuguese if I knew it...
th3freakie said:Mighty prety ones too
So... you have a permanent king in the game or something? (Can't be bothered to load EU2 and look)
I'd write whatever "do chuid" means in portuguese if I knew it...
Yep 'O'Donell', with 4/4/4. I have to invent who comes to the throne when and what they do with it.
Do chuid (means 'Yours' btw, as in the end of a letter)
th3freakie said:
Nah, you just know Connacht was intentionally staying out of it. What better way to get out of an uncomfortable vassalage? It wasn't HIS fault the Scotsmen came rampaging...
RossN said:
"Ao seu dispôr" then.
At least that will make the anexation of that vassal even sweeter. It is going to be a "diplo-ex-king-to-the-dungons-anexation" right?
th3freakie said:"Ao seu dispôr" then.
At least that will make the anexation of that vassal even sweeter. It is going to be a "diplo-ex-king-to-the-dungons-anexation" right?
Except that I am currently at -30 or thereabouts diplomatically and never have the money to increase it. *sigh*
Do chuid
Bankrupcy will be a bad thing... But you're right, the sooner the better.
And Connacht must be punished!
And Connacht must be punished!
mmmm, cabbage log.
I missed the last three updates somehow, but I'm all caught up now. Keep up the hilarity!
I missed the last three updates somehow, but I'm all caught up now. Keep up the hilarity!
Yes...cabbage...yum.
In retrospect I probably should have done this with the Mongol Empire Scenario (which I only discovered after and love), since I could have gone with my first choice of 'Dublin' (Meath) then and in a way I might have had it a bit easier.
Oh well, doesn't seem to be going to badly, eh? More tomorrow.
Do chuid
In retrospect I probably should have done this with the Mongol Empire Scenario (which I only discovered after and love), since I could have gone with my first choice of 'Dublin' (Meath) then and in a way I might have had it a bit easier.
Oh well, doesn't seem to be going to badly, eh? More tomorrow.
Do chuid
RossN said:Yes...cabbage...yum.
In retrospect I probably should have done this with the Mongol Empire Scenario (which I only discovered after and love), since I could have gone with my first choice of 'Dublin' (Meath) then and in a way I might have had it a bit easier.
Oh well, doesn't seem to be going to badly, eh? More tomorrow.
Do chuid
I guess you'll just have to write another AAR after this one
RossN said:
This is the best Mother-Daughter conversation I've ever read.
Sorry to read about your difficulties with the Scots and your faithless so-called friends. Good luck sorting it all out, and I hope you can avoid bankruptcy even if it means minting cash for years, it feels better that way.King Art was a good man and we'll all miss him. Somehow I think Caolin will find a way to pay back all the evildoers. And what your kingdom lacks in riches and military might, you have a double portion of beauty.
Good luck.
Part 10 – A Munster Love Story
"I can't understand whose handwriting is this? Oh, hang on, it's mine." -Andrea Corr
The Kingdom of Ulster in the mid-15th century.
Crest of the Kingdom of Ulster
Dublin, September, 1456
Maurice FitzMaurice, newly appointed Justiciar of the all those parts of Ireland that acknowledged English rule (in theory: the entire island. In practice: Dublin, Meath and any towns who could be persuaded to give their taxes to the Kings Men rather than to the local brigands) had been in Dublin for two months and was already bored out of his mind. He was itching for something to do, preferably something that would make his name and his fortune and get him out of this armpit of a country.
Ever since the Scottish war had ended (before his arrival) there had been very little going on. England was allies with Queen Caomhie of Munster-Leinster (rumoured to be the most eligible bachelorette this side of the Papal States) so obviously he couldn't interfere there - though Maurice had cleverly asked for a meeting on the so called 'Irish Question' which was of course merely a ruse for a candle lit romantic dinner.
Then there was Declan of Connacht who he had met at the Galway Races the Kingdom of Connacht was now sponsoring annually (despite repeated instances that Connacht was broke with the "thankless burden of maintaining a massive army to protect us from the Formor". No one quite knew what the Formor where or even if, as some suspected, they were entirely fictional but it was best to let Declan keep his army, Just In Case). The King was an earnest seeming fellow who loudly proclaimed his loyalty to the King of England, the Queen of Munster-Leinster and the Pope before casually presenting the fact that the English party owed him 50,000 d due to "losses incurred gambling". So war was clearly out there, at least until he scraped enough together to buy back his army’s weapons from Declan.
Then there was Ulster...hmm... no one liked the pompous 'High King'. Besides he was widely rumoured to be consorting with the French (whom the English were still at war with). He had a new and greatly enlarged garrison...
Idly Maurice looked at his office wall map and casually started mentally giving out parts of Ulster to loyal followers while he splashed on some cologne (from, um, Hamburg) and got ready for his meeting with the most eligible bachelorette this side of the Papal States.
Cork, October, 1456
It was no part of Caoimhe's governing policy to intend to rule alone - tradition, the nobles and an adoring, but iron willed mother saw to that. It was clear that she must find a husband, and soon. She had of course been engaged to a minor English Royal, but both the country and herself (who had actually met him balked at this so the hunt was on in other quarters.
Caoimhe herself had some issues here. She shared her mothers famous looks and charm - indeed the mother got almost as many offers as the daughter, though she declined them due to memory of her late husband - and she certainly liked boys but she was also aware that the future of the country rested on her shoulders so she probably shouldn’t choose someone just because he had a cute butt. Though obviously this wouldn’t hurt.
There was alas an unenviable shortage of brilliant, patriotic noble-born hunks around. The highest born noble left in the Kingdom was her cousin Tadc, who quite apart from being her cousin (ew!) was married to the third most beautiful woman in Munster, most of the other nobles were either also married or too old. Speaking of which the wizend, wrinkled old nonagenarian the Elder O'Brien had without warning dribbled out of a 30 year retirement and had started sending her flowers. Which wouldn't be too bad except the old goat had somehow decided that lavender, to which was dangerously alergic would be the perfect token. So these days she had to stay out of her own bedroom if she didn't want to succumb to constant sneezing attacks.
At least the posters (designed by the Bishop of Cork so as not contain any wanton imagery) had been posted in any manor farm in Munster and Leinster:
The poster. Distressingly rumours abound that several of the more out of the way Kerry villages took to worshipping them, and, in a moment of ironic misunderstanding sacrificing and ritually eating vegetarians to them. But that could just be a rumour.
At the very least as Caoimhe told her mother it would restrict would be suitors to literate applicants.
"Don't feel bad honey, I'm sure you'll find the right guy soon. Btw how did that meeting with Maurice go?"
Caoimhe shuddered "Don't ask. He asked a question and I don't think he liked the answer. He won't be riding a horse for a few days either..."
The door slammed open and Tadc burst in out of breath. "Forgive me cousin, aunt, but England has just invaded Ulster!"
The queens looked at each other in astonishment, then at Tadc, then back at each other.
Everyone agreed it was astonishing.
Somewhere in Ulster, September 1456 - April 1457
Angered over his rejection (and having to ride with a cushion - for such a petite woman Caoimhe kicked like a football player) Maurice had indeed invaded Ulster. Catching the army of the High King napping (literally: Maurice attacked at 9 am on a Sunday violating the ancient Irish warfare rule of the Sunday Lie-in) he routed them and began besieging the castle of Navan.
In an uncharacteristic move the English brutally ravage a piece of Ireland.
Ulster, for four centuries the most powerful and respected of the Irish kingdoms, the ancient seat of the O'Neils got there asses collectively kicked for several months, culminating in a humilating surrender that horrified the entire Irish world and left, nightmare of nightmares, the richest and one of the oldest Provinces in Ireland in English hands.
Erk!
They were not unobserved. A Leinster Nobleman had been spying on the English for months and sent back reports to the court in Cork on the Ulster situation. When Ulster fell he smuggled the Royal Family to safety in Munster...
Cork, December 1457 - March 1458
It has been said that that the first item on the agenda of any Irish meeting is the split and that was certainly true in the chaos of the Munster-Leinster court. Arguements raged: one faction pointed out that no one had actually liked the High King and that his downfall should be celebrated and that actually, now that you mention, that Maurice boyo isn't too bad looking, I mean your Majesty could do a lot worse.
The opposing faction argued that the take over of any Irish territory by a foreign power was a disaster and a very dangerous precedent and that frankly Caoimhe could do a hell of a lot better (naturally this last bit had considerable Royal support...).
As if none of this was bad enough Munster-Leinster had found itself once again embroiled in a foreign war - first with the revolting English province (shades of Poitu!) of Guyene (October) and then with Castille on behalf of Navarre (December).
Finally in March the newely victorious Earl of Ulster, Maurice FitzMorris arrived. He gloated slimly about his campaign then dropped his bombshell: England wanted it's ally to go to war abroad again:
The last straw.
"I will need to discuss it with my court" Caoimhe told him icily in tones that told him he would be leaving minus his balls if he didn't stop leering like that and left him be.
"We can't go to war again for these people. Remember Ulster!" proclaimed Tadc, who had never been to the place.
"Remember Navan" said the Younger O'Brien sadly, who had.
"What do you think Mother?" asked the Queen nervously. She desperately wanted to tell Maurice to stuff it, but could she really leave the alliance of England? The legacy of her fathers reign?
Caolin's beautiful brown eyes teared slightly. She must have been thinking the same thing. She smiled at her daughter. "I think your father would like totally want you to serve your country. Oh and tell this geek that no one messes with an O'Donell!"
They marched into the waiting room.
"It's off Maurice, go home. Munster won't be your lapdog dude."
The Englishmans face was a battle ground over which emotion would win out: anger or shock. Anger clubbed shock over the head. "You'll regret this! No harlot says know to England!"
There was stunned silence. Then Caolin strolled up to Maurice, smiled and calmly asked "Like, what did you just say to my daughter?"
Maurice told her.
Caolin had the same kicking genes as her daughter and 20 years more experience. She kicked a gucci clad foot into a certain spot. It connected with a distressing fleshy sound.
All the men in the room felt their eyes water in sympathy.
Maurice gasped, moaned, then collapsed into a groaning ball of pain.
"What did you call my daughter...?"
It was several hours later and Caoimhe was taking a quiet afternoon stroll along the bank of the Lee, thinking about the fall out that would happen over the days events, the marriage problem and that she would have to extend the national loan again this year when she bumped into a stranger who had been idly staring into the water at a pretty, sheltered spot. Both apologised reflexively, apologies that trailed of as they got a good look at each other.
Eamon O'Nolan, Baron Forth
"I'm very sorry you'r Majesty," he said bowing and taking her hand, "I was just standing her thinking. I am Baron O'Nolan of Forth." he grinned at her.
Painfully aware she was blushing Caoimhe couldn't quite hide the admiration in her voice: "Um, yes Forth. I heard that you were our man in Ulster. The one who rescued the Royal Family. You're a hero."
He looked a little embarassed at his legend as he replied "I was only doing what was right by my duty to you your Majesty."
"But you must have been very brave, a nobleman like you in dangerous territory. A lonely life I expect..."
"Yes a bit lonely. I never had the time to find a wife while I was in the service." he admitted sadly.
Caoimhe did a very quick mental calculation arrived at an unsatisfying result and decided sod the odds, she'd ask him anyway. "I don't suppose, you like...vegetarian?" she said smiling shyly.
He smiled happily. "Been one for years your Majesty, but you can't a decent cabbage log up North for all the platinum in Connacht."
"Please...call me Caoimhe."
And they went for an evening stroll by the river.
To be continued...
Probably suicide, but I was just fed of going to war for England. Here's to hoping it works!
Do chuid
"I can't understand whose handwriting is this? Oh, hang on, it's mine." -Andrea Corr
The Kingdom of Ulster in the mid-15th century.
Crest of the Kingdom of Ulster
Dublin, September, 1456
Maurice FitzMaurice, newly appointed Justiciar of the all those parts of Ireland that acknowledged English rule (in theory: the entire island. In practice: Dublin, Meath and any towns who could be persuaded to give their taxes to the Kings Men rather than to the local brigands) had been in Dublin for two months and was already bored out of his mind. He was itching for something to do, preferably something that would make his name and his fortune and get him out of this armpit of a country.
Ever since the Scottish war had ended (before his arrival) there had been very little going on. England was allies with Queen Caomhie of Munster-Leinster (rumoured to be the most eligible bachelorette this side of the Papal States) so obviously he couldn't interfere there - though Maurice had cleverly asked for a meeting on the so called 'Irish Question' which was of course merely a ruse for a candle lit romantic dinner.
Then there was Declan of Connacht who he had met at the Galway Races the Kingdom of Connacht was now sponsoring annually (despite repeated instances that Connacht was broke with the "thankless burden of maintaining a massive army to protect us from the Formor". No one quite knew what the Formor where or even if, as some suspected, they were entirely fictional but it was best to let Declan keep his army, Just In Case). The King was an earnest seeming fellow who loudly proclaimed his loyalty to the King of England, the Queen of Munster-Leinster and the Pope before casually presenting the fact that the English party owed him 50,000 d due to "losses incurred gambling". So war was clearly out there, at least until he scraped enough together to buy back his army’s weapons from Declan.
Then there was Ulster...hmm... no one liked the pompous 'High King'. Besides he was widely rumoured to be consorting with the French (whom the English were still at war with). He had a new and greatly enlarged garrison...
Idly Maurice looked at his office wall map and casually started mentally giving out parts of Ulster to loyal followers while he splashed on some cologne (from, um, Hamburg) and got ready for his meeting with the most eligible bachelorette this side of the Papal States.
Cork, October, 1456
It was no part of Caoimhe's governing policy to intend to rule alone - tradition, the nobles and an adoring, but iron willed mother saw to that. It was clear that she must find a husband, and soon. She had of course been engaged to a minor English Royal, but both the country and herself (who had actually met him balked at this so the hunt was on in other quarters.
Caoimhe herself had some issues here. She shared her mothers famous looks and charm - indeed the mother got almost as many offers as the daughter, though she declined them due to memory of her late husband - and she certainly liked boys but she was also aware that the future of the country rested on her shoulders so she probably shouldn’t choose someone just because he had a cute butt. Though obviously this wouldn’t hurt.
There was alas an unenviable shortage of brilliant, patriotic noble-born hunks around. The highest born noble left in the Kingdom was her cousin Tadc, who quite apart from being her cousin (ew!) was married to the third most beautiful woman in Munster, most of the other nobles were either also married or too old. Speaking of which the wizend, wrinkled old nonagenarian the Elder O'Brien had without warning dribbled out of a 30 year retirement and had started sending her flowers. Which wouldn't be too bad except the old goat had somehow decided that lavender, to which was dangerously alergic would be the perfect token. So these days she had to stay out of her own bedroom if she didn't want to succumb to constant sneezing attacks.
At least the posters (designed by the Bishop of Cork so as not contain any wanton imagery) had been posted in any manor farm in Munster and Leinster:
The poster. Distressingly rumours abound that several of the more out of the way Kerry villages took to worshipping them, and, in a moment of ironic misunderstanding sacrificing and ritually eating vegetarians to them. But that could just be a rumour.
At the very least as Caoimhe told her mother it would restrict would be suitors to literate applicants.
"Don't feel bad honey, I'm sure you'll find the right guy soon. Btw how did that meeting with Maurice go?"
Caoimhe shuddered "Don't ask. He asked a question and I don't think he liked the answer. He won't be riding a horse for a few days either..."
The door slammed open and Tadc burst in out of breath. "Forgive me cousin, aunt, but England has just invaded Ulster!"
The queens looked at each other in astonishment, then at Tadc, then back at each other.
Everyone agreed it was astonishing.
Somewhere in Ulster, September 1456 - April 1457
Angered over his rejection (and having to ride with a cushion - for such a petite woman Caoimhe kicked like a football player) Maurice had indeed invaded Ulster. Catching the army of the High King napping (literally: Maurice attacked at 9 am on a Sunday violating the ancient Irish warfare rule of the Sunday Lie-in) he routed them and began besieging the castle of Navan.
In an uncharacteristic move the English brutally ravage a piece of Ireland.
Ulster, for four centuries the most powerful and respected of the Irish kingdoms, the ancient seat of the O'Neils got there asses collectively kicked for several months, culminating in a humilating surrender that horrified the entire Irish world and left, nightmare of nightmares, the richest and one of the oldest Provinces in Ireland in English hands.
Erk!
They were not unobserved. A Leinster Nobleman had been spying on the English for months and sent back reports to the court in Cork on the Ulster situation. When Ulster fell he smuggled the Royal Family to safety in Munster...
Cork, December 1457 - March 1458
It has been said that that the first item on the agenda of any Irish meeting is the split and that was certainly true in the chaos of the Munster-Leinster court. Arguements raged: one faction pointed out that no one had actually liked the High King and that his downfall should be celebrated and that actually, now that you mention, that Maurice boyo isn't too bad looking, I mean your Majesty could do a lot worse.
The opposing faction argued that the take over of any Irish territory by a foreign power was a disaster and a very dangerous precedent and that frankly Caoimhe could do a hell of a lot better (naturally this last bit had considerable Royal support...).
As if none of this was bad enough Munster-Leinster had found itself once again embroiled in a foreign war - first with the revolting English province (shades of Poitu!) of Guyene (October) and then with Castille on behalf of Navarre (December).
Finally in March the newely victorious Earl of Ulster, Maurice FitzMorris arrived. He gloated slimly about his campaign then dropped his bombshell: England wanted it's ally to go to war abroad again:
The last straw.
"I will need to discuss it with my court" Caoimhe told him icily in tones that told him he would be leaving minus his balls if he didn't stop leering like that and left him be.
"We can't go to war again for these people. Remember Ulster!" proclaimed Tadc, who had never been to the place.
"Remember Navan" said the Younger O'Brien sadly, who had.
"What do you think Mother?" asked the Queen nervously. She desperately wanted to tell Maurice to stuff it, but could she really leave the alliance of England? The legacy of her fathers reign?
Caolin's beautiful brown eyes teared slightly. She must have been thinking the same thing. She smiled at her daughter. "I think your father would like totally want you to serve your country. Oh and tell this geek that no one messes with an O'Donell!"
They marched into the waiting room.
"It's off Maurice, go home. Munster won't be your lapdog dude."
The Englishmans face was a battle ground over which emotion would win out: anger or shock. Anger clubbed shock over the head. "You'll regret this! No harlot says know to England!"
There was stunned silence. Then Caolin strolled up to Maurice, smiled and calmly asked "Like, what did you just say to my daughter?"
Maurice told her.
Caolin had the same kicking genes as her daughter and 20 years more experience. She kicked a gucci clad foot into a certain spot. It connected with a distressing fleshy sound.
All the men in the room felt their eyes water in sympathy.
Maurice gasped, moaned, then collapsed into a groaning ball of pain.
"What did you call my daughter...?"
It was several hours later and Caoimhe was taking a quiet afternoon stroll along the bank of the Lee, thinking about the fall out that would happen over the days events, the marriage problem and that she would have to extend the national loan again this year when she bumped into a stranger who had been idly staring into the water at a pretty, sheltered spot. Both apologised reflexively, apologies that trailed of as they got a good look at each other.
Eamon O'Nolan, Baron Forth
"I'm very sorry you'r Majesty," he said bowing and taking her hand, "I was just standing her thinking. I am Baron O'Nolan of Forth." he grinned at her.
Painfully aware she was blushing Caoimhe couldn't quite hide the admiration in her voice: "Um, yes Forth. I heard that you were our man in Ulster. The one who rescued the Royal Family. You're a hero."
He looked a little embarassed at his legend as he replied "I was only doing what was right by my duty to you your Majesty."
"But you must have been very brave, a nobleman like you in dangerous territory. A lonely life I expect..."
"Yes a bit lonely. I never had the time to find a wife while I was in the service." he admitted sadly.
Caoimhe did a very quick mental calculation arrived at an unsatisfying result and decided sod the odds, she'd ask him anyway. "I don't suppose, you like...vegetarian?" she said smiling shyly.
He smiled happily. "Been one for years your Majesty, but you can't a decent cabbage log up North for all the platinum in Connacht."
"Please...call me Caoimhe."
And they went for an evening stroll by the river.
To be continued...
Probably suicide, but I was just fed of going to war for England. Here's to hoping it works!
Do chuid
I wouldn't say that - just wait till England have hit a bad spot (revolts, distant wars against powerful enemies, etc) then grab those two English-occupied provinces for Munster-Leinster! What English monarch would go to much trouble to hang on to a bit of Ireland if there are too many other problems looming?