The Lord of Ireland (The Fifth Knight Series Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

present to you John, Dominus Hiberniae , Lord of Ireland!’
    Cheers met his words as John stood up to turn and face the assembly, his stature surprising Theodosia. He was only a few inches taller than her; Benedict would stand head and shoulders above him.
    Henry beamed in adoration at his son. It was clear he saw himself in John. His young self: powerful, able to subdue a country with his very arrival.
    Disquiet knocked at Theodosia. John was Henry’s son, no doubt. But though his face matched Henry’s own, with his heavy brows and small mouth, his expression did not. His visage held no compassion, and his lips pursed in a superior arrogance.
    Yet the King’s indulgent smile remained as he gestured to his court to strengthen their support, and the ovation swelled. Finally, he signalled for silence. ‘Speak. Your first words as Lord.’
    ‘Your Grace. Father.’ John bowed briefly to Henry before he faced the court again. ‘Good people.’ A brief cheer met his greeting and the tight smile that left his eyes cold. ‘I have been chosen for this endeavour, and I approach it with solemnity and singularity of purpose.’ His confident gaze swept the room. ‘It is clear from Gerald’s account that there is much to be done.’ He lifted his chin. ‘So much. It is God’s work, which I welcome. It is clear to me that Ireland has a black heart of sin. Of adultery.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Of debauchery. Which must be duly punished, and—’
    A lone female voice rose in wordless cries.
    John frowned as he sought the source of the interruption.
    A clamour of conjecture broke out as the woman’s cries increased, loudened.
    His clamped lips showed that John had located her. ‘Take that woman out!’ His cry came shrill, insistent. ‘Now!’
    Theodosia grabbed for Benedict’s arm. ‘What’s happening?’
    Benedict strained to his full height. ‘It’s the wife of one of the barons,’ he said in surprise. ‘Her husband is trying to control her.’
    ‘Has she lost her reason, God help her?’ said Theodosia.
    Benedict shrugged. ‘No idea.’
    Henry’s face remained impassive as John’s voice echoed out again. ‘I have faced adversity in my life too. But I have prevailed!’ He nodded vigorously. ‘As I will prevail! My lordship will be an example to the world. The world!’
    He raised both arms, and cheers and claps broke out, Henry applauding with greater energy than anyone.
    Conscious that Benedict clapped too, Theodosia joined in as a great chant rose up: ‘ Dominus Hiberniae! Dominus Hiberniae ! ’
    But the cheers did nothing to lessen her apprehension.
    Theodosia looked to Benedict. ‘You heard the clerk’s words?’ she whispered. ‘How dangerous this is?’
    ‘Men of the Church scare easily.’ Benedict gave the suspicion of a smile. ‘I don’t.’
    ‘Neither do I. But you would be foolish not to heed the clerk’s warnings.’
    He caught the edge in her voice. ‘I’m sure the man exaggerates.’ He took a quick glance around to make sure no one had observed their exchange. ‘Theodosia, Abbess Dymphna told us she’s travelling with John’s court to Ireland. The King would never allow it if he thought she wouldn’t be safe.’
    ‘Perhaps you are right.’ The Abbess had indeed spoken of the pilgrimage she was making: to the abbey of her own brother, an abbot of great reputation.
    Yet Benedict’s reminder brought scant comfort to Theodosia.
    For in Ireland, a land fraught with sin, with danger, Dymphna would be secure in the arms of the Church.
    There would be no such protection for Benedict.

    Theodosia knelt in the deserted church at Sonning, finishing her pleas in prayer once more for Benedict’s safety.
    He was gone. Benedict was gone. And she could not foll ow him.
    The shafts of sunlight from the narrow windows had moved across the floor, marking yet another day’s passing as reliably as the monastery bells.
    ‘Keep my husband from bodily harm, I beseech you, O Lord. Let him have the