Lion of Ireland was the breathtaking chronicle of Brian Boru, the Great King who led the bickering chiefs of Ireland to unity under his reign. He overthrew traditions, reformed society, and became the Irish Charlemagne. The Ireland of 1014 was a dream Brian Boru had dreamed and brought into being.Now, with all the fire and brilliance for which her writing is known, Morgan Llywelyn takes us there, to the battlefield where Brian died, and to Brian's fifteen-year-old son, Donough, whose mother is the voluptuous and treacherous Gormlaith, with her lust for life and power undiminished by age: Donough, the son who is determined to make the High Kingship of Brian Boru's Ireland his own.""I know he's too young, but he's all we have left,"" says Fergal, and thus the boy takes his first command, on the bloody ground of Clontarf. From there he must move to establish his right to rule in Kincora and to make the kings of Ireland accept him as their High King.Yet Donough is torn--torn by his hatred for his mother and by his all-consuming passion for the beautiful pagan girl Cera, who remains beyond his reach, for the High King must have a Christian consort.... At the publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied.
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March 01, 1997
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Excerpt from Pride of Lions by Morgan Llywelyn
The tall boy on the gray horse cast an apprehensive look at the sky.
He could hear his men behind him grumbling as they rode. They resented his command of their company, considering it an undeserved appointment forced upon them by his father. Still more they resented being sent south for skirmish duty while Brian Boru was assembling the main army at Dublin for the battle to determine the future of Ireland.
Young Donough was as frustrated as his men, though in his case it was compounded by a growing sense of foreboding. The sky to the north, in the direction of Dublin, was filled with black clouds that had been boiling in eerie configurations since first light. It was now late in the day on Good Friday in the Year of Our Lord 1014, and the clouds looked more ominous than ever.
Donough tried to reassure himself. My father would never initiate battle on a Holy Day, he thought. But what if his enemies forced a confrontation? Pagan Northmen have no respect for the Christian calendar.
Watching the demoniac sky, Donough was increasingly certain that Brian Boru had already faced his enemies on the field of battle. The writhing clouds were witness.
He turned his horse's head toward Dublin and lashed its flanks with his horse-goad.