Fugitives! (27 page)
Authors: Aubrey Flegg
Between the Devil and the sea
, thought Sinéad.
alum had to return to the priory, but they would be safe for a while in the fisherman’s hut he had found for them. As he opened the door to leave, the sound of wind and wave rose to a crescendo; both he and his whistling seemed to be snatched away by the wind. A single wick, floating in a saucer of seal oil, was their only light; it fluttered and then recovered. For the first time since their mad dash into MacSweeney’s ambush, they were free and alone together, this time lounging on piles of fisherman’s nets, dry because the storm had put paid to all fishing.
Séamus propped himself on an elbow and turned to Haystacks. ‘How did you do it?’ he asked. ‘I am still convinced MacSweeney was going to hand us over to the English. What did you say to him?’
‘It can’t have been more than four words,’ said Fion. ‘I was watching.’
‘No, three!’ said Sinéad triumphantly. ‘Don’t tell them, Haystacks. I want to guess.’ She kept them waiting, then said: ‘KISS … THE … HAG! Am I right?’
Haystacks laughed. ‘Well done, Sinéad!’
There were murmurs of appreciation until Con complained: ‘Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?’
They all started to explain until Sinéad cut in: ‘It’s like this, Con. In his heart of hearts MacSweeney wanted to let us go – he’s an Irish chieftain, after all, and it’s a matter of honour – but the temptation to sell us to the English was too strong. The temptation was his “horrible hag” like in the Niall story, that turned into the fairest maid. And when Haystacks told him to “kiss the hag” he was saying, “Do what you know is right” – like what you did when you sent Aoife your gold pebble.’
Con thought for a moment, then a mischievous grin crossed his face. ‘Poor Aoife – some fair maid!’ For the first time in a long while, they all laughed together.
An hour later Calum came in, soaked to the knees having walked through the tide so his footprints wouldn’t lead straight to the hut. ‘Well, I’ve got news for you,’ he announced.
‘Have they arrested MacSweeney?’ Haystacks asked.
Calum shook his head. ‘No, he’s stuffing them with food and drink, but listen to this. The reason they’re here is that they heard yesterday of a French ship sheltering here in Lough Swilly.’
‘Of course. That’ll be the Earl’s boat,’ said Haystacks.
‘No, not the Earl’s boat. This one is smaller. She was seen from Inishowen opposite – she’s probably a French wine boat returning from Derry with wool or butter.’
‘A second boat!’ exclaimed Haystacks, heaving himself to his feet. ‘Where is she now?’
‘She’s up at Portsalon, the first sheltered cove in the bay.’ Their hut shook in the wind. ‘And she won’t be sailing tonight, I can tell you.’
‘Look, Calum,’ said Haystacks urgently, ‘I
must
check out this boat immediately!’ He dropped his voice. ‘I don’t care where she’s going, but we’ve got to get young Con out of here. How long before someone spills the beans and tells the English that Con was left behind?’
‘Hard to say. They and their horses are exhausted, and Domhnall is giving them enough drink to drown them. They know that the Earl sailed yesterday and will presume Con’s on board. Just one man worries me – an Englishman who speaks funny. He’s been asking after a group of children, but says one of them’s a girl …’ Sinéad looked away quickly as Calum glanced around.
Bonmann!
she thought, old fears churning in her stomach.
But now Haystacks was on his feet. ‘That clinches it. I must be off again and find out what I can about this mysterious boat. Calum, will you guide me?’ Calum nodded. ‘Rest as much as you can, and let’s hope she won’t sail before we get to her. If you need to go out, be careful, and don’t leave tracks in the sand.’
‘How I wish I could sail with you, Con!’ exclaimed Séamus, slashing at the air with an imagined sword. ‘I bet there’s an Irish regiment I could join. Don’t you realise, Sinéad, we’ve got nothing to go back
to. Can you imagine being bottled up in Dundalk with Aunt Fee?’
‘Perhaps I should accept the beastly piglet’s proposal?’ she said bitterly.
‘I think Bonmann’s interest is murder now rather than marriage. You see, we can’t lay claim to our heritage from the grave,’ said Séamus. ‘Anyway, I want a new start. I will fight for Ireland from Spain.’
‘It’s a French boat, so it’s probably going to France,’ said Sinéad acidly.
‘Who cares, there are Irish regiments there too. I wish I’d paid more attention to Fenton’s French lessons.’
‘You were too busy learning Latin!’ said Sinéad through her teeth, then regretted it. ‘I don’t want to leave Ireland ever. What about you, Fion?’
‘I’d stay if I had a future here. I should join up with Uncle Hugh, but what use would I be? Then there is so much to be learned – about the stars, new lands, new people. What I’d really like is a good education. The priesthood is cheap, they say, but I don’t think it would suit me – I’m more interested in this earth than in heaven, really. Anyway, we haven’t the money for a night’s lodging, let alone a passage to France. A sea captain might take an Earl’s son in the hope of being paid later, but not a load of ragamuffins like us.’
‘I’ll become a nun, and pray for your souls – and for the souls of other lost causes.’
It was the following evening before Haystacks returned. By now
they were all as cross as cats, and never wanted to see another fishnet in their lives. When he arrived, he stood inside the door, swaying from exhaustion.
‘No questions now, I’m dropping. But I have news for you. Thanks to Calum, I have spoken to the captain of the
St Lucia
. She is indeed French, and is returning from Derry with wool and hides. He has no cabin for passengers, but the wool sacks would make comfortable enough beds. At any rate, he’s agreed to take four passengers provided they are on the beach at Portsalon by tomorrow evening. He reckons the storm will have blown itself out by then. We will set out at dawn. Start thinking now about whether or not you wish to go. Con, you must go for your own safety, and one of the others should go with you. Fion, you might be the best one to accompany Con. As for you, Séamus and Sinéad, there is room for you to go too, if you wish.’
‘But sir, we have no money,’ said Séamus.
‘Decide what you would really like to do, and we’ll talk ways and means tomorrow. Sleep on it. That’s what I’m going to do.’ With that, he threw himself down on the nets, covered himself with his mantle, and was soon snoring gently.
Overnight the wind dropped and they woke to drips and the sound of drumming rain on thin thatch. When they opened the door they found themselves looking out through a vertical screen of rain that seemed to have hammered the waves into a reluctant calm.
‘This will be the end of the storm,’ said Haystacks. ‘Hopefully
it’s blown itself out. We will go as soon as the rain eases. Close the door. I have a weight on my mind – or rather, around my neck.’ Haystacks lifted the strap of a small but heavy satchel over his head. He turned to Con. ‘Your father, Con, gave me money to use as I thought best, first to find you, and then to bring you to Rathmullan in time for his sailing. Well, I failed in that, but there is enough money here to pay for your passage and to see you well on your way to finding your father in Spain. But this isn’t all yours, Con.’ He smiled and turned to Séamus. ‘Your father also gave me a sum in gold for the three of you – yes, Fion, you too are to have your share. His hope was to have you all safe out of Ireland while he secured the castle in Séamus’s name. Whether or not you go now, I will give you all your shares. Take the money and hide it, not in your packs, but on your bodies somewhere. I have given the French captain enough money to keep him at anchor until you come on board; later I’ll tell you how much to pay him when your journey’s safely over.’
