The Faithful Heart (11 page)

 

 

She was about to open the door again, when she heard Ruairc say,
“What are you doing? No one is meant to use these rooms anymore.Your
father ordered them to be kept locked.”

 

 

Morgana’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.Her brain whirled with
unspoken fears, and though she knew she had doubts about Ruairc’s
trustworthiness, his casual conversation about the dissolution of
the monasteries which they had had on their ride back home now
haunted her.

 

 

Ruairc had taken her to visit two of his cousins at a nearby
religious house many years before, and he was probably the only one
who would be able to tell her the truth.

 

 

She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his hand. “Come with me,”
she demanded, dragging him into the room and slamming the door
behind them both. "I hope to God I'm wrong, but please tell me, am I
right in saying that I think I know where all this has come from?”

 

 

Morgana held the torch high.

 

 

Ruairc gasped, and clutched the door frame for support. "God in
Heaven." He crossed himself.

 

 

“I’m right, aren’t I?These things are from St. Stephen’s and the
Augustinian Friary, aren’t they?” she whispered into the eerie
silence.

 

 

“How? Why?” Ruairc stammered, as he lifted a silver chalice to
confirm Morgana’s suspicions were correct. “When?”

 

 

“How long ago were they dissolved?”

 

 

“Less than a month ago.”

 

 

Morgana looked around, and picked up a golden salver, which she was
certain still had blood on it.

 

 

“We must get these things out of here! We have no right to them.
They’ve been stolen from the Church!” Morgana declared.

 

 

“But, Morgana, surely your need is greater. What’s done is done. The
monks are all dead or scattered, the religious houses in ruins,”
Ruairc pointed out.

 

 

“What are you suggesting, that we keep all this?” Morgana gasped.

 

 

“No, that you sell it, us it to get the clan back to its former
glory,” Ruairc suggested.

 

 

“No, Ruairc, I would be sorely tempted were it not for the fact that
I refuse to profit from the death and misfortune of so many innocent
priests. We will send the treasures to Aunt Agatha. She will look
after them.”

 

 

“And what if their convent too is dissolved?” Ruairc asked softly.

 

 

He stiffened, but shook her head. “I’ll worry about that later.
Right now, I will have to find another cart and some trustworthy
men.”

 

 

Morgana locked the door securely, and went down to the lower level,
where the carts were filling fast.

 

 

“Get me two carts, and two sturdy men,” she told Mary.

 

 

A shriek pierced the evening air.

 

 

“What on earth was that?” Ruairc gasped, jumping half way out of his
skin. "The banshee?"

 

 

“In a manner of speaking. It's Aofa, keening for the death of all
her hopes. I imagine after her palatial apartments, the dungeons are
a bit of a disappointment, but then we all have our crosses to
bear.” Morgana smiled tightly. “You can let her out tomorrow, Mary,
at dinner time.”

 

 

“And Fergus?”

 

 

“Fergus can rot until I return,” Morgana said offhandedly, as she
went with the carts to the back of the castle.

 

 

She and the two men soon set up a basket with a rope and pulley to
get the valuables out of the window and down into the waiting carts
in the hope that as few people as possible would see the monastic
treasures. To have been involved with attacking a holy house, or to
have take bounty from the raids, was not something her clan could
ever forgive.

 

 

Morgana and Ruairc then went up the stairs, and loaded the basket
tirelessly, managing to get even the heaviest pieces down without
harming them.

 

 

After two hours the carts were both full to the brim, and Morgana
sent them out under cover of darkness, with Sean accompanying them
as far as the convent on his way to his brother in Omagh.

 

 

“You’ve done enough, Morgana, it’s been a long day, and you need
your rest.”

 

 

Morgana was about to argue, when she decided it would best served
her purposes to make Ruairc believe she was following his advice.

 

 

“Aye, you’re right, I am very weary. A few hours’ rest surely won’t
make that much difference.”

 

 

Ruairc looked dubious, but a convincing yawn persuaded him she was
sincere. He walked up to her room with her, and planted a kiss on
her forehead.

 

 

“Sweet dreams, my dear,” Ruairc murmured, before disappearing down
the corridor.

 

 

Morgana entered her bedroom, and tied her cloak around herself
securely. As soon as she was sure Ruairc was safely in his room down
the corridor, she crept down the spiral staircase and out into the
stableyard, and told the waggoners to get ready to leave.

 

 

She saddled her own horse, and mounted. “Right, let us go. I will
ride on ahead to scout. You men, lock the gate behind me when I
leave. No one is to come in or out, is that clear? No one. Open the
gates for no one except myself Finn or Patrick, is that clear?”

 

 

Then Morgana spurred her horse, and galloped out into the darkness,
heading for Belleek with the convoy of carts trailing along behind.

 

 

As she thundered down the road, she heard Ruairc’s voice echoing
over the castle battlements calling for her to come back.

 

 

Morgana merely raised her arm in salute, and saw the gates closed
and barred behind her.

 

 

Ruairc was willing to give her his support, she knew, but this was
not his fight. She had to get rid of the contraband goods, or face
accusations of piracy. More importantly, she had to find out what
had happened to her once glorious fleet. Only Patrick and Finn, and
the Maguire ship captains could help her now.

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

In order to avoid any hills for the journey with the heavily laden
carts, Morgana chosen the southern route to Belleek. Though
exhausted, she rode tall in her saddle, for Morgana knew the eyes of
all the men were upon her, looking to her for leadership in the
midst of the crisis.

 

 

She couldn’t afford to let the clan down, for instinct told her this
was to be a battle for her family’s very survival. True, her father
was ill and might even die, but Morgana had seen the Maguires
through many troubles in the past, and she was damned if she was
going to let the MacMahons get the better of her.

 

 

Morgana knew all of the setbacks her family had suffered could not
have been mere chance. The Maguire and MacMahon clans were so close
to one another geographically, it would have been very easy for
Ruairc’s brothers Dermot and Brendan to make trouble. Furthermore,
her family’s own generosity in allowing the MacMahons access to the
huge lough at Kesh might go some way towards explaining the
disappearance of some of her ships.

 

 

However, to go up there and investigate would leave her and the clan
open to attack, and she didn’t wish to show her hand just yet,
certainly not until she was more certain of her position at Belleek.

 

 

The carts got bogged down several times in the thick mud left by the
harsh winter and the early spring rains, so that the party had to
halt and shore up the wheels with wooden slats until the oxen could
pull the vehicles free. It was time-consuming work, and Morgana
herself had to dismount more than once to get her back up against
the cart.

 

 

A steady drizzle which had started just as they had left Lisleavan
also hampered their efforts, and Morgana began to wonder if she
ought to abandon the expedition after all. She had two other castles
on this shore, Má Niadh and Tulach, and she was curious to see how
they had fared in the past two years that she had been in the
convent.

 

 

She turned to one of her companions, a stout young lad called Colm,
and asked, “Do you think we should stop at Má Niadh?The weather
seems to be worsening.”

 

 

“The castle there is nearly deserted. There's no food, no weapons.
We couldn’t fend off an attack if anyone decided they wanted to
steal the cargo.”

 

 

“Where is everyone?I left men in charge...”

 

 

“The castles were stripped of their valuables by your sister and
Fergus, and the men told to go beg for their bread elsewhere. I hear
many have gone to Cavan and Sligo.”

 

 

She swallowed her fury and said in an even tone, “In that case,
after we get this treasure safely to Belleek, I want you to go on to
Cavan, and I will need someone else trustworthy to go to Sligo, to
tell them I am back, and I wish them to meet me at the caves if they
would like to return and throw in their lot with me.”

 

 

“You fear trouble with the MacMahons and I can’t say I blame you.
These are odd times were are living in, and every step seems fraught
with danger,” Colm said sagely. “You can trust me, and I shall ask
Stephen over there to go to Sligo and convey your message.We are all
pleased you are home.”

 

 

“Thank you.” Morgana smiled. “I’m glad to be home.”

 

 

They passed the deserted castle of Má Niadh, its gates chained, its
moat full of dead leaves and tree branches.

 

 

“We are going to have a lot of work ahead of us to get things on an
even keel again,” Morgana sighed, as she continue to take a turn
leading the oxen in order to stay awake.

 

 

“If you will forgive my saying this, Morgana, you ran away from your
problems two years ago. Not that we blame you, but you're going to
have to convince the men that you aren’t going to run again,” Colm
pointed out astutely.

 

 

“The welfare of this whole clan can’t simply rest upon me alone. New
ideas and attitudes are going to have to be adopted if we are to be
successful. If it means dividing responsibilities, accepting others,
and just rolling up our sleeves to do whatever has to be done, we
are all going to have to agree to it. I am officially the
tanaist
of the
sept
, but I am a woman after all. My cousins are both
able men. Perhaps it is time to reward the faithful, root out the
weak, and ensure the succession by marrying well.”

 

 

“Will you leave the Church and marry Ruairc MacMahon then?” Colm
asked bluntly.

 

 

Even in the near dark Morgana could see the relief on his face at
the very thought.

 

 

She shook her head quickly. “I didn’t say that, I simply meant that
my cousins ought to think about coming home and settling down,
instead of trading all the time.”

 

 

Colm nodded silently. He looked as though he would have said more,
but she managed to cut him off effectively by saying, "And now, I
had better get back to scouting the road."

 

 

She knew it was cowardly, but how could she give him any answers
about her relationship with Ruairc when she had non herself?

 

 

So she re-mounted her horse and scouted on ahead, using the chill
rain on her face to keep her awake, turning over in her mind all she
had discovered ever since she had come home.

 

 

Another seven miles brought them to the deserted castle at Tulach,
and she again shivered in dread at the devastation, the emptiness of
the land that had once been her home, and such a prosperous one too
that it had been the envy of many in Donegal.

 

 

“It can be as it once was, it can all be prosperous again,” Morgana
murmured to herself, as she began to plan her strategy once she
arrived in Belleek.

 

 

It was not enough to sell the treasure and talk to the ship
captains. She needed help, and knew just the person who was most
likely to assist her if she played her cards diplomatically.

 

 

They arrived at Belleek before dawn. Morgana was overjoyed to see
her beloved ships resting at anchor in a small harbour by the ford
across the river into town.

 

 

But as the sky lightened, she could see that the timbers were rotten
in some places, the canvas sails mouldy, and the ropes frayed or
missing. She went from ship to ship rousing the men, and their
astonishment at seeing her again was evident.

 

 

“Morgana! Morgana!” they all gasped as she summoned each crew on
deck and strode amongst them so they could all see it was really
her.

 

 

She finally found her old friend Seamus. He was chief captain in
Finn and Patrick’s absence, and she demanded an explanation from him
for the woeful state of affairs.

 

 

He sighed heavily and sat down beside her in the captain's cabin of
three-masted
The Irish Rose
.

 

 

“It couldn’t be helped, Morgana," the weathered sea captain said
with a shake of his head. "Not even you can control the weather,
though I have to admit, I've wondered about you sometimes. You
certainly seem to have the most amazing luck. Or at least you did
have until Conor was killed. There have been lots of storms, and we
haven’t been able to put the ships in anywhere to repair them except
here. And here we can’t get supplies. We've been banned from the
town.”