The Faithful Heart (45 page)

 

 

They assembled at the northern wall, and pushed hard towards the
east, heading for the pass through the mountains and the convent at
Kilgarven.

 

 

Morgana leapt onto a fresh horse, and rode after them at the head of
her cavalry. The fighting through the woods was fierce, but
eventually the leader of the expedition showed his willingness to
surrender.

 

 

“You have nowhere to run!” Morgana called in Latin. “Your plans are
ruined, the convents and monasteries that the MacMahon brothers
raided to house and feed you are in my possession.

 

 

“You’re trapped. If you surrender to me peacefully, I give you my
word, we will let you have food and provisions, and the treasure and
gowns designated for the Princess Mary, and allow all but yourself
and your chief captains to leave,” Morgana offered in response to
the captain’s white flag.

 

 

“How can we trust you! You will kill us all.”

 

 

“I am not English. I am an Irish chief, head of the Maguire clan,
and I give you my word, you shall all go home to Spain, except for
those men who can tell the truth about what has happened here
today.”

 

 

The captain’s eyes narrowed mistrustfully, but Morgana said, “Come
with me to Kilgarven. I will show you what these men you have been
working with have done.”

 

 

The Spaniard’s weapons were stripped from them, but horses were
found for all. Morgana led them to Kilgarven, where she showed the
captain the mass graves of the nuns, the treasure that Dermot,
Brendan and Aofa had wanted to keep for themselves, and the huge
arsenal which had been captured by the Maguire forces.

 

 

“I am sorry for all your losses, for your ships, family, friends,”
the captain said in broken English.

 

 

“You were used, as were many others, by the ambitious MacMahons. I
doubt trying to put Mary on the throne via Ireland was ever a
realistic goal. I will keep my word. Your men shall go home. But
come, we must go back to Lisleavan and put a stop to the killing,”
Morgana urged.

 

 

The small party rode back to the main castle, and Morgana was
relieved to see that most of the fighting had stopped. She and the
Spanish captain shouted orders, and the combatants all put down
their weapons.

 

 

The Spaniards were stripped of their swords and pistols, and led
back to the few ships which had escaped the fires. Morgana then led
the captain and admiral of the fleet and several other officers into
the gates of Lisleavan, where they were put in the great hall and
treated with every courtesy.

 

 

Angus surveyed the damage to the castle, which was minimal, and the
casualties, which, though high, could have been much greater had
they been caught unawares.

 

 

 

Morgana returned to Ma Niadh, where she allowed the O’Reilly forces
to camp overnight to see to their dead and wounded, and then she
began to assist the injured herself. There was no sign of Ruairc
anywhere, and Morgana felt a sick pain in the pit of her stomach.

 

 

She returned to Lisleavan and looked around the castle precincts for
Ruairc, but just missed him.

 

 

Moving back outside, she went to the north gate, and saw a curious
looking dark object. Too late she heard the hiss of the spluttering
fuse.She turned to run, but her feet were lifted out from under her.

 

 

The explosion flung her several yards out into the lough, hurling
her into the freezing water with a mighty splash. At first she
thought she was drowning, she coud barely breathe, but struggling
for air only made her feel more agony. So she surrendered to the
pain, and did her best to float on her back to the shore, so heavy
did her limbs feel.

 

 

Ruairc, not having seen Morgana since the afternoon, had gone to
Lisleavan in search of her, and began to fear the worst.

 

 

When he finally found her flat on her back on the mud flats along
the shore late that night, she was so still and pale that he clasped
her body in his arms and began to weep.

 

 

“Morgana! Dear God, oh please, don’t let her be dead!”

 

 

Morgana groaned softly as he touched her injured back, and Ruairc
shouted for help.

 

 

“She’s over here! Someone help me!”

 

 

“I’ve been waiting for you to come. I wanted to see you one last
time.You’re well, not hurt in any way?” Morgana asked softly as she
lay prone in the sludge.

 

 

“Nothing wrong with me apart from a few cuts and bruises, mainly at
the hands of my two charming brothers,” he tried to answer
cheerfully through his tears.

 

 

“I’m so glad,” she sighed. She swallowed hard. “Ruairc, I’m done
for. I can’t feel my legs. But I want you to know, I've always loved
you. I was just too proud to admit it. Please forgive me.”

 

 

“And I was too proud to try to mend fences,
a stor
. Or maybe
I never believed I could be so lucky as to find a woman like you.
Never thought I deserved your love. I hope you’ll forgive me,”
Ruairc wept.

 

 

Morgana raised her hand to stroke his hair. “Ruairc, I don’t want to
die. There are too many things I’ve left undone.”

 

 

“Then I won’t let you die, do you hear me, Morgana! Hold on to my
hand, and don’t let go!” Ruairc urged hoarsely.

 

 

“As soon as I’m well, and look after a few pieces of unfinished
business, we’ll be married,” Morgana said in a slightly stronger
voice as she gazed into his emerald eyes tenderly.

 

 

“My dearest love,” Ruairc cried as he tenderly kissed her lips.

 

 

Then her eyes closed and she lost consciousness.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

 

Morgana kept her word to Ruairc, and married him in her chamber,
where Ruairc carried her after had discovered her battered and
bleeding body in the mud.

 

 

Then the Spanish surgeons from the invasion fleet went to work,
picking all of the grapeshot out of her back with meticulous care.

 

 

In all the years they had pictured their wedding, neither had ever
imagined her also receiving the last rites at the same time. Ruairc
was stunned at all his brothers had done, how Morgana had weathered
every storm until what should have been her finest hour of victory.
He never left her side, and prayed as though he had never prayed
before. He wished Agatha was there for help and consolation, but his
brothers' blind ambition had even robbed him of the only mother he
had ever really known.

 

 

He wanted to shout at the world, but what good would it do. It
already seemed the end of the world, with the Spanish invasion, and
the spreading rebellion of Silken Thomas. But If Morgana died, it
would be truly all over for him, he was sure. He had nothing to live
for or aspire to if she was gone.

 

 

For a week Morgana hovered between life and death. Even when she was
finally out of danger, Ruairc had to admit inwardly in his most
candid moments that he feared her spine was so badly injured that
she would never walk again.

 

 

He and Mary nursed her unstintingly day and night, while Finn and
Patrick recovered from their own wounds, and saw to the affairs of
the clan.

 

 

But gradually under Ruairc's warm, loving ministrations, she slowly
started to regain some movement in her limbs. As soon as she could
sit up in bed to tend to business, Morgana kept her word to the
Spaniards. With the exception of their admiral and ten captains, the
rest of the soldiers were given ample food and water in exchange for
all their remaining weapons and ammunition, which Morgana had
confiscated. Then they were allowed to sail back to Spain in
Morgana’s ships.

 

 

“But it’s our fleet, Morgana!” Finn had protested.

 

 

“Let them have the ships. They have lost much, and we have
everything we need now, food, trade, and the people we love,”
Morgana stated, glancing over at Ruairc, her violet eyes shining.

 

 

Half of the treasure and all of the gowns and other items intended
for the Princess Mary went with them. But she knew the rest of the
silver and gold would have to be kept as a bribe to induce the
English Lord Lieutenant Sir William Skeffington to accept her
version of events and acquit herself and Ruairc of treason.

 

 

She also gave orders for the Maguires to pack up and turn over the
arsenal of weapons concealed in the religious houses, and much as
Morgana disliked doing so, all of their sacred vessels as well.

 

 

Lord Deputy Skeffington had been beleaguered in Dublin for weeks at
the hands of Silken Thomas and his rebels. The upstart nobleman had
stormed Dublin castle and murdered Archbishop Alen, Henry’s head of
the ruling council and Archbishop of the new Anglican see of Dublin.
When Skeffington discovered what had been happening in the
north-west, he was inclined to be extremely severe, on the MacMahon
and O’Reilly families in particular.

 

 

But Morgana, travelling all the way to Dublin in a cart despite her
invalid condition, was able to get an audience with the Lord
Lieutenant, and pledged her word to him concerning peace in the
region.

 

 

“I ask for their lives, sir, in exchange for which I will enforce
the king’s peace, along with my husband Ruairc MacMahon.I shall also
pay taxes and apply for an English title and full status as an Earl
of the realm,” Morgana bargained astutely.

 

 

In the end, the sizeable treasure and cache of captured armaments
persuaded Skeffington to accede to Morgana’s requests. After seeing
the Spanish officers away home safely on a ship from Howth, Morgana
and Ruairc returned with Magnus O’Reilly back to the north.

 

 

Though Magnus and his two sons had officially been stripped of their
lands and titles, which had been awarded to Morgana, she kept her
word to the old man and allowed them all to remain in their homes,
with nothing altered except Magnus’s enmity.

 

 

The three families now agreed upon joint trading ventures, and
Morgana invited the O’Reilly and his family to their harvest
festival at the end of August.

 

 

Morgana even kept her pledge to the English mercenaries, who for the
most part elected to remain in Ireland, and filled in the gaps in
all three clans left by the deaths of so many.

 

 

Morgana bargained with the O’Donnells and O’Connors for new ships to
be built to increase her trade, and they too joined her at the
harvest festival.

 

 

The day was scorchingly sunny, as had been the entire summer, and
the bounty heaped up around them in the field outside Lisleavan
glowed in the orange light in a rainbow of colours

 

 

Patrick stood to toast Morgana with ale, and then Ruairc scooped
Morgana up into his arms and carried her to the front of the table.

 

 

He placed her gently down on the grass, and the happy couple knelt
by the altar to repeat their marriage vows for all who had not been
able to share in their first wedding in June when Morgana’s life had
hung precariously in the balance.

 

 

Morgana, still in mourning for the deaths of so many, wore the black
and cream gown, one of Ruairc’s first presents to her, and the
lovely cross she had found in Aofa’s room so long ago. Everyone
commented on her radiance as she sat on her invalid’s pallet in the
bright sunshine.

 

 

“If I'm glowing, it’s because I’m surrounded by such sunny company,”
Morgana declared as she lifted her goblet to salute the rows and
rows of men and villagers surrounding her.

 

 

Ruairc stood and cleared his throat. “I just want to say, at the
risk of being accused of boasting about my wife, that when I came
here only a few short months ago, the fields and pens were empty,
the household penniless, and the trade at a standstill. Morgana has
changed all that for everyone here, perhaps not as completely as she
has turned my life upside down, but near enough.

 

 

“I thank God every day for having spared her, and giving me the
blessing of her love. I also daily thank him for the good friends
who supported us all when we needed it most, and the new friends
Morgana has found along the way.

 

 

“I also wish to pay tribute to my wife’s courage and wisdom, for the
Spanish invasion would have been a disaster for all had it
succeeded. Yet in spite of the damage done by the invasion force,
and the O’Reilly clan, she forgave them, allowed them their freedom,
helped them on their way back to Spain in the one case, and has
given back the O’Reillys lost estate and helped Magnus to prosper.
She has seen to it all her promises have been honoured, and all this
despite her being confined to bed, unable to walk.

 

 

“So I give you, Morgana Maguire MacMahon, the faithful heart.”

 

 

“The Faithful Heart,” the assembled guests toasted enthusiastically.

 

 

“And I give you Ruairc MacMahon, the only love of my life, and the
father of my unborn child!”

 

 

Morgana smiled then, and to the amazement of all, she stood up and
walked a few steps up and down the row of tables.

 

 

Ruairc stared at Morgana for what seemed an eternity across the
trestle before running to her and picking her up into his arms. A
huge cheer went up as he kissed her and spun her around until she
was dizzy.