An Irish Hostage

by Charles Todd

As I rose to go, I said, “I need to check your kit. To see what I need to ask Terrence to find for me. Michael is so much better, he won’t need it tonight.”

  She was a little reluctant to let it go out of her sight. In her fear and worry for Michael, it had been a lifeline.

  Lowering my voice so that no one else could hear me, I said, “Eileen. I need to make certain it’s got everything we’ll need when we leave. The journey is going to be hard on Michael, even with a little exercise now. And there is Ellis to think about, if the searchers find him.”

  “He won’t leave without the Major.” She glanced at her sleeping husband. “We’ll have to drug him, Bess. That’s the only way we’ll make him go.”

  “What about the Major?”

  “I can’t worry about him. I have Michael to think about. And getting him safely away. I’m sorry if that sounds heartless. But I overheard Granny talking with Father O’Halloran. And she told him bluntly that with you in jail, the Major gone, all she had to think about was ridding the family of Michael. I heard her, Bess, and she said, ‘The marriage can be annulled.’”

  Surprised, I said, “You can’t believe that she would harm Michael? Or that she had anything to do with the Major’s disappearance or my going to that jail?”

  She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know what she’s capable of. I used to love her, but you can’t imagine how the Rising changed her. She’s always said she wanted to see Ireland free in her lifetime. Now, it’s as if nothing else matters. No one else matters. It’s like a sacred duty. I don’t think she would worry about her own soul, if she could free the country.”

  I’d wondered about that myself, but to hear it from Eileen was rather unsettling.

  “What about Niall?” I asked. “Does he feel the same way?”

  “He does now. She’s been after him to join one of the groups planning things. I sometimes think she’s sorry Terrence wasn’t one of the martyrs.”

  “He’s still fighting for Ireland,” I pointed out. “Doesn’t that count?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

  I took the kit with me when I left.

  What would happen to Mrs. Flynn when her daughter-in-law and her granddaughter deserted Ireland? Because that was most certainly how she would view their leaving . . .

  I claimed a headache at supper, and begged a cold cloth from Molly before I was sent up to lie down in a dark room.

  Everyone offered their sympathy. Mrs. Flynn had taken her meal upstairs, and Niall wasn’t at home.

  I thanked them, and went up the back stairs. When supper was over, Eileen looked in on me, as I thought she might. I said, the cloth covering my eyes, “I’ll be fine in the morning. But if I can’t get to sleep soon, I’ll not come down for breakfast.”

  “No, don’t even consider it.” Then she said, “Has Michael told you much about what happened to him?”

  Oh, dear.

  “I haven’t had much opportunity to talk to him—I mean in the sense of really speaking with him. Has he told you anything?”

  “No. That’s just it. He refuses. That’s partly my fault—at first I couldn’t bear to think of what he’d suffered. I didn’t want to know anything. But when you opened that door, when he told you—I realized then that I’d been selfish. Only, now when I ask, he shakes his head.”

  “I shouldn’t worry about it. Let him heal first. Physically and emotionally. It was a terrible ordeal, Eileen.” There was a hint of jealousy here. That I’d shared something that she as his wife should have been asking about all along, and hadn’t. It didn’t matter that I was trying to find Ellis. To her it appeared that Michael had confided in me, and not in her.

  “Then you believe he’ll tell me? I’ve begun to feel so left out—it’s always there between us, every time I look at his bandages. I’m his wife, I should be strong enough to share what he suffered. And yet I couldn’t bear to know what they did . . .”

  “I’m sure of it. But in his own good time, Eileen. Don’t force a confidence. He’ll hold nothing back when he’s ready to face it again. That will be better for you both.”

  She came over to the bed and kissed me on the forehead.

  “I don’t know what I’d have done without you here, Bess. I’m just sorry that it has turned out this way. I hope when you marry it will be a joyous time. You deserve it.”

  I didn’t know quite how to answer her. “I’m glad I was here. I seem to be making a habit of rescuing this family.”

  She laughed, wished me good night, and left.

  I lay there quietly until I was certain she wouldn’t come back. Or Maeve might come and try again to persuade me to give up my plan.

  As it happened, no one else came to my door.

  And as soon as it was completely dark, and the house had grown quiet, I got up, dressed, made sure of my revolver and Eileen’s kit. And then I slipped down the stairs and out the kitchen door, my heart in my mouth for fear someone would spot me.

  It would be difficult indeed to explain why I was dressed like a boy, my hair pinned up under the flat cap, a revolver in my pocket and Eileen’s kit in my hands.

  I veered toward the trees there on the lawn, then made my way to where the donkeys were penned.

  Terrence hadn’t come in to dinner, and there had been no message about where to meet him. I had to assume that this was where he’d expect to find me.

  And there he was, leaning on the top of the fence, as he had been this morning.

  I said a quick prayer that all would be well this night.

  Moving out of the shadows of the stable block, I went quietly toward him.

  He wheeled, suddenly alert as he heard my footsteps.

  And I gasped, realizing all at once that it wasn’t Terrence standing there.

  It was Simon Brandon.

  I ran the rest of the way. “You can’t imagine how glad I am to see you! But what are you doing here—I’ve been so worried—”

  He relaxed as he heard my voice, almost a whisper, but recognizable even in the dark.

  “You make a very fine boy,” he said. “I didn’t know you at first.”

  “A loan from Terrence. Skirts and boats don’t deal well together. Simon, he’s going to take me to Inishmore. I didn’t know where you were, I had to ask him. Will you come? Is that why you’re here?” I realized I was talking too much. “Is it safe for you to be here?”

  “Hush, someone will hear you,” he replied, quickly scanning the shadows.

  I stopped myself from saying more. But he couldn’t imagine how happy I was to see him. Instead, I went to stand beside him. And together we waited in silence. I could hear him breathing, and so I could feel when he tensed again, shoving me behind him.

  It was Terrence, coming not from the house but from the orchard. He had a large pack on his back, giving him a hunchbacked shape.

  “Who is this?” he demanded, stopping short and glaring at Simon, hard to see in the dark in his plain dark clothing.

  “The Traveler,” I said. “He’s come to help.” Although I realized that Simon hadn’t said anything about going with us.

  “How did he know?”

  “I—I think it was because I asked him before.”

  “And how did you manage that?”

  Simon answered for me. “It was before the Constable came. I was sleeping under one of the trees in the churchyard. She nearly stepped on me.”

  “What were you doing in the churchyard?” Terrance asked, turning to me.

  “Escaping from the house for a bit,” I retorted. “Can we please go? The night is slipping away—”

  Terrence turned, and we followed him. He was heading, I realized after a bit, for the strand I’d seen when I was out with Eileen, searching for Michael.

  Over his shoulder, he said, keeping his voice low, “The island is longer than it’s wide. I’ve been there. The side where the fort is located rises up three hundred feet or more. Over time part of the fort has already collapsed into the sea. Eventual
ly it will all be gone. But now it’s a semicircular plan, three concentric walls opening toward the cliffs over the sea, and behind the walls, a stretch of stones designed to deter cavalry. Or even infantry, come to that. No idea who they were afraid of, but there you are. And anyone in the fort can see us coming for miles.”

  Simon said nothing—he’d already been there—but I found it useful information. I asked, “There aren’t any villages where you intend to land?”

  “That’s right. Too shallow for most boats. Puts us a little farther away than I’d like, but we need to be sure the currach is there when we come back. It’s a rough climb,” he warned me. “Watch your feet. In the dark you can easily break an ankle.”

  If we come back, I thought to myself. It was already seeming to be even more of a fool’s errand.

  When we got to the strand, I saw a long, dark outline of what appeared to be a shipwreck drawn up out of reach of the tide. It hadn’t been there earlier. Surely this wasn’t—

  I turned to Terrence. “I thought—a rowing boat?”

  “It is. A currach. Hide stretched on a wood frame. It was mine as a boy. I found it in the barn loft.”

  “Is it seaworthy?” It looked more like a small beached whale, barely large enough for two.

  “Yes. I tried it after Niall went into town.”

  We had reached the dark shape, and it looked as impossible as it had at a distance.

  It was lying upside down on the strand, and as Terrence and Simon turned it over, Terrence was saying, “If someone sees this out in the water, they’ll take no notice. The islanders use it to fish. And when it’s drawn up, and someone comes across it while we’re searching, it won’t raise any alarms.”

  He handed Simon a pair of oars. “Sit in front,” he said. “I prefer you where I can see you.”

  They took the currach down to the water and shoved it into the sea. I started after them, intending to wade out as they were doing, but Simon turned, scooped me up, and set me dry shod amidships as it were. Then he got in the bow, while Terrence held her steady, and then he climbed aboard in his turn.

  She was amazingly easy to handle, this little currach. And larger inside than she’d appeared. We took the waves at a slant, rather than head on, and were very quickly in open water.

  It was then I noticed dark clouds on the horizon. I turned slightly and pointed them out to Terrence.

  “Then we’ll just have to hurry,” he called back.

  They were rowing smoothly, in rhythm. I was surprised to see them working so well as a team. But then Simon had always known how to match his companions. It was what made him such a good leader. I watched him handling the oars, getting the most out of every stroke, yet without tiring himself. I turned, and saw that Terrence was doing the same. Long pulls, using the sea and not fighting it. Men accustomed to the water.

  When had Simon learned to row?

  Ahead of us loomed a darker shape, and I thought it must be Inishmore. Just then beside me something rose out of the water, a white thing that startled me, so intent on what lay ahead that I hadn’t noticed the sleeping gull floating on the sea. Smothering a gasp that quickly turned into a smothered laugh, I watched it fly away.

  But that reinforced what Terrence had said—this little boat attracted very little attention, the oars dipping in and out of the water quietly.

  I’d expected to feel the little craft turn toward the dark shape, but it kept straight on its course. One of the other islands in this group? I hadn’t seen a map.

  Again I turned to glance at Terrence.

  He shook his head, then nodded toward something he knew was out there but I couldn’t see yet.

  Finally, when it seemed that we’d been out on this sea for hours, the slight movement of the water picked up a little. And ahead there was another shape looming out of the sea. I thought at first it was two islands, but we stayed beside it for some time, and I saw that it was actually one island, and several miles long. Inishmore, then?

  Terrence said, “Fort’s on the far end. Too far to walk.”

  We were moving parallel with the land, still out at sea. I couldn’t tell whether Terrence was looking for the right place to land, or knew where he wished to put in. Then he was pointing, and we turned toward the shoreline. Very soon I could pick it out.

  It wasn’t a tidy strand, like the one we’d left behind. I saw grasses coming right down to the water, and tiny inlets half hidden by them. Terrence found the one he wanted, and we shot over the waves and into it so quickly I was afraid we’d run aground.

  But as the currach went in, it filled the tiny space, coming to a halt where water stopped and land began.

  Terrence said quietly, “There are houses not far from here.”

  It was slightly boggy as they shipped oars and then Simon and Terrence got out. I could hear their boots making a squishing sound. I followed them, handing Simon my kit as I did, then nearly slipping before catching my footing. Another step along, I could feel the firmness of land under me.

  We moved in silence toward the rising ground, and soon we were on the loose scree of a rough path. It reminded me of the fells in the Lake District.

  In the starlight I could see it stretching ahead of us, rising up to the dark shapes that must be the edges of the cliff. There were no trees, just rough stone walls that seemed to enclose pasture or crops, but even they finally stopped.

  We stayed on that track until we came to a vast range of slanted and upright stones that protected the fort. It was a formidable sight, reminding me of the medieval stakes that protected infantry from cavalry attack. I couldn’t imagine how we were to get beyond them—it would be daylight by then. But Terrence turned to one side, where we weren’t quite so visible against the sky at our backs, leading us to a thick stone wall forming an enclosure of grass and rubble. We quickly found our way around it into that enclosure, only to be faced by another wall with an enclosure beyond it.

  Behind me, Simon asked softly, “Are you all right?”

  I nodded, staying behind Terrence, and watching his every move.

  We got around that second wall into the next enclosure, but ahead was a formidable platform partly surrounded by a very thick wall. I couldn’t see a way into it. It wasn’t something we could climb, either.

  Terrence stopped, listening, then he took out a flask from the pack he’d carried with him. We squatted in the lee of the second wall while Terrence passed me the flask. I had the first drink, expecting water, but it was whiskey. My eyes watering, I passed it back to Simon. Terrence took his, then capped it and returned it to the pack.

  I could feel the fire spreading through me, giving my muscles new life.

  All was quiet as we crossed the enclosure, making our way toward what appeared to be an insurmountable obstacle. I still didn’t see the way up and inside it.

  We’d made it this far without attracting attention. The wind was rising, covering our progress toward the top, but I was starting to wonder if there was no one up here but ourselves. Perhaps we’d been wrong about the Major being kept here. I took a quick look back at the way we’d come. If anyone was awake in the houses by the harbor, no light showed to mark it. And then in the far distance, out at sea, lightning flickered in the clouds.

  Terrence touched my shoulder, pointing, and I followed him. He’d played here as a boy. He’d know where to look. This entire fort was amazing. The walls must have been much higher when it was new, hundreds of years ago, and I couldn’t imagine how prehistoric people had dragged stones up here to create this place. A massive undertaking.

  Terrence stopped, and I could see the way up to the wide platform. He leaned forward to say in my ear, “Stay here. Can you find your way back to the currach? If you have to? If not, keep going until you find a house. They’ll help you get back to Killeighbeg.”

  “I can find my way,” I told him. “But I’m going with you.”

  He started to argue with me, but Simon cut in. “Let her stay close. We may need to lea
ve in a hurry.” He passed my kit to me.

  And I remembered that Simon had got this far on his own without being caught. Peering up the steps I could just see grass and stone, and then a smaller flatter platform by the edge, overlooking the sea. Leaning forward a little more, I was surprised to see that the thick, steep wall we’d crept around, although nothing like what it must have been, still offered shallow shelter on the seaward side. And in a small hollow there was the flicker of a flame. A fire.

  The wind must have blown the smell of smoke out to sea.

  A shadow moved across the light, and Simon pulled me back, out of sight.

  A rough voice carried to us—just the sound, the words indistinguishable. But I thought whoever it was must be shouting.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Simon and Terrance adjusting scarves over their faces.

  “Stay here,” Terrence said again and crept up the steps, Simon at his heels. They had drawn their weapons, moving in the shadow of the wall toward the fire.

  I stretched forward, my own revolver in my hand, to keep watch, and was just in time to see what appeared to be two men dragging a third toward the precipice and the sea.

  I wanted to cry out, to stop them, and then I heard Simon shout something. He and Terrence came out of the shadows, racing toward the two men, who dropped their burden and faced the unexpected attack.

  There was no way of following what happened next. I heard a gunshot, and someone fell, crying out. Another shadow broke away from the fight, racing toward the stairs, where I was watching.

  I held my breath.

  He hadn’t seen me—

  Let him go? Or stop him?

  I rose up out of my crouch and brought up my revolver.

  I’d forgot that I looked like a boy, not a woman. He slid to a stop on the loose chippings that littered the platform, and I’d have sworn this was one of the men I’d seen with the singer. He made up his mind, even as I watched, and rushed toward me. I brought the revolver to bear, and it didn’t waver.

  He veered then, leaping down, nearly falling. He got to his feet and ran on.

  I’d lost whatever was happening on the platform, and as I turned back, there was silence.