CHAPTER IX.
THE NAILING OF BRIAN.
Brian woke in darkness, with pain tearing at his head and heaviness uponhis hands and feet. When he tried to put his hand to his head, thatheaviness was explained; for he could not, and thick iron struck dullagainst stone.
He lay there, and thought leaped into his brain, and he felt very bitterof spirit, but chiefly for those men who had come with him, and becausehe had failed before the Dark Master's hand.
It was cold, bitterly cold, and thin snow lay around him, so that heknew that he was in some tower or prison that faced to the east. It wasfrom that direction that the snow had driven, as he had sore cause toknow, and he wondered if the Dark Master had had any hand in thatdriving. But this he was not to know for many days.
It was the cold which had awakened him from his unconsciousness, heguessed. By dint of shifting his position somewhat, he managed to gethis back against a wall, and so got his hands to his head. In suchfashion he made out that his hair was matted and frozen with blood, andhis neck also, where a bullet had plowed through the muscles on theright side. His head-wound was no more than a jagged tear which hadsplit half his scalp, but had not hurt the bone, as he found after somefeeling. Then he dropped his hands again, for the chains that bound himto the wall were very heavy. It must be night, for light would comewhere snow had come, and there was no light.
Now, having found that he was not like to die, at least from his wounds,he set about stretching to lie down again, and found some straw on thefloor. He drew it up with his feet and gathered it about him; it wasdank and smelled vilely, but at the least it gave his frozen body somewarmth, so that he fell asleep after a time.
When he wakened again, it was to find men around him and a narrow stripof cold sunlight coming through a high slit in the wall of his prison.From the sound of breakers that seemed to roar from below him, heconjectured that he was in a sea-facing tower of the castle, in which hewas right.
The men, who were led by Red Murrough, gave him bread and meat andwine, but they offered no word and would answer no questions. So he ateand drank, and felt life and strength creeping back into his bones. Heconcluded that it must be the day after his arrival.
Now Red Murrough beckoned to the hoary old seneschal, whose red-rimmedeyes glittered evilly. The old man shook his keys and stooped overBrian, unlocking the hasp which bound him to the wall-ring. Theoppressive silence of these men struck a chill through Brian, but hecame to his feet readily enough as Murrough jerked his shoulder.
He followed out into a corridor, and the men closed around him, goingwith him down-stairs and along other passageways. Brian wondered as tohis fate and what manner of death he was going to die; yet it seemed tohim that death was an impossible and far-off thing where he wasconcerned.
He expected no less than death from the Dark Master, but at the sametime it was very hard to believe that he was going to that fate. He wasby no means afraid to die, but he felt that he would like to see theBird Daughter once more. Also, he had always thought of fate as comingto him suddenly and swiftly in battle or foray; and to be deliberatelydone to death in cold blood by hanging or otherwise was not as he wouldhave wished.
"At least," he thought without any great comfort, "Cathbarr and Turloughwill avenge me on the Dark Master--though I had liefer be living whenthat was done!"
In one of the larger and lower corridors they came on two men bearing abody, sewed for burial. Murrough stopped his party and growled outsomething.
"It is the _seanachie_," answered one of the bearers. "Since the DarkMaster struck him yester-morn he has not spoken, and he died lastnight."
Upon this Red Murrough crossed himself, as did the rest, muttered intohis tangle of red beard, and motioned Brian forward.
This wider passage gave through a doorway upon the great hall. There wasno dais, but the Dark Master was seated before the huge fireplace, hiswolf-hound crouched down at his side. The hall was pierced near the roofwith openings, and lower down with loopholes, so that when the sun shoneoutside it was bright enough.
Red Murrough led Brian forward, the clank of the heavy chain-linksechoing hollowly through the place, but O'Donnell Dubh did not look upuntil the two men stood a scant four paces from him. Then his head cameout from between his rounded shoulders and his eyes spat fire at Brian.
"A poor ending to proud talk, Brian Buidh!"
Brian tried to smile, but with ill success, for he was chilled to thebone and there was blood on his face.
"I am not yet dead, O'Donnell."
"You will be soon enough," the Dark Master chuckled, and the hallthrilled with evil laughter. In the eyes of all Brian had proven himselfthe weaker man and therefore deserved his fate. "What of this O'Malleyjourney of yours, eh?"
Brian made no answer, save that his strong lips clamped shut, and hisblue eyes narrowed a little. O'Donnell laughed and began to stroke hiswolf-hound.
"I have many messengers and many servants, Yellow Brian, and there islittle my enemies do which is not told me. Even now men are riding hardand fast to trap Cathbarr of the Ax and your following."
At that Brian laughed, remembering Turlough Wolf and his cunning.
"I think this trapping will prove a hard matter, Dark Master."
"That is as it may be. Now, Brian Buidh, death is hard upon you, andneither an easy nor a swift one. Before you die there are two thingswhich I would know from your lips."
Brian looked at him, but without speaking. The Dark Master had thrustout his head, his hand still lingering on the wolfhound's neck, and hispallid face, drooping mustache, and high brow were very evil to gazeupon. Brian, eying that thin-nostriled, cruel nose, and the undershotjaw of the man, read no mercy there.
"First, who _are_ you, Brian Buidh? Are you an O'Neill, as that ring ofyours would testify, or are you an O'Malley come down from the westernisles?"
At that Brian laughed out harshly. "Ask those servants of which youboast, Dark Master. Poor they must be if they cannot tell you even thenames of your enemies!"
"Well answered!" grinned the other, and chuckled again to himself asthough the reply had indeed pleased him hugely. "I would that you servedme, Brian of the hard eyes; I suppose that you are some left-hand scionof the Tyr-owens by some woman overseas, and the O'Neill bastards wereever as strong in arm as the true sons. Yet you might have made pactwith me, whereas now your head shall sit on my gates, after your bonesare broken and you have been nailed to a door."
"Fools talk over-much of killing, but wise men smite first and talkafter," Brian said contemptuously. He saw that the Dark Master wassomewhat in doubt over slaying him, since if he were indeed an O'Neillthere might be bitter vengeance looked for, or if he belonged to anyother of the great families.
"Quite true," countered the Dark Master mockingly, and with much relish."Therein you were a fool, not to slay when first we met, instead ofmaking pacts. Who will repay me my two-score men, Brian of the hollowcheeks?"
"The Bird Daughter, perhaps," smiled Brian, "since two days ago she hungten of those men I took in my ambuscade."
This stung O'Donnell, and his men with him. One low, deep growl swirleddown the hall, and the Dark Master snarled as his lips bared back fromhis teeth. Brian laughed out again, standing very tall and straight, andhis chains clanked a little and stilled the murmur. He saw thatO'Donnell wore his own Spanish blade, and the sight angered him.
"There is another thing I would know," said the Dark Master slowly."Tell me this thing, Brian Buidh, and I will turn you out of my gates afree man."
Brian looked keenly at him and saw that the promise was given inearnest. He wondered what the thing might be, and was not long inlearning.
"You came hither from Gorumna Castle," went on O'Donnell, fixing himwith his black flaming eyes. "Tell me what force of men is in thatplace, Brian of the hard eyes, and for this service you shall be setfree."
"Now I know that you are a fool, O'Donnell Dubh," and Brian's voice rangout merrily. "I have heard many tales of your w
izardry and your servantsand your watchers, but when an unknown man comes to you, his name ishidden from you; and all your black art cannot so much as tell you thenumber of your enemies! Now slay me and have done, for you have wastedmuch breath this day, and so have I, and it goes ill in my mind to wastespeech on fools."
"You refuse then?" O'Donnell peered up at him, but Brian set his facehard and made no reply. With a little sigh the Dark Master leaned backin his chair and motioned to Red Murrough to come forward.
"Strip him," he said evenly, and at the word a great howl rang out fromall the watching men, like the howl of wolves when they scent blood inthe air.
Murrough in turn signed to two of his men. These came forward andstripped off what clothes had been left to Brian, so that he stood nakedbefore them. In that moment he was minded to spring on the Dark Masterand crush him with his chains, but he saw that Red Murrough held aflint-lock pistolet cocked, and knew it would be useless. Also, if hehad to die, he was minded to do it like a man and not to shame the bloodof Tyr-owen, either by seeking death or by shrinking at its face.
Now there passed a murmur through the hall, and even the Dark Master'sevil features glowed a little; for Brian's body was very fair and slimand white, yet these judges of men saw that he was like a thing ofsteel, and that beneath the satin skin his body was all rippling sinew.Red Murrough drew out a hasp, brought his chained hands together, andcaught the chain close to his wrists, so that his hands were boundclose.
"Now," said the Dark Master, settling back and stroking his wolfhound asif he were watching some curious spectacle, "do with him as we did withCon O'More last Candlemas. But let us work slowly, for there is nohaste, and we must break his will. In the end we will nail him to thedoor, and finish by breaking all his bones. It will be very interesting,eh?"
A fierce howl and clash of steel answered him from the men. At anothersign from Red Murrough, Brian felt himself jerked to the floor suddenly,and his hands were drawn up over his head. His wrist-chains werefastened to an iron ring set in the floor, and his ankles to another,and he stared up at the ceiling-rafters of the hall, watching the motesdrift past overhead in the reaching sunbeams. It all seemed very unrealto him.
"First that long hair of his," said the Dark Master quietly.
Murrough went to the fire and returned with a blazing stick. Brian'sgold-red hair had flung back from his head, along the floor, andpresently he felt it burning, until his head was scorched and his brainbegan to roast and there was the smell of burnt hair rising from him.Then Murrough's rough hand brushed over his torn scalp, quelling thefire, but it did not quell the agony that wrenched Brian.
"Paint him," ordered O'Donnell.
Again Murrough went to the fireplace, and returned with a long white-hotiron which had lain among the embers. This he touched to Brian's rightshoulder, so that the stench of scorched flesh sizzled up in a thinstream, and followed the iron down across the white breast and thigh,until it stopped at the knee, and there was a swath of red and blackenedflesh down Brian's body. Yet he had not moved or flinched.
Then Murrough touched the iron to his left shoulder and drew it veryslowly down his left side. One of the watching men went sick with thesmell and went out vomiting. A second swath of red and black rose on thewhite flesh, and beneath it all Brian felt his senses swirling. Try ashe would he could not repress one long shudder, at which a wild yell ofdelight shrilled up--and then he fainted.
"Take him away," said the Dark Master, smiling a little, as he leanedforward and saw that Brian had indeed swooned with the pain. "To-morrowwe will paint his back with the whip."
So they loosened him from the iron rings, and four men lifted him andcarried him out. As they passed across the courtyard another came bywith a pail of sea-water, which they flung over him; the salt enteredinto his wounds, washing away the blackness from his scalp, and slowlythe life came back to him after he had been chained again in histower-room and left alone.
He was sorry for this, because he thought that he had died under theiron. He found a pitcher of water beside him, and after drinking alittle he spent the rest in washing out the salt from his flesh, thoughevery motion was terrible in its torture. So great was the pain thatgasping sobs shook him, though he stared up dry-eyed at the stones, anda great desire for death came upon him.
"Slay me, oh God!" he groaned, shuddering again in his anguish. "Slayme, for I am helpless and cannot slay myself!"
As if in answer, there came a soft laugh from somewhere overhead, andthe voice of the Dark Master.
"There is no God in Bertragh Castle save O'Donnell, Brian Buidh!"
The blasphemy shocked him into his senses, which had wandered. Now heknew that from some hidden place the Dark Master was watching him andlistening for his ravings, and upon that Brian sternly caught his lipstogether and said no more, though he prayed hard within himself. A cloakhad been laid near-by him, and when he had covered himself somewhatagainst the cold, though with great pain in the doing, he lay quiet.
The cold crept into him and for a space he was seized with chills thatsent new thrills of pain through his burned body, for he could notrepress them. After a time he relapsed slowly into numbedunconsciousness, waking from time to time, and so the hours dragged awayuntil the night came.
Then men brought him more food and wine and straw, and he managed tosleep a bit during the darkness, in utmost misery. But after the day hadcome, and more wine had stirred his blood redly, Murrough fetched him tohis feet and bade him follow. Brian did it, though walking was agony,for his pride was stronger even than his torture.
He was halted in the courtyard, found the Dark Master and his mengathered there, and knew that more torture was to come upon him. After asingle scornful glance the Dark Master ordered him triced up to a post,which was done. Brian saw a man standing by with a long whip, but gaineda brief respite as the drawbridge was lowered to admit a messengermounted on a shaggy hill-pony. O'Donnell bade him make haste with hiserrand.
"The word has come, master, that five hundred of Lord Burke's pikemenare on the road from Galway and will be close by within a day or so."
"And what of Cathbarr of the Ax?" queried the Dark Master. Brian'sheart caught at the words, then his head fell again at the response.
"They have scattered in the mountains, it is said, master."
"Murrough, have men sent to meet these royalists with food and wines,and if they are bound hither we will entreat them softly and send themhome again empty. Now let us enjoy Brian Buidh a while--though he hasstood up but poorly. It is in my mind that we will nail him upto-morrow."
With that Brian felt the whip stroking across his naked back. Hismuscles corded and heaved up in horrible contraction, but no sound brokefrom him; again and again the hide whip licked about him until he feltthe warm blood running down his legs, and then with merciful suddennessall things went black, and he hung limp against the post.
"Take him back," ordered the Dark Master in disgust. "Why, that boy wecut up the other side of Clifden had more strength than this fool!"
"His strength went out of him with his hair," grinned Red Murrough, andthey carried Brian to his prison.
The Dark Master had spoken truly, however. Brian's strength lay not somuch in brute muscles, though he had enough of them, as in his nervousenergy; and the slow horror of his burning hair and of that iron whichhad twice raked the length of his body had come close to destroying hiswhole nervous system. Other men might have endured the same thing andlaughed the next day, but Brian was high-strung and tense, and while hiswill was still strong, his physical endurance was shattered.
With the next morning, this fact had become quite evident to the generaldisgust of all within Bertragh Castle. The Dark Master himself visitedthe cell, and upon finding that Brian was lost in a half stupor andmuttering words in Spanish which no one understood, he angrily orderedthat he be revived and finished with that afternoon.
Red Murrough set about the task with savage determination. By dint ofsea water externally a
nd mingled wine and uisquebagh internally he hadBrian wakened to a semblance of himself before midday. Then food, oil,and bandages about his wounds, and in another hour Brian was feelinglike a new man.
He was under no misapprehension as to the cause of this kindness, butcared little. So keenly had he suffered that he was glad to reach theend, and he walked out behind Red Murrough that afternoon with a ghastlyface, but with firm mouth and firmer stride, though he was very weak andhalf-drunk with the liquors he had swallowed.
His fetters were unlocked and he was led to the doorway of the greathall, with the Dark Master and his men watching eagerly. Red Murrough,with an evil grin, pressed his back to the door and held up his left armagainst the heavy wood. Brian was half-conscious of another man who borea heavy mallet and spikes, and whose breath came foul on his face as hepressed something cold against the extended left hand.
Then Brian saw the mallet swing back, heard a sickening crunch, and witha terrible pain shooting to his soul, fell asleep.
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