The Hart and the Harp

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The Hart and the Harp Page 33

by Sorcha MacMurrough


  “No, of course not. Really, Oran I do wish you would stop making such a fuss,” she said testily.

  “My dear girl, I’m far older than you, and have known dozens of pregnant women in my day. You haven’t been looking after yourself, and you keep rubbing your stomach. It all suggests to me you aren’t up to this. You should stay in the camp and rest instead of going on a raid and running the risk of getting captured, or injured.”

  “Thank you for all your care and concern. I have to go, Oran. Now just please stop fussing and let me get on with my arrow making.”

  “All right. But if you insist on going on the raid, I’m coming with you.”

  "Really, Oran, there’s no need.”

  But Oran was adamant. “Either we both go, Shive, or neither of us go. That's my final word on the subject.”

  “All right, I’ll even go lie down again if it will make you stop grumbling,” Shive said waspishly, though she was surprised at her own bad temper. She wrapped her cloak around herself again the chill night air, and slipped into the nearest cave. She pulled the branches back over her entry way and lay down on the ground on her side.

  It seemed like Shive had only just closed her eyes when Oran came to shake her by the shoulder. She was about to jump up, but Oran reminded her about the low ceiling of the cave.

  “What time is it?”

  “It must be early in the morning, around two. They finally settled down about an hour ago, after cooking and getting their weapons ready. They’ve tried to send scouts out, but they've either disappeared, or seen so little that they can have no suspicion of what awaits them here,” Oran informed Shive quietly.

  “Good. Perfect for a raid. Where are their guards posted?”

  “At the four corners of the camp. It will be easy enough to slip by them if we go through the trees here on the left hand side and circle around. Also, by coming from the east, they won’t suspect what’s waiting for them over in the west with Irial’s forces.”

  “All right, we’ll attack the eastern side of the encampment,” Shive agreed as she rose and strapped on her swordbelt securely.

  Then she crawled out of the cave to where the men were waiting for her silently. “Are we all ready?” Shive asked as she checked her two daggers in her belt, and then slipped her sword into its sheath.

  They all nodded.

  Shive and the others moved silently and stealthily through the forest, until eventually they saw the movement of two guards ambling slowly up and down on side of the camp. Two of Shive’s men moved forward quickly, and slit their throats with lightning speed and deadly efficiency.

  Shive had excellent night vision. It wasn’t long before the men were picking their way carefully thought the sleeping men, and slitting their throats as noiselessly as possible. They moved up and down the whole eastern side of the O’Rourke/O’Dowd camp. Then Shive signalled for them to head back into the woods.

  Some of the men complained when they got a few yards away, “We could kill more! Let’s go back and take advantage of our good fortune.”

  “It seems terribly dishonest somehow. Some of these men aren’t even O’Rourke, now are they? The O’Dowds have never done us any harm except that want to be on the winning side if Muireadach succeeds in becoming high king. No, we must have killed over a hundred of them. Those dead men will have served their purpose by scaring the others who are going to have to fight us tomorrow. Let’s not get too sure of ourselves here and take unnecessary risks. Now let’s head back to the pass, before they discover the guards are missing and figure out what's happened and start scouring the woods for us,” Shive advised.

  Once back at the camp, Shive changed the watch, and ordered everyone to get to sleep straight away, since they would have to be up early the next morning in time for whatever attack the O’Rourkes had planned.

  “And you, Shive, aren’t you going to sleep?” Oran demanded.

  “I am in a minute. I just want to check things one last time around the fortifications.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Oran walked with Shive throughout the camp silently as she surveyed all their arrangements with a critical eye. At last she headed back to her small cave and lay down on the small pile of grass Oran had thoughtfully collected for Shive on his tour with her.

  “We’re ready, Shive. Don’t worry. You'll carry the day, my girl, because you fight on the side of the right and true and good. God watches over the righteous, as you well know. You will prevail,” Oran hastened to reassure her as she began to toss and turn in the dark.

  “It’s not that, Oran, though thank you for trying to ease my mind. No, I was just wishing things could have worked out differently. If I had known of my father’s treachery before, or suspected Lasaran and Orla sooner, maybe I could have prevented all this. I only pray to God that Tiernan is all right. I couldn’t bear it if something had happened to him because of me.” She could barely hold back the sob which threatened to choke her.

  “You still love him then, even though Tiernan treated you so cruelly the night you returned home to him from Bothandun?” Oran asked in surprise.

  “Of course I love him. I always have. I never realized it until we were wed. I had loved him ever since I'd known him as a young woman. I was but thirteen when my brother Fiachra was killed, and Tiernan was banished from Rathnamagh. But he and I were friends, and Tiernan was always kind to me.

  “I now realize that I’ve compared every man I have ever met to Tiernan, and found them all wanting. Ruairi, and Mahon, and of course poor Ernin, all wanted to marry me. Somehow, deep in my heart, I felt that Tiernan and I belonged together. Oran, if anything were to happen to me, well, you’ll tell him won’t you? I couldn’t bear him thinking I had run off with Ruairi. That I never loved him.”

  “I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell your own husband how much you love him, but yes, I promise I will if the need should arise. I'll find Tiernan and tell him.”

  “That’s all I ask. Good night, Oran,” Shive sighed, and turned over with an easier mind.

  “Good night, child. Pleasant dreams,” Oran whispered in the dark, and prayed that she might live to be happy one day.

  Shive tried to get comfortable on the cold hard ground, and tossed and turned for a long time until sleep finally claimed her. Though easier in her mind, she observed that no matter which way she moved, she always felt a dull pain in the small of her back. And no matter how hard she tried, Shive couldn’t get Tiernan’s face, his angry frowning one from when she had last seen him at Castlegarren, out of her mind.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Shive had cause to regret not enjoying her short time to rest better. When the battle finally did commence, at about eight the next morning, the O’Rourke troops, having awakened to find many of their comrades dead, burned for revenge. The fighting was the fiercest Shive had ever seen, and she thanked God for her foresight in fortifying the pass effectively.

  It was the O’Rourkes’ anger as well as their impetuosity which led them right into Shive’s many traps. Even so, in terms of the sheer numbers, Shive’s small force was greatly outmatched. The archers served manfully, picking off many targets from their perches high above. With catapults and rocks, the other men high up in the trees above the sheer walls of the valley were also able to injure many of the invaders.

  Still, it became all too apparent as the sun rose high in the sky that the O’Rourkes would sooner or later break through the small pass unless the band which Tiernan was supposed to be leading came to harass the O’Rourke and O’Dowd forces as they tried to crowd into the narrow neck of the pass.

  Maumkeogh was little more than ten feet wide at the narrowest point where Shive and her men had built up the most extensive fortifications. Shive hoped that Irial was only delaying long enough to give Tiernan time to join them.

  She prayed that their delay didn’t have some more sinister significance, for example that Tiernan really had been captured or killed by Muireadach. Or that Tierna
n had forbidden the O’Haras to support Shive in her attempt to protect their lands and Ruairi’s.

  Shive fired her bow from behind the wall of tree trunks they had erected until her shoulder felt as though it would fall out of its socket. Then she was forced to fight on the barricades they had constructed, when the enemy tried to get its horses to leap over the obstacles. The pits Shive’s forces had dug were filled with the dead and dying, and their screams rang in her ears as she fought on, desperately struggling to keep the upper hand despite the fact that her legs trembled and her back ached continually.

  Oran stayed close to her side throughout, and on more than one occasion insisted she should retire from the fight.

  Shive stubbornly refused. “I'm in charge, and we need every warrior we can get. I just can't leave. Not while I still have strength to wield a sword. Look out! They’re coming again!” Shive warned the men in the front line as the O’Rourkes made a fresh assault. For the hundredth time she wished with all her heart that her husband was with her. Surely he couldn't hate her so much that he would just leave her there to die?

  The arrows had by this time begun to run out, and even the supply of rocks had dwindled almost to nothing. All the men began climbing down from their vantage points to place themselves behind the main barricade. They all drew their swords in readiness for the final attack, as the O’Rourkes made a last desperate attempt to break through the barricade and swarm through the pass.

  Shive felt fear for the first time as the O’Rourke men charged. She had hoped to see Tiernan at the battle by now.

  He wasn’t coming.

  Maybe he really was already dead.

  She fought back the sick sensation at the pit of her stomach. She couldn't give up hope. Even more grievous than thinkingTiernan might be dead, or not being willing to forgive her for what he believed she had done, was the thought that once the O’Rourkes broke through Maumkeogh, all the lands and peoples to the south would be slaughtered or enslaved because of Muireadach’s greed.

  So Shive fought on, swinging her sword like the grim reaper as she killed man after man in an effort to save the home and family she had come to love. With each swish of her blade she pleaded with the Lord to preserve her strength just a bit longer. Long enough to see Tiernan one more time.

  At last, however, even her impressive fortitude began to fail. Just when Shive thought she couldn’t lift her sword any more, she heard horses’ hooves thundering up the pass.

  Fearing they were O’Rourke reinforcements, Oran tugged her out of the way. But when Shive wiped the sweat from her brow and squinted up into the sunshine, she recognized the long billowing ebony hair of her beloved husband.

  She shouted loud enough for all to hear, “It’s Tiernan! Tiernan!”

  The O’Hara clan, encouraged and reinvigorated by the news, began to hack at the foe even more furiously. Many of the O’Dowds, knowing they had taken on more than they could cope with, tried to flee northwards out of the pass. The fresh band of Tiernan’s troops followed in close pursuit.

  Shive could only catch a small glimpse of her husband before she was once more propelled into the thick of the fighting. She fought on like a lion despite the overwhelming odds.

  Suddenly she felt a searing pain in her leg and side simultaneously. Before she could regain her balance, her assailant punched her hard in the jaw. Shive collapsed with a groan and felt herself tumbling down into a dark abyss.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Shive, clutching her wounded leg, dropped off the barricade and onto the ground with a heavy thud. Her leg had been slit open from the knee to the thigh by a slicing blow from her enemy’s sword. The fall had not only knocked the wind out of her, but had sent stabbing pains though her side.

  Gasping for breath, Shive crawled under one of the branches which concealed the caves and lay dazed as wave after wave of pain washed over her. Tugging off her tunic, she managed to shred her shirt into a bandage which she tied tightly around her leg. She could see from the way the blood soaked though the cloth rapidly that she was badly injured. She tied the strips of fabric as tightly as she could, put on her tunic again, and lay down to rest at the back of the cave, hopefully out of sight of anyone who might look under the overhanging branches out of curiosity.

  Outside in the center of the pass the battle still raged on. Shive could dimly hear Tiernan’s voice shouting out orders to the men. She prayed that the O’Rourkes hadn’t broken through. Once or twice she tried to peer out from her hiding place to see which way the tide of battle had turned. But every time Shive moved, shooting pains stabbed through her side, and she lay back wearily.

  At one point she must have lost consciousness from her injuries, for when Shive next awoke, she heard nothing but groans and the soft sound of footsteps walking through the pass.

  She recognised Oran’s voice, and called to him, “Oran, I’m here!” as another shooting sensation gripped her in a paroxysm of pain.

  “Shive, thank God. We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Oran exclaimed in relief as he peered into the dark cave.

  But then he noticed the bandage, which show stark white and crimson against the black of Shive’s breeches.

  “My God, Shive! Your leg! How bad is it?”

  “Pretty bad, Oran, but worse still, the baby is on the way.”

  “Are you sure?” Oran gasped.

  “I’m certain. It’s been going on for hours. I would have called for help, but I swooned,” Shive panted as the sweat rolled down her face and she shuddered in agony. "And I had no idea who was out there."

  “I must go get you some help!”

  “No, no, it would only take away attention from the other wounded. I could be like this for hours.”

  “But you’re wounded as well,” Oran pointed out as he uncovered the leg, and saw that it was still bleeding despite her attempts to bind it up tightly.

  “You’re going to have to help me then, Oran. We need to sew up the leg. Is there a fire, and some wine and water anywhere?” Shive asked practically, though she was afraid she might actually swoon again.

  “I’ll see what I can find. Then I’m going to try to find your husband.”

  “No, there’s no point!” Shive almost shouted. “Tiernan wouldn’t want to see me, not after everything. And I don’t want him to see me like this!”

  “Don’t be silly, Shive, Tiernan is the father of your child. Surely no matter how angry he is with you, he cares about his own baby being on the way!”

  “That’s just it, Oran. I never did get a chance to tell Tiernan about the baby,” Shive confessed.

  Oran shook his head. “I don’t understand. How could you have been married to him for so long and him not know you’re pregnant?”

  “I hid it from him. Don’t look at me like that, Oran. Try to see it from my point of view. It was bad enough Tiernan felt obliged to marry me for dynastic reasons. I didn’t want Tiernan to stay in the marriage simply because of the child. He told me the day I was inaugurated as tanaist of my sept that he didn’t want children. Not ever. I didn’t know what to do. He asked me to return home with him to Castlegarren, but he didn’t know about the baby. If he had known, would he have asked me to resume the marriage?

  “So I hesitated, though I wanted to go back home to him more than anything in the world. I wanted him to stay married me for me, for myself, for love of me, or at least regard, not because he felt he had to. But when I was on my way home to tell him, Muireadach captured me. The rest of course you know. Please, Oran, say nothing to Tiernan. It would only distract him from his duties even if he did care.”

  “Of course he cares!” Oran insisted. “He’s not inhuman, is he?”

  “Don’t be so sure he does care! Muireadach’s little plan has probably damaged any chance we might ever have had of getting back together as a married couple,” Shive said with an air of forlorn resignation, then braced herself as another ripple of pain flowed through her belly.

  Oran shook his head and sa
id firmly, “Not if I can help it, Shive. You stay there, and try to rest. I’ll go look for some supplies. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Shive sat in the deepening twilight in her small cave, and suddenly realized that she hadn’t even asked about the outcome of the battle. She could hear the groans of the wounded and dying, and a burning felt rage at the injustice of it all. They hadn’t asked for this fight. Why did the O’Rourkes persist in persecuting them? Even worse, why was she so unlucky as to be lying there helplessly when she could have been out taking care of her dying comrades?

  Shive tried to crawl out of the cave to lend a hand and give comfort to the dying, but her leg was numb and nearly useless, and the pains in her stomach were getting sharper and more insistent.

  Shive began to grow fearful that with the early labor, both she and the baby were in danger. Her mother had died in childbirth, as had Tiernan’s. It was more than likely after the terrible treatment she had received in Mahon’s castle that the baby might not be fully normal. As her fears grew, and the pain increased, Shive knew she had to frame a clear decision in her mind.

 

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