The Hart and the Harp

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  By the time Oran returned with some wine and medical supplies, Shive was already in absolute agony, and so far as she could tell, the baby hadn’t budged.

  “Oran listen to me, I’m done for, I know it,” she murmured drowsily, the loss of blood weakening her with every passing moment.

  “Don’t be silly, Shive. The birth has only just begun. You’ll have to put up with the pain for a lot longer than this,” Oran declared her as he laid out his things.

  “You don’t understand. The child isn’t moving. I could go on like this for hours, and maybe the cord is around its neck, slowly strangling the life out of it.”

  “It will all be fine, dear girl. Just trust me.”

  “No, Oran, you’ve got to listen to me, please," Shive begged. "I’m badly wounded anyway, we both know it. Even if I live I shall probably lose the leg. Then what good would I be to anyone? No, I’ve made up my mind. Cut me now and save the baby before it is too late.”

  Oran stared at her in horror, and began to back away.

  “Oran, please, you know it makes sense!” Shive insisted, when she saw the look of dismay on her friend’s face.

  “No, I won’t accept it, do you hear me?” Oran shouted at her furiously. “You're going to fight this, and I’m going to help you. Now, first things first. I have some bandages and needle and thread and a fire burning outside. I’ll take care of the leg first, and then attend to the baby. Now, I’m going to cut off your breeches first, do you understand? While I do that and get the knife and the maggots ready, I want you to drink as much of this wine as you can stand, do you hear?”

  “It’s a waste of time, Oran. I know I’m dying.”

  “Don’t argue with me, girl. I saved you from Muireadach. I’m not going to let you die now, not when you’ve come so far. Now drink the wine, and stop bossing me around, wench!” Oran ordered, before handing her one of the wine skins and stomping outside.

  Shive tried to do as he had instructed, but the wine was sour and her stomach rebelled almost as soon as it travelled down her throat. Shive began to vomit violently, and was afraid she would faint again.

  Oran came back in and saw how badly she was suffering. The old man knew real fear as she insisted again, “Cut me! End this all now, please!”

  Being cruel to be kind, Oran brought his fist up and punched Shive on the chin with just enough force to knock her out cold. Then he busied himself with her leg. After cleaning the wound as thoroughly as he could, he let the maggots do their work, eating away the unclean flesh, and leaving fresh pink skin exposed.

  Then Oran seared the wound with a hot knife to stop the bleeding, and sewed the edges of the wound nearest the knee with neat stitches so it wouldn’t stiffen or leave too much scar tissue.

  At last Oran ventured to touch Shive’s stomach, and perceived, as she had said, that there was little movement from the child. But he also knew that birthing a child took hours, and noticed that Shive’s waters hadn’t broken yet. He brought Shive around again with some of the sour wine, and asked her if she had felt any wetness yet.

  “No, not at all,” Shive responded groggily.

  “Well, in that case, we might be able to speed up the baby by helping it along,” Oran replied as he went outside to clean his knife, then wash his hands to ready them for his next office. He couldn’t risk an infection, but nor could he leave Shive as she was.

  “Right, I’m going to burst your waters, do you hear? Hold still,” Oran commanded. Fingers slippery with warm water, he felt deep within her for a moment, then pulled. Shive felt a dull pain, then a warm rush out flow from between her leg. She grew violently ill and began to shudder.

  “There, that did it,” Oran said, sitting back on his heels and mopping his sweaty brow with his sleeve.

  He stayed with Shive for another half an hour, but he could soon see that not much progress was being made.

  Shive once again repeated her requested that he cut her to save the baby. Oran rose and walked out of the cave. Seeing Padraig, bloodied but relatively uninjured, approaching, he ordered him, “Take Shive’s horse, and ride like the wind. Find Tiernan and bring him here. Shive’s very ill, and she’s asking for him.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Padraig promised.

  But after a half an hour, the young warrior returned.

  “He won’t come. The battle is raging down the pass, and Tiernan says that they have nothing to say to one another,” Padraig informed Oran quietly as the old man stood there scowling.

  “Talk, is it! Christ, man, Shive’s dying!” Oran rasped, grief-stricken.

  “D-d-do you want me to go back?” Padraig stammered.

  “No, no, you stay with Shive. Give her water, bathe her face, but don’t under any circumstances do anything else no matter how hard she begs, do you understand?”

  Padraig nodded, though in truth he was utterly confused as to what Oran meant, until of course he went into the cave and saw Shive in the throes of childbirth.

  Oran leaped onto the stallion’s back, and thundered off in the direction Padraig had indicated he could find Tiernan.

  Oran tracked Tiernan down and discovered him in conference with Mahon, Cian, Bran and Irial, as well as some of the leaders of the fighting groups, and he was not in the best of humor.

  “I don’t know how you could have been so foolish as to let them get away,” he was berating his brother Cian. “Now we'll have to worry about all our villages in the east and west.”

  Suddenly Mahon spoke up from the shadows. “Not the east, no, since all of our men and the Vikings are in the villages already, waiting for the enemy.”

  Tiernan stared at him as if stunned. “What do you mean? The MacDermots and Vikings are in my villages?”

  “Shive knew that Muireadach was planning to attack. She fortified the villages with our soldiers and Sitric’s Vikings. Muireadach would think they were just defenseless villages, but they’re armed to the teeth. Their supplies are also well hidden, so Muireadach will get no succour from anyone this far south,” Mahon revealed.

  “So where are all my people?” Tiernan asked suspiciously.

  “Anyone who could fight remained behind. Shive evacuated all the women, children, and elderly to our castle at Aille in the West. They’re all fine.”

  “And the Vikings? How do you know you can trust them?”

  “Shive was very good to them. They've pledged their lives to her, and will fight well against our common enemy,” Mahon said with evident pride at all his cousin had accomplished.

  “So what you're trying to tell me is that the situation isn’t as bleak as I had first imagined, and it’s all due to Shive,” Tiernan said with a quirk of his lips, staring at Mahon intently with his dark blue eyes. “You wouldn’t by any chance be trying to get Shive back in my good books, would you?”

  Mahon opened his mouth to defend his cousin, but Tiernan raised a hand.

  “No, never mind. I think every man in this camp is besotted with her. You all run here to this pass at her bidding, even my own clan, in order to fight the O’Rourkes. I have to admit it’s a lucky thing that you did, or else we might have been completely overrun. So no, I'm not angry with you or her, since you’ve all done the right thing. I just wish people would consult me about things happening on my own land in future!”

  Cian spoke up then. “There wasn’t time, Tiernan. And you wouldn’t believe her or listen to her when she did try to contact you. Which she's been doing for weeks now.”

  “I thought she was going to try to convince me of her ridiculous story about being kidnapped by the O’Rourkes,” Tiernan scoffed, then shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the map he was studying.

  Mahon saw Oran move out of the corner of his eye. “Is the story really so ridiculous? All the fighting today only seems to confirm that my cousin was actually telling the truth!" Mahon said bravely, stepping forward to go toe to toe with the huge ebony haired warrior in a way he never would have dared even a few short months ago.<
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  "Think about it, Tiernan. How did Shive know what Muireadach was planning if she wasn’t really a prisoner at Bothandun! What are you suggesting, that she and Ruairi eloped there together? Muireadach would kill Ruairi as easily as look at him!"

  Tiernan stared down at the young man, anger turning to dismay.

  “It makes perfect sense for Muireadach to have abducted Shive. Think what would have happened to us all if Shive had been captured or killed? Or if she hadn’t been her to lead us all. Moreover, she had written proof, letters in Muireadach’s own hand to Orla telling her to kill Shive! I have them right here in my pouch,” Mahon said impatiently, practically shoving the papers in Tiernan’s face.

  Bran piped up then also. “You owe it to us all to listen to what Shive has to say. Here is Oran O’Rourke, the man who came home with her when she reappeared as mysteriously as she had disappeared. Would you please listen to him? He's a stranger to you and Shive, not a member of either of our clans. He has no reason to lie to protect Shive, now does he?”

  Tiernan glared angrily, stunned by the papers he had read, but not willing to admit he had made a serious mistake. “We haven’t time to enquire into the matter. I need to check the men, and the weapons. And whatever I do decide, I have no intention of discussing it with all and sundry!”

  Tiernan would have stormed out of the small glade, but Oran grabbed him by the arm.

  Tiernan saw his face in the light for the first time. “You’re the stranger who arrived with Shive when she looked so ill. But I haven't time to waste--”

  “Tiernan O'Hara, you must listen to me. You’ve turned away every message from Shive until I’ve had to come myself, though I'm leaving her in great peril to do so. She's injured, Tiernan, and I need to know what to do for the best.”

  “The best about what?” Tiernan barked, trying to suppress his feeling under a gruff exterior. “I know little of medicine. Tend to her wounds. She's young and strong and will pull through.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Look, there’s no easy way to break the news to you, so I’ll tell you straight out. Shive is carrying your child! She has been all these months without you ever even noticing. The babe is coming early. With her injuries after today's battle, I don’t know if she’ll be able to survive much longer. She’s been in pain for hours, and is begging me to cut her in order to save your son.”

  All eyes were upon Tiernan, waiting for him to make a decision.

  Tiernan blustered, “I don’t understand. How could she be--”

  Cian laughed bitterly.

  Tiernan shook his head, and demanded, “Damn it, why didn’t she ever tell me!”

  “She tried to tell you the night she was inaugurated. You told her you didn’t want children, didn’t you!” Oran accused him angrily. “That’s why Shive avoided returning to Castlegarren. She was going to tell you as soon as she got home from Rathnamagh. But then my master Muireadach kidnapped her and kept her prisoner. And you know how you received her when I helped her escape from the castle cellar at Bothandun. You chased her away. So when would have been the right time to tell you?”

  Tiernan blanched at Oran’s words, suddenly realizing what hideous mistakes he had made. “My God, all of it was true, every word, the kidnap, the beatings, the...”

  Suddenly Tiernan shrieked, “I’ll bloody kill him!”

  Cian, Oran and Mahon all had to jump on Tiernan to restrain him from marching off God only knew where.

  “Never mind that now! Shive needs you,” Cian reminded him forcefully, shaking him by the shoulders until he listened.

  Oran nodded. “Get your horse and come. Shive’s in a cave in the pass.”

  “My wife is giving birth to my son in a cave?” he gasped.

  “How do you think this all came about? Did you not see her defending the pass against the O’Rourkes?” Oran asked in exasperation.

  “Oh, God. I never saw her. I thought she was back guarding Rathnamagh!” Tiernan moaned as he strode towards his stallion and mounted it.

  “Tiernan, the battle!” Mahon reminded him.

  “You, Cian, Bran and Irial will have to manage thing without me for a while. My wife needs me,” Tiernan called as he rode away.

  Oran followed close behind Tiernan, and within minutes they were squatting down in the small cave where Shive lay.

  “Tiernan! You’ve come at last,” Shive murmured weakly. “I’m sorry...”

  Tiernan stared at her, bloodied and pale as a ghost, and prayed to God to spare her.

  “No, my love, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Tiernan managed to get out past the lump in his throat. “Oran’s told me everything, and I’ve finally come to my senses. I was just so hurt at the thought of you and Ruairi being together. I was jealous of your friendship, though you’d never given me cause to be, either of you. But that’s not important now. I can see how much pain you’re in, and I’m here to help.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, Tiernan. I wanted to see you one last time before I go. I’ll die more easily knowing you’ve forgiven me,” Shive whispered weakly.

  “Now no more talk of dying, Shive. I won’t let you go, do you hear?” Tiernan rasped, close to tears.

  “Tiernan, I know it must grieve you. We've been good friends, have we not? But it’s the only way. You must save the baby. Cut me and save your son, please, I beg you.”

  “No, I can feel the head coming down,” Tiernan insisted, as he examined her stomach, and reached inside her as he had once seen a midwife do to his mother many years before. “I need you to bear down, to push, Shive. I need you to carry on fighting!”

  Shive began to weep. “I’m so tired of fighting, Tiernan.”

  “I know you are, my love, I know,” Tiernan soothed, pushing the tangled auburn hair back from her flushed face lovingly. “But isn’t all we have together worth fighting for? All my lands and castles don’t mean a thing without you by my side, Shive. Or without a son who can inherit what you and I have both worked so hard to build. You’ve been prepared to lay down your life for it time and time again in order to preserve it. Please, Shive, I can’t cut you. I can’t kill you, don’t you see? Please don’t ask me to do it. I’d rather cut off both my arms than lose you and the baby.”

  Shive opened her eyes wide in surprise. “You mean you’re not angry with me for not having told you about the child?”

  “Though we've been married almost a year, there's never seemed to be enough time in our relationship to do and say all the things we should have. How could I be angry? I love you, Shive. Any child you have, boy or girl, would make my blessings complete.

  “Without you I’m nothing, my dearest love. I know that now. I tried to forget you when you went back to Rathnamagh. Told myself you were a free woman with many choices once you became the MacDermot. Yet I couldn’t keep away. I asked you to come home with me, but wanted to offer you your freedom as well, so I wouldn’t scare you off,” Tiernan confessed.

  “Then when you disappeared, I tried to forget you. God knows I tried. I told myself that you had never cared about me. But the pain of losing you was almost more than I could bear. All this time, I’ve been too stubborn to admit that I love you. Too afraid you would laugh at my feelings for you. If I’ve made things hard because of my stiff-necked pride. I’m sorry.

  “I know you could never love me now after all the anger between our families, and the things I’ve done to you, but you have all of my heart, now and always, Shive.”

  “Oh, Tiernan,” Shive sighed.

  “No, let me finish. I need to tell you how I really feel, for the first time in my life. The truth is, I’m a coward, my love. I can’t cut you now, Shive. I couldn’t bear it if you were gone from my life. Even when I told myself you hated me, or had run off and eloped with Ruairi, a part of me kept hoping I could win you back. But if you die now, all the hope in my life will have vanished. Please, my love, please don’t leave me alone like this,” Tiernan begged as he hugged Shive close.

 
“How could you ever think I hated you, you silly man?” Shive began to almost laugh. “I’ve loved you all my life, Tiernan, ever since I was little girl and you were Fiachra’s friend. I was afraid of you, perhaps, for a time, when you seemed to be so resentful of our marriage, but I’ve always loved you. I couldn’t bear it when you rejected me. When I came home that night from Bothandun, I thought you and Orla...”

  Tiernan silenced his wife with a tender kiss. When he lifted his lips again, he declared, “There was never anything between Orla and myself, though she tried hard enough. But enough explanations for now, my dearest love. I need you to push and I’ll pull. Just as we made the baby together, so together we will help this child to be born,” Tiernan said with a firmness he wished he sincerely felt. Then he made ready the things Oran had fetched.