The route home was long and it took ten days, mainly in wet, windy conditions to complete. The track was often soft and slippery, making progress difficult. The horse lacked enthusiasm for the journey and often stopped to graze in defiance of Duald’s commands. In the daytime, the heat from the horse’s body was comforting, but at night it was cold. Duald struggled to make fires to dry his clothes and warm his body. In his mind, they were conditions to which he had become accustomed during his time with the rebels, but physically, his body now felt cold and fatigued despite his involvement with rebels. He had become less used to such extremes and now started to feel his age. His experience in the wars meant that he was able to make shelters and keep reasonably sheltered from the elements. He did not have a companion to help him and keep him company, but hopefully, such a journey would never be needed again.
Duald entered Garranard from the south on a damp but clear morning. He rode down the street and set up temporary lodgings at the inn while he located his family and also to use as a base from which he would look for work. After explaining to the villagers where he had come from and sharing some tales with a few, he was treated as a hero.
A male Lynott with eyesight was a rare commodity, let alone a gunner of the Welshmen. Word was quickly spreading that the Lynott had arrived in the townland. Duald was a proud man and had to look his best before returning to his family and friends. Once washed and smelling a little more acceptable, he made his way to his parent’s house, where he found his mother. She needed a second look before recognising the man who had just walked through the door without knocking. The old lady had wondered if she would ever see her son again before passing on. She limped up to him and gave a loving hug, clinging on to him at the times when he released his clutch. She would not let him go, elated to have her son back with her and relieved that he still had his sight.
‘Mother, what of my brothers? Are they well?’
‘My son, both of your brothers have been without the gift of sight since the “Daille La”. It was their wish to lose their manhood and keep their sight, but the Barretts insisted in one punishment for all. It was so cruel for them. Their misery has been constant since that day.’
‘What of my father?’
Duald’s face dropped and his eyes began to water as his mother held him closely for a few moments. Her impatience to tell him her story of suffering was too great to hold back.
‘Your father died of the ague about five years ago, my son. After years of blind sufferance, his handicap had been inflicted later in life than most men of the clan. He had never coped with his handicap and struggled to adapt and learn as well as the young ones.’
Duald continued to hold his mother in his arms.
‘My son, I am proud of you. Our family has writhed in the pain. Your brothers both took part in the demise of Dermot, but your father paid the price for the sins of the young. He, like many others, was blinded by the Barretts for a murder in which he played no part and did no wrong.’
‘Duald, without sight, your father struggled to work, he could no longer make shoes and we became paupers; with such little earnings, we were left only with a small amount with which we could barter. We also took charity and leftover food, and even stole from those who could not afford to give.’
‘Where are my brothers now, Mother?’
‘Your brothers are now married with their own families, but they suffered and have lived in squalor for many years, our properties became ruins. In time, the Barretts could not exact the money and goods from us which they had hoped without making us all vagrant. That was little comfort but still taught them a rich lesson no doubt. Your brothers will be glad that you are back but I feel that inside they will begrudge you have all your senses.’
Duald vowed vengeance for the suffering of his family as many had done in the past, but his mother sent him to Niall for guidance and an explanation of the political issues facing the clan. Niall was young when the nine years war started, but he could still remember Duald being taken away by the Barretts for stealing.
‘Duald, it is good that you have returned without harm, but there is no point in seeking revenge against the Barretts. We will overcome them I am sure, but we live in a more complicated time than ever we did. Feuds will only inflict more suffering on us and we need to remain composed and shrewd if we are to emerge from the threat of the English. Our triumph over the Barretts through will soon be fixed through our new alliance with the Bourkes.’
Duald was correct in assuming his return would be welcomed by the Lynotts. He was given accolade and praise in church and by the Nemed for his services to the rebellion as the leader of the Welshmen of Tyrawley. On his first day in the council meeting, he described his life with the rebels to Tibbot and the elders.
Tibbot struggled to understand the written word and the records of previous gatherings as he was still developing his ability to read.
‘Sir, it has been my wish return here to my family for many days. I heard many years ago of the plight of the Lynotts and the crimes of the Barretts. What has been done to avenge them?’
Tibbot looked up and smiled.
At first, while Duald spoke, Tibbot’s head was angled down whilst trying to read documents only half-listening, but then he looked up to give him the attention he deserved.
‘Duald, I welcome you here as a warrior and a man of high faith. You have shown great bravery in remaining with the Irish and fighting with them for many years. As warrior and a man with his eyesight, you would have been welcomed here by all many years ago. I would suggest that the clan may have chosen you as chief in my place had you returned much earlier. Instead, you decided to fight for the Irish. For that, I must endow you my praise and respect.’
‘Thank you, sir, I would have returned to Carn if I did not have with me a great companion, who gave me confidence and saved my life many times. He too was a warrior and a man of good purpose. I have been fortunate and graced with the good company of a hero of the Irish for many years.’
‘Then should he come to these townlands, he will be welcomed.’
Duald left after many discussions, not realising the identity or significance of Tibbot and Emily.
Some days later, a man arrived after travelling from Ballybrannagh to Carn Castle asking for an audience with Tibbot.
‘Sire, I believe that Duald Lynott has recently returned from Cork.’
‘You have been informed well. What is your name and business?’
‘I fear reprisals, so prefer not to disclose my name. I have knowledge of this man and his friend that will be of importance to you.’
Tibbot was in an impatient mood.
‘Do not take me for a fool. I know of Duald, and I know of his good character and involvement with the rebels. What information do you have and what is your price?’
‘Duald has been in the company of the black slave who is said to have had knowledge of your mother. My information will lead you to him.’
Tibbot was shocked by the statement and stood up. He could not believe what he was hearing. The man who had violated his mother could still be alive.
‘Sir, be assured that if you are providing jest, then I am not best pleased.’
‘I tell the truth, I come here today as a man who served alongside both of them and I never failed my allegiance to the Irish (a lie of course!). The man you seek was alive and well after Clontibret.’
Tibbot’s interest grew greater the more he heard the account from Thomas.
‘I am in great need of this information and I will reward you handsomely if it leads me to him.’
‘Very well, sir. The man is now known as Donovan Na Long – the dark man of the ships also known as Cirilo and has for many years been in the company of Duald Lynott. Donovan is a wicked man and must surely be in a place that only Duald knows. You will need to question Duald carefully and without causing suspicion as to your intent and I am sure that he will lead you to the black man. Should Duald know of your intent, then he will
divulge only lies to protect him.’
The deal was struck and it was not long before the meeting was over. Thomas was paid well for the information he had provided, but his motivation for the betrayal was the secret and long held revenge which had consumed and distorted his mind over the years.
The next day, Duald was summoned to Tibbot for further discussions. When Duald confirmed that his good friend was indeed called Donovan, Tibbot looked at Duald in a way that caused him great concern. The questioning became relentless and it soon became obvious that Tibbot had more than just a passing interest in the man. Duald had not yet pieced the information together and was still unaware that Tibbot was the son of Emily Bourke, the woman that Donovan had fallen in love with. Now though, he sensed that something was not quite right in Tibbot’s response. Duald knew that his replies would now have to be guarded.
‘Duald, your story is a great one and this man was truly a good friend to put himself between you and a caliver. Tell me, from where did his name come?’
‘Sir, I do not understand the question.’
‘The name Donovan describes a person who is dark in colour. Was he given this name because he was black like me?’
‘Yes, I can assure you that he is a black man and he did not often speak of his past. I remember though that he told me he was once a Spaniard. He is called Donovan Na Long of the ships.’
Duald sensed that he somehow needed to explain the good nature of Donovan.
‘He is a man both to admire and respect. A man better than me and one I have been proud to have known for many years. Despite being of foreign blood, he saved my life many times and he served the Irish well for our cause and for our people.’
‘And in your opinion, how would he treat his women?’
‘I do not know why you ask, sir, but I am unyielding in my judgment. He respects women and I have never seen him take one either willingly or otherwise. He is a good Catholic and he spoke of great love for a woman of Tyrawley, although he said that he would never be able to return. I tell of a man of high moral and Irish values. Why do you ask me these things?’
‘Please do not be troubled, he deserves praise. Please continue!’
Duald continued with the story of his time with Donovan, while Tibbot traced the events backwards. The more he thought on the possibilities that this man could be the man that raped his mother, the more his agitation became clear.
‘Excuse my interruption, but I think I may know of this man. Did you say he is Donovan Na Long, the dark man of the ships?’
‘He has been serving the rebels since before you were born. He is of similar features to yourself, but you could never have known him and–’
Tibbot then ended the conversation.
‘Duald, I thank you for your account of your service towards Ireland. He deserves to be recognised for his services also. Tell the council, sir, what became of Donovan? Where did he go when you parted?’
Tibbot knew that it was only a matter of time before Duald would become aware of his and Emily’s story. He had to think quickly, if Duald did become aware, then he would suspect his motives and likely refuse to co-operate and reveal his whereabouts. This was Tibbot’s best and possibly only chance to discover the truth and more importantly the whereabouts of Donovan.
‘He is now in service at Dromaneen, working for the O’Callaghans.’
At last, the information that Tibbot needed.
‘One more inquiry, sir. Why did he not come to Tyrawley with you?’
‘I understand that there was resentment because of his love for a Bourke girl. His life had once been threatened and an attempt was made to take his head. He believed that he would be killed if he returned to Crossmolina.’
Crossmolina… the Bourke girl… his mother!
That confirmed it for Tibbot, his mother’s attacker was still alive and still living in County Cork. Tibbot sprang up on his feet and grasping books in both hands, venting his anger. He threw them down and stormed out of the council chamber. Duald sensed immediately that he had said too much. Niall stood up to address the Nemed.
‘Duald! Gentlemen! I must apologise for Tibbot’s sudden exit from the council. I am sure there is good reason. Be sure that I have never seen him troubled in this way and he needs to attend urgent business no doubt. It is clear he is troubled, and I know not why but will speak with him and discuss his concerns.’
If Niall thought that he could reason with Tibbot, he was mistaken. He wasted no time in setting up a small Fianna group of warriors, a fast cart, supplies and weapons. He said nothing to anyone before his departure, including his mother.
Tibbot was a fit and well-trained warrior, but he was not familiar with active combat and killing. He would therefore need help and advice if he was to have this man dispatched. He was prepared to confront a man that may well be more than a match for him.
He selected a small team to accompany him which included a greying Scottish gallowglass from the village. MacCabe had settled in the township some years earlier and as an aging warrior, he had been happy to settle with the Lynotts and was welcomed as a useful worker on the land when so many were blind. The gallowglass was excited at the prospect of hunting a fugitive and he willingly accepted the request to take part in the Fianna. He turned out proudly in his traditional gallowglass uniform of ancient chainmail inar, belt and helmet. He had with him his prized two-hand broadsword. The sword was a huge seventy inches long and weighed over seven pounds. These days, McCabe was not so confident at handling the broadsword and so also armed himself with a halberd that he had acquired from an English victim of the rebellion.
Tibbot was now in a condition of uncontrollable rage. He hastily readied the horses before setting off with the Fianna at speed. Despite Tibbot’s love for animals, McCabe reminded him that the horses would not survive the journey if he continued to drive them at such a punishing pace. They would tire in only a few miles unless he reduced their gallop.
It was to be a long journey across difficult country and one that needed to be paced at a sustainable rate. Tibbot gave orders that no one was to be allowed to come past them without being searched and questioned for fear of any warnings getting to Donovan in advance of their arrival.
It was not long before the word spread through Garranard and Carn Townships that Tibbot was in pursuit of the black slave. Niall rushed to Emily to inform her of the developments that morning.
‘Emily, yesterday a warrior from the rebellion arrived in Carn. Today he has informed the Nemed that he was accompanied by a named Donovan Na Long. He has formed a Fianna and thinks he is seeking out his mother’s attacker. Is this connected with your exile and banishment from the Clan Bourke?’
’For the love of the holy mother, Father, you have got to help me. He is wrong, Donovan is Cirilo and he was my lover, not my attacker.
‘I think I realised that, my dear, which is why I came to you in without any wait.’
Emily grasped the lapels of Niall’s cassock.
‘Father Niall, do you realise that Tibbot thinks the Blackamoor defiled me?’
‘Was that not the truth, Emily?’
‘No, Father, the truth is that we fell in love with each other almost immediately. We sinned and were together with great passion for only a short time. We knew it was wrong, but we were not able to help our feelings. I loved him and I still do. I would give my life now to be reunited with him in heaven with the Holy Mother. He did not force himself on me, but was gentle, kind and I have loved no other man since. I confessed my sins, but I now fear that it was a greater sin by breeding the lie each day since.’
‘Why did you not tell Tibbot the truth? Why did you choose to tell him those lies?’
‘I tried to cope alone after being exiled, but eventually I was desperate to return from banishment. I had been raped by Toothless Patrick and blackmailed by Dermot of Nephin. I had been threatened and needed security for the good of my baby boy. It was the influence of my father on William and James, my brother
s. My father laid out certain terms for my return back into the clan. He would only accept us back, if I upheld that I had been raped by Cirilo, and the baby was a result of the rape. I understand why he did it and lay no blame on him because he spared both our lives and he had the good name of the clan to think of as well as the laws of the English. He did so to protect the leadership, reputation and power of the Bourke Clan and the shame it would bring to us. I tried desperately to be accepted by other clans, but it did not work. Wherever we went, we were looked at with suspicion and hate. Without the clan taking us back, we would surely have perished. I therefore agreed to live the lie out of despair.’
‘Why did you not seek shelter with the Barretts?’
‘Father, I did. For a time I was with them but some tried to take my baby away. They were clearly under orders from my father Walter. Even though Richard Barrett of Ballysakeery was a gentleman and gave us unconditional protection, I could not stay with the Barretts. I killed a man who raped me, because he knew that he could do so without reprisal.’
‘I remember your confessions on your rape and the death of Patrick. You cannot be blamed for that.’
‘But the Barretts would not agree, Father. I would have been accused of the murder of one of their kind. After that, I fought with Dermot Nephin, who blackmailed me for favours.’
The Welshmen of Tyrawley Page 31