The Faithful Heart

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The Faithful Heart Page 27

by MacMurrough, Sorcha


  “I’ll never leave you, a stor, you must know that,” Ruairc declared fiercely.

  As he felt himself stir within her once more, he made love to her all over again, slowly and thoroughly, so that much later, when she cried out his name for the hundredth time, and he could hold back no longer, Ruairc knew Morgana was right. Their joining and blending into one was like coming home, and they could never be complete without one another again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  At the time he had made his promise to never leave Morgana, Ruairc had been completely sincere. But many hours later, just as he himself was finally drifting off to sleep after their incredible evening of lovemaking, there was a hesitant tap at the door.

  Then he heard Mary call, “Ruairc MacMahon, I know you’re in there. There's an urgent message for you.”

  Ruairc grabbed his clothes, and hastily donned them. He picked up his sword, just in case it was a trap, but when he went out into the draughty hallway, all he saw were Mary, and Anna from the tavern.

  “What is going on here?Anna, why have you come at this hour of the night?” Ruairc demanded.

  “You did tell me, sir, to let you know of anything suspicious that might be happening in my village or through the pass,” she answered breathlessly.

  “Yes, of course, but you needn’t have come on your own in the middle of the night,” he scolded, sheathing his sword in its scabbard.

  “I would have come sooner, only I couldn’t sneak away. Your brothers are assembling their forces all along the borders of Morgana’s territory, sir. I fear even the convent at Kilgarven may be in danger,” Anna revealed.

  Mary crossed herself.“Surely they wouldn’t harm the nuns!”

  “Probably not, though they might be going there to get their hands on Morgana if they believed she were there,” Ruairc speculated.

  “But they won’t move immediately, for they have a convoy of weapons coming down from Lough Swilly and Lough Foyle in the next few days, and they plan to hide it,” Anna recalled the conversation she had overheard in the tavern from memory.

  “Hide it where? Why not just put the weapons in the castles at Carrickdoo and Ardnagreine?” Ruairc demanded.

  “I don’t know, sir.I came to warn you, and to ask if you might come, to see if you might be able to discover more.”

  “Have you come all this away on foot?” Ruairc asked.

  “Aye, I had no choice.The men are going up for the arms now, and there wasn’t a cart or horse to be had anywhere in the village,” Anna replied.

  “You know the land up there better than I after my being so many years away. Where could they hide it all?” Ruairc asked anxiously.

  “If not in any of the castles, then one of the glens would be my guess.”

  “We will have to try to warn all the villages then. Mary, get us some food and horses, and tell Morgana, well, just tell her.”

  Mary eyed him disapprovingly, and with a toss of her head, descended the ladder to the lower floor.

  “Go with her, Anna. I’ll be down in a minute,” Ruairc said hurriedly.

  Ruairc went back inside and donned the rest of his clothes. He wanted to wake Morgana to explain, but he knew full well that she would only insist on going with him.

  He bent over the bed in the dim half-light of dawn, and kissed her on the lips. She stirred and smiled softly in her sleep, and Ruairc felt his desire for her well up inside. But no, he had to go, and with a last whispered, “I love you,” he crept away silently.

  When Morgana awoke the next morning, she reached out for Ruairc, and was devastated to find the bed empty. She sat up, and gazed about. For a moment she thought she had dreamt the whole thing, but as she gazed down at her own nakedness and the dishevelled sheets, Morgana knew Ruairc had spent the night with her.

  She lay musing dreamily for a few minutes more, wondering if Ruairc had gone to the privy or down for some food. But eventually she swung her legs out of the bed, and with an inner fury began to scrub herself clean with the freezing water in the basin. Self-disgust began to take over from happiness, and Morgana tore the stained sheets off the bed and threw them on the embers of the glowing fire.

  Gazing around for something to put on, she defiantly took up her habit. Damn her for being a fool. Ruairc had lied, charmed his way into her bed. He’d said he’d never leave her, and now look. The morning after, only a few hour later, and there she was, cold and alone.

  Morgana consoled herself with the knowledge that she wouldn’t be the first nun who had retreated from a failed love affair, though deep inside she could not quite believe the extent of Ruairc’s betrayal. Perhaps there was some explanation for his disappearance?

  But when she asked Mary, all she got was a freezing stare, and some advice. “Forget about him. He is a MacMahon. He’s the enemy, for all his fine talk. I’m glad to see you’ve decided to go back to being a nun. All this talk about getting the clan back on its feet is nonsense. You are only a child, and a woman. Leave the problems to Finn and Patrick, and go back to where it is safe.”

  Morgana was hurt by the older woman’s criticism, but she could not detect the overwhelming envy that welled up in Mary’s heart.Why should Morgana have it all, when it could have been she and Conor....

  But no, it was pointless to think of that now, and in any case she would get her revenge upon Ruairc, who had murdered her beloved, in her own good time.

  “Do you really think it's a waste of time?”’ Morgana asked, stung to the quick. She thought they had been doing so well. “The clan will never be the same without Conor, as well you know. You would do better to make peace with the MacMahons, before they are given time to move against you.”

  Morgana backed away from the venom she saw in Mary’s eyes, and was greatly relieved to see Patrick and Finn arriving on the morning tide.

  “I don’t understand how, but I think she knows something,” Morgana confided in her tall red-haired cousin.

  “What, you mean about the castles, the men?But how?” Patrick asked.

  “All the food has to be going somewhere.She’s bound to guess, being the housekeeper. But that doesn’t make her a spy.” Morgana shrugged.

  “What exactly did she say?”

  “That I should go back to the convent, not risk any hostilities with the MacMahons, or Ruairc, or else we wouldn’t be able to fall back, to protect the little we have left.”

  “And you, a thaisce, what do you think?” Finn demanded, calling her by his pet name, ‘treasure.’

  “In all honesty, perhaps she's right. Perhaps it is better to make peace now. Our men aren’t up to fight yet, despite all our efforts, and the MacMahon have an army of trained mercenaries on their side. No fight would be best. But if it is too late, then I think it would be best to turn the fight over to you and return to the convent.”

  “Nonsense, all the planning and organisation has been yours from the start. We've been incredibly successful rebuilding all the castles and you've bided your time patiently, waiting to get Dermot and Brendan MacMahon to show their hand. And remember, it isn’t just our men on your side. You’ve also got all the dispossessed MacMahons to help,” Finn observed.

  “Perhaps it's a trick? Maybe they will betray us when the time comes,” Morgana sighed.

  Patrick disagreed heartily. “I doubt it! Many of them have died already as a result of what their own chiefs have done, and remember, the O’Donnells have even supported you, along with the O’Connors. You're not friendless, and they don't want Dermot and Brendan more powerful any more than you do.”

  “Aye, but the O’Reillys still side with the MacMahons, and they could make our access to Dublin and Armagh through the south and east difficult.”

  “The O’Donnells will help with that," Patrick argued. "They helped us time and time again, and with the rescue of our marooned men. Look how many troops we'e managed to get back already, how much trade we have done, once all the misunderstandings were cleared up between us, the O’Donnells, and the p
ort authorities.”

  Morgana blinked and in her mind’s eye, saw herself in bed with Ruairc. She shook her head.

  “No, I think I should go.It’s all finished now. You don’t need me.Father is gone, I’ve done what I can for the family, and the rest is up to you.”

  “Stay because Ruairc needs you, then!” Patrick argued. Where is he, by the way?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me,” Morgana said quietly.

  “None of us have seen him,” Finn replied.

  An extensive search of the castle and grounds revealed that two horses were missing, but no message had been left for Morgana.

  Morgana sat through the rest of the day in a well of misery. He had left her. It was over.

  She went through the motions around the estate, supervising, cooking, cleaning, hunting, but it was as though everything were blanketed by a dull fog.

  Ruairc had left her without a word. She doubted he was in danger. He had crept out of her bed like a thief in the night of his own free will. She had the terrible feeling that he had finally got what he wanted, and had no intention of ever coming back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Day after day passed, until finally at the end of the week Morgana could stand it no longer. She refused to sit by waiting for Ruairc to come back to her. If what they had shared had meant so little, well, she had been a fool, and prayed that one night of lovemaking had not left her with child.

  Her pain and sense of betrayal churned and boiled within her. There was no future with a man she could never trust. She was determined to go back to the convent, so on Friday morning she rose at dawn, and packed away all her belongings and her ordinary clothes in the old oaken trunk she had had since she was a child.

  Checking her coif one last time in the mirror to make sure no hair peeped out, she began to descend the spiral stairs. Amid the bustle of servants, she called for her horse to be saddled.

  She was taking a last look around the great hall by way of farewell, her violet eyes full of tears, when a young woman in torn black rags came running in, and threw herself down at Morgana’s feet.

  For a moment Morgana barely recognised her. “God Lord, it’s Sister Joan, isn’t it?” Morgana gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the woman’s shorn head, and her bruised face.

  “They’ve attacked the convent, killed everyone!” the nun panted, as Morgana pressed a goblet of wine into her trembling hands.

  “Who has done this?Who has attacked Kilgarven?”

  “I was knocked on the head and left for dead, but I could hear people say it's the MacMahons, and that Ruairc, the second son, is now leading them. The Mother Superior was killed, his own aunt, they all say!”

  Morgana sat down on the settle numbly as Sister Joan recounted the horrors she had seen both before and after the convent was attacked.

  “I looked around to see if there were any survivors, but I was the only one. They killed indiscriminately, young and old alike, though a few of the young novices took longer to die,” Sister Joan reavealed in a horrified whisper.

  “What makes you say it was Ruairc MacMahon?”

  “I heard the name mentioned by some of the men. They said it was his fault, he was to blame, something about the convent being in the way of their plans,” Sister Joan recalled dazedly. “I don’t really know any more than that. I’m sorry, my English has never been very good.”

  “Did you see the man, the leader?” Morgana demanded.

  “He was huge, with dark hair.”

  There was no comfort in that description, but Morgana asked one more question.

  “Did they take anything, treasure, silver?”

  “No, it’s all there. They weren’t interested in any of it. They left it all behind. We will need men to come help us protect the place from looters. We cannot allow these despoilers to run away with the sacred vessels of the Church. And I need help too, to bury the dead,” Sister Joan added quietly.

  “I will see it is done. You rest here,” Morgana urged, before summoning Finn and Patrick to come hear for themselves what Sister Joan had to say.

  They came quickly, looking dazed with shock and sleep. They listened in horror at every word.

  Once the terrified nun had fallen asleep in Morgana’s bed, they held a council of war in Patrick’s chambers.

  “I don’t not really believe that Ruairc could have done such a thing. After all, both his brothers are big and dark, though I admit I haven’t seen either of them for a long time,” Patrick cautioned Morgana.

  But Morgana’s mind swirled with doubts. What better way of backing her into a corner to marry him than to love her, then destroy the convent. He had disappeared days ago without a word, and now this. It was all just too much for her to take in.

  “It matters not who is responsible!” Morgana shouted, slamming her fist down on the table. “The point is that we cannot allow it to go unavenged. We need men to bury the dead, and take away the treasure to the next religious house before the MacMahons get their hands on it. After that I want to know what you think we should do.”

  “Are you going to fight then, Morgana?” Finn demanded.

  Morgana halted in her tracks. “Now I didn’t say that. The convent, after all, is in MacMahon territory. If we tried to avenge this wrong, we would be to blame for crossing over the border.”

  “You can’t go back to the convent now, though, can you? Where else can you go? What else can you do?” Patrick remarked.

  “Sister Joan must go somewhere.We can go to one of the other religious houses, though I won’t say which one in case they try to find me.”

  “Do you think that was why it was done, to get rid of you?” Finn gasped.

  “It is possible. After all they didn’t steal anything. Ruairc knew how much treasure was there. It would seem a plausible excuse for an attack, except that the men took nothing.”

  “They might also have wanted to travel light. God only knows where the raiding party is now,” Patrick groaned.

  "Aye, that's the trouble."

  "And how could Ruairc be so unnatural as to kill his own aunt? She raised him like a mother."

  She shook her head, sickened at heart. "I guess we don't ever know anyone's heart."

  “Ask yourself, Morgana, why would they go to so much trouble to kill you, unless you were a genuine threat to them?” Finn remarked suddenly.

  “I’m not sure why they've moved now, or what they think I can do to them. All I know is if they do really consider me a threat, I should get out of the way before more innocents are killed because of me! They could be on their way here now for me even as we speak!” Morgana argued hotly.

  “All right, you can go, Morgana, but before you leave, tell me what to do!” Finn insisted.

  “You know what to do,” Morgana argued impatiently. “Start pulling in everyone from our outlying villages, and fortify the castles. Lock up the food stores, lay in as much fresh water as you can if there is to be a siege. They will try to cut off the main roads, so you must make sure you have heavy escort if you travel anywhere.”

  Morgana began to gather up her bags and headed towards the front door to mount her horse.

  She stopped dead in her tracks as Ruairc came striding into the great hall, his tunic and hose splattered with mud, looking as though he had slept in them for a month.

  Morgana and Ruairc stared at each other for what seemed an eternity across a great gulf of misunderstanding and mistrust.

  He stared at her habit in stunned surprise. “So you were going to go back to the convent after all, in spite of everything we shared?” he murmured bitterly.

  “Except that there isn’t a convent to go back to anymore, at least not my old one. You’ve seen to that, haven’t you? Why are you here, Ruairc? To crow over your triumph? To capture me, force me to marry you?” Morgana demanded hotly.

  He looked at her as though she were speaking a foreign language. “Don’t be ridiculous, Morgana, I came here to warn you. They’ve burnt the v
illages to the northeast, and are on their way here. I couldn’t save the convent. I only found out about it after the attack.”

  “A likely story. Just where have you been for the past five days?” she demanded furiously.

  “Tracking my brothers’ men while they bring their arsenal down here and hide it. It’s on its way with more weapons than I’ve ever seen, Spanish-made by the look of them. We must stop my brothers now, before they overrun the North and destroy the peace we’ve worked so hard to build!”

  “Why should I believe you?It could all be a trap,” Morgana scoffed.

  “Morgana, for pity’s sake, after everything we’ve shared together, can you still doubt me?”

 

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