Safe Home (The Tipperary Trilogy)

by William Patterson

  Michael pulled Morna close to him, he needed to feel her warmth.

  ‘Yer ooncle’s roight, Mikey,’ she said, softly. ‘Ya don’ know how ‘e feels.’

  Mikey tried to pull away but she held him close. ‘He has no more feelings than that sabre he used today,’ he said, sulkily.

  ‘No, love, yer wrong. Oy’ve seen men loike yer Ooncle Robert. Me Da wuz one o’ dem. When ya beat on a piece a hot iron wit’ a hammer long enoof, it gets hairder. Loife beats men. It makes ‘em haird, boot brittle. Me da had me mam to help soften ‘im. Yer Ooncle Robert’s got nobody.’ Michael kissed his wife softly on her forehead, she was right. Morna had seen something in Robert that he hadn’t. He went out to look for his uncle.

  He found the old man sitting on a stone, looking out into the blackness of the night. As he approached him in the dark, he saw that Robert had his hand on the butt of the pistol which he had tucked under his belt.

  ‘Careful, boyo! You don’t want to be sneaking up on a dangerous old man like that!’ Robert let go of the pistol and showed his upturned palms.

  ‘I’m sorry, Uncle. It’s just that, sometimes, when I think about me da, I get so damn angry.’

  ‘So do I, boyo, that’s how us Irish are. When we feel powerless and desperate, we turn it into something we know how to deal with … anger. Let me tell you something about me and your father. There really wasn’t that much difference between us, we both needed someone. He had your mam and I had him.’

  Mikey was taken aback. His uncle was the High Sheriff of Ormond and, in a way, he wielded more power than even the wealthiest of the gentry. Surely he didn’t need anyone.

  Robert continued. ‘You know, it was no accident that I used to visit Gortalocca a couple of times a month, or that Liam and I would take walks alone in the forest, sometimes for hours. He understood me and he knew that there was a time to give advice and a time to just listen. Everyone needs that.’

  Robert’s voice cracked a little and, even in the darkness, Mikey could see the old fellow’s eyes glisten. If it had been anyone else, he would have put his arm on their shoulder, but this old man was still a formidable presence and Mikey was sure he’d resent it. So he did as his father would have done and he just listened.

  ‘Those two Frog soldiers I killed this afternoon. You think I don’t care and you’re entitled to think whatever you want. Your father always said that perception is more powerful than reality, and he was right. I feel guilt for it. I feel guilt for all the men I’ve slaughtered over the years and God knows there’s been plenty of them. But I’m not an animal. People say it gets easier each time, but as I get closer to the end of my life, it gets harder. If there had been any way to get past those two without killing them, then I wish I knew what it was.’ He shrugged his shoulders and looked out into the darkness again.

  Michael knew it was his turn to speak. ‘If you’d arrived a day later, Uncle Robert, me and Morna would have blundered straight into those two soldiers. I’d be dead and God only knows what would have happened to her.’ Robert nodded, but said nothing, and Mikey changed the subject. ‘You never told us the plan to get back home.’

  Home, thought the old man, what a comforting sound that word had. His own home, for so many years, had been the spartan room connected to his office in Nenagh and he envied Liam, who had known what the word really meant.

  ‘The plan’s flexible, Mikey,’ he replied. ‘It all depends on the circumstances. This morning I intended for us to stay in the mountains through the Boggeragh, then head north to Mallow, where the three of us would board a stagecoach bound for Nenagh. But I’ve re-thought the plan now and I think it’s best if I get you both to Killarney, put you on a stage, then go back and help Ned. I’ve been thinking about him all afternoon. We all owe our lives to that man, and I can’t leave owing a debt like that. Tomorrow, we head westwards. Now leave me alone with my demons. You go back and make love to your wife.’

  *

  Ned got the saddlebags from the dead Prussian’s horse and went through their contents, stuffing a lump of cheese he found into his mouth. The German had all the implements a hunter could want, including a small telescope. Ned smashed it with a rock.

  ‘Ya won’ be needin’ dis t’ing anymore, bucko,’ he said to the corpse. He found a horse pistol and he threw it on the ground. ‘An’ dat ain’t mooch use t’ me. Oy cootn’t hit a wall in a small room wit’ one a dem t’ings.’ He pulled the jaeger rifle out of its scabbard on the side of the saddle and admired it. It was a piece of art, with images of heroic hunting scenes carved into the walnut stock and inlaid engraving on the metal. ‘Betcha dis cost ya more’n a few shillin’s, ya sausage-eater.’ He threw that on the ground too, then he had an’ idea. ‘Oy t’ink Oy’ll leave a present fer yer mates,’ he said, still addressing the dead man. ‘Ya don’ talk mooch do ya? Dat’s good, cuz den ya can’t tell’em what d’ priest from hell is gonna leave.’ Ned took the rifle and removed the lead ball with the worm on the end of the ramrod. Then he packed a triple load of powder, followed by two balls on top. He put the rifle back in the scabbard and put them on the ground next to the dead fellow. ‘Hold yer whisht, now, don’t be tellin’ dem blokes aboot me surprise.’ Ned picked up the large pistol he had discarded and put it back into the saddlebag, then mounted the big horse and galloped westwards. He had one more day to keep the Prussians occupied, then he could go down to the Beara and make his escape.

  *

  A little after noon, there was a loud knock on the door of the inn which Captain Grey had commandeered as his headquarters in Ballingeary. His man servant, Jacob, ushered the lieutenant inside.

  ‘Well?’ Percy asked expectantly. ‘Have you got good news for me?’

  The adjutant cleared his throat. ‘I have news, sir,’ he said.

  Percy leaned back in the cushioned chair which he’d brought by coach from Glengarrif. He clasped his hands together behind his scraggy neck and waited.

  ‘Well?’ he screamed finally. ‘Are you deaf or just dumb? Give me the bloody report, man.’

  The adjutant cleared his throat again. ‘Uhh…well, sir… two of the French pickets we put on the crossing near Inchee Bridge were found dead last night. Their throats were cut and it looks like they took a beating.’

  ‘As I suspected. The priest and the rebels headed north.’ Percival Grey lunged forwards and slammed both his hands on his desk. ‘And that’s why we put the blockade there, you imbecile, to stop them! Well we’ll set up another one, further north this time.’

  ‘Well…uh… no, sir…’ stuttered the young man. ‘The … ehhh….’

  ‘Well? Spit it out, man. You’re one of his majesty’s officers’

  ‘Well, sir … it seems the priest has headed south now.’

  Percival was baffled for a moment, then he leant forward. ‘The jaegers should have run him down by now.’

  The young lieutenant could feel the sweat run down his back. ‘The priest has unhorsed three of the jaegers. He led them into a trap … sir.’

  Percival’s blood had begun to boil. What manner of priest was this? ‘So the Prussians have lost five horses in two days? Well then, let the bastards walk! Now, have you got any more good news for me?’ he said sarcastically.

  ‘Uhm, sir… one of the jaegers suffered a fractured thigh during the ambush and the surgeon is amputating his leg.’

  ‘Well that one can hop! What about the fourth horseman? He should’ve been able to catch the priest.’

  ‘It seems he did, sir … the priest killed him.’

  That was the last straw and Percival blew his top. ‘What kind of priests do they have in Tipperary?’ he screamed. ‘What about his sacred bloody commandments? The fourth one for a start … Thou shalt not kill!’

  ‘That’s the fifth commandment, sir.’

  ‘THAT is insubordination, lieutenant! Get out of my sight!’

  The adjutant turned smartly on his heels and left the office, letting the door slam behind him. When he got ou
tside into the fresh air, he inhaled deeply. He could hear Percy ranting from behind the closed door. He had exploded like a volcano and had heaped all his wrath upon poor Jacob. The lieutenant was tempted to intervene but he suppressed the urge. Jacob belonged to the captain and he could do anything he wanted to the old man, short of killing him. Percival beat poor Jacob with a riding crop until there wasn’t an inch of his head or shoulders which wasn’t reddened or lacerated. Then he threw the old man out and cursed him for bleeding on the floor. Percy sat down and had more than one drink.

  *

  CHAPTER 30

  A wind had whipped up and Robert felt the chill, even through the brat he wore. He decided he’d given the young couple ample private time and now he sought to sit by the fire for a while, to warm his aching bones. Mikey and Morna lay sleeping a few feet from the glowing embers. They had a blanket over them and they looked warm and comfortable. Robert felt the cold seeping through his body, the chill due partly to the falling temperatures but intensified by a sense of the unknown.

  He held his palms out to face the coals, then rubbed them together. He glanced over to where the young couple lay and saw that the girl had her eyes open and was watching him. Her red hair was no longer tied tightly back and it fell loosely around her neck. She looked even younger than her years and the old man suddenly felt very protective of these two young people. Morna lifted Mikey’s arm, which had been draped over her, and she gently pulled back the blanket which covered them. Robert averted his eyes because he didn’t know if she was clothed. The girl straightened out her simple dress of homespun wool and tucked the blanket around her sleeping husband. She padded over to Robert on bare feet and asked did he mind if she sat next to the fire with him. Robert motioned his head to a place near the fire and Morna sat with her knees pulled up, her forearms resting on them.

  ‘Oy’m frightened,’ she said.

  Robert closed his eyes. ‘So am I.’

  Morna looked up at the old man with her soft green eyes. ‘Oy can’t believe dat. Oy saw how ya dealt wit’ dem soldiers t’day.’

  ‘I promise you I was frightened. I was afraid what would happen to you and the boy if the plan failed.’

  ‘Den yer not afraid o’ dyin’?’

  ‘I’m afraid of that too. If there is a God, then he’ll surely send me straight to hell.’

  ‘Mikey says if ya do somet’in’ t’somebody wit’ d’ intent t’ do hairm, den it’s a sin.’

  ‘That sounds like something his father would say. If that’s true, girl, then I have a lot to repent for. I fully intended to kill those two poor fellows today.’

  ‘But ya believed dat you were doin’ it t’ save us.’

  ‘Yes, my dear. I was too stupid to think of a better way. I’m afraid stupidity may be a sin.’

  Morna changed the direction of the conversation because she knew the old man was suffering and it made her uncomfortable.

  ‘Oy’m scared dat Moichael’s mam won’ loike me.’

  Robert managed a smile. ‘Ah, Roisin is a formidable woman alright, but you’re no shrinking violet either. You went and showed yourself to those Frog soldiers today and you did it without hesitation.’

  ‘But Oy w’s scared shiteless, Ooncle Robbie.’

  The old man chuckled to himself. Only Liam would’ve had the audacity to call him Robbie.

  ‘Then that makes two of us who were scared shitless, Morna.’

  Morna was glad to hear the fierce old man call her by her name. ‘Ya need t’ get some rest, now, Ooncle,’ she said, kindly.

  ‘Don’t you worry about me, m’dear, you go back and get some sleep. Us old men don’t need as much sleep as you young people.’

  Robert stayed awake and worried about Ned and he had good reason for concern. Ned had become so sure of himself that he was about to get careless.

  *

  Ned had promised the sheriff he would run the Prussians in circles and so, after he’d jogged the horse westwards for an hour, he turned and continued northwards for another hour. He wanted to find the two hunters who Robert had put on foot, days before. When he turned back towards the east, he saw that the remaining jaegers had built a fire and all four of them appeared to be sitting around it. He felt a little uneasy because that was the bait he had used, so he gave them a wide berth and started south again. Ned was happy enough when he was the one playing games, but he was uncomfortable when the tables were turned on him.

  The sun was just rising over Ned’s left shoulder when he heard the telltale boom of a musket shot. A second later he heard a buzz, like an angry wasp, go past his head.

  ‘Ooo! Ya sneaky bastards. Dat w’s close.’ He spurred the tired horse into a gallop and, a few seconds later, there was another shot followed by a thumping noise as the projectile hit something with a sound like a drum. The horse stumbled and sank to its knees. Ned picked himself up and tried to look into the sun, where the shots had come from, but he couldn’t see a thing through the glare.

  ‘Now ya killed yer own feckin’ harse, ya eejits!’

  He grabbed the sack of food and weapons from the saddle and tried to find cover. Before he did, he heard a mighty explosion, then silence. He crouched low, running into the bottom of a ravine and heading south. His heart pounded. The sheriff had warned him about the prowess of the Prussians and he had become so carried away with the success of his tricks that he had lost his focus.

  With only the thought of escape now running through his mind, he made a quick estimate of how far away the enemy was, probably two hundred yards, and that was well within the range of a rifle shot. He kept on going forwards, pushing his tired legs to their limit. He needed to gain distance if he was to get himself out of the mess his own immaturity had landed him in. He jogged for almost two hours. Before crossing each ridge, he furtively poked his head up and used the spyglass to check behind him. He thought about throwing the heavy horse pistol away. He could make better time if he only carried the knife, the small gun and the food. As it turned out, Ned needn’t have worried. Whilst the best of the Prussian marksmen was getting the range, another man was passing the rifles to him and, when he fired what he intended to be a mortal shot at his prey, he used the rifle which Ned had spiked with the extra powder and ball. When the breech of the gun exploded, it took most of his jaw, destroyed what had been his face, and blinded the man who had passed the weapons with shards of steel.

  Ned sat beside a stream which fed into the Glengarrif River. He quenched his thirst, ate some of his food and decided he would dispose of the heavy weapons and that way, by tomorrow, he could be down on the Beara. He knew that the refuge there, in the Caha mountains, would be his means of escape. He was just about to throw the pistols into the river when a thought occurred to him.

  He tore a strip of yarn from the hem of the priest’s clothes. He would make a booby trap to obscure an actual one. He put almost all the powder in the barrel of the horse pistol along with a couple of lead balls, and he tied a bit of string to a stone and buried it in the stream bank, so that only a little of it protruded above ground. He tied the string to the trigger of the cocked gun and placed a little flat stone over the trigger guard, to mask the cord. He tied the small gun to a bush on the path which led to the water’s edge, then he tied a heavier, more visible cord to the trigger of that one, stretching it so it would be clearly visible to someone coming for a drink at the brook. Next, he placed the bag of powder and lead balls over the lock of the big gun so that the cocked hammer couldn’t be seen. He headed to the Beara peninsula, by way of Rossnagrena, to lose himself.

  *

  It was morning when the courier galloped into Ballingeary and sought out the second-in-command. The lieutenant read the note, crumpled it up in his hand and let it fall to the ground. He hadn’t seen his commanding officer since yesterday, but now he was going to have to deliver the news to the captain and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He knocked and the door was opened by poor Jacob. The man had been beaten severely and was in
a pitiful state. The captain sat behind his desk and was also a sorry sight. He hadn’t taken his uniform off for two days and there were stains on his blouse from everything he’d eaten or drank. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and the young officer thought he looked even more like a ferret than usual.

  ‘Tell me you have some good news today,’ he slurred. Percival Grey had begun the day the same way as he ended the previous one and the decanters on his desk were nearing empty.

  ‘The jaegers have sighted the priest, sir. They even got a shot at him.’

  Percy looked as if he might either fall asleep or pass out. ‘Did they get him?’

  ‘Not exactly, sir.’

  Percival stared at his adjutant vacantly for a moment, while his brain tried to process the information. ‘Well what the bloody hell does that mean, you moron? Every time you come in here, things get worse.’

  ‘I’m just the messenger, sir.’

  ‘Well give me the bloody message then!’ The captain shook his head, as much to clear his brain of cobwebs, as in disbelief at the incompetency he had to tolerate.

  ‘They shot the horse out from under him, sir.’

  Percival smiled the smile of a simpleton. Some spit hung on his bottom lip and the lieutenant couldn’t take his eyes off the drool, which was destined to join the other stains down the front of his shirt. ‘Well, that’s good news then, lieutenant.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The young officer tore his attention back to his superior, who was unravelling before his eyes. ‘It is good news, sir. But in the process, they lost two more jaegers.’

  The captain stood up, staggered back, then fell into his chair. ‘Wait. How can we lose two men who are shooting at another man?’