O'er The River Liffey (Power of the Matchmaker)

by Heidi Ashworth

  He went to examine the culprits, most of them his personal property, as a pretext to stand by her side. “I am astonished to know that you have read so widely.” He ran his fingers across the spines until he found the book he sought, pulling it out for her approval.

  “Shakespeare’s Macbeth; I have read that, as well,” Miss Fulton said.

  “I saw it performed when I was in Scotland this winter past. What do you make of Banquo’s words?”

  Her expression was indecipherable. “‘And oftentimes,’” she softly quoted, “‘to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray us in deepest consequence.’”

  Her perception astounded him. “Yes,” he said, laughing his pleasure. “Exactly the words I had in mind. Will you assist me to settle the lads?” he asked, holding his arm out to her. “Once they are asleep, perhaps you might tell me what you believe Banquo meant by such words.”

  She placed one hand on his arm and with the other slid the volume of Shakespeare from his grasp. “My evening has been rescued,” she said, her expression one of utter contentment.

  His chest swelled with happiness; to have pleased her was the happiest of consequences. “If they quickly fall asleep, there might be time for the story I have been meaning to tell you, as well,” he suggested.

  Her answering smile, as they walked into the nursery, was full of promise. Releasing his arm, she went directly to sit on Christopher’s bed.

  Niall decided that Charles would take offense at such infantile treatment and perched on the chair beside his bed. “Who is ready to sleep?” he asked.

  “Not I,” Charles said with an unnerving promptness. “If I do, I shall wake in the morning to find Miss Caro gone.”

  “I shall not be far, little one,” Miss Fulton replied. “I shall only be in my own chamber, on the floor just below this.”

  Niall’s gaze flew to hers. She said nothing as to whether or not she suspected the truth regarding the placement of his bed just above hers, but the glint in her eye made him uneasy.

  “The schoolroom is far nicer with Miss Caro in it,” Christopher artlessly revealed.

  Niall held her gaze in his own as he replied. “Indeed, it is. I wonder why that is so.”

  She blushed and looked away. However, despite her efforts, she could not hide her smile.

  “It is because she made everything so tidy,” Charles stated. “Also, she has pretty eyes and pretty hair, and I like her gown.”

  “And she is always smiling,” Christopher added. “Smiles are lovely, are they not, Mr. Doherty?”

  Niall could not restrain a grin in response. “Indeed, they are, especially on Miss Fulton. Now, is it a story you’ll be having tonight?”

  “I don’t think so,” Charles said slowly. “I should prefer a song; a duet by you and Miss Fulton.”

  “Yes!” Christopher eagerly endorsed his brother’s suggestion. “Sing songs. Pretty ones.”

  “Are you of a mind, then, to sing with me, Miss Fulton?” he asked.

  “If it pleases the lads, then I shall sing for them, yes.”

  They sang first the tune they had practiced that morning in the music room. For the rest, Miss Fulton knew every tune Niall suggested, perhaps even every Irish ditty ever composed. It only required five for Christopher to nod off and one more to sink Charles into a deep slumber.

  “How strange,” Miss Fulton murmured, “to see them here asleep and all the while a party is going on downstairs. I should be not at all surprised if they still sit at table as we speak.”

  Niall grunted. “And the lads, they are up with the sun.”

  “How weary you must be. I ought to go to my own chamber so that you may retire for the night.” She began to rise from her seat, but he put his hand on her arm to prevent her.

  “’Twould be too cruel!” he insisted in low tones, so as not to wake the lads. “You have promised to remain a while,” he reminded her.

  “Very well. Tell me, though, what you would be doing now if I had gone.”

  Niall relaxed again into his chair. “I frequently spend this time preparing lessons for the next day, or in reading. If it is my afternoon off, I am usually still in the village at this hour when the weather is fine.”

  “Do you have friends you call upon there?” she asked.

  “I have not been here long enough to have made any. I confess that I am usually too worn out to be much company to anyone. Gratefully, Miss Deakin has charge of the lads until time for lessons. However, my chamber is not far from theirs, and they can be quite exuberant,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Ah! That brings to mind a question I have for you,” she said in triumph. “Is it from the school room or the nursery that you lower your notes to me?”

  Niall’s lungs seemed to freeze. For some reason he did not care to examine, he did not wish her to know that he slept in such proximity to her. “It has proved to be a convenient means of communicating, has it not?”

  “Indeed. I had never given much thought to the plight of a tutor or nursery maid until I came to Oak View. There seems to be none with whom to speak of your thoughts and feelings. A man such as you, one filled with a wealth of knowledge, must find it insufferable.”

  Niall could not contain his awe of her continual perception. “It is as if you have read my very thoughts. This is my third post as tutor; it only grows more challenging. But let us speak of other things. Tell me your interpretation of the words of Banquo.”

  “Very well; we know he is speaking to Macbeth.” The bed squeaked as she rose to take up a chair out of the summer twilight streaming through the window. “I believe that he is offering him a warning. Banquo seems conversant with the sort of betrayal that comes of half-truths spoken by those who wish to deceive us, or worse, intend us harm.”

  “I concur,” he mused. Unbidden, the matchmaker entered his thoughts. He could not help but wonder if her words were half-truths, and if she intended evil by them. Forcing her from his mind, he turned his thoughts to the present. “I am ashamed to admit that I think of her as such, but I fear Lady Anne is just such a deceiver.”

  “Perhaps she is, but I shall not allow her to wound me,” Miss Fulton said in spritely tones. “I am afraid, however, of something else. I did not wish to speak of it when the children were awake.”

  Her face, aglow in the light of the fire, was stirred by emotion. He could have happily watched it forever. “Tell me.”

  “It is regarding the sounds coming from the woods. I heard something again this afternoon when I was in the school room. I was alone; Master Charles had taken his brother to... Well, let us say,” she said, adorably flustered, “that he was in need of privacy. When they returned, they gave no indication that they had heard a thing.” She drew a deep breath, and her hands trembled in her lap. “It was different this time, more of a screech or a wail than the thumping I heard before. Afterwards, we went for a walk and spoke with the gatekeeper. He heard it, as well. Mr. Doherty,” she said slowly as an eerie silence settled over the room. “He said it was the banshee.”

  Niall was taken aback. “A banshee? Do they not usually do their work at night?” He was soon to regret his words, as she looked immediately to the ceiling through which a banshee on the roof would be most easily heard. “There is no need to be frightened. When a banshee takes to wailing, everyone is sure to be hearing it.”

  “Then you believe in banshees?” she asked in disbelief. “Old, supernatural crones who wail to warn of an impending death in the house?”

  “Ah, well, I wouldn’t claim to believe in them. Only, if there were one, she would have made herself better heard, you see.”

  Miss Fulton bit her lip and nodded, her eyes wide. “Perhaps you might give me your story now.”

  “I should like that very much.” In truth, he would have been more pleased to take her face in his hands, stare into her unfathomable eyes, and kiss her perfect pink lips. “This story is one that I have not been a
ble to put out of my mind since I told ‘The Children of Lir.’ It is called ‘The Swan Bride.’ As you may well know, the swan has long been favored amongst the peoples of Ireland. It is said that the white swans of the wilderness were the children of the Tuatha de Danaan, also known as the sidhe. Swans are associated with purity, love, music, and the soul, as well as with deities of the sun and healing waters. When the time comes to travel to the Otherworld, it is the swan that aids us in the journey.”

  “Let us not speak of the Otherworld just now,” she said with a shiver. “’Tis ‘The Swan Bride,’ is it? I do not recall having heard such a story.”

  “Then I shall take e’en more delight in the tellin’ of it,” Niall said. “A year and a day ago, there was a king of Ireland who, in his old age, lost his wife. He had naught left but his son called Eoin. As the king was not long for this world, he told Eoin that he must find a bride. However, she must be the right woman, the very one for him. ’Twas important in those days, you see, that a man find the very one who was made for him; to marry her, and no other. The only person who could tell them the truth of such matters was a druid. So, the king had the druid brought to him and the question was put: ‘Who should be the bride of my son?’” It was only as Niall was saying the words that he wondered if such information might prove more accurate from a druid than a wandering matchmaker.

  “The druid claimed that only the youngest daughter of the White-Bearded Scolog could be the wife of Eoin. The druid, however, did not know how to find this Scolog. So, Eoin took his leave and traveled to the home of his foster-mother. ’Twas she who told him of her three brothers who all lived on the same road he must take to find his bride. However, they lived far and away out of Ireland, and were all three murderous giants. ‘But I have the remedy for that,’ she said and went into the kitchen, returning with three cakes made of flour. ‘When my youngest brother comes at ye, ye must touch him on the breast with a cake and then he will be delighted to welcome ye. He will tell ye how to get to the next brother’s house, and he the next. Each must be touched on the breast with a cake, or they shall kill ye. It is the last who will tell ye how to find Scolog and his daughter.’

  “So, Eoin took the cakes and traveled long and far. When he came to the castle of the first giant, a woman greeted him at the door. When Eoin explained why he had come, the woman sat him down to wait. The giant could be heard returning home long before he came through the door. He had a live boar under one arm and with the other he wielded a thorny club. He was that angry and threw down the boar whilst he charged at Eoin. But Eoin was quick, and touching the giant with the cake, found, to his amazement, that it did all that was required. Immediately the giant welcomed Eoin, fed him a splendid meal, and put him to bed on a mattress of feathers. In the morning, Eoin was fed just as splendidly and sent on his way to the second brother.

  “This visit went much like the first except that the second brother gave to Eoin a Curragh in which to sail to the home of the third brother. This last giant lived in a luxurious castle high on a promontory overlooking the sea. After feasting, this giant asked Eoin why he had come, and the lad told his story from beginning to end. ‘Ah,’ said the giant, ‘I shall tell ye what ye must do.’” As Niall told the tale, he was surprised at how much emotion it stirred in him. He felt an affinity for Eoin despite the fact that he was far more obedient than Niall.

  “The giant said that the next day, at noon, Eoin would come to a lake. He was instructed to hide and wait. ‘Twelve swans will land in the rushes,’ the giant said, ‘and remove their orange crests. When they do, the feathers will fall from them, and they will turn into the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Once they have gone into the lake to bathe, you must take their crests.’ The giant went on to instruct him thusly: that he should return all of the crests but one, that of the youngest. To her he should say that he cannot return it until she carries him over the sea to her father’s castle on the Isle of Enchantment. ‘She will say that she has not the power,’ the giant warned, ‘but if ye refuse to return the crest, she will be forced to agree.’

  “All happened as the giant said and soon Eoin was being carried on the swan-maiden’s back over the water to Scolog’s castle. She warned him that every suitor who came to the door was killed immediately and that there was only one way to avoid such a fate. ‘Stand with your head under the lintel, your right foot inside the threshold, and your left foot outside. If you vary from this in any way, he will cut off your head.’

  “Eoin did just as he was told. He was taken to a stable and given a paltry dinner and a poor bed. As he wondered how he was to make a meal of what he was given, the youngest daughter of Scolog appeared. She magically provided him with a delicious meal and a luxurious bed upon which to sleep, and told him that in the morning, he was to turn the bed over whereupon it would shrivel into a little stick which he was then to throw into the fire. He did as he was told and was glad of it, as her father sought him out first thing in the morning.

  “‘This is your task,’ said Scolog. ‘On my property is a lake. You are to drain it by digging through a neck of land two miles wide, and here is the spade to do it. You must be done by evening, or I shall take the head off ye.’ Eoin was taken to the lake, and he began to dig. For every sod he dug out, seven grew back. In despair, he threw the spade, sat down on the ground, and began to cry.

  “That is when the daughter appeared to him with a bundle and a cloth in her hands. ‘Why are ye crying?’ asked she. ‘My head shall be off come sunset,’ Eoin said. She shook her head and opened the bundle, whereupon there appeared a fortifyin’ breakfast for him. Whilst he ate, she dug up some sod, threw it away and lo, every piece of sod jumped up and followed the first. Soon the land was gone, and the lake drained dry.

  “At the end of the day, the girl provided Eoin with a lavish dinner and went away before her father came. He was unhappy to see that Eoin had accomplished the task, and he went away wondering how he could best him the next day. This time, Eoin was required to cut down a huge tree, make enough barrels out of it to cover the field in which the tree stood, and fill them all with water before the sun set.

  “Eoin went to work. The first blow of the ax bounced off the tree and hit him in the head, leaving a great gash. He struck it a second and a third time so that he finally fell to the ground, the blood and the life pouring out of the three gashes in his head. To his great relief, the daughter appeared. She laid out his breakfast as before and whilst he ate, she cut a chip out of the tree with an ax. The chip turned into a barrel and other chips followed until the field was full of barrels. She then produced a wooden dipper and a pail and set the king’s son to work filling them up.

  “As he worked, she told him of what he must do next. ‘My father will invite you to sleep in the castle tonight, but you must refuse. Tell him that you are happy to lodge where you have for the last two nights.” With that, she disappeared. All happened as she said and Scolog again went away annoyed. Eoin went to his lodgings, and the swan-girl appeared once again with his bed and supper.

  “The next day the task he was set was to build a castle out of stone he chipped from a quarry. He was to fill it, also, with priceless furnishings, servants, and luxuries of every kind. Once Scolog departed, his daughter appeared and gave Eoin his breakfast. Then she made one chip with the chisel, and the most grandiose castle built itself, complete with all that her father required. When all was complete save one spot by the hearth, she handed Eoin the trowel and told him that he must do the last bit himself. ‘When my father comes, he will invite you again to stay in the castle. This time, ye must agree. After dinner, he shall throw red wheat onto the table, and three pigeons will come and eat it. My father will ask you to choose which of his three daughters ye wish to marry, and ye must choose me. I shall be the one with the black speck on my wing.’

  “When the time came, Eoin saw the black speck and made his choice. Immediately, the three pigeons jumped from the table and turned into three beautiful wo
men. A priest and a clerk were called, and Eoin was married to Scolog’s youngest daughter that very night. When the festivities were over, Eoin wished to return to his own kingdom, but his bride warned him that it would not be so very easy.

  “‘My father will agree to let us go, but he will follow and try to kill you. Before we leave, he will offer us a horse and shall take you to a field to choose. There will be many beautiful horses, but you must choose the old, gray nag because she is my mother, enchanted by my father.’ So, Eoin was taken to choose, just as she said. When the choice was made, and Eoin was mounted on the horse, the girl turned into a swan and bore the nag with her husband into the air over the mountains and out to sea.

  “When Scolog saw that Eoin had escaped him, he turned himself into large balls of red fire and went off after them. He found them on an island where they had stopped to rest from their journey for the night. When the daughter saw him comin’, she turned the nag into a boat, Eoin into a ragged fisherman, and herself into a fishin’ rod.

  “As such, Scolog did not recognize them and went all round the earth in search of them until he ended up back at his own castle. He started out again and this time, he caught up to them on a different island. The daughter made a spinnin’ wheel of her mother, an old hag of her husband, and bundle of flax of herself. Scolog asked if they had seen a couple on a gray mare and Eoin, as the old woman, replied that they had been seen fifty miles north.

  “Scolog went all round the world again, and when he caught up with them, he saw them in their natural form as they landed safely on the shores of Ireland. Scolog cursed angrily, but he had no power in Ireland and was forced to watch the three of them borne away in a chariot drawn by four white horses. When Eoin brought his wife and her mother home to his father’s castle, the king wept tears of joy. And then he laughed when he realized that he now had, in his old age, a wife of his very own.

  “And that, my dear Miss Fulton,” Niall said, gazing into her lovely face, “is the story of The Swan Bride.”