The Hart and the Harp

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  They could have a good marriage, Shive decided, if she could match herself to his needs as a wife. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Every man wanted a comfortable home that he could be proud to welcome his family and friends to. Someone with whom he could share the daily burdens of running a large estate. Tiernan would be no different, except that he might also want someone with him on his campaigns.

  Shive’s heart jumped at the prospect. She had secretly campaigned with her uncle and brother and cousins when she was younger, until her aunt had insisted it was too dangerous, even though her uncle had reassured Afric that Shive was the best fighter of the lot. Tiernan had said she was to make a life for herself in the castle along whatever lines would make her happy. Well, once she was on her feet, she would do just that.

  “Are you asleep, Shive?” Tiernan suddenly asked.

  “No, though I am tired again. No, I was just thinking how good it will be when the spring comes.”

  “First we have to get through Christmas and New Year’s in the next couple of weeks,” Tiernan reminded her gently. “But aye, it will be good to be out in the open air once more. I can’t wait until all this snow is gone, and I can go out hunting again.”

  “It may seem ages yet, but nevertheless, spring will come, and with it, new beginnings,” Shive said with a soft smile which caused Tiernan’s heart to skip a beat.

  “You’re in the spring of your youth, Shive. It’s natural for you to be optimistic. As I said, I only hope you can be happy here for the time that you remain with us.”

  “I think I can be, but truth to tell, my lord, I know little of happiness. It’s been so long I can’t really recollect what it feels like.”

  Tiernan’s face closed up, and he nodded. “I can well believe it. Don’t bother asking me what it’s like. There’s been no peace or happiness for me since my best friend was killed, and that memory poisons all else.”

  “Am I poisoned too?” Shive ventured to ask.

  Tiernan jumped so violently at her words that the entire tray went crashing to the floor.

  Shive started from her seat at his violent reaction, and waited for some sort of explanation. But Tiernan just stared at her as though he had seen a ghost for a few moments before rushing from the room without a backward glance.

  Mairead came in a few moments later to clean up the mess.

  “Good lord, whatever did you say to the master? He’s as white as a sheet and almost trembling.”

  “You don’t think he’s picked up my fever do you?” Shive asked worriedly.

  “No, I’m sure he hasn’t. When I asked him if we all ought to be concerned, he said that what you had could not be spread to others, so there was no need for any of us to fear contagion,” Mairead replied as she mopped up the floor with a cloth.

  “How could he have known that, I wonder?”

  “Dunno, my lady, but all I can say is I’m glad you’re better. We were sure you had died several times, but the master refused to give up. He was nearly out of his mind with anger and grief,” Mairead chattered away unthinkingly.

  “But he hardly knows me. Surely you exaggerate,” Shive said, trying to dismiss the maid’s remarks as fanciful.

  “I don’t think so, my lady. The master does have feelings, you know, he just doesn’t show them often. He does care about you, but then of course he ought to. He married you, didn’t he?”

  Shive swallowed her pride and said, “Surely everyone must realize that it is a political marriage. A marriage of convenience only.”

  Mairead rose to her feet and stared at Shive piercingly. “There's nothing convenient about it for him, with you poor and cut off from your family. He could have had the pick of anyone within a hundred miles, yet he chose you. Just remember that before you start doubting the master, my lady,” Mairead said loyally, and left the room with the tray.

  Shive carefully made her way to the chamber pot, and was on her way back to the bed when Tiernan rapped on the door and entered the chamber again.

  “I’m sorry I ran off like that. I had some urgent business that needed attending to. But then I remembered that I had to help you back into bed,” Tiernan apologized quietly as he scooped her up into his arms and brought her safely over to the bed. He laid her down as gently as a child, and then pulled up the sheets and warm sheepskin over her.

  “If I blow out the candles, will you sleep?”

  Though Shive’s mind was whirling with conflicting impressions and thoughts, she nodded. Her lids felt heavy, and in any case, she thought Tiernan required some sleep himself. They both needed a bit of time away from one another.

  “I will, I promise.”

  “I’ll leave the door open just in case you want anything. Don’t be afraid to disturb me. I’ll just be reading or tidying my desk next door,” he informed her as he stroked her short hair affectionately one more time.

  “Good night, Tiernan,” Shive whispered, and fell into a light doze almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Chapter Seven

  Shive’s dreams that night began cheerfully enough, with visions of her wedding to Tiernan, the happy guests, the sumptuous food. Shive smiled in her sleep as she recalled the beauty of Tiernan’s mother’s own wedding dress, which he had thoughtfully provided for her on her special day. Special. Without him it would have been the most shameful day of her life. Yet Tiernan had been kind enough to transform her nightmare into a fairy tale.

  The happy dreams suddenly took on a sinister aspect, with people pinning her to the bed, someone shouting in anguish, and a bitter and vile taste flooding her mouth, going down, down...

  Then there was a swirling snowstorm which threatened to bury her alive. Her father was there, saying she was dead. She could hear a fall of earth on her shrouded body.

  “No, don’t! I’m alive, please, Tiernan, save me!” Shive shrieked.

  At first she struggled against the arms wrestling her down onto the bed. They felt like more mounds of earth burying her alive in the cold, cold ground. But a voice in the darkness reassured her, “I’m here, Shive, you’re safe. Hold on to me! I won’t let you go.”

  One last vision of her father’s gnarled hands tearing at her like bony claws startled her so much that she opened her eyes and sobbed, “Oh, Tiernan, thank God it’s you. Please, don’t let him take me!” She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him close.

  Tiernan was mildly surprised at her enthusiasm at seeing him of all people, but did not dare pull away for fear of upsetting her further. She was still trembling like a leaf in the wind, and he was unsure as to whether she had had a relapse or merely a nightmare, so frantic had been her ravings.

  “You’re all right, aren’t you, Shive? I mean, it was just a dream? You’re not sick or anything are you?” Tiernan asked as he held her close and stroked his hands down her back as she continued to sob against his neck and shoulder.

  “No, it was just a dream,” she panted, her voice becoming thin and reedlike.

  “You’ve hurt your throat again shouting like that. Here, have some more milk, and try to calm yourself,” Tiernan advised, releasing her with one hand so he could pick up the cup by the bedside.

  Tiernan pressed the cup to her lips, and laid her back down on the pillow. All the while she clung to his shoulders, terrified at the images of having been buried alive by her father.

  At length her sobbing and trembling finally ceased, and she lay exhausted. Tiernan continued to hold her hand gently and asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “It was all so confusing,” Shive whispered.

  “Yet terrifying enough to send you screaming like a mad woman,” Tiernan said. “What is it? What did you see?”

  Shive pulled her hand away from his. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  Tiernan relented and stroked her shoulder. “Don’t apologise, Shive, please. Just try to forget about it. Count sheep or something, and you’ll soon drop off again.”

  “I’m all right, really. You can go b
ack to bed now.”

  “Shive, I’m staying right here with you until I'm certain you are asleep again, and I’ll sit here in the chair with you after that to keep an eye on you.”

  “Really, there’s no need. I’ll be fine,” Shive tried to convince him, anxious not to be any more of a burden to him than she already had been.

  “As if you sounded fine screaming like a banshee,” Tiernan muttered sarcastically, running his fingers through his tousled hair.

  “You’ve already stayed up far too many nights because of me. Go back to bed, Tiernan, please,” Shive said as she looked away in embarrassment.

  Tiernan stared at her sharply, then blew out the candle he had brought with him. “There, so the light doesn’t shine in your eyes and keep you awake.”

  After a few moments with him sitting by holding her hand, Shive summoned up all her courage to say, “Tiernan, you must be so tired. If you insist on staying with me, the least you can do is get into the bed and under the covers before you catch a chill.”

  In the distant light glowing from his room she could see him suddenly go very still, and then shake his head. “No, you need your rest, and it wouldn’t be seemly.”

  “I don’t mind honestly. I trust you. Besides, we are married after all. No servant will gossip if they find us together.”

  Tiernan, who had actually been sitting up next door in case Shive should need him in the night, was bone-achingly weary. He promised himself he would leave as soon as she had fallen asleep, but he simply couldn’t resist a few minutes in a comfortable bed.

  “All right, I’ll stay until you nod off,” he agreed, taking off his boots, breeches, and tunic, until he wore only his linen shirt. He climbed in under the covers to lay down beside Shive. He pulled her close to his side for warmth, and with one arm around her waist he was able to check to see if she was breathing evenly.

  But Tiernan hadn’t counted on his exhaustion after so many sleepless nights, and soon fell into a sound slumber. It was only early the next morning that he came awake. The warmth and coziness he felt made him long to spend the whole day in bed, something he hadn’t done in years, not since he was a child, he reflected drowsily.

  Suddenly, Tiernan felt something tickle his bare shin, and looked down to see Shive and himself entwined about each other like a pair of vines. The desire he felt stir within himself, however, was a deep shock to his sensibilities.

  She’s only a child, he told himself angrily, and began to pull away. He was grateful to see that she slept on, innocent of the compromising position he had put her in. But surely nothing had happened between them. He had slept the sleep of the dead for many hours. Surely he could not have harmed the girl in any way.

  Tiernan watched her sleeping, so tiny, so vulnerable to him. Once again he thanked God for having spared her life. In his pain and grief over Fiachra’s loss, Tiernan had never once stopped to consider that Shive might have been in danger. After all, she was still a child, only eighteen, and a female one at that. How could anyone be so cruel as to want to murder her?

  After Fiachra’s death, he hadn’t even tried to find the culprit, so deep had his sense of shock, loss and resentment been after being falsely accused of the crime himself. With Fiachra gone, it hadn’t seemed to matter to Tiernan that his reputation had been tarnished, thus he had never tried to clear his name by discovering the identity of the real assassin.

  But now, looking at Shive with her head of tousled curls, so restful and gentle despite the circumstances which had surrounded their marriage, Tiernan realized he had made a foolish error in underestimating his enemies. An error which had had near fatal consequences for Shive. He had to protect her, no matter what the cost. For surely whoever had tried to poison her on her wedding day would stop at nothing until she was dead.

  Chapter Eight

  The next few days marked a slow but steady recovery for Shive, as she rested in bed, ate the nourishing meals Mairead brought, and was entertained, albeit somewhat strainedly, by her two cousins and Tiernan. Shive and Tiernan were seldom left on their own together during the day, for he insisted estate business kept him away, but often she would look up to find him watching the little trio of friends with an inscrutable expression.

  The nights, however, were terrible, with Shive tormented by the same harrowing nightmares, and Tiernan unable to sleep unless he was right by her side. He had even taken to sleeping with his sword under the bed close to his right hand, so uneasy had he become about her welfare. She never spoke of her terrible dreams, and Tiernan didn’t press her. All the same, it made him feel continually nervous and on edge. More than once he found himself clenching his fists as though he longed to grapple with some unknown foe.

  But life at Castlegarren had a rhythm of its own, and there were still the holidays to celebrate. Christmas came and went for Shive, a quiet one that year for everyone in view of her illness and the fact that they had just had a huge wedding feast. Not many presents had been exchanged, but Tiernan had asked the local dressmaker to make some gowns for Shive, warm and practical, in blue, brown and grey. Early Christmas morning he had come to help her bathe, and then offered her the presents.

  “Oh, Tiernan, they are lovely, thank you.” Shive beamed, before hugging him to her and planting a kiss on his cheek perilously close to his mouth.

  Tiernan held her tightly for a few moments, until she said, “I have a present for you as well. They’re not much but I did make them with my own two hands,” she said shyly, as she went over to her small trunk and pulled out a parcel wrapped in a thin animal skin.

  Tiernan, surprised, was determined to praise the gift no matter how awful it was. When he opened the package his breath caught in his throat. Inside were three of the finest shirts he had ever seen, all lavishly decorated with exquisite embroidery.

  Shive’s face fell when she saw Tiernan’s expression. “You don’t like them,” she stated flatly.

  “On the contrary, I’ve never seen, never owned anything as lovely as these. Look at the little harps, and the acorns and vines. I never knew I had such a talented young wife,” he praised, pulling her to him for a kiss.

  Their lips met for a brief moment, and Tiernan pulled away slightly. But Shive’s violet eyes shining at him made him forget his resolve not to take liberties with her simply because she was so near and available to him, and so damned trusting. He bent his head again, and savored her honeyed lips before deepening the kiss to explore the moist cavern of her mouth.

  Shive clung to Tiernan’s shoulders, revelling in the incredible sensations Tiernan produced in her every time they were alone together. She stroked his soft beard, then the back of his head, caressing the fall of his long hair tenderly, while Tiernan imitated her caresses and ran his fingers though her tumbled curls.

  A tap at the door caused them to break off the kiss. Mairead came trundling in with a huge breakfast for them both, and a bevy of servants weren’t far behind with Shive’s specially ordered bath.

  When they were alone again, Shive could bear the silence no longer. “You shouldn’t have taken all this trouble to let me have a bath up here. Now that I’m well, I can have a bath down stairs with the rest of the household.”

  Tiernan’s brows knit together. “You’ll do no such thing. I will not have you sharing your bath water in a big draughty kitchen with half of the men in the castle running in and out.”

  Shive shrugged. “It’s what I always did at Skeard. I don’t mind, honestly.”

  “Well, I do mind. This is your home now, not Skeard. You are my wife and will obey me, Shive, is that clear? You will bathe up here, and not regard the trouble to the servants. It's one of the privileges of a woman of your rank, and a small luxury I think I can safely afford,” Tiernan said a trifle impatiently.

  “I just wouldn’t want you to think I was a spoiled, vain beauty,” Shive sniffed as she turned her back on him and stepped into the tub.

  “As if I ever would.” Tiernan grinned, and came over to peck her
on the cheek.

  Shive stopped lathering her face to peer at him through one eye.

  “I’m sorry, Tiernan, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

  “I’m sorry too, Shive. I didn’t mean to snap at you, Christmas Day of all days. It’s just, well, I suppose we just have to define your role in this castle one day at a time, don’t we,” Tiernan explained, as he helped her lather her hair.

  “I’ll try to fit in with your ways, Tiernan, really I will. But you seem to think my life was nothing but privilege at Skeard. It wasn’t. It was a hard life, but I still enjoyed it.”

  “And you must understand that as your husband, the last thing I want is for you to have a hard life,” Tiernan replied as he assisted her in rinsing her hair, before starting to scrub her back.