The Hart and the Harp

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  Shive sensed his desperate need to control the situation, and so she relaxed her tense muscles which clutched at him so fiercely, and let him set the pace. He pressed deep within her, so that she could hardly breathe with the ecstasy of it. But her hips took up a natural rhythm of their own, and each thrust brought their ultimate delight tantalizingly nearer.

  Tiernan licked her lips, her ears, and then moved down to her breasts. She massaged his muscular buttocks with her slender fingers, pressing him ever deeper. As the sensations grew ever more intense, she grew almost frightened that it would never end, and equally terrified that it would.

  “Tiernan, please, now!” she gasped suddenly, arching up against him as she sought the elusive final stroke.

  “Oh, God, Shive!” Tiernan gasped.

  In a blinding flash, the tide of sensation washed over them both. They rode the breakers until at last their pleasure was no more than a gently rippling eddy tugging at them inexorably.

  Tiernan lay panting on top of her, like a man stunned. So overwhelmed had he been by the experience, he wasn’t even sure he could move.

  “I must be heavy,” he murmured in Shive’s ear by way of apology as he tried to force his sluggish limbs to obey his commands.

  “No, Tiernan, please stay,” Shive whispered, cradling him in her arms until his breathing grew more even.

  After a few more minutes of revealing in her warm softness, Tiernan kissed Shive’s brow, and left the bed, making his way blindly to his own room, where he threw himself on the bed and thumped his forehead with his fist.

  “Damn it, I’ve done it to her again,” Tiernan cursed himself.

  But a wicked voice inside his head told him that however foolish he had been, it had surely been the most wonderful experience.

  Chapter Thirteen

  During the remainder of the harsh winter months, it became apparent to Shive that she was slowly winning the battle against Tiernan’s reservations about her youth and inexperience. After their second night together, a few days passed in which he tried to be standoffish, but after another three days, he reappeared in her room one night for heated lovemaking the likes of which neither had ever known.

  Another two nights passed, and he returned to sweep her off her feet and set her soaring once more. After that, Tiernan began to visit her every night for a brief interlude.

  Shive knew it was only a matter of time before Tiernan would stay the whole night with her. It was frustrating having him get up and leaving her so soon after making love to her. She longed to wake up in his arms, to give her own desires free rein, even though they terrified her at times, she longed for him so.

  But she knew she had to be patient, give him time to adjust, as Cian and Ailbhe had suggested. Shive wanted to tell Tiernan that she wasn’t some fragile delicate creature who needed to be treated with kid gloves. Yet to speak of such a sensitive matter again would be to remind Tiernan of their last intimate conversation, in which he had sworn it would never happen again.

  At any rate, Shive had other things to contend with besides Tiernan’s reservations about that part of their marriage. The weeks went by, and Shive’s small businesses began to flourish. As the winter weather at last mellowed into a mild spring, Shive turned her attention to the preparations which would be needed for farming.

  Shive continued to train with the men twice a day, though unbeknownst to Tiernan. Once she had proven her value on the battlefield by besting their champion Oisin in a sword fight, she was gradually accepted as one of the lads.

  Tiernan and Lasaran did not attend the training sessions, but Cian came every day to lend Shive a bit of moral support.

  One day he said, “Why don’t you train the men? Fiachra and you were trained by a Norman warrior. Everyone knows that they're the most skilled and warlike nation in the world after the Norsemen.”

  “Training with the men as a common soldier is one thing. Leading the training is quite another. What would Irial think? He would be mortally offended. Besides, what would Tiernan say if he found out?”

  “I know I would be delighted if my wife had even one-tenth of the skills you possess. Go on, take some of the younger ones under your wing, and teach them what you know,” Cian urged.

  Shive thought about it at length, and eventually agreed. “All right, I will, but only if Irial says he doesn’t mind.”

  The old man was delighted at her offer, for he had seen all of her impressive skills with his own eyes. He could also see for himself how hard Shive was trying to fit in to life at Castlegarren. Let her show what she could do to all the men, and hopefully by the time Tiernan ever found out, the men would be so well-trained he would have no reason to complain.

  So in addition to her other daily chores, Shive took fifty of the younger men in the troop with Cian, Mahon, and Ernin as her deputies, and put them through their paces.

  At the end of April, they were challenged to a contest by two of the veterans from Irial’s choicest troop.

  “We’ll pick our best ten, and you do likewise. The losers have to do the winners’ chores for a week, and help muck out the stables,” Cian declared.

  “You have yourself a deal,” said Oisin.

  Shive frowned. “Really, Cian, perhaps you’re being a bit rash. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “Don’t you see, Shive, if we back down from this challenge, they might have reason to suspect you. To wonder what you are up to. Show them you're a loyal member of this clan now, and a match for any of them,” Cian pleaded in a low voice.

  Shive nodded reluctantly. “I suppose you’re right. But I dread to think what Tiernan will say if he finds out.”

  “He won’t find out," Cian promised glibly. "He’s been in the pens with the animals or out hunting all day for the past few weeks ever since you started this training. Don’t worry. Even if he does find out, I’m sure he’ll be very proud of what you've accomplished in so short a time.”

  “All right, I'll accept the challenge to a tourney. But only on the condition that you fight as well. And if and when we lose, which I think is extremely likely, you can take on my share of mucking out the stables. You'll also have to do my opponent’s chores as well as your own opponent’s.”

  “Surely you aren’t picking me!” Cian exclaimed. “There are better fighters here, Mahon and Ernin, for example.”

  “Oh, they’ll be fighting as well, never fear. But if we're going to get beaten to a pulp, you’re going to right there beside us, suffering just as well.” Shive grinned.

  “Has anyone told you what a cruel woman you are, Shive MacDermot O’Hara?”

  “Not yet. But if you don’t fight now, Cian, I’ll think up a few ways of making you wish you had!” Shive threatened with a playful growl.

  The men were selected from both sides, and the lots drawn to pair them off against their opponents. Then the tourney got underway.

  In the end Shive’s fears were realized, for Tiernan could hardly help finding out about the competition when he next laid eyes on his young wife.

  Shive was brought into the great hall that night borne high on the shoulders of her victorious men like a triumphant victor. Her jaw was swollen and one of her eyes was as black as the frown that crossed Tiernan’s features as soon as saw the raucous behaviour of his men.

  “Shive, in our room, now, if you please,” Tiernan ordered in his most stern tones.

  Shive managed to climb down off of Cian’s shoulders, and walked out of the hall quickly to hide her flaming cheeks.

  The door had hardly closed behind them in her chamber before he bellowed, “Just what have you done to merit such outlandish behaviour on the part of my men? And what in God’s name has happened to your face!”

  Shive shrugged. “We were, well, training in arms, and, er, one of the men got a bit carried away.”

  “Who would dare hit my wife!” Tiernan demanded, his fists clenching in rage.

  “It was a fair contest, my lord,” Shive hastened to reassure him. �
��Please, no harm was done. I was just showing the men some of the things my arms tutor taught me, that’s all. It was just a bit of harmless fun.”

  “Fighting with men! Fun ! For God’s sake, look at your eye! Have you no care for your safety? You could have been injured, nay, killed! What were Mahon and Ernin thinking of allowing you to behave in such a manner!”

  Shive was puzzled at Tiernan’s reference to her cousins, but she had no chance to reflect on his words, for in the next breath he began berating her even more soundly.

  “And what if you're with child already? What if you had miscarried because of this foolishness! How can you have so little respect for your role and duty as a wife?”

  Shive saw he was trembling. With anger? Fear? She couldn’t tell. All she knew was he was glaring at her as though she had committed the most unpardonable offence.

  Shive paused to consider her reply. “Surely I can be safe enough if I know how to fight. You told me to carry on as though I were at home in Skeard. What do you think I did at Skeard all day? As for being with child, what would you expect me to do, sit around for nine months sewing baby clothes?”

  Tiernan scowled. “What would be wrong with that? Is it so wrong of me to want a normal wife? One who dresses like a lady, behaves graciously, beautifies my home? Not someone who swaggers around in breeches beating up my soldiers and coming home with a black eye like a wayward schoolboy!”

  Shive went white. She knew the criticism was unfair, especially in view of the fact that he was wilfully ignoring all she had done to improve Castlegarren in the short time she'd been there. But an unpleasant comparison between herself and the very feminine Orla flashed through her mind unbidden. Her heart sank like a stone. The vehement defence of her actions which she had been about to give dwindled to a small sigh.

  “I shall try to comply with your wishes in these areas, my lord. I’m sorry to have proven such a disappointment to you as a wife.”

  The crumpling of her resistance was visible. He could see his new wife almost shrinking into herself in the face of his harsh criticism. In truth, Tiernan regretted his stinging words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He had indeed noted all of her efforts to improve his home, the food, tapestries. He'd just never found the right time or the right words to express his thanks.

  “May I go have my supper now?” Shive requested in a small voice, standing stiffly in front of Tiernan.

  Tiernan nodded abruptly. “Yes, of course.”

  Shive left the room swiftly and silently, almost scurrying away from him in fear. She had never seen him so angry. It was not an experience she was eager to repeat any time soon.

  Tiernan saw her fear, and berated himself soundly. Really, he seemed to do nothing but find fault with the girl. He knew the reason why. It was because she was so, so alluring. But if he found her to be so, why fight it? a tempting little voice inside him challenged.

  Because she was so young. Because he could never make her happy, being so much older and set in his ways.

  Well, if he felt so strongly about it, then the best thing to do was to simply go back to avoiding her, he resolved. He didn’t have to scold her all the time, now did he?

  Tiernan ran his fingers through his ebony hair in frustration. Avoid her, yes. But then what of all the marvellous sensations they shared in her soft feather bed at night?

  Tiernan shook his head as though trying to rid himself of the seductive memories, and stomped back down the ladder for his meal.

  The company was much more subdued when Tiernan entered the great hall again. He could see Shive, Cian, Mahon and Ernin addressing various men in whispers.

  Tiernan tried to make normal conversation, but he could see many of the men looking at him oddly. In the end Tiernan pulled his sergeant at arms over to one side to demand his version of events.

  Irial thought about repeating the cover story Cian had hastily manufactured in order to alleviate Tiernan’s displeasure when he inevitably inquired into the matter of Shive’s bruises further. In the end he decided Tiernan ought to be told the truth. It surely couldn’t make things any worse, judging from the way Shive sat, the picture of dejection, toying with her food listlessly.

  “The truth is, sir, she’s been training a small troop of our men for the past couple of months. Shive and her cousins and your brother accepted a challenge from Oisin to a melee, and they won. I'll tell you the truth, sir. Oisin gave her no quarter as your wife.”

  “Where is he? I want to speak to him!” Tiernan stormed, bolting from his bench.

  The older man grabbed him by the arm to restrain him.

  “Please, listen, Tiernan, before you lose your temper and do something you’ll regret. I'll admit to you that when Shive showed up for training at first, I thought she was being foolish and headstrong. I honestly tried to discourage her by setting her the hardest tasks with our most able champions.

  “But Shive has a rare gift as a fighter. She’s defeated every champion she’s crossed swords with. Never once has she ever given up, not even when Oisin punched and hit her. What she might lack in strength and size, she more than makes up for with speed, agility, and intelligence. The three together are a formidable combination, one we can use on our side.

  “I’m sorry she was hurt. I know you'll probably say I should never have let her fight in the tournament. She was so desperate to prove herself to the men, I thought she deserved the chance.

  “And I can see that you are angry with her for fighting, but these are hard times, Tiernan. Who knows when she might have to defend herself, or even this castle? I know it's unusual for women to fight, but then nothing about Shive is usual, is it?

  “She’s a rare jewel, Tiernan. I know you’re angry, and worried, but my advice is not to try to tame her or change her because you think it’s for the best. In the end, you would only end up destroying her spirit. That would truly be a terrible loss.”

  Anger gave way to astonishment as Tiernan listened to the tale of the tournament. He could hardly believe that his thin, delicate wife had taken on his champion Oisin and won.

  He could also recognize the truth of Irial’s words, for he had scolded her upstairs only a short while before, and she had crumpled. He had dampened down the spirit within her, and thus ruined her hard-earned moment of triumph.

  Tiernan was not a man to apologize for his mistakes, but he knew he had to do something to set the matter right between himself and Shive. He returned to the head table and pounded the board with his fist.

  “Gentlemen, I propose a toast. To Shive, victor of the melee, and her troop!”

  The toast echoed around the great hall thunderously, and Shive’s head shot up. She met Tiernan’s midnight blue glance across the room, and smiled in relief.

  Tiernan smiled back, a sincere one which lit up his eyes as he drank down his goblet of wine.

  I love him, Shive suddenly thought. He finds me troublesome and difficult, but I love him. What on earth am I to do now?

  Chapter Fourteen

  After supper, Tiernan came to Shive's room to apologize for their quarrel. “I’m sorry I was so harsh, and said some hurtful things to you, my dear. But you must admit I had good reason to be worried about you. You are my wife. I would not see you hurt,” Tiernan said kindly. He examined her eye and insisted on pressing a cool damp towel to her swollen jaw.

  “I'm young and strong, and ‘tis only a bruise. It will heal.”

  Tiernan pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. “My little wild cat.” He grinned, holding her close.

  “Would you like to see me wilder?” Shive purred, as she caressed his broad chest, and Tiernan knew he was lost.

  That night Tiernan could not hold himself back, and made love to Shive passionately twice, before finally crawling out of her bed at about two in the morning. His knees wobbled, and his desire was if anything more urgent than it had been before all the hours of lovemaking they had shared.

  He knew he had brought her joy, but still could
n’t help feeling guilty. “I’m using her, taking advantage of her position in this house to get my own way,” Tiernan groaned once he was back in the privacy of his own chamber, and threw himself on the bed angrily. He clung to the headboard to stop himself from returning next door, and at last fell into an uneasy slumber.

  The next day when Tiernan finally did see his wife again, she was all smiles despite the bruises and black eye. Tiernan decided that perhaps she was contented with her lot after all. He was almost too frightened to ask her however, and challenged her that evening in his usual bluff way.