The Hart and the Harp

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  “What are you trying to tell me? You couldn’t possibly be responsible for this, could you?” he hissed angrily.

  "In truth, my lord, I must take the blame for it, at least in part. My father, he, well, he hired these Vikings as mercenaries, helped them to food and weapons. I found my brother’s shield amongst the dead Vikings here. Then I knew for certain what I had only suspected before, that he is crazed with hate and will do anything to destroy you,” Shive admitted.

  Tiernan's roar shook Shive until her teeth chattered. “How could he hate me so much! I thought our marriage was to heal this breach! Will he never be satisfied until my whole clan is wiped out!”

  “To say sooth, my lord, I fear even that would not satisfy him,” Shive sighed, recognizing fully the implications of that admission for her entire future.

  “And you, you can stand there so calmly, covered in my people’s blood? You’re one of them! A cursed MacDermot! God’s teeth! I married you in good faith, and what has it brought me! A respectable name, an alliance worth having, a full coffer? Nay, my reputation has suffered, and I have naught but a ruined village, a beggar for a wife, and dozens more dead!” Tiernan spat.

  She cringed at his fury and his demeaning words. At her response, so like a wounded animal's, Tiernan immediately regretted his unguarded words. But when he reached for her she hunched her shoulders and drew away as though expecting a blow.

  Appalled at her fear and his own fury, he turned his back to her to take a deep breath and calm down.

  Cian, worried about Tiernan’s state of mind as well as Shive’s, had overheard the last of Tiernan’s outburst, and sought to intervene.

  “Tiernan, you don’t mean that! Shive, don’t listen to him. He’s just upset,” Cian hastened to add, as Tiernan remained with his back to her, struggling with his anger and love, the painful surging emotions he had never before experienced. He loved Shive. Gods above, what a time to find out, when .they were about to be plunged into civil war.

  Cian said, "Tiernan, please listen, There is much to tell and little time. If you only knew what Shive--”

  “Nay, Cian, say nothing now. I’m going back to Castlegarren. I will trouble my lord Tiernan no more with my presence,” Shive said with as much dignity as she could muster, drawing her cloak around her despite the warmth of the day

  She marched straight-backed to her steed. Tiernan, though repentant, was too stunned over the fate of the villagers and his own feelings to try to mend fences at that moment, and despite the crushing feeing in his chest, let her go.

  “I’ll ride back with you, Shive. There may be Viking stragglers,” Cian offered.

  “No, you're needed here to look after the wounded. I’ll send over more food, and some carts to bring back the less injured to the castle to be tended. I’ll make sleeping arrangements for them as soon as I get back. And you’d better hurry. It will be dark soon enough,” Shive said quietly, squinting up at the declining sun.

  Shive spurred her horse and hurried back to the castle, where she did as she had promised, and sent carts and food. Then she and Mairead made up every spare bed in the castle, and laid down straw pallets on the floor in the corridors, hall and outbuildings.

  Only then did she slip up to her room to change her clothes and wash herself. After knotting her hair tightly into a roll at the nape of her neck, and checking her black breeches and tunic to be certain they were spotless, she sent for her two cousins Ernin and Mahon.

  “Please sit,” she indicated rather formally.

  They both did as she instructed.

  “Shive, tell us what has happened at Breachnach. Why do you look so strange?” Mahon asked at length as she sat there silently.

  “We need to go back to my father's castle at Rathnamagh tonight. I need you to conceal yourself behind the wall hangings as witness to the conversation which I will have with Uistean. There's a secret passage leading up to his private workroom. I shall show you the entrance. But remember, no matter what you hear, you must make sure that you never utter a word to betray your presence.”

  “What is all this? I don’t understand,” Ernin demanded angrily.

  “Please, we’ve grown up together. We trust each other with our lives, do we not?”

  “Aye, that we do,” Mahon stated firmly as he rose from his chair. “If this is what you want us to do, we well do it, won’t we, Brother. I’ll get my cloak and sword, and ordered the stable boy to bring around three fresh horses while you get yourselves ready.”

  Mahon vanished out the door, leaving Ernin and Shive alone together.

  “I can see by your face that something dreadful has happened, Shive. Can’t you please tell me what it is? I’ve only just returned with Tiernan’s scouting party, and am completely in the dark."

  Shive told Ernin about the Viking raid, and her father’s involvement.

  She concluded her tale, then said, “I have to confront Uistean now, to make him see that this has continued far too long. And I know Tiernan blames me. He said so himself. I must end this suffering once and for all.”

  “But you killed the raiders. Why do you have to go home to confront your father? I’m sorry for all the dead, but surely we can make reparation somehow.”

  “No, Ernin, no. Can’t you see, if Uistean has come this far out in the open, we’ve reached the point of no return. It’s all so clear now, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “I don’t know what you’re saying. Surely Uistean is justified in doing all of this if Tiernan killed Fiachra,” Ernin said, before sitting back with an exasperated sigh.

  “But don’t you see? Tiernan didn’t kill Fiachra. My father did it himself."

  "Oh my god, Shive—"

  "And shortly afterwards, he declared your brother Parthalan the tanaist. I’m sorry to pain you like this, Ernin, but you must know the truth now, before it’s too late.”

  “How on earth can you say that about your own father?”

  “Because he tried to kill me too. He gave me poison to drink on the day of my wedding,” Shive revealed.

  Ernin blinked, his mouth agape. Then he reached over and touched her hand gently. “Shive, I know you were very ill, and it looked like poison. I know also that you and Tiernan care for each other deeply. If this is what he's told you to win you over...”

  “Don’t be silly, Tiernan didn’t tell me anything. I know it's true. When you hide behind the tapestries in my father’s study, you'll hear all of it too. Come, we must go. I want all this to be over one way or the other.”

  “Shive, think what you’re doing. What will your father say if you go home and make all these wild accusations? He will disown you, lock you up and proclaim you mad!” Ernin warned.

  Shive laughed sourly. “Uistean has already disowned me, and you know I’m not insane. I’ve tried to be sensible about all this. Hoped that Uistean wouldn’t do any more harm. I thought my marriage would end the hostilities but it's only made things worse for Tiernan despite my best efforts to be a good wife. Those dead villagers, and the lives of those three hundred Vikings I’ve just slain, must be lain at the guilty one’s door. Get your sword and cloak, and come with me now, Ernin, please.”

  She heaved a huge sign and rose to his feet. “All right, I'll come, because the three of us have never been apart. But I tell you truly, I don’t like this one bit. And even if you do get the truth that you seek from Uistean, with us eavesdropping, what then? Denounce him in front of the clan? They would no more believe you than I do now! That a man would kill his own son and daughter is unthinkable.”

  “I'll prove it, I promise you. Let’s go,” Shive insisted, trying to keep her stately resolve in the face of her grim forebodings.

  During her whole ride to Rathnamagh, Shive knew she had only once course of action open to her if Uistean did indeed admit his guilt. She kept thinking of Fiachra, of Tiernan, and the O’Hara clan and all they had suffered for the past five years. Her mind became easier as she neared her destination. She
knew now what she had to do, and would not shirk from it, even if it meant the death of herself and her unborn child.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Shive, Mahon and Ernin arrived at Rathnamagh, the men were all just finishing their meal in the great hall. Shive sent her cousins up the secret passage to her father’s study to conceal themselves, and then fetched a servant to inform Uistean MacDermot that she wished to see him on a matter of some urgency. Then she ascended the main ladder of the castle to wait.

  Uistean came in few minutes later and stared at her narrowly. “Well, Daughter, I little thought to see you here. You’re looking well despite all the reports I had heard that you were knocking at death’s door after the wedding. Tiernan tried to do away with you, did he? Didn’t look after you properly?”

  “Tiernan is very good to me. The best husband a woman could wish for,” Shive said coolly. “It was you who tried to kill me, Father, just as you killed Fiachra five years ago.”

  Her father dropped his wine goblet on the desk with a dull thud. He began to laugh sourly.

  “Oh, ha ha, yes I see. This is some sort of joke?”

  She eyed the silver-haired man with distaste. “No joke, Uistean MacDermot. You tried to poison me. You gave me a goblet of wine just before I left here. I saw your hand shake, and at the time I put it down to anger. Now I realize that you were waiting to see if I would carry out your death sentence upon Tiernan. When I pretended not to understand your words, you administered the poison you wanted me to give him to me instead. I drank little of it, and in any case, tansy needs several hours to take effect.

  “You were certain I would arrive at Tiernan’s home and then die there shortly after we were wed, perhaps even overnight. He would conveniently get the blame for my death, just as he did in the case of Fiachra’s murder. In this case even his own clan would probably have turned against him and killed him,” Shive outlined for her father astutely.

  “Is this what that lying bastard has been telling you? Has he been trying to turn you against me?” Uistean stormed.

  “Tiernan has never said a word against you despite your odious treatment of his clan all these years. Nor in that time, may I remind you, has he ever retaliated, though his clan's losses have been heavy. Too heavy, to my way of thinking, Father. Which is why I draw the line here. The hostilities must end, and they will end through me one way or the other.”

  “You're standing there telling me that you're siding with your brother’s murderer against your own father!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on the desk.

  Shive merely leaned her back against the bare wall beside the door, and stared at him as he raged.

  When Uistean’s blistering tirade had subsided somewhat, Shive stated, “And I tell you I know that Tiernan wasn’t responsible for Fiachra’s death. You murdered him. You murdered your own son.

  “Tiernan wasn’t with Fiachra hunting that day, you were. The murder weapon was admittedly Tiernan’s dagger, which you had stolen from his room the night before. I can now recall vividly him asking me if I had seen it the following day when I was supervising the cleaning of his room. It’s a pity I didn’t remember that at the time.”

  “Even assuming all you say is true, and not a tissue of lies fed to you by that whoreson whom you’ve obviously bedded, what would I hope to gain from my only son’s death?”

  “You killed Fiachra because he wanted to join a monastery, and donate a large portion of our lands to the church. He planned to divide the succession and inheritance between myself, with Tiernan as my mentor, and possible suitor, and our four cousins, Parthalan, Fergus, Ernin and Mahon. He had asked you about it for several weeks in a row, and you kept refusing.

  “I think you must have imagined at first that Fiachra’s desire to enter the monastery was just a silly notion. But when Ruairi’s father Tadhg died and he became head of his household, you suddenly saw your chance. You don’t just want to be head of the MacDermot clan until the day you die. You want to be high king, don’t you, Father? After all, every one of our families is descended from Brian Boru, just from different sons. In your opinion, who better to become the next high king than yourself?

  “But you needed allies, didn’t you? You knew that Tiernan and the O’Haras have never got along the O’Rourkes, whom you pretended to support for a time. You thought that by destroying Tiernan’s family, you would win favour with the O’Rourkes, and they in turn would support you for the highkingship. You thought you could control the balance of power in this region, play one clan off against the other. The one mistake you’ve made is that Muireadach has begun to seek the highkingship for himself.”

  Uistean remained silent, glowering at his daughter from under hooded lids.

  Shive continued with her hypothesis, knowing by his silence that she had guessed aright. “So now you’re hiring Vikings to overrun Tiernan’s lands. To divide his territory in two and ruin both halves simultaneously. Where to next, Father? Ruairi’s lands? So that your two greatest rivals will be stopped in their tracks, and you can take over the highkingship without a murmur of dissent from anyone?"

  She shook her head and continued, “Anyone who knows Muireadach O’Rourke can tell you you’re living in a fool’s paradise. He's a savage, and not to be trusted. He’ll let you do all the fighting for him, and when the time is right, cast you aside like an empty wineskin drained to the lees."

  Uistean had remained stonily silent as Shive revealed the whole of his underhanded schemes. Now toasted her with the wine goblet, then leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg jauntily over the other.

  “Well done, Shive. You’re a lot more clever than I gave you credit for. No one else guessed about Fiachra’s death. I suppose it was only pure luck that you survived the poison.

  “It would have been perfect if you had died under Tiernan’s roof. I was all set to attack him and raze his castle to the ground. Pity your brother Fiachra wasn’t as clever as you, or your cousin Parthalan. Parthalan was out in the woods hunting that day as well. He saw me kill Fiachra. So I had to go along with his proposal to make him the next heir. Either he would have obeyed my every command or I would have rid myself of him too, as the only witness to Fiachra’s death. It was also very clever of you to figure out about the Vikings. How did you know?”

  “You gave them Fiachra’s shield to use. It could only have come from you. No one else would have had access to his room or things, since only you have the keys to his old chamber. How could you disgrace his memory so. He wanted naught but peace, and a better world for all of us, yet you've created nothing but war and a hell on earth in his name.”

  Uistean smiled thinly. “Ah, but it's a world of my own creation, through my own power."

  "But it won't last forever."

  "And who do you think is going to stop me?" he sneered. "'Tis too late."

  "Never."

  He laughed at her, mocking, goading, certain he had won all he could ever have hoped for.

  Shive had all to do not to vomit—he was actually reveling in the murder of his own son and the carnage he had caused.

  "My dear Shive, don't be as foolish as your brother. You know it's all over, and I've won all I could ever have hoped for. My ruthless Viking mercenaries will finish the job I started five years ago harassing Tiernan’s family, until either all the O'Haras die, or are willing to submit to me and pledge their loyalty.

  “As for the rest of my plan, it will play itself out accordingly, with, as you say, the O’Rourkes and Ruairi’s family both weakening each other until I can step in as ard ri. A pity for them, since Ruairi is a nice enough young man at heart. But I was destined to be high king. It was foretold at my birth that I would be powerful, and feared and hated by many.”

  “That's not the way I would ever like to be remembered or described, Father, I must say.” Shive shook her head. “Mayhap your astrologer was mistaken, Uistean MacDermot, for there is one part of the plan which isn't as perfect as you believe it to be.”

  Ui
stean smirked. “Any what might that be, pray tell?”

  "I've killed all the Vikings.”

  His eyes rounded. “What, both bands?” Uistean exclaimed unguardedly.

  “Thank you. That was one piece of information I needed to know. Where are the others attacking?” Shive asked coolly.

  Uistean stood up, his swagger gone, nothing but menace in his manner, like a snake about to strike. “I might as well tell you, since you won’t live to tell the tale. They're heading east to strike Tiernan’s village at Glenfarne even as we speak.”

  She met her father's cold blue eyes without flinching. “The other thing you hadn’t reckoned on, Uistean MacDermot, is me. I’m going to stop you from ever becoming high king.”

  “And how can you, a mere slip of a girl, hope to stop me?” Uistean snorted. “The wheels have all been sent in motion. It’s too late.”