Ruairi was full of praise at all he saw. “You’ve done very well for yourself, little coz. And if you don’t mind my saying it, I think I might have made a mistake about marrying you. I underestimated the fire in your veins, Shive,” Ruairi said almost regretfully.
Shive decided to be honest with Ruairi, lest he make the mistake of thinking that things could go back to the way they had once been between them.
“It’s as you said, Ruairi. It’s wonderful what the power of love can do.”
“So you really do love Tiernan, then?” Ruairi asked, both envious and relieved.
“I think I always have,” Shive confessed.
“I must admit, I suspected it all along. I suppose our respective fates are the best ones for us. All the same though, you know I want you to be happy, Shive, even if I envy you the fact that you’ve found that happiness with someone else,” Ruairi said generously, relinquishing all hope at last that he and Shive would ever be lovers.
“We would never have made a good couple, Ruairi, as well you know. You never considered me suitable to be the chatelaine of your estates. I was always too mannish, wasn’t I?”
“Yet you never would have succeeded in winning all you have if you hadn’t been. So, when is your inauguration ceremony to be?”
Shive blinked in surprise. “No one has made any mention of it, what with the funerals and everything else that's happened.”
He took her hand and began to escort her back to the impressive stone castle, three stories, with vast battlements, he noted out of habit with a warrior's expert eye. “Well, we can’t just let such an auspicious occasion for feasting and merriment pass us by. I'll make all the arrangements. It will be my present to you as a reward for all your loyal service. We'll invite everyone, and show the whole world just how strong and brave the new head of the MacDermot clan is.”
“Oh, no, Ruairi, I wouldn’t want you to make a huge fuss. Besides, I promised Tiernan I would be home by the end of the week,” Shive protested.
“This is more important. A seven-day feast just like in the days of old. Of course Tiernan shall come, and anyone else who cares to partake.”
“Tiernan won’t come and break bread under this roof,” Shive predicted, her expression the picture of dejection.
“He will if I insist upon it. Besides, Tiernan is your husband. He should support you on your inauguration day, of all days. If he loves you at all, Shive, he simply must come,” Ruairi stated firmly, brooking no denial.
Ruairi continued eagerly planning the splendid feast he wanted his cousin to have. Shive deserved to be feted, and Ruairi was determined to show Muireadach O’Rourke just how powerful he and his allies really were.
Chapter Twenty-Five
In the end Shive gave up trying to argue with her irrepressible cousin Ruairi over the issue of her inauguration ceremony and feast, simply because she knew she couldn’t persuade her cousin to change his mind.
Ruairi took over the many preparations and invited the heads of all the largest clans in the region to the feast, which was to take place on the tenth of July. He intended to show them to show not only Shive’s power but his own, with a view to one day becoming high king of Ireland.
Back at Castlegarren, Tiernan was not exactly delighted to receive the special messenger telling him of the inaugural feast, for it seemed very high-handed of Ruairi to be issuing invitations to Shive’s own castle of Rathnamagh. At the same time, Tiernan knew that his refusal to attend would be like a slap in the face to Shive’s status and pride.
In the end he decided to make the best of it by assembling a large family party, with himself and Cian, and Shive’s troop of soldiers whom she had specially trained. Tiernan’s brother Lasaran also said he wanted to go as well, and Orla O’Rourke agreed to accompany him, although as of yet they still had not become officially betrothed.
Tiernan was uneasy because of Orla’s obvious dislike of Shive. Since she was to escort his brother, Tiernan could hardly refuse without making an unwarranted scene over the matter. After all, with so many people there, what harm could her presence cause? It would be far worse if she didn’t attend, when everyone else, including her brother, had been invited.
Tiernan and his small party rode to Rathnamagh early on the morning the ceremony was to take place. Tiernan dismounted and strode into the hall of the castle without bothering to be announced, and was told by Mahon that Shive was up in her study.
Tiernan’s progress was closely followed by Orla and Lasaran, who insisted they wanted to give Shive their congratulations before the ceremony.
Tiernan had hoped to have a few minutes alone with his wife, but in view of Orla’s seeming kindness and his brother’s sudden acceptance of his wife, Tiernan decided not to try to discourage them from following him. Tiernan ascended the ladder, and marched in through the door to study without knocking.
He was completely stunned to find Shive and Ruairi in each other’s arms when he barged in.
“I, er, excuse me!” he growled.
“Wait, Tiernan, wait! Ruairi’s just told me the most wonderful news,” Shive said cheerfully.
Ruairi began to scowl, and looked away from the trio who had just burst in upon their privacy.
For their part, Orla and Lasaran continued to stare at the couple from the doorway. But Tiernan brushed past them with a hasty excuse, and stormed down the ladder. Only Cian, who saw that his brother suddenly looked as black as a thundercloud, stopped Tiernan from rampaging out of the castle entirely
“Tiernan, what on earth is wrong with you!” Cian scolded his brother, who was behaving as though demented.
Tiernan pulled his brother into an alcove and shook him angrily. “I saw them together in each other’s arms. And it isn’t the first time, I’m sure. They hugged and kissed the other night. I’ve been a fool. I should have never listened to your advice about trying to get her to come back to Castlegarren. Now that she’s the leader of the MacDermot sept, Shive would be the perfect wife for Ruairi. It’s best if I just step aside. ‘Tis obvious to me that Ruairi has the prior and better claim upon her affections,” Tiernan raged.
“Has she asked you for a divorce?” Cian gasped.
“No, she hasn’t. But I saw them together with my own two eyes! What's the point of deluding myself any longer?” Tiernan spat.
“Please, Tiernan, listen to me once more, and try to be reasonable. Shive is an affectionate woman, and you’re in love with her. For God’s sake, Tiernan, think for a moment before you do anything hasty and throw away any chance of winning her back. It wasn’t so long ago that you were accusing me of being too close to Shive.
“Admit it, you’re jealous of every man who gets near her. Just stop and consider the possibility that there could be something completely innocent in all of this. That perhaps you have misinterpreted what you saw. At any rate, you can’t go now. Not when the ceremony is about to take place.”
“She wouldn’t want me here,” Tiernan grumbled bitterly.
“You know that isn’t true,” Cian argued. “Shive was the one who said she was going to come home to you, didn’t she? You’ve got to start trusting her at some point, or else the marriage is doomed to failure, Tiernan. Stay here, watch them, confront them about their feelings if need be.
“But I’m certain there's a perfectly innocent explanation for all of this. I have never known you to give up on something important without a fight. If you love her, Tiernan, then win her!”
Tiernan glowered darkly, but eventually assented. “All right, Cian, I shall stay. But when the ceremony is over, I will have it out with Shive once and for all.”
Tiernan went to the hall where the other men from the sept and honored guests were beginning to assemble.
In the study, Shive had at last got rid of Orla and Lasaran, and asked Ruairi, “Can’t I at least tell Tiernan?”
He shook his head. “With Orla and Lasaran hanging around, I can’t run the risk of them, and as a result, Muireadach, finding out.
Orla would pass on the news to her brother as fast as she could get a messenger to Bothandun, and I would lose the little advantage I might have gained.
“I'll leave tomorrow to celebrate my nuptials. Then the MacRannells will be my firm allies. It is the last step toward the high kingship for me. Things will never be the same for any of us again,” Ruairi predicted.
“I hope you'll be as happy as I’ve been once you're married.” Shive smiled gently, as she gazed out the window wistfully at the bright summer sky.
“Are you sure you’re happy, Shive?” Ruairi asked uneasily. “Tiernan looked livid when he stormed out of here.”
“With all that’s happened recently, trust has never really been built up in our relationship. I suppose I can’t blame him for thinking the worst. But once I'm home at Castlegarren, I’ll make it up to him. I wish I could leave right now.”
“No, you can’t. You’re about to be inaugurated. In any case you’ll have to preside over the feast for the next three days at least.”
“Oh well, at least at the end of that time Mahon will be able to take over for me.”
“There’s one other thing you’re going to have to tell Tiernan though, apart from my news, once I’m safely gone from here,” Ruairi said with a meaning look.
“What’s that?” Shive asked distractedly.
“About the child you’re carrying, of course.”
“How did you know?” Shive gaped in astonishment.
“I’ve know you since the day you were born, Shive. Tiernan’s a fool not to have noticed and to let you run around wild.”
“I haven’t told him about the baby precisely because I know he wouldn’t let me run around doing as I wish. But I suppose I’m going to have to slow down soon.”
“I certainly hope you will, Shive. It’s not good for you to overdo things, you know,” Ruairi warned.
“I get little naps here and there, but there is so much to do--”
“Which you promise me you shall leave to Mahon from now on until the child is born, is that clear? I want you bonny and rosy-looking in order to greet my bride when I come back up here in a few weeks, is that clear?” he said, squeezing her hand gently.
“All right, Ruairi, I promise to hand over the reins to Mahon. I just don’t know what Tiernan will say about the baby,” Shive admitted, chewing her lower lip.
“I’m sure he will be delighted when he finds out,” Ruairi reassured her as he checked over her clothing once more before they went down the stairs to the ceremony.
Shive had decided to opt for her usual breeches and tunic, in a rich black velvet, with a large gold link chain around her shoulder, and a long flowing ermine lined cloak over it. Her riotous waves of auburn hair had been pulled back into a simple knot. She looked every inch the warrior as she secured her sword belt and placed her dagger in it as well.
“Do I pass muster?” she asked earnestly.
“You do indeed. You will be the MacDermot tanaist in a few more minutes, and you look like you were born to it,” Ruairi said, his eyes full of admiration.
“Imagine! Never in my wildest dream could I have predicted that such a thing would come to pass.”
“I could, if I'd only looked beyond my own ambitions. You were ever the strong and brave one in your family, even more so than Fiachra, if I may say so. He had all your father’s love and attention because he was a boy, but you had the ability to fight. Plus you had the brains to know which battles you could win, and which you couldn’t. That's far more important than having a good sword arm, as well you know,” Ruairi praised her sincerely. “Now come along, coz. We wouldn’t want to keep your guests waiting.”
Ruairi took hold of Shive’s arm and led her down the ladder to the entrance of the hall.
“Are you ready?” he asked softly.
“As ready as I'll ever be,” Shive replied, taking a deep breath to steady herself.
“Let us go then, my dear. History awaits.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shive’s inauguration ceremony was short, with a priest giving her a blessing in her new capacity as the MacDermot. Then all of the clansmen knelt and kissed her sword as they pledged their undying loyalty to her.
Even Fergus swore with good grace to obey her and support her, Shive remarked to herself as her cousin, now a shadow of his former self, knelt before her and declared his loyalty in a shaky voice which was barely audible.
Lasaran O'Hara and Orla O'Rourke exchanged meaningful looks. Fergus was their man. If they were going to strike at Shive where it hurt, Fergus was as likely a candidate to go along with their plot as anyone.
Orla was counting on using anyone she could so that her brother Muireadach could not only destroy the O’Haras, but the MacDermots as well. Poor Fergus would never know what happened. But first they had to get Shive out of the way. Then Muireadach could take over both clans.
Lasaran, unaware of his lover’s intentions, went along quite happily with whatever Orla suggested, so ambitious was he to become head of his clan himself despite the fact that he had none of the drive and energy of his elder brother. Nor even the courage and purposefulness of his younger one.
With his overexaggerated sense of his own importance, Lasaran was more than willing to listen to all of Orla’s fulsome flattery and predictions of his future greatness. Thus he would go along with any plan of hers which he thought would move him closer to his own inauguration ceremony as the head of the O’Haras. Even if it meant betraying his own brother Tiernan.
During the course of the evening, Orla and Lasaran spread rumours about what they had seen in Shive’s study between Ruairi and Shive, grossly exaggerating the hug into a passionate embrace. Most of the men shrugged it off as a bit of harmless affection between two cousins who had known each other since childhood, but the seeds of suspicion and doubt were sown.
Orla and Lasaran also asked if there were any word on when Shive would be returning to Tiernan’s castle as his bride.
“At the end of the feast here,” Bran supplied innocently as he took another hearty swig of his ale.
Fergus, in his cups already, was feeling the bitter sting of always coming in second even though he felt himself infinitely worthier than anyone else in the assembly. However, the recollection of what had happed to Uistean and Parthalan as a result of their treachery reminded him that the stakes could be very high in the struggle for clan power.
Nevertheless, he knew Ruairi had always considered him a second-rate warrior as well as a bit of fool. There was no way he would ever gain advancement under his powerful cousin. Shive would never trust him again, of that he was certain.
Thus Fergus became susceptible to the blandishments of the scheming pair. Orla’s charming good looks, and Lasaran’s flattery, soon put Fergus in a different frame of mind. They outlined their plan to Shive’s ambitious cousin in whispers.
To Fergus’s credit, at first he stood up and made as if to run to where Shive was sitting at the high table with Ruairi and Tiernan. But Lasaran grabbed his wrist firmly and yanked him back down onto the bench, where the tipsy Fergus landed with a thud.
“Think about it, man. All the power you could ever dream of. I swear to you, Shive won’t be harmed. She'll just be kept locked up until Orla’s brother is secure in his position as high king. Then you'll reap the rewards for your loyalty to Muireadach,” Lasaran whispered.
Fergus sat thinking about their proposal, for a moment, then rubbed his hand over his face, and at last agreed.
“All right, so long as you promise me no harm shall come to Shive, I shall send you a signal as soon as she sets out from here to return home to Castlegarren. You can intercept her on the way. Then I will spread the rumour that she has eloped with Ruairi, just as you have told me,” Fergus assented.
“Here’s gold to reward you for the signal, and to show you that there will be plenty more of that later, once Muireadach is in power.” Orla smiled seductively as she pressed a small pouch into his hand under the table.
Then she stroked Lasaran’s cheek lingeringly, and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Lasaran’s family first, then Fergus’, she commented to herself as she stared at both men with utter contempt in her frosty blue eyes, which gleamed with ambition, rather than what Lasaran believed to be desire.
At the head of the table in the centre of the great hall, Shive observed the conversation amongst the three narrowly. Her attention was distracted by Tiernan’s presence, since he kept making remarks to her which were infuriatingly neutral, almost as if they were total strangers.
At last she could not longer stand his polite demeanor, and turned to look him full in his midnight blue eyes.
The Hart and the Harp Page 26
