The Hart and the Harp

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  Maolmordha commented as she worked, “My God, that’s some set of scars you have for a lass. And your leg. I can tell the way you favor it. You’re lucky it didn’t come off.”

  “My friend Oran outside helped me.”

  “How did you get it?”

  “Fighting Muireadach O’Rourke in the Maumkeogh pass.”

  “Why would he want to fight you? He wanted us to work against someone called the O’Haras,” Maolmordha said, before grimacing in pain.

  “That’s my husband. My lands are farther south. Muireadach is trying to attack my cousin Ruairi to become high king. Muireadach is a vicious and cruel man, and I can’t let him win. It would mean the destruction of everything I hold dear.”

  Maolmordha digested her information in silence. At length he turned his sea-green eyes candidly to her. “How do you come to be here at this convent, and why did you attack us?”

  “I know what you are, mercenaries hired by Muireadach. I couldn’t let you find food and succor here just so you could go reinforce Muireadach in the south.”

  “Where’s your husband now?”

  “He is leading the troops.”

  “He left you here?” Maolmordha asked in surprise.

  “Muireadach had broken through the pass. I had just given birth in one of the caves. He couldn’t have taken me and the baby with him even if he had wanted to,” Shive defended her husband impatiently

  “And the child? Where is it now? Is it safe?” Maolmordha asked, his worry evident in his tone.

  “I hope so. The other nuns escaped before you attacked.”

  Maolmordha sat back with a sigh as she continued to work on his injury.

  “May I ask you a question, my lord?” Shive asked quietly.

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Maolmordha winced as she continued to minister to him.

  “How do you come to be leading this band of mercenaries? You’ll forgive my saying so, but you don’t seem ruthless enough for a hired soldier. You could have raped and killed me in the blink of an eye if you'd wished.”

  “Yes, I could have, and I may just do it yet if you keep looking at me with those rare eyes of your, like the color of the heather in my homeland,” Maolmordha threatened with a growl as his gaze locked with her own.

  Shive continued to work on in silence, until at last Maolmordha admitted, “My brother was in charge of this expedition. We had been overrun by another clan, had lost our home. Some of the men were getting desperate, even suicidal back on Eriskay. They’re not a bad lot, really, but they’ve been brutalized by all they’ve suffered.

  “At any rate, my brother Malcolm was lost at sea in a huge storm. In fact, we’ve had nothing but storms since we left Eriskay, which is why we're here so late in the season. I’ve tried to hold us all together as the next eldest son, but this has been a fool’s errand from the start, with so many killed in the storms, and now so many dead here at this tiny little convent,” Maolmordha said with an exasperated sigh.

  “So if you promised to take Muireadach’s money in exchange for your help in his fight against us, why are you here all alone? Where's the O’Rourke?” Shive demanded.

  Maolmordha studied her for a time, and decided he might as well tell the truth.

  “The storms at sea delayed us, so Muireadach and his men weren’t at the designated meeting place. We got lost trying to find him, and got chased out of the O’Dowd lands. When we did finally make our way to Bothandun, the sergeant at arms there wouldn’t let us in. He thought it might be a ploy to take over the castle, and turned us away without so much as a crust of bread. It’s been raining for days now. This is the first good weather we’ve seen for ages.” Maolmordha indicated the small golden shaft of sunlight which shone down on them from above with a sweep of his hand.

  “We aren’t bad men, not really. We only wanted to get some food and drink from somewhere. I can’t afford to let my men starve, or they’ll turn on me. Believe me, they’re beginning to get desperate. We’re hungry, cold, and we need shelter and some comforts. We've been away from Scotland, our home, but no longer really our home, and have suffered deprivations for so long, we just had to do something to help ourselves. I’m sorry. I’m glad most of you weren’t killed,” he said sincerely.

  Shive absorbed his story in silence as she finished tying the bandage around his middle. Then she rose and asked, “What are you planning to do now?”

  Maolmordha sighed, and took a drink from the cup of wine Shive held out to him. “To be perfectly honest, Shive MacDermot, I’m at my wit’s end. What am I meant to do with all the injured men? I can’t just leave them here. And I’m in your husband’s territory, hostile territory, am I not?”

  Shive nodded. She assessed him candidly for a moment. “It seems to me, Maolmordha O’Donnell, that you're in a very difficult position. Your men are tired, hungry and wounded, and if any more difficulties are set in your path, they’ll probably rebel and overthrow you. You're in hostile territory which means every O’Hara, MacDermot, O’Keefe and O’Connor will want to kill you. Even Muireadach has turned his back on you.

  “So this is what I suggest. I’ll help you to get back to Scotland, if that is what you really wish to do, if you’ll look after me, treat me well, and help me to get home. Please don’t harm us, or attack my land and castles, and I'll pay you all handsomely, and make sure your wounded are tended to,” Shive offered.

  “But we promised Muireadach we would fight for him. I can’t go back on my word,” Maolmordha said a trifle anxiously.

  “Has any money exchanged hands?” Shive inquired.

  “No, not a penny have we received.”

  “Then you owe Muireadach O’Rourke nothing. And at the risk of sounding as though I’m criticizing you, Maolmordha, I'd just like to point out that you and your men, of all people, should know how I feel at the prospects of all of my lands being overrun, and all my friends and family put at risk,” Shive said cleverly, as she shot him a piercing look with her amethyst eyes.

  Maolmordha nodded silently.

  “Then in that case, I'll make you an even better offer than Muireadach. If you help us, you can have a home here. The war between my family and my husband’s has been going on for five years. Countless more have died because of Muireadach’s ambitions to be high king. My father even let Vikings destroy one of my husband’s villages. So there will be plenty of room for good soldiers and men willing to till the land.

  “As you say, it’s late in the season. Winter will be here soon enough. In any case, you have nothing left for yourselves in Scotland now even if you did elect to return to Eriskay, now do you?”

  Maolmordha shook his head dejectedly.

  “Then stay with us. Help us rebuild all Muireadach has destroyed,” Shive coaxed.

  Maolmordha reached out hand to stroke Shive’s cheek. She tried not to flinch away from the intimate gesture. “You must be a witch, my girl. You seem to get everyone to do exactly as you wish, don’t you?”

  “I can be very persuasive when I like,” Shive agreed with a grin as she took the hand in her own firmly.

  “I shall have to discuss it with the men. And I can’t say I'm willing to completely trust you yet. So, you're to stay here with me, and tend to the wounded. I shall keep an eye on you, if only to make sure none of the other men try to sample your charms.”

  “Thank you for your protection, my lord.”

  “The name is Maolmordha. I'll thank you not to call me my lord. It only serves to remind me of all I have lost.”

  “You can regain it if you choose to accept my offer,” Shive reminded him.

  Maolmordha watched as Shive moved to bank up the fire, and asked quietly, “This husband of yours?”

  Shive raised her eyebrows as she looked up from her task. “Tiernan? Yes, what about him?”

  “Was it a dynastic marriage?”

  Shive shook her head. “No, we married for love,” she said with a smile.

  He frowned in disappointment. “But you said you
r families had been feuding.”

  “We were at first, but that's all behind us now. I am the tanaist of my sept , and Tiernan and I are at peace with each other,” Shive stated firmly.

  “May I ask why you were at war, and how you of all people, a female, became leader of your clan?”

  Shive stared at him. “Does it really matter to you?”

  Maolmordha nodded. “If we’re to live here, and become your allies, Shive, I need to know what sort of people I’m dealing with. I can’t just let my men be left to chance or blind faith. So tell me about the feud, and your life here. Then I can make up my own mind whether I want to make your offer to them.”

  Shive moved to the sideboard were some bread and cheese were stored, and laid out a small repast for Maolmordha, who fell on the food ravenously as she commenced her story, beginning with her brother Fiachra’s death, and ending with how they had just met each other. She left out only the most intimate details of her life with Tiernan.

  At the end, Maolmordha stared at her silently for a long time as he finished chewing the last of the bread.

  “Well, Maolmordha, do I pass muster?” Shive challenged.

  “More than adequately. And if what you’ve told me of Muireadach is true, I shall certainly never consider owing any loyalty to such a coward. He killed his own wife and unborn child! And beat you? I’ve told you before, Shive, I never wage war on women and children,” Maolmordha said.

  “Oh?” she prompted.

  “All of my sisters were killed in my homeland, and a woman I had become quite attached to,” he revealed with a barely suppressed shudder.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “So Muireadach and the O’Rourkes would do the same to all of your clans hereabouts?”

  “I think so. If you don’t believe me, ask Oran. He worked for the senior O'Rourke as well as Muireadach, and knows far more about him than I,” Shive hastened to add, lest Maolmordha mistrust her more than likely biased version of events.

  “Your word is enough for me, Shive,” Maolmordha said decisively as he rose from the chair in an attempt to block out his grim memories.

  “Now, let's find you something else to wear. We shall go out to see your friends, show them you are well, and then I shall look after my men, and discuss with them your proposal.”

  Shive stripped off her stained and ragged shirt, and pulled one of the nun’s habits over her head while Maolmordha turned around to avoid gazing at her bare body.

  “But one more thing. You’re going to have to pretend you're mine, do you hear me, so here, I’ll tie this leather thong around your wrist, and I need to make you look bit more dishevelled,” Maolmordha said as he tugged at Shive’s clothes and ran his fingers through her hair.

  Suddenly he kissed her full on the mouth. Shive tried to pull away, but Maolmordha clung on, grinding his lips into hers almost painfully, and scraped his bearded chin and cheeks against hers. After a minute or so, he lifted his head and said with a cocky grin, “There, you certainly look sufficiently ravished.”

  “You enjoyed that,” Shive accused a trifle angrily, as she wiped her throbbing lips with the back of her hand.

  “I must admit, I’ve never met a woman like you. I imagine the first thing that goes through every man’s head the first time he meets you is what would it be like to have you in bed,” Maolmordha admitted frankly. “But don’t worry, it's all part of the act to protect you. Friends?”

  “Necessity often makes strange bedfellows,” Shive said with a glance at Maolmordha from under her thick dark lashes, “but aye, friends.”

  “I promise you, Shive, I won’t take advantage of you. But you can’t help feeling sorry for a poor lone wee Scots man all by himself in a strange new land.”

  “I’d hardly describe you as wee,” Shive joked as she took in the height of his huge powerful frame. “But admittedly, no, I don’t bear you any ill will. I’m just glad we can be friends and allies, and I hope the fighting stop soon.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Aye,” Shive assented

  “Then let’s go see what’s been happening out there in our absence.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  True to Maolmordha’s word, he went around tending to his men’s needs with Shive by his side to help. Soon he began to put the case to them that Shive was a powerful lord in her own right, and one who was willing to forget the past and be their ally if only they would fight against Muireadach O’Rourke should the occasion arise.

  Oran had at first been furious at the thought of Shive having accepted her rape and captivity so calmly. When at last she had a chance to get a minute alone with him, she reassured Oran, “I’m unhurt. It was all an act to impress his men. They didn’t think he was up to being leader of the group. But I believe he’s proving to be a young man with many admirable talents.”

  “I’m so glad you’re all right. I couldn’t understand. I mean, it wasn’t like you could forget Tiernan so easily, now was it,” Oran blustered.

  “Maolmordha is protecting me, nothing more, I swear,” Shive repeated and moved on to help the nuns with food for the men.

  Shive also helped nurse the wounded, so that by the end of the week, the men, well fed and rested, began to view their situation a bit more optimistically. They also envied Maolmordha greatly for the admirable wench he got to take to bed with him every night, and began to long for the comforts of a real home for themselves.

  Bitter frost in the evenings sent everyone in bed and snuggling under the covers early each night. Shive had to get used to Maolmordha’s huge looming presence in the bed beside her in the Mother Superior’s former quarters. But though Maolmordha was handsome, charming, and an excellent companion, he simply couldn’t compare to Tiernan.

  Shive worried about her husband night and day, for there had been no word from him since before the Scots had attacked the convent. Shive prayed that nothing dreadful had happened to him, but yet another worrying week passed by with no messages. By then the Scots were starting to get a bit restless to move on.

  “We’ve been waiting here for the others to recover. Nearly all of us are well fed and healed by now. The nuns here will stay behind and look after the rest who can’t travel. But since there's been no word from Shive’s allies in the south, it might be time to prepare to move on,” Maolmordha advised his men.

  Shive had agreed to this plan the night before when they had been alone in their quarters. Sitting around doing nothing when Tiernan and Ruairi might be in danger was more than she could bear. After much discussion, a reluctant Maolmordha had agreed to her plan.

  He had been hoping to have her to himself for a bit longer, inasmuch as he was worried about her health and safety. There was also his partiality for her company. But he could sense how desperately worried she was from the haunted look in her violet eyes, and knew he simply had to give in to her wishes.

  Shive had paced up and down in the chamber that night, until Maolmordha pulled her hard by the wrist and yanked her into bed.

  “Come on, girl, blow out the candle and get to sleep. I’m frozen, and all this worrying will make you ill.”

  “I’m sorry, Maolmordha,” Shive sighed as she tried to settle down in the narrow bed beside him. “I just have the strongest feeling that something's gone wrong.”

  “And I have the strongest feeling...” Maolmordha teased as he kissed her affectionately.

  “Maolmordha, stop that. You promised,” Shive said in a shocked tone, but eventually began to giggle.

  “Then stop wiggling all about and get some rest!” Maolmordha laughed as he rolled over and put his back to her.

  “I’m sorry, Maolmordha, you know I’m very fond of you,” Shive said quietly.

  “I know, but you’re married. I'd never ask you to break your vows. But damn me if you aren’t the most tempting wench. If you ever decide to divorce that Tiernan of yours, let me know! I don’t understand how that husband of yours can bear to let you out of his sight,” Maolmordha gru
mbled as he thumped his pillow and snuggled down under the blankets.

  “I’m not sure how either,” Shive whispered, as an image popped into her head of the last incredible time she and Tiernan had made love together, only a few days before the Viking raid so many months before.

  Then Shive thought of her son, and the tears sprang to her eyes. They had only been separated for a fortnight, but Shive often had the sensation that she might never see her darling little boy again.

  The next morning, after Maolmordha had put the proposition to his comrades to join forces with Shive and head down to meet up with Tiernan, all the O’Donnell men assented, even the recalcitrant Kenneth, who always complained about everything.

  “Aye, if we are moving on to our new home, it had better be soon, before the weather gets any worse,” he said, scowling.