Infinite Devotion (Infinite Series, Book 2)

by L. E. Waters

“A cave?” His voice goes up. “Oh, no, it won’t do. Follow me; we’ll find a nice farmer to take us in.”

  We get on our horses and ride out through the commons. He picks a nice little cottage that still has smoke from their chimney. “Smoke means someone’s still awake.”

  I stand behind Captain as he knocks on the small wooden door. A young man pulls the door open a crack and asks, “Who comes calling at this dark hour?”

  “Only two weary travelers far from an inn.”

  He stares Captain and me up and down with the one eye in the crack of the door and opens it for us. “Céad míle fáilte. A weary stranger is always welcomed into our house.”

  We walk in and remove our muddy boots as a young, pretty woman comes and takes our coats to hang. The man says, “Come and rest yourself at our fire. Can we offer you a drink of milk?”

  “No, sir, the fire will be more than fine,” I reply.

  But Captain says jovially, “Sure, some milk will be grand.”

  The woman goes and pours out the last of the jug into Captain’s wooden bowl, filling it only halfway.

  The man says, “It’s all we have left, I’m afraid.”

  Captain bellows, “More than enough, my good man, more than enough.”

  The woman’s eyes dart up to the loft and the man whispers, “We have three babes asleep in the loft, so we must keep our voices low.” The woman sits on the floor beside him and leaves the chairs for us.

  “You have a right cozy house here,” Captain flatters, but it makes the young woman gush in tears.

  “What did I say?” Captain opens his eyes wide.

  “We’re facing eviction first thing tomorrow.”

  “Can’t you borrow from a good neighbor to help?” I ask.

  “That’s the thing, we’re owing fifty pounds to pay off the mortgage, and he’s threatened to evict anyone who helps us,” she says.

  The man quickly follows, “You see, our black-hearted landlord wants this property cleared so he can plant it for himself. ’Tis the only way the rack renter can get us off.”

  Captain speaks, “I might be able to assist you here. If I were to loan you the money, would you promise to pay it back?”

  The man looks surprised. “If I had to work day and night and die trying, I would.”

  “I thank you greatly for offering the loan, good sir, but the landlord says we can’t have borrowed a shilling,” his wife says.

  “Oh, don’t worry your pretty head about that. I’ll think of a good plan by morning,” Captain says.

  The young woman drops all the worry from her face and runs around happily, making two beds for us on the floor by the fire.

  In the morning, with all the wee children tottering around, it makes me have a pang of sadness that Muirin and I hadn’t had any of our own yet. Captain makes up a promissory note for the farmer to sign, takes fifty pounds from his purse on his belt, and puts it in the farmer’s hand.

  “Now here’s the plan, listen well. ’Tis important to wait for the landlord to have the sheriff and all the bank’s people in his presence when you give over this payment, or else he might take it and say you never paid. Make sure you get a written copy of payment for your proof, and when he asks if you borrowed it, you say a relative of yours gave you this money to hold for him, and seeing that you’re in such need, have had to use it.”

  The farmer takes a deep breath for strength, and Captain and I get on our horses to leave. The young lady tears while holding her smallest baby. “You have no idea how much this kindness means to us and you can only have been sent from the good Lord.”

  Captain leads the way up on a hill overlooking the farm by the road down to cottage.

  “Why are we stopping?” I ask.

  “So we can see the landlord coming and watch how he fares.”

  Within twenty minutes, the pompous gent rides his sleek horse down to the cottage, and he tries to bully them of the property, but the farmer seems to stall him well. The bank’s people come along, led by the sheriff, and we see the farmer hand over the money like Captain instructed. We hear the landlord curse all the way up to where we are, and it brings a smile to Captain’s face. The bank’s people and the sheriff depart, seeing that the mortgage is paid, and the landlord stays cursing and swatting his hat at the farmer. The farmer closes his door, and the landlord gets on his horse and speeds out in fury.

  “Watch and learn, boy!” Captain rides to the curve of the road up ahead. The landlord stops his horse, and a masked gunman points his pistol at his head. Captain says, “Stand and deliver!”

  The landlord says, “I have nothing on me.”

  Captain laughs. “I just saw the sheriff and the bank meet you out there at that farmer’s house. Empty your pockets now, or I’ll shoot and empty them for you!”

  The man hesitantly hands over the fifty pounds, and Captain says, “Any other valuables?”

  The man says, “No, nothing else.”

  Captain packs his sack and says quickly, “Oh, do you happen to have the time?”

  The man instinctively reaches for his watch but freezes halfway, realizing the trap.

  “Hand it over now! The fob too!”

  He reaches in a secret pocket and begrudgingly pulls his gold articles out. Captain snatches them up and warns, “If you don’t change your ways and treat your tenants, better I’ll follow you and take everything you ever get your hands on. Now ride off and don’t look back.”

  The landlord kicks his horse and runs. Captain trots back to me with an impish grin and says, “Enjoy the show, now?”

  “Quite a plan.” I smile. This is going to be interesting.

  I take Captain back to my men by the main cave, and some have already heard of his accomplishments elsewhere. I tell them all the story of the farmer, and Captain stands up. “Come, Redmond, I almost forgot the ending to the story!”

  We ride back to the farmer’s cottage, and the couple runs out with the children in tow and welcomes us like royalty.

  “Won’t you please come in and have some bread I’ve baked?” the woman asks.

  Captain replies, “Thank you, dear, but I have but a moment and came to look in on you.”

  The farmer speaks, “Your bless’d plan worked and we kept the farm!”

  “And to make the story even sweeter, as soon as the landlord left, a masked highwayman robbed him!” His wife nearly shakes with happiness.

  “Well, along those lines—” He pauses and takes out their promissory note, and with a dramatic flair rips the note in little pieces and throws them up in the air to fall around the couple like thick snow. They smile with the joy of children on Christmas, and Captain tips his hat and says with a tight smile, “Captain Power took care of you.”

  We ride off to the tavern to celebrate.

  Chapter 17

  We walk in to see the whole gang already partaking in spirits. The leaders, with most of their recruits, fill the large room. Even Art has showed. They all cheer, seeing us come in, and Captain seems to gain admiration very quickly wherever he goes. He puts his hands up to quiet everyone, and he picks up a glass on the bar, saying, “I’m sure dry for thirsty!” and yells out to Sean, “Give everyone a round and steaks for every fellow!”

  They all cheer even louder, and he toasts with his glass in the air, “’Tis better to spend money like there’s no tomorrow, than to spend tonight like there’s no money!”

  The walls are shaking with the volume of their thanks. The mood in the tavern’s joyous, and we all drink up and finish our sups. I stand up, wait until the room quiets down somewhat, and say, “Thank you to Captain for his generosity!”

  “Oh, I never said I was paying!” he pretends, and everyone laughs.

  “Well, then, I don’t thank Captain, I thank myself!”

  “Toast!” Liddy yells.

  I clear my throat, giving me time to come up with a proper one. “‘God made the Italians for their beauty. The French for fine food. The Swedes for intelligence. The Je
ws for religion. And on and on until he looked at what he had created and said, ‘This is all very fine, but no one is having fun. I guess I’ll have to make me an Irishman!’”

  They erupt with laughter, and I sit. Cahir stands up, swaying slightly with drink. “Well, then, I’ll give a toast too!” He holds up his glass and slurs, “‘I have known many, and liked not a few”’—he turns to look at Síofra across the room—‘“but loved only one, and this toast is to you.”’ Everyone’s quiet in the awkward moment as he raises his glass to her.

  Kelly yells out, “Just kiss her and get it done with, Dempsey!” and the room rocks again with laughter.

  Cahir smiles, taking the jest in stride, and points to the fiddler. “Play my song, and I’ll bless everyone with a little song and dance!”

  The happy music starts, and he yells to the center of the room, “Clear the floor, make room!”

  The men push the tables to the side and get up on them, clapping. ’Tis an old favorite of the rebels, “Follow me up to Carlow.” He stands in the middle, still as an oak until he springs to life at the first word:

  “Lift MacCahir Og your face

  Brooding o’er the old disgrace

  That black FitzWilliam stormed your place,

  Drove you to the Fern

  Grey said victory was sure

  Soon the firebrand he’d secure;

  Until he met at Glenmalure

  With Feach MacHugh O’Byrne.”

  At the chorus, the whole room joins in. Cahir stops singing, runs over to grab Síofra, and the two of them spin around the floor together.

  “Curse and swear Lord Kildare,

  Feach will do what Feach will dare

  Now FitzWilliam, have a care

  Fallen is your star, low.

  Up with halberd out with sword

  On we’ll go for by the Lord

  Feach MacHugh has given the word,

  Follow me up to Carlow.”

  Cahir handles his feet well, and Síofra seems to be floating on air. She’s beaming as they dance, and I wonder why I never noticed before that they were so obviously sweet on each other. The chorus stops, and he lets go of Síofra to sing as she continues to jig around him, kicking high and springing up unnatural-like.

  “See the swords of Glen Imayle,

  Flashing o’er the English pale

  See all the children of the Gael,

  Beneath O’Byrne's banners

  Rooster of the fighting stock,

  Would you let a Saxon cock

  Crow out upon an Irish rock,

  Fly up and teach him manners.”

  Again the chorus comes in, and the boys are now jumping from table to table all singing at the tops of their lungs. The excitement’s so thick in the room it makes my eyes tear—not wanting this great moment to end.

  “From Tassagart to Clonmore,

  There flows a stream of Saxon gore

  Oh, great is Rory Oge O’More,

  At sending loons to Hades.

  White is sick and Lane is fled,

  Now for black FitzWilliam’s head

  We’ll send it over, dripping red,

  To Liza and her ladies.”

  Yips peal out, and the boys jump into the circle for dancing the last chorus. ’Tis a sea of bobbing heads, all shouting and pushing each other off them for room to dance, all the while smiling, though. All hold the last note for as long as they can, and when done, cheer so loudly I have to hold my ears to keep them from ringing. Cahir’s up on the table, and he jumps onto the boys in the circle, who catch him and spin him high in the air. I look to Síofra, who is glowing from Cahir’s performance.

  Suddenly, a man I’m unfamiliar with reaches over, grabs Síofra, and holds her face against his in a rough kiss. Cahir seeing this from above, jumps from the boys’ hands, and vaults across the bar onto the man, pulling him down to the floor without harming Síofra. He gets up on top of the man quickly and gives him a puck of his fist hard on the side of his head, causing the man’s head to whip and knocks his two eyes into one. Cahir gets up and spits on his shirt. “You’re out of the gang. Get out of here fast before I lose my temper!”

  The man gets up, unsteady, and makes his way out the door quickly. Síofra’s still glowing. Cahir turns to check on Síofra but takes a step and falls on the ground.

  William says, “Fell over his shadow, he did!” and everyone laughs as Liddy and William carry him to a room with Síofra tending to him.

  Art and Kelly head to my table and sit. Art says, “I think that’s Cahir’s first infraction.”

  “Oh, shut your gob, Art,” Kelly says.

  “’Tis a good man’s case, though.” Captain hits me on the back.

  “No, Art’s right, ’tis one of our rules. This is the first warning. I’ll give it to him when he’s feeling grand in the morning.” They laugh.

  “I’m going to get another drink.” Captain pulls his chair out.

  Kelly says, getting up to go with him, “Watch it, Captain, Art’s counting drinks!”

  Art moves over to Captain’s seat, and I know what’s coming. “So, you went right home, huh?”

  “Art, you have no call in telling me when I should go home.”

  A chair pulls out on the other side of me, and I see ’tis Alister in plain clothes.

  “You have just saved your distance, Alister!”

  “For what?” he asks.

  “Oh, nothing, came at the right moment, is all.”

  Art takes the hint and carries his pint over to the bar.

  “How about a steak, you greedy-gut?” I call Sean over.

  “Just a pint, Sean.”

  Sean nods, and I ask, “So what’s the hard word, then?”

  Captain comes back and sits to listen. I nod to Alister and say, “Captain’s one of us now.”

  He gives a nod to Captain. “Sorry to dampen your celebrating, but there’s a lot going round in the garrison.” He sits back as Sean brings back a pint. “A proclamation’s gone out, Redmond, that if the local people don’t give you up within twenty-eight days, then four men will be shipped to the plantations in America.”

  “They can’t be serious, Alister, can they really do that?” I ask.

  “Can’t tell if they’re serious or not, but they’re making the threat tomorrow. Picking the four men at random and taking them in to make the locals talk.”

  I can’t say anything.

  “Hate to tell you at the same time, they’ve raised your bounty to £100 and £50 for each of your men.”

  Captain laughs. “I could retire on the fortune this room would bring in!”

  Alister gives me an unsure look at my new friend’s black humor.

  “The last thing is they’re going to start felling trees in glen woods, trying to find your hide-outs.”

  “Well, many thanks to you, can’t say my night’s not ruined, but thanks all the same. Sean’s got something for you.” He nods and goes over to the bar.

  Captain asks, “You think the locals will trade you in?”

  I blow out some hot air. “Can’t be sure, but they’ve said to me before they’d rather live in extreme poverty with dignity than to inform.”

  “Let’s hope that’s true.” He takes another swig.

  “The key to keeping your own from betraying you is to imagine your men like a pack of wolves. Keep feeding them the best cuts of steak, even if you get left with scraps. Just make sure they don’t want for anything, and they’ll never bite the hand that feeds them.”

  Captain pushes back stiffly in his chair. “Never forget, though, that a caged wolf will pass up a steak for the want of freedom. A pardon is a mighty tempting thing.”

  “Not to my men.” I take a drink, but the worry fills my head.

  By the time I reach home, the house is dark. I open the door quietly, take my shoes and outer clothes off, and crawl into bed.

  Muirin wakes up, though, and turns over. “Oh, you’re finally showing up, then?”

  �
��Sorry, we had an outlaw come from far away to join us, and tonight we celebrated.”

  “I don’t even understand why you got married, if all you want to do is run around the woods with these vagabonds.”

  She turns back over to face the wall.

  I sit there in the dark thinking about how I’ll wake up before she does and slip out the door again.

  I’m on the island again, and this time there’s no lamb but a large fish in the lake that flops out on the dirt and is running out of air. I move to put the fish back in the lake, but I hear a growl behind me. ’Tis a large grey wolf baring his teeth at me. I pick up the dying fish and throw it to the wolf, but the wolf has no interest and pounces in the air at me.

  The nightmare wakes me up, and I decide there’s no better time to disappear than now. The purple light of early dawn is coming through the window, and the morning chill is in the air. I turn to look at Muirin’s beautiful face as she’s sleeping. She has her pillow scrunched up in a tight ball, and her brown hair spills off the pillow onto the bed around her. I feel sick at what I’ve done to her, but I can’t make myself stay home when there’s so much to do. I throw on my clothes and boots and open the door inch by inch.

  Twenty-eight days come and go, and the good people of our village keep their mouths tight, even at the risk of the four men awaiting deportation. Frustrated by their loyalty to me, Lucas realizes the threat doesn’t work and releases the men back to their families. A month later they try a new tactic: if the villagers won’t point out outlaws, then make the outlaws turn themselves in. A proclamation’s made that any blood relative or wife can be taken and brought to the gaol and released only when the outlaw turns himself in. As soon as Alister informs me, I head straight to our house and get Art to bring Ma and Da to form a plan. Muirin’s giving me the cold shoulder, but as soon as she hears about the proclamation, she speaks to me. “We have to leave Armagh?”

  Art replies, “They’ll be coming for you all first. Best be leaving this very day.”