The shock of the meeting came near to unseating him, and sent one of the foe sprawling, horse and man; Brian cut another to the chin and thrust the life from a third, and before the first sword had slithered on his steel-cap his men had swept aside the devoted fifteen, and he was riding on. O’Donnell had straightened his party for nothing.
Now the Dark Master was riding for his life, and knew it. Some few of his men fell out with spent beasts, and these Brian’s party rode over, taking and giving but one blow, or none at all. When Claregalway drew up ahead, cold and gray under the stars, Brian was but two hundred yards behind with forty men still behind him, while O’Donnell had not half so many.
As he thundered down to the river Brian had drawn as much ahead of Turlough and the others as he was behind the Dark Master. He shouted back to those of his men whose matches were lit to loose off their muskets, but before the first pan had flashed out he saw the O’Donnells draw rein and wheel at the bridge-head, while two of their number drove clattering on into the town.
Now, had Brian chosen to wait for his men things would have fallen out differently; but this he would not do, for he thought to break through these as he had done with the others. So he went at them with naked sword, his heart raging within him and his face set and cold like stone. He was still fifty paces from the bridge-head when their pistols spattered out; the men behind dared not fire for fear of hitting him, so that Brian had all the fight for himself.
He came near to having none, for at that first discharge a pistol-ball split his jack and lodged in his buff-coat over his heart, while another came between his arm and his side, drawing blood a little from both; while a third and worse went into his horse between the fore shoulders. Brian felt the poor beast falter shudderingly, and pause; then the O’Donnells shouted greatly and closed about him, thinking to slay him before his men could come up.
Brian saw a long skean plunge into his horse’s neck, and in terrible anger he smote with the edge, so that a hand and arm hung down from the dagger, a ghastly thing to see. But the poor steed was dead with that blow, and Brian had but time to fling himself headlong ere the horse rolled over.
The leap saved his life, for the O’Donnells were striking fast at him. Brian rose up between two of them, dragged one down with his left hand and thrust the other under the arm, and tried to leap up into the saddle. But as he did so his own men struck, so that the horses were swept together and pinned Brian’s legs between them, and he hung helpless.
In that instant he saw an ax swinging above him and flung back his head, but not enough, for the ax fell, and Brian went down under the horses.
Save for three of his men who saw the thing and stood over him, Brian would have been trampled to death on the spot. These O’Donnells were no loose fighting-men, and they smote shrewdly against the press of Brian’s greater numbers, while their wild cry rose high over the shrill of steel. When Brian’s men knew that he was down, however, they struck such blows as they knew not they had in them, and quarter was not asked or offered in that battle by the bridge.
The fight was not ended until the last O’Donnell went down in a swirl and clash of steel. Then Turlough, who had kept well out of it according to his wont, pushed through and fell upon Brian’s body. When Brian opened his eyes his head was still ringing, while his men were bathing him with water. After an instant he sat up and gazed around.
“The Dark Master—did you catch him?”
“Nay, our thought was all for you, master,” answered Turlough.
Brian groaned in great bitterness, but said no word. He knew that his chance was gone from him for that time, and as he looked around his heart sank within him. Half of his men had slipped down and lay sleeping among the dead, and the rest could scarce stay in their saddles for weariness and lack of sleep. But Turlough sprang up and gazed at the graying sky with fear in his face.
“Up, master!” he cried fiercely. “We must still ride hard, for the Dark Master will send out a troop of horse from Galway to catch us, and we must get past that town before the sun is high!”
So the sleeping were roused in haste, the wounded were put in saddle, and with their beasts staggering under them, those that were left of Brian’s men closed around him and rode over the bridge through Claregalway.
CHAPTER XVII
BRIAN GOES A CRUISING
Above the head of Bertraghboy Bay there was a swooping curve in the hill road. It was at this same curve that Brian Buidh had first met the Dark Master, and it was here he had set that trap which had won him tribute for the Bird Daughter. When first he had ridden that road Brian had had a score of lusty men at his back; on the second occasion he had headed a hundred and four-score; but when he drew rein there a week after that fight at Claregalway bridge there was with him only old Turlough Wolf, and their horses were sorry skeletons like themselves.
“We are somewhat worse than when we twain started out together,” laughed Brian bitterly. “Then we had full bellies at the least, but now we have naught.”
“There are men coming, master,” said Turlough, hanging weakly to his saddle. “I think they are our castle watchers.”
Very gaunt was Brian that day, and nigh spent with his wounds and hunger and weariness. During the week that had passed since the Dark Master slipped away from him, nothing but evil had come upon him.
First they had tried to slip past to the north of the city, and had reached the Lough Corrib River, and could even faintly hear the bells of St. Nicholas below, when a half-troop of horse fell upon them. Then in desperation Brian’s men smote for the last time, and put the royalists to flight; but there Brian lost the most of his men. However, he got fresh horses, and so fled eastward again when more men were seen approaching.
What chanced in the six days following is not fully set forth, for Brian got little glory from it. One by one he lost his men, and at length was forced north again to the shores of Lough Corrib, with men riding hot and fast to catch him. With Turlough Wolf alone left to him, he had made shift to cross the lake in a leaky fisherman’s boat, the horses swimming behind, and so came into the O’Flahertys’ country.
There word had also gone forth against him, but because of the pact between them, Murrough of the Kine sped him in peace through Iar Connaught, and at length Brian had won home again with joyless heart.
As Turlough said, men were coming, and they were Brian’s own men who watched the roads. From them he got food and wine and two fresh horses, and with the afternoon they rode down to Bertragh in worse shape than they had ridden from it. Brian was the less heartened when he saw two of Nuala O’Malley’s ships in the bay, and knew that she must be at the castle.
Indeed, before they reached the gates the Bird Daughter rode out to meet them, with Cathbarr striding before her. When the woman saw Brian’s face her violet eyes filled with tears, and when he dismounted and kissed her hand and would have spoken, she stayed him.
“Nay, we know enough of the story for now, Brian. First rest and eat, then talk.”
Brian guessed straightway that pigeons had come from her men in Galway telling of those ridings about the city, and that she had come over to Bertragh in anxiety; and this was the truth indeed.
Turlough Wolf hied him away and slept, but Brian sat about a table in the hall with Cathbarr and Nuala. He was very worn and weary, but when he had eaten and drunk he refused to sleep yet a while, and told how that storm had fared north and what had come of it.
“So I have lost a hundred and fifty hard-won men,” he concluded gloomily. “I would not grudge them if the Dark Master had fallen, but he is in Galway, and the Millhaven pirates will be down to meet him, and that means war on Bertragh.”
“I will be glad of that,” said Cathbarr simply. “I am sound again and have been sharpening up this ax of mine.”
Nuala smiled and put her hand across the table to lay it on Brian’s.
“Success would be of little worth, Yellow Brian,” she said softly, and her eyes steadied him, “if it
were won without reverses. Few men have the luck to win always, and a touch of defeat is not an ill thing, perhaps. When we had this news of you from Galway, a week since, I sent off a galley to find Blake at the Cove of Cork and seek aid of him. Also my kinsmen will return to Gorumna before going home to Erris, and we are not in hard case here. So now get rested, Brian Buidh, and afterward we will see what may be done. Those Millhaven men have not yet passed Erris, or I would have word of it by pigeon, so they have doubtless delayed to plunder in Sligo or Killala.”
Brian looked into her eyes, and from that moment he began to put behind him all thoughts of capturing that Millhaven castle for himself or of placing himself out of touch with Nuala O’Malley. He went to his chamber as she bade, and slept that night and the next day and the night after, waking on the second morning still empty of sleep and seeming more weary than when he had laid down.
This was but seeming, however, and when he had bathed and eaten he felt more like himself than for many a day.
Cathbarr had departed at dawn with a wagon-load of powder to trade for kine with his O’Flaherty kinsmen in the hills, and before Brian had broken his fast one of the galleys from Gorumna came over with three pigeons for Nuala. The cage was brought to her as she sat at meat with Brian in the hall, and she opened the tiny messages with all the delighted anticipation of a girl.
“This is from that galley I sent to Cork,” she exclaimed, laying down the first. “It merely reports safe arrival and the delivery of my letter to Blake, who is leaving there before long. Now for the—ah!”
“Good news or bad?” smiled Brian easily, as animation flashed into her face. She looked up at him with a rippling laugh.
“Both, Brian! This is from Erris, and says that the O’Donnell seamen have made a landing at Ballycastle under Downpatrick Head, and will likely put to sea again in a day or two. They will give Erris a wide berth, never fear, and that means that they will make no pause until they come to Galway.”
The third message was from Galway itself, and said that the Dark Master was biding the coming of those Millhaven men, and had been promised both horsemen and shot if they came, so that Bertragh might be taken and held for Ireland against the Parliament.
“It is not taken yet,” laughed Nuala as old Turlough came shuffling up, and they gave him the sele of the day merrily enough. “You had best keep these birds, Brian, so that if there is any need you may send me messages to Gorumna. Now, shall we bide here until the Dark Master comes against us?”
“I thought you were going to take me cruising with you?” smiled Brian, but at that Turlough struck in and asked what the messages were. When he had heard them he stood pulling at his gray beard for a little, then turned to Brian.
“How is your body, master?”
“Well enough,” said Brian, feeling his head. “Save for this beard, which now I may not cut for a time.”
He intended to abide by that oath of his, and so his beard was growing out and his hair as well, of which latter he was glad.
Since he had ever kept his face clean shaven, however, the beard was not to his liking. He was quite unaware that it built out his face greatly and made him grimmer-looking than before, and yet so young were his blue eyes except when he was in anger that it was not hard for Nuala to believe that he was only two years older than herself.
None the less, she made great sport of his beard, saying that it curled at the end like a drake’s tail, as indeed it did; and as Brian only repaid her laughter with the open wonder and admiration that he held for her, there was great good-comradeship between them.
“There is still one chance for stopping the Dark Master,” said Turlough thoughtfully. “If we cut off those pirate ships on their way south he is not like to get much help from Galway.”
“Oh—and I never thought of it!” cried Nuala, staring at him.
Turlough chuckled. “That was spoken like a woman, mistress! If the rede seems good we could lay aboard men from here for fighting, and sail out with those two ships of yours.”
Now Brian’s heart filled with new hope, and after no long discussion they decided to adopt the plan. Nuala was of the opinion that a short cruise would do Brian great good, so they decided to set off that evening in her two ships, leaving Turlough to keep the castle against Cathbarr’s return.
Had they taken Turlough Wolf with them or had Brian been less close-mouthed on his return from that cruise, the evil that befell might have been averted. The old man was cunning and swift at piercing beneath the craft of other men and turning it back upon themselves; but as Brian’s mind lost its bitterness at his own failure it gained joy at being with the Bird Daughter, while Nuala had no less friendship and liking for him, so that neither of them gave much thought to O’Donnell Dubh who lay in Galway and bided his time after his own fashion.
Once having reached their decision, they hastened it somewhat and sent men and muskets aboard the two ships at noon. Nuala wished to sail first to Gorumna Castle and make all safe there, then reach back for Slyne Head. She proposed that Brian take one carack and she the other, but at this Brian laughed.
“No, lady—I am no seaman, and I am your guest on this cruise, so I go with you.”
“Well, you shall have good guesting,” she answered, flushing a little, but her eyes not flinching from his, and so they went aboard her ship together.
Having two hundred men still, Brian had put fifty on each ship in case they met with those pirates, who were like to give good battle. Also Turlough had hopes that many of Brian’s men would win home from that riding of his yet, since a large part of them had dropped out by the way or had been left behind with wounds. And in the end, indeed, fifty or less did find their way back.
Before night they made Gorumna Castle, and Brian found why they had come here first. With her Kerry recruits, Nuala had a hundred and eighty men, so she had set to work to build a tower and small keep on the opposite island, that Gorumna itself might be more easily defended. Also she had taken some falconets and two bastards out of a large French ship, and had set about building a battery outside the castle that would overlook the harbor.
“That will be better than good when it is done,” said Brian approvingly. “But you had best get it done speedily. When we come back from this cruise you shall take this hundred men of mine, for I will not need them until the Dark Master comes, and of that we shall have good warning.”
This she was glad of, and she was glad because Brian had found her work well planned; nor did either of them suspect what grief that loan of a hundred men was to bring upon Brian.
They paused only to sup at Gorumna, then set forth again, and by dawn were off Slyne Head with a light breeze behind them. Nuala would take no chance of missing those Millhaven men, so instead of going north among the islands she turned her ships and beat off Slyne all that day, seeing no sail save fishing-craft.
Those were pleasant hours for Brian, for the sea was fair and he had naught to do but sit with the Bird Daughter. He found himself drawn ever closer to her, admiring her wit and fairness as he did, and he fancied that she was by no means unwilling to talk with him and open her mind as she did to few men. Yet he remembered that he was no more than her vassal, a landless man in truth.
That night the two caracks separated, standing well off the land and keeping good watch, but no sign did they catch of the O’Donnell pirates. Toward morning a stiff wind came upon them from the west, and Brian’s men, being all landsmen, got no great joy out of that cruise.
“This wind is like to hold,” said Nuala, laughing as she stood on the poop with Brian that morning and watched the decks. “I am afraid that we might as well give over this attempt, Brian. Your men will be in no shape to fight. What think you?”
“Right,” nodded Brian slowly, for he saw that those men of his were worse than useless with their sickness.
So they turned about and drove before the wind, but before ever they had got past Slyne Head the men aloft descried a sail to the south that seeme
d like a large galley. Nuala signaled the other carack to bear down with her, and presently they made out that it was a large sailing galley, which headed straight for them.
“That is none of my ships,” exclaimed Nuala, watching. “It seems strange that she does not flee before us, Brian. She bears no ensign, yet she must be from these parts, and would naturally have some fear of pirates.”
Brian looked at her rather than the ship, and thought her a fine picture, with her body swinging a little to the sway of the deck and the wind blowing her red cloak around her. The galley came straight for them as if seeking speech, however, and when a falconet was fired from the carack without charge, she lowered her sail and put out her sweeps, coming straight for them.
Nuala sped a word to her sailing-master, and the men let down the sails with shouting and great creaking of ropes. The Bird Daughter stood under the high poop bulwark, and now she turned to Brian.
“Do you speak with them and find their business, for it seems to me that all is not as it should be, and they would likely know me too well.”
Brian nodded, and when the galley had come under their lee he saw that she was well laden, and had for crew a dozen rough-looking men. One of these replied to his hail.
“We are come from Galway, lord, with a gift of stores and wines from O’Donnell Dubh to certain friends of his whom we came to meet. Are you those friends, as we think?”
Brian started in surprise, but needed no word from Nuala. He saw that the Dark Master must have sent this galley out to meet the Millhaven men, and that the crew had taken the two caracks for those pirate ships.
“We are the O’Donnells from Millhaven,” he shouted, and ordered the seaman to cast down ropes to the galley. Her master, a stout man with bushy black beard, waved a hand in reply, and after another moment the two craft ground together. The master of the galley got aboard over the low waist of the carack, and Brian ordered a dozen of his own green-faced men down into the smaller ship. At this the galley’s master stared somewhat, but came up to the poop.
The H. Bedford-Jones Pulp Fiction Megapack Page 74
