The Faithful Heart

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  Morgana gazed at her father, and an uncontrollable anger welled up inside her, though she could not have said from where. “You say all this now because you need my help. Apologising, asking for forgiveness. That was never your way, old man. You've never admitted you were wrong about anything in your life.

  "It may be because you think death is staring you in the face, but I will not let them harm you any longer, do you hear? Yet I fear that this is all a sham. That when you are well again, nothing will have changed. It will go back to Aofa being your precious little golden-haired princess, and me no better than a hired soldier, or scullery maid.”

  “In that I have been wrong as well. Trust no one, do you hear!” Morgan hissed like the foul serpent in the Garden of Eden. “When Finn and Patrick come, we will make plans.”

  “If they come,” Morgana sighed, suddenly feeling very much alone.

  “They will come, and you will fight. My battles are done, child, but yours are just beginning,” Morgan predicted.

  Her father lay back against the pillows, exhausted, and after helping him to a few more sips of the cordial, Morgana could see he was ready to sleep again.

  Just then, Ruairc came back to see how he was.

  "Let me sleep now. I shall talk with you both more later." He looked at the tall man by his side. "It's good to see you both. Thank you for bringing her home to me safely."

  "It's keeping her safe that worries me."

  "I'm trusting you with my life, and hers. With all of our lives, both of you. Be careful."

  Ruairc nodded. "That's the story of my life in Dublin. The men there will smile in your face even as they stab you in the back. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. All will be well, I give you my word. Rest now."

  Morgana was more grateful than she could say for his reassurance, and confidence. Whatever she thought he had done in the past, he was clearly not guilty of anything happening at Lisleavan now, and was lending her the support she needed most if she was ever to help her father and fulfull his wishes.

  So she made no demur as he offered his hand, and stepped out with him onto the landing.

  Her sister Aofa hovered on the stairs, but so stunned was Morgana with grief and worry that she barely glanced at her sister.

  Ruairc stiffened when he heard Aofa’s cloying tones inquiring after Morgan’s health.

  “He is very weak, as you well know, and does not wish to see anyone,” Ruairc said coldly.

  “I would so like to help,” Aofa purred, pushing herself between her sister and Ruairc so she could sidle up closely to the handsome man, “but all of my offers have been refused.”

  Ruairc stepped away from her nearness hastily, and declared firmly, “Your offers will continue to be refused as well." He gave her a pointed look which spoke volumes. "Your father gave orders that no one save myself and those to whom he has granted permission are to enter. He is still the chief of this clan, Aofa, as well as your father, so you will respect his wishes.”

  With a glint in her eye, she cooed, “I’m so glad you’re back to take charge of things, Ruairc. I need a man around here to help me.” She planted a kiss on Ruairc’s lips that was anything but sisterly, and disappeared down the winding stairs.

  Morgana stood there stunned, but a voice inside her argued logically that it made sense. Ruairc the favoured step-son, marrying the favourite, younger, more beautiful daughter. It was no concern of hers if she were returning to the convent, now was it?

  Still, the sight of them kissing scorched her with a white hot anger. Aofa had always had the best of everything, had taken everything Morgana. Now Ruairc was going to be next.

  “Morgana? Morgana? Are you all right?” he asked worriedly when he got no response from her.

  “Yes, of course, why shouldn’t I be?” she spat, when she realised she had been staring at Ruairc’s face for quite some time.

  “Come, I will take you to your room,” Ruairc offered kindly.

  Grasping her arm firmly before she could yank it away, Ruairc led her down the main staircase to a small bedroom with a large tester bed. On the coverlet lay a fresh gown, but Morgana stopped, and walked back out the door.

  “No, I can’t change clothes. My vows. I must go downstairs, and see what is happening in the kitchens.”

  She avoided gazing at the bed, for fear it would conjure up memories of the last time she had been at Lisleavan, when she and Ruairc had been in that bed together. He would have taken her then, had it not been for his sudden disappearance and the news of her brother’s death a short time later, just before he returned.

  Morgana risked a glance up at his face, but instead of an expression of triumph and mockery, a worldly man who had everything he could ever want, power, money, a willowy blond bride, she saw only sadness and regret.

  “My duties,” she murmured, and slipped away from Ruairc, though he called after her to wait for him.

  But after Morgana’s conversation with her father, there were more things to worry about than her relationship with Ruairc. Morgan Maguire might not recover, and even if he did, Morgana could see with her own eyes that the family fortunes had been in decline for a long time.

  Hitching up her skirts, Morgana marched out the door for the castle into the twilight to survey the situation for herself. Her father, the entire clan, was counting on her. She couldn’t afford to let them down.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Morgana walked through the confines of the castle, raising the hood of her black cloak to shield her grim features, and prevent too many people from knowing she had returned until she could see for herself exactly what the lay of the land was.

  She barely recognised the elegant home she had left only two years before. The animal pens were falling down, and the few beasts remaining were scraggy and thin.The sheep, once a prized herd, were practically bald, and the cows had stopped giving milk long ago.A few goats bleated piteously as she walked past, their ribs sticking out, their eyes dim. Goats thrived on pretty much anything. Their terrible condition signalled just how much deprivation everyone had been suffering there.

  The houses which had been placed inside the castle walls for essential services such as blacksmithing were eerily silent, and the stables nearly empty. The two good mounts she and Ruairc had come on from the convent looked sadly out of place, and there was barely enough for them to eat.

  “The horses, the animals, what has happened?” Morgana exclaimed in dismay.

  “We all seem to have a wasting sickness, a blight on the land. Ever since your brother died, if you will forgive my mentioning it,” said Owen, the head of the stables, bowing as he recognised her under her hood.

  “But what of Adam?He was meant to oversee things in my absence.”

  “He died a winter back. There has been little money coming in, for we have barely any more trade. The estates here are starved for supplies, and your father has taken no interest. He has left most things to the new steward, Fergus, and your sister, trying to get her to do her duty for the clan.”

  Morgana shook her head. Her father must have lost his wits, for Fergus MacGee, a distant cousin, was one of the most corrupt men she had ever met, and Aofa couldn’t tell the difference between a horse and a pig.

  “Adam’s son, Sean, is he still about?”

  “You’ll find him outside, in the village, with his mother. He and she are the last left of the family.”

  “But there were twelve sons!” Morgana gasped. “What has happened?”

  “Those who haven’t died have moved, off to Dublin or Armagh or even Scotland to find work.”

  Morgana thanked Owen, and hastened to the castle portal.Once outside, she practically ran away from the scene of devastation the castle precincts had become.

  But worse was to greet her outside, for the people remaining in the village were like walking skeletons, and she barely recognised Sean, so emaciated had he become. The defeat in his eyes was apparent as he spoke at length, recounting the catalogue of disasters which had befalle
n the clan.

  “The prize bull was drown by the river, only weeks before the mating time for the cows. The sheep suddenly developed a strange murrain, and those that didn’t die, became bald. Without cattle or wool, the clan is bound to fail.

  "I know I am ignorant of ships in the family, but we haven’t had any successful trade runs. Many of the ships have been lost at sea, or so they say, and those who have managed to come back, have been stripped of their cargo by pirates.”

  “Who has taken the cargo?” Morgana demanded.

  “People say it is the O’Donnells, but I think we should look closer to home.”

  “The MacMahons,” Morgana said flatly.

  Sean nodded.

  Morgana paced up and down in the filthy hovel, at a loss as to how to proceed. So much needed to be done, and she felt so alone.

  “I can do nothing about the ships until Patrick and Finn return, if they return,” she added uneasily, “but there must be something I can do now. There is desperate want here, and without people, this estate will starve.Owen tells me all your brothers are gone?”

  “Two of them died of starvation, before the rest finally agreed to leave, to seek their fortunes.”

  “Where are they now?Where is the nearest one?”

  “One is in Clones to the south, the other in Ballyshannon to the north west, with Angus up at Omagh.”

  “In that case, I want you to sent them messages, telling them to tell the old clansmen that I am back and in charge, and that they should secretly return, and assemble themselves in the caves. I will get food and supplies there, never fear. I am trusting you with the fate of the entire clan here, Sean. I hope you will not let me down.”

  Sean took her hand and kissed it. “I knew you would come, Morgana.I waited and waited, and I had almost given up hope. But I knew you would save us, Morgana. Whatever you wish me to do, I will do it.”

  “The next thing will be to get some stout lads to help. There must be some food in the castle stores. I want you to distribute it, and then I want you to go to Armagh, to sell some jewellery and plate, for gold if you can get it, and for food, supplies, and beasts if you can’t.”

  “It will cost you dearly, Morgana,” Sean warned.

  “It makes no difference. It will be more dear if we let the rest of this estate fall into ruin. Get ten men, tell them to come to the kitchens, contact your brothers, and I will come see you tomorrow with the jewels.Tell no one of your charge, and try to find a way of concealing the items about your person.”

  “Robbers have been plying their trade briskly hereabouts, but over by the convent their is a small pass through to Omagh. I will see Angus myself, and press on to Armagh from there.”

  “I must go. It’s getting late and I don’t want us to be seen together, or else they will know I trust you.”

  “There’s someone lurking over in the shadows over there!” Sean whispered suddenly.

  Morgana reacted promptly.

  “Kiss me, quickly,” she whispered to her childhood playfellow.

  He did as he was bid with only a second’s hesitation.

  The kiss was sweet, not exactly chaste, and Morgana wondered in the back of her mind why it didn’t compare with the kisses she had once shared with Ruairc.

  But then, I loved him, while I don’t love Sean, she reflected as she glanced around to see the figure moving towards her with rapid strides, and detected the rust velvet doublet under the cloak.

  “Thank you, Sean, I’ll see you soon,” Morgana said, grasping his shoulder before running away, pretending she hadn’t seen Ruairc as she went around the house and over to the baker’s hut.

  The shelves where the golden loaves had once been laid out in bounteous array were woefully empty. Morgana could see only the poorest-quality grain in the last remaining meal sack.

  “Michael, how has this happened?”

  “No mill, no grain.The stream dried up, and the mill stone cracked.”

  “Michael, millstones do not just crack!” Morgana said in exasperation.

  “All right then, it was deliberately destroyed by someone, and the water was used to flood the fields during harvest time.We could save nothing,” Michael admitted dejectedly.

  “The stream, what course is it running down now?”

  “We managed to unblock the diversion, so it is back to the old way, but without a millstone, it's useless.”

  “What about going to the quarry to get a new one?”

  “We haven’t enough men, Morgana.Many have left.”

  “I want you to go around looking for grain supplies, and I need you to persuade people to come back now that I am in charge again. I give you a week. At the end of the week we will meet at the caves. They will need food and water, but all must be done in secret, for I fear what will happen if the MacMahons find out that the Maguire clan are not just going to lay down quietly and die.”

  “And you, Morgana, are you staying?” Michael demanded.

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I am meant to be taking my vows in two weeks, but Patrick and Finn are coming. If they are here at the end of a fortnight, they can take over from me.”

  “No one can take over from you, Morgana, and well you know it," the tall young man asserted impatiently. "Conor would never have been half the man you are even had he lived, and your father knows it. He lost you both, and he has had little interest in anything since.”

  “He lost me a long time before that, Michael,” Morgana said bitterly.

  Her friend patted her on the shoulder. “Nothing worthwhile is gained without struggle, my dear.If you had been a pampered princess like your sister, all would have been very different. Given a choice, would you not rather be the way you are now, independent, strong, intelligent?” Michael argued.

  She smiled gently at his kind words. “You are right, of course. I can’t blame Father, not when he is so close to death. Now, I will come to you tomorrow with money for grain. Go to the midlands, all the way south if you have to, but we need wheat, barley, rye and oats.Sean is distributing food, but I want you to keep our meeting a secret from everyone.”

  “You have no need to fear us here, Morgana.All of us who are left stayed on because we hoped one day you would return. We would die for you, Morgana, as well you know.”

  Morgana hugged her old friend, and again, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ruairc lurking in the distance. “One last question.Has Mary stayed on as well?”

  “Aye, she’s in her shop, though few have any call for new clothes nowadays.”

  “I shall go to see her, and then head back to the castle to organise food.”

  “Bless you, Morgana,” Michael called.

  “And you, my dear friend.”

  Mary, a dark haired, attractive woman in her mid-thirties, who had once been Morgana’s housekeeper, before suddenly leaving to start her own business as a dressmaker, was overjoyed to see her young mistress.

  She gave her honest opinion of the situation. “It will all fall to wrack and ruin if we do not act soon. All the ships, the animals, nearly everything is gone now.”

  “Tell me about your son Seamus. Is he still alive?”

  “He is in Belleek, with the rest of the fleet, in winter quarters.”

  Morgana frowned. “We always sailed throughout the winter in the old days.”

  “Not with these ship you won’t.” Mary shook her head. “They haven’t enough men to crew them, and they’re in poor repair.”

  Morgana sighed. “I shall go out tomorrow, if Father is able to be left on his own. I need to see for myself just how bad it is. And with any luck I might get word of Patrick and Finn’s homecoming."

  Her companion nodded, and offered her some refreshment.

  Though Morgana was hungry, she refused. After all the deprivation she had seen that even, she was sure any morsel she partook of would choke her.

  "Nay, nothing for me, thank you, Mary. But there is something you can do for me."

  "Aye, if I can, my
lady."

  "I know you have your dressmaking busines, but I would count it as a great favor if you would come work for me again."

  She stared at Morgana. "How can I help?"

  "I want you to come back and take stock of all we have and all we need. I also want you to audit the family accounts. You could calculate our wealth down to the last penny in the old days, and will know what state our affairs were in two years ago. I have never trusted Fergus, and I will get back all he has stolen, that I promise you.”