The Faithful Heart

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  “Morgana, that's a bit harsh toward your sister, is it not? And Fergus is a McGee as well as a Maguire. He is not without friends,” Ruairc pointed out astutely.

  “Ruairc, it is the only way,” Morgana insisted, hauling the clothes out of the wardrobe by the armful.“We cannot afford to let them find out where all these things are going. Find me as many oxen carts as you can, and get all this ready to go to the ships.”

  Ruairc selected one of the servant to take a message about the ox carts, before returning to the awesome task of gathering up all the wealth in the room.

  “Most of the ships are at Belleek, Morgana,” Ruairc reminded her.

  “Then we will send the treasure there!”’ Morgana shrugged.

  “There will be danger from robbers,”’ Ruairc warned.

  “I know, but what choice do we have? We need food, sensible items like candles, tar, ropes, a bull, I don’t know what else!I haven’t seen the ships yet, but they tell me the fleet is in desperate shape. We may need to make repairs on dozens of ships,” Morgana said, her worry evident in her tone.

  Ruairc stopped gathering up silver trinkets for a moment, and went over to rest his hand on her shoulder.

  “No, you won’t, my love. Remember what I said about your ships from Corunna?”

  “Aye, but..”

  “You only have nine of them left.”

  “Well, losing one is a blow, but....”

  “No, Morgana, that’s all you have.Don’t you see, all the others are gone,” Ruairc revealed quietly.

  “I don’t believe it!Thirty ships don’t just disappear!”

  Ruairc stroked her cheek soothingly. “I’m sorry, Morgana, I told you it was bad.”

  Morgana pulled away from Ruairc’s soothing caresses, and went to gaze out the window. Below she saw the first of the carts being loaded, all the men and women working tirelessly without complaint.

  She turned to gaze at Ruairc’s emerald green eyes, and answered his unspoken question with a lift of her chin.

  “Well, nine ships are better than none, and as you say, they are the best in the fleet,” she declared firmly.

  Ruairc smiled then, relieved that Morgana was not to be so easily defeated even by a huge setback like the loss of her fleet. “Patrick is apparently on the last ship, and we still have no word of Finn, but with any luck, that will bring the fleet up to eleven.”

  “Which one does Patrick have?”

  “The Faithful Heart’” Ruairc said softly, recalling the day when she had christened it, giving it the name he had always called her. “Don’t worry, she’ll be back. She’s weathered every storm so far.”

  Morgana blushed at the double meaning, and the painful recollections of how much she and the powerful man by her side had shared, good and bad, throughout the past ten years since they had first met.

  “I shouldn’t take up your time doing this, really.” Morgana moved away from his solid, reassuring presence. “You must be tired after your long journey. Since everything is under control here now at Lisleavan, you might wish to go back to Dublin.”

  “I have no pressing business there, and I have no intention of leaving you or your father until matters are more stable here,” Ruairc said firmly.

  “In that case, please supervise the cleaning of the castle tomorrow, and ensure that any other contraband goods are got rid of. And stay close to Father. I know he says he feels better after your aunt’s medicine, but the danger is that he will overdo things and have a relapse.”

  “Whatever you wish, Morgana, but where will you be?” Ruairc replied with a formal little bow, and a piercing look at the inscrutable woman by his side.

  “Oh, around the estate,” she said with a shrug, hoping he couldn’t read her expression.

  Ruairc nodded, though he looked as if he didn’t believe a word she had said.

  He withdrew without any further protest or questions, which surprised but also relieved her. Even in this large room with servants coming and going, he had seemed too near, too intimate.

  As soon as he had gone, she took a last look in each of the coffers, stunned at the wealth in each. Yet why spend so much on material things, when ready cash was much more valuable. Unless of course they had got all this on credit somehow, in which case, the estate would be in a vast amount of debt…

  And if they were this wealthy, why would they not have gone to Dublin or even London and shown off their fashion in society, made a name for themselves. Why stay in the Donegal hinterland and horde all they had like a dragon's treasure trove?

  Once she had finished with Fergus's chamber, Morgana went into the remain rooms on that floor to sweep the few remaining valuables Aofa hadn’t taken for herself into baskets. They were taken downstairs and added to the growing pile of treasure on the carts.

  At last, around midnight, Morgana reached the apartments of her dead step-mother. Though she doubted there would be anything of value there, since she herself had stripped the rooms bare five years before, she thought it best to go in for a quick look around.

  Morgana tried every key on the household bunch, but not one of them would open the lock. She then tried several keys from the bunch which she had taken from Fergus, and at last was able to open the door with a hearty shove.

  Morgana was so astonished at what she saw, she dropped her candle and slammed the door again.

  Quaking in an agony of indecision, she grabbed a torch from one of the wall brackets.

  She was about to open the door again, when she heard Ruairc say, “What are you doing? No one is meant to use these rooms anymore.Your father ordered them to be kept locked.”

  Morgana’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.Her brain whirled with unspoken fears, and though she knew she had doubts about Ruairc’s trustworthiness, his casual conversation about the dissolution of the monasteries which they had had on their ride back home now haunted her.

  Ruairc had taken her to visit two of his cousins at a nearby religious house many years before, and he was probably the only one who would be able to tell her the truth.

  She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his hand. “Come with me,” she demanded, dragging him into the room and slamming the door behind them both. "I hope to God I'm wrong, but please tell me, am I right in saying that I think I know where all this has come from?”

  Morgana held the torch high.

  Ruairc gasped, and clutched the door frame for support. "God in Heaven." He crossed himself.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?These things are from St. Stephen’s and the Augustinian Friary, aren’t they?” she whispered into the eerie silence.

  “How? Why?” Ruairc stammered, as he lifted a silver chalice to confirm Morgana’s suspicions were correct. “When?”

  “How long ago were they dissolved?”

  “Less than a month ago.”

  Morgana looked around, and picked up a golden salver, which she was certain still had blood on it.

  “We must get these things out of here! We have no right to them. They’ve been stolen from the Church!” Morgana declared.

  “But, Morgana, surely your need is greater. What’s done is done. The monks are all dead or scattered, the religious houses in ruins,” Ruairc pointed out.

  “What are you suggesting, that we keep all this?” Morgana gasped.

  “No, that you sell it, us it to get the clan back to its former glory,” Ruairc suggested.

  “No, Ruairc, I would be sorely tempted were it not for the fact that I refuse to profit from the death and misfortune of so many innocent priests. We will send the treasures to Aunt Agatha. She will look after them.”

  “And what if their convent too is dissolved?” Ruairc asked softly.

  He stiffened, but shook her head. “I’ll worry about that later. Right now, I will have to find another cart and some trustworthy men.”

  Morgana locked the door securely, and went down to the lower level, where the carts were filling fast.

  “Get me two carts, and two s
turdy men,” she told Mary.

  A shriek pierced the evening air.

  “What on earth was that?” Ruairc gasped, jumping half way out of his skin. "The banshee?"

  “In a manner of speaking. It's Aofa, keening for the death of all her hopes. I imagine after her palatial apartments, the dungeons are a bit of a disappointment, but then we all have our crosses to bear.” Morgana smiled tightly. “You can let her out tomorrow, Mary, at dinner time.”

  “And Fergus?”

  “Fergus can rot until I return,” Morgana said offhandedly, as she went with the carts to the back of the castle.

  She and the two men soon set up a basket with a rope and pulley to get the valuables out of the window and down into the waiting carts in the hope that as few people as possible would see the monastic treasures. To have been involved with attacking a holy house, or to have take bounty from the raids, was not something her clan could ever forgive.

  Morgana and Ruairc then went up the stairs, and loaded the basket tirelessly, managing to get even the heaviest pieces down without harming them.

  After two hours the carts were both full to the brim, and Morgana sent them out under cover of darkness, with Sean accompanying them as far as the convent on his way to his brother in Omagh.

  “You’ve done enough, Morgana, it’s been a long day, and you need your rest.”

  Morgana was about to argue, when she decided it would best served her purposes to make Ruairc believe she was following his advice.

  “Aye, you’re right, I am very weary. A few hours’ rest surely won’t make that much difference.”

  Ruairc looked dubious, but a convincing yawn persuaded him she was sincere. He walked up to her room with her, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

  “Sweet dreams, my dear,” Ruairc murmured, before disappearing down the corridor.

  Morgana entered her bedroom, and tied her cloak around herself securely. As soon as she was sure Ruairc was safely in his room down the corridor, she crept down the spiral staircase and out into the stableyard, and told the waggoners to get ready to leave.

  She saddled her own horse, and mounted. “Right, let us go. I will ride on ahead to scout. You men, lock the gate behind me when I leave. No one is to come in or out, is that clear? No one. Open the gates for no one except myself Finn or Patrick, is that clear?”

  Then Morgana spurred her horse, and galloped out into the darkness, heading for Belleek with the convoy of carts trailing along behind.

  As she thundered down the road, she heard Ruairc’s voice echoing over the castle battlements calling for her to come back.

  Morgana merely raised her arm in salute, and saw the gates closed and barred behind her.

  Ruairc was willing to give her his support, she knew, but this was not his fight. She had to get rid of the contraband goods, or face accusations of piracy. More importantly, she had to find out what had happened to her once glorious fleet. Only Patrick and Finn, and the Maguire ship captains could help her now.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In order to avoid any hills for the journey with the heavily laden carts, Morgana chosen the southern route to Belleek. Though exhausted, she rode tall in her saddle, for Morgana knew the eyes of all the men were upon her, looking to her for leadership in the midst of the crisis.

  She couldn’t afford to let the clan down, for instinct told her this was to be a battle for her family’s very survival. True, her father was ill and might even die, but Morgana had seen the Maguires through many troubles in the past, and she was damned if she was going to let the MacMahons get the better of her.

  Morgana knew all of the setbacks her family had suffered could not have been mere chance. The Maguire and MacMahon clans were so close to one another geographically, it would have been very easy for Ruairc’s brothers Dermot and Brendan to make trouble. Furthermore, her family’s own generosity in allowing the MacMahons access to the huge lough at Kesh might go some way towards explaining the disappearance of some of her ships.

  However, to go up there and investigate would leave her and the clan open to attack, and she didn’t wish to show her hand just yet, certainly not until she was more certain of her position at Belleek.

  The carts got bogged down several times in the thick mud left by the harsh winter and the early spring rains, so that the party had to halt and shore up the wheels with wooden slats until the oxen could pull the vehicles free. It was time-consuming work, and Morgana herself had to dismount more than once to get her back up against the cart.

  A steady drizzle which had started just as they had left Lisleavan also hampered their efforts, and Morgana began to wonder if she ought to abandon the expedition after all. She had two other castles on this shore, Má Niadh and Tulach, and she was curious to see how they had fared in the past two years that she had been in the convent.

  She turned to one of her companions, a stout young lad called Colm, and asked, “Do you think we should stop at Má Niadh?The weather seems to be worsening.”

  “The castle there is nearly deserted. There's no food, no weapons. We couldn’t fend off an attack if anyone decided they wanted to steal the cargo.”

  “Where is everyone?I left men in charge...”

  “The castles were stripped of their valuables by your sister and Fergus, and the men told to go beg for their bread elsewhere. I hear many have gone to Cavan and Sligo.”

  She swallowed her fury and said in an even tone, “In that case, after we get this treasure safely to Belleek, I want you to go on to Cavan, and I will need someone else trustworthy to go to Sligo, to tell them I am back, and I wish them to meet me at the caves if they would like to return and throw in their lot with me.”

  “You fear trouble with the MacMahons and I can’t say I blame you. These are odd times were are living in, and every step seems fraught with danger,” Colm said sagely. “You can trust me, and I shall ask Stephen over there to go to Sligo and convey your message.We are all pleased you are home.”

  “Thank you.” Morgana smiled. “I’m glad to be home.”

  They passed the deserted castle of Má Niadh, its gates chained, its moat full of dead leaves and tree branches.

  “We are going to have a lot of work ahead of us to get things on an even keel again,” Morgana sighed, as she continue to take a turn leading the oxen in order to stay awake.

  “If you will forgive my saying this, Morgana, you ran away from your problems two years ago. Not that we blame you, but you're going to have to convince the men that you aren’t going to run again,” Colm pointed out astutely.

  “The welfare of this whole clan can’t simply rest upon me alone. New ideas and attitudes are going to have to be adopted if we are to be successful. If it means dividing responsibilities, accepting others, and just rolling up our sleeves to do whatever has to be done, we are all going to have to agree to it. I am officially the tanaist of the sept, but I am a woman after all. My cousins are both able men. Perhaps it is time to reward the faithful, root out the weak, and ensure the succession by marrying well.”

  “Will you leave the Church and marry Ruairc MacMahon then?” Colm asked bluntly.

  Even in the near dark Morgana could see the relief on his face at the very thought.

  She shook her head quickly. “I didn’t say that, I simply meant that my cousins ought to think about coming home and settling down, instead of trading all the time.”

  Colm nodded silently. He looked as though he would have said more, but she managed to cut him off effectively by saying, "And now, I had better get back to scouting the road."

  She knew it was cowardly, but how could she give him any answers about her relationship with Ruairc when she had non herself?

  So she re-mounted her horse and scouted on ahead, using the chill rain on her face to keep her awake, turning over in her mind all she had discovered ever since she had come home.

  Another seven miles brought them to the deserted castle at Tulach, and she again shivered in dread at the devastation, the em
ptiness of the land that had once been her home, and such a prosperous one too that it had been the envy of many in Donegal.

  “It can be as it once was, it can all be prosperous again,” Morgana murmured to herself, as she began to plan her strategy once she arrived in Belleek.

  It was not enough to sell the treasure and talk to the ship captains. She needed help, and knew just the person who was most likely to assist her if she played her cards diplomatically.

  They arrived at Belleek before dawn. Morgana was overjoyed to see her beloved ships resting at anchor in a small harbour by the ford across the river into town.