Morgana nodded. "The only trouble is, if the two of you switch places, especially in the middle of Father's wake, there could be hell to pay.
"You're right, she could easily accuse me, and my power base is not yet stable enough, for all I have the O'Donnells helping me. I love all you've done to try to help, darling, but I need even more supporters if I'm ever to become and be able to remain tanaist.
"Aye, I know. With any luck, your cousins will be here soon." He moved over to the bars of the cell. "Just be careful, all right?"
"Oh aye, I have so much to live for now, remember. And I always keep my promises."
He grinned.
With one last warm kiss she took her leave of Ruairc.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The only bright events during the next two days was the arrival of two shiploads of supplies from Sligo and Assaroe. With the valuable provisions came her cousin Finn, and an entire crew from one of the Maguire’s missing ships.
“We were in Galway, when the authorities impounded it for lack of duty. We've had to march all the way from there to Sligo. We had hoped to get a ship from there to at least Belleek, but there were none to be had," Finn explained as he stripped off his heavy travelling cloak, and moved to embrace Morgana. "Worse than the march, we lost our cargo of wine to the English as well, adding injury to insult!”
“But what are you doing here? You look so pale,” he suddenly remarked, as he remembered she was meant to be at the convent at Kilgarven. “What is it, Morgana. What has happened?”
Morgana explained hurriedly in a hushed voice.
Finn immediately moved to the great hall to pay his respects to his dead foster-father. His shock was palpable—for a moment she was sure he would faint.
That answered her question—he was guiltless of any conspiracy against Morgan.
Morgana watched the tall, muscular brown-haired man with pale blue eyes as he wept inconsolably by the bier, and moved to his side to take his hand.
“If only I had been here, I might have saved him,” he groaned tearfully.
She led him away to a more private corner of the hall and whispered, “I doubt that. Whoever wanted Father dead would have found a way to kill him in the end. I am only glad that had and I got a chance to sort out our differences before it was too late.
"Now, come, Finn, I need you to be strong for me. I also need your help with a particular problem,” Morgana confided, as she led him up the stairs to her study.
Once inside and with the door locked, Morgana repeated the story of Morgan’s death and reveal all that had taken place between herself and Ruairc.
“So Ruairc was really innocent all along. I'm so glad.” Finn smiled gently.
“Yet now the finger points at him again thanks to Aofa. I need you to keep an eye on him, make sure no harm comes to him from either Aofa or Mary. But I also need his help.I can’t have him locked up in the dungeon for much longer. I want the two of you to be my right hand, overseeing, helping. If I am ever to get Tulach and Ma Niadh in order again, I must have support, and above all secrecy. I was hoping you and Patrick would both be back by now, but there's still no word of him.”
His brows knit for a time, but there could be any number of reasons for the delays. “He must be on his way home from Scotland, if the messages came through,” Finn said hopefully.
“They might not have, since we've had so much trouble with the O’Donnells,” Morgana explained, as she highlighted the recent situation in Belleek and the accord she and Ronan had finally reached.
"Well, that explains why we had so much difficulty in Galway, Sligo and Belleek. No one wanted to help us for fear of the O'Donnells taking it amiss. They aren't as volatile as some other clans in the area, for Ronan has a good head on his shoulders and a fairly even temper."
"Aye, that's pretty much the only thing that saved us."
"That and his love for you and regard for Morgan," Finn added with a fond smile. "But if it had been one of the other clans, well…. And Ronan was prepared to give you all the benefit of the doubt, and not retaliate. Otherwise, it ccould have been full-scale war."
"Mayhap who ever caused the trouble was hoping he would lose his temper, so they could offer to help my father deal with hosilities?"
Finn nodded slowly. "Or worse still, look forward to the clan being still further weakened or even decimated if you had been attacked."
"As for trouble at the ports, well, there's something else you need to know.
"Oh God, what now?"
When she told Finn about the duty on their trade, he exclaimed, “That is impossible! We have never done that volume of trade!”
Morgana shook her head. “I'm beginning to think it might be possible after all. It could represent the value of the cargoes, rather than the volume. All that gold and silver. All it would have taken was one or two ships to lie about their cargo, and the authorities would have exacted heavy penalties when they caught them in a lie,” she speculated. "Believed that all of our ships were carrying the same, and that we had been lying all along. Thus they would have levied the duties, plus fines."
Finn looked outraged at the very idea.“But all of your captains are honest!None of us would....”
“Aye, you and I both know that, however, the fact remains that the O’Donnells said they were attacked by Maguire ships. Yet we also know that this was unlikely to be the case both because of our regard for them, and the fact that so many of our ships are missing."
He paced up and down in front of her desk, tapping his left fist against his thigh impatiently in a gesture she remembered of old. “So someone is making it seem as if they are our ships, and through their lies we have incurred these heavy penalties,” Finn said, his eyes lighting up as he made the connections.
“Which is why I had the O’Donnell minter make me a new official seal, and it will be registered at every port,” Morgana revealed with a grin. “We have changed the colours on our pennants too, to blue and yellow check. The O’Donnells and O’Connors know of these changes as well, so if any phantom Maguire ships reappear bearing our old colors of red and white, they are to challenge them.”
“You are a clever woman, my dear,” her cousin praised, as he fondly ruffled her hair.
“It’s going to take more than brains to win this battle, as well you know, Finn,” Morgana sighed.
“I am sorry about Morgan, but at the same time, you're about to fulfil your destiny, Morgana Maguire, and I know you will be up to the task.”
“It is as the Lord wills,” Morgana said resignedly, and rose from her desk to show her cousin to his room.
“I will help you with the castles," Finn reassured her before they stepped out of the room. "I don’t think anyone has seen the stores or the whole crew yet, so if you go down now, we can give them instructions to go get everything started at the other two castles.”
“I’ll do it now,” Morgana agreed. “There will be some things already there, but if there isn’t enough to go around, they will just have to make do. How many men are there?”
“One hundred and ten, with about one hundred of them completely fit for service,” Finn replied.
“Then I’ll divide the crew in half and have them make a start at each site.”
“And I’ll go out tomorrow to supervise them all,” Finn offered, "just as soon as the funeral is over."
They stood in silence outside his door for a moment, both deeply saddened at the recollection that all their wonderful plans for improving the clan would never have been necessary if Morgan had been a better leader. And how their future was going to be without him.
“Thank you, Finn, for everything. I knew I could count on you. Ruairc was just saying this morning that you would be home to help soon. Thank God for it. It’s good to have you home,” Morgana said as she hugged him to her with relief.
Finn sighed. “It’s good to be home, my dear, whatever the circumstances. I loved your father, and he me. And he loved you, for all he was so unkind at times. I think he
did it to toughen you up more than anything else. ”
"Well, in that case I must have a hide on me like a wild boar by now."
He grinned and touched her cheek. "Nay, petal soft, and even more lovely than when you left two years ago. Ruairc MacMahon always was a lucky devil."
"And you, Finn? How is your luck running?"
"Until I meet another woman like you, Sweetheart, slim to none."
A thought struck her then, and she whispered to him her one final secret.
"Did you know?"
He looked aghast. "No, never. I mean, not that I have anything against her, and it's not that shocking. I mean, we all know the stereotype of the lusty widow. But he was her son's age, nay, younger."
"Then it's clear Conor didn't confide in any of the people closest to him about something so private. Which makes me wonder what else he was doing behind our backs which might have got him killed."
"You don't think Mary—"
She shook her head. "I don't what to think. So either he was involved in some way with some other people in a manner which was not something he wanted to have brought to light, and they killed him, or it was one of my family here, Aofa, or Mary or Fergus being at the top of the list."
"And either they were in love, and afraid of being separated, or it really was a meaningless roll in the hay for him. Otherwise I am sure he would have told one of us. Especially Ruairc."
She nodded. "Aye, that's what I think too, but thank you for confirming my estimation of the situation. It may be important, it may not be. All I know is the truth is out there somewhere, and I intend to find it before it's too late."
He nodded. "You will, and I'll be here to help."
They hugged each other, and then headed off on their respective errands, Finn to get cleaned up after his many days of travelling, and Morgana to see to her father's funeral.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The morning of her father's funeral dawned cold and grey. Morgana, up again for the second night of the wake, moved numbly downstairs to the kitchen to stoke up the fires and get the ovens heated for the baking. She had just finished kneading the dough for the second time when she heard a shout. Wiping her floury hands on her apron, she climbed to the floor above, and walked out the large portal of the castle. Through the eerie mist she could make out a ship’s mast, and ran down to the causeway that linked her castle with the jetty.
Morgana blinked disbelievingly as she stared into the swirling fog and began to make out the approaching form.
“Patrick!” she cried, overjoyed, and ran into his waiting arms.
Patrick tall and wiry, with glowing red hair and kindly grey eyes full of mirth said, “Well I’ll be blowed! That’s a greeting worth coming home for!What on earth are you doing here? You’re meant to be a nun, or did they kick you out for bad behaviour? Where’s Father? Is Finn here?”
Patrick’s face fell as she informed him that he had arrived just in time for Morgan’s funeral.
As he began to weep, she lead him into the great hall.
They sat together and talked in whispers as she explained all that had happened in the few short days since she had returned from the convent at Kilgarven.
Once again, she was convinced of her cousin's complete innocence from her reaction to all her news. He looked as though he had been struck a physical blow, he was so stunned.
When she was sure she had answered his most pressing questions and she could leave him, Morgana rose to finish her most urgent chores.
“I must make some last minute preparations for the funeral feast, so if you could go up to your room and find something suitable to wear, I shall get Mary to bring you some hot water for a wash. Then we will have many plans to discuss after it is all over.”
“Whatever you say,” Patrick agreed numbly. "I was so eager to get home. I never imagined it would be to circumstances like this. He shuffled sadly out of the hall to break the news to his crew so they could get ready for the funeral as well.
Morgana went down to the dungeons to see Ruairc, who was overjoyed that Patrick had returned safely, and that both he and Finn were willing to support her efforts to regenerate the clan.
“But come, we can talk more later. It's time for you to start getting ready for the funeral.”
Morgana opened the cell door and kissed his unshaven face tenderly.
“And you, Morgana, what will you wear?” Ruairc asked suddenly.
“I hadn’t given it much thought, to tell you the truth,” Morgana replied distractedly.
Ruairc cleared his throat, and said quietly, “If you look in your wardrobe, Morgana, you’ll find some gowns I had intended for you once we were married.”
“But Ruairc, there aren’t any gowns hanging in my wardrobe apart from the oldest ones.”
Ruairc frowned. “Perhaps Aofa helped herself to them then?”
“Oh Ruairc, they weren’t encrusted with jewels, were they?” Morgana gasped.
“No, but there were about a dozen in fine brocades and two black velvet ones, either of which it would please me to see you wear.”
“Good lord, Ruairc! I’m so sorry! I’ve given them all away! I thought they were Niamh, since they were so lovely, and in amongst all the other things Aofa stole. I bundled them up, thinking she was being kind and helping me save face by not admitting how much had been pilfered from her.”
“’Tis no matter then. You might be able to get them back, or not. It matters not a jot to me. They were only dresses, my love, ‘tis nothing to distress yourself over,” Ruairc soothed as unshed tears sparkled in Morgana’s eyes.
“But it was the thought that was important.You loved me enough to buy them for me,” Morgana sighed.
Ruairc hugged her to him, and stroked her cheek lovingly. “I shall buy you as many as you like, Morgana, if only you will marry me one day soon. Now, go see if you can get them back from Matthew the tailor, and if you can’t, then you’ll just have to wear one of your old ones. But we will need to hurry.Father Doyle will be here soon.”
Morgana left Ruairc at the foot of the stairs as she raced to Niamh's room and admitted her error about the gowns.
Niamh took it in good part, hugging her friend, and sorted through the bundle.
"They're a bit crumpled, since I've barely had time to eat since we came for our visit. I should have notived there were too many, and that some were black,” Niamh said. “An unlucky colour, black, but it always did suit you somehow, with your vivid hair and snowy complexion.”
Niamh observed Morgana as she held up the gowns to her slender form.
Morgana moved to and fro to try to get a better look at herself in the small mirror sitting atop one of the coffers.
"I've never had anything finer." She said, stroking the luxurious fabric. She stared at her reflection, and couldn't help notice how her fair skin, auburn hair and violet eyes glowed against the ebony velvet.
“Thank you, Niamh!” she called delightedly as she raced to her room to try them on.
Though she was ever concious of the sad occasion, Morgana couldn’t help feeling delight over these two fine presents Ruairc had been kind enough to purchase for her.
The first dress she tried had golden embroidery all around the curved neckline and long flowing sleeves, and it had a matching golden embroidered girdle which set off her tiny waist and shapely hips to perfection.
The second gown was plain black apart from some thin strips of embroidery around the edge of the puffed sleeves and piping all around the square neckline. But the underskirt was the key to the whole exquisite gown, for when she walked, the black pleats opened up to reveal a cream coloured silken panel with exotic birds and plants embroidered on the fabric in a rainbow of colours.
Morgana knew it was too fine to wear to the funeral, so she put it in the wardrobe carefully before donning the first gown, and then securing the girdle around her waist.
A sudden glance at the top of her chest caused Morgana to take off the girdle again, as she stra
pped her sword around her waist instead.
Then she refastened the golden girdle over it, and moved the hilt of the sword to within easy reach of her hand.
Morgana rummaged into her drawers until she found a plain black veil to cover her hair. She tugged at her unruly auburn tresses furiously with a brush as she tried to untangle all the knots.
She plaited her hair, and coiled the long queue which hung well past her hips into a neat roll high at the back of her head.She secured the veil to the top of her head, and left it thrown back as she returned to the great hall to make a last check on the preparations for the funeral.
Ruairc entered last, looking resplendent in a black tunic with slashed sleeves with red silk, black trunk hose, and a gold chain around his neck on the end of which hung a heavy cross which Morgana thought looked oddly familiar.
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