Their glances met across the room, and she looked at him proudly, her head held high, as he feasted his eyes on her in the exquisite gown, and then began to move towards her.
Her violet eyes flashed him an unmistakable warning before he could advance too far, and conscious of all eyes in the room focussed upon them, Morgana turned her back on Ruairc and took Finn’s arm instead.
At last all was ready, and the grim procession walked to the nearby church of Killadeas, where her father's body was interred. Morgana’s mind went totally blank as the priest intoned the mass for the dead, and she would have stumbled several times on the walk to and from the church if Finn and Patrick had not been there to prop her up.
Morgana was conscious of the dark looks cast at Ruairc, and knew that tomorrow she would have to call the clan together for her investiture. Would it also be a convenient time to announce that she had decided to wed Ruairc?
Much as she wished to make her position perfectly clear once and for all, she hesitated. She had no idea of what the consequences of such a step might be. The only thing she did know for certain was that a traitor with a grudge against Ruairc was in their midst, and she had every reason to fear for his safety.
"I wonder," she muttered to herself, as she sipped a glass of wine and received condolences from the many guests who filed past.
Patrick overheard her, and asked, “What do you wonder?”
“If perhaps Dublin might not be the safest place for Ruairc right now. If I were to go back to the convent, he would leave, wouldn’t he?Could we not pretend that you or Finn are taking over the clan, and leave the investiture until after he is safely gone, so that no harm may come to him?”
“But Morgana, you and he have already wasted so much time!” Patrick disagreed. “It isn’t fair to separate the two of you again when you have only just found each other after two years of misunderstandings.”
“Ruairc’s safety must come first. I love him. I couldn’t bear it if anything were to happen to him because he came back here to help me.”
“Ruairc will never believe you. He will never think for a moment that you and the clan think you’d all be better off with myself or Finn in charge. Let alone that you've decided to return to the convent when you are so badly needed here.”
She bit her lip. Her own words of love, and romantic actions, would also give him serious cause to doubt. “I’ll just have to get things in order so that I can leave. Then I will pick a fight with him, and head back to the convent at Kilgarven. You can send word to me when he's gone back to Dublin and the coast is clear.”
“I think you should tell everyone he is innocent, clear the air once and for all,” Patrick urged.
“I can't allow him to stay here on my behalf when he's at such risk. Not when I can’t be sure who I can trust even under my own roof,” she argued hotly.
Just then Ruairc himself came up to speak to Morgana, and her conversation with her cousin had to come to an end.
She was sure he had overheard her, however, and his brows knit. Surely she wasn't including him in that grouping, not after all she had said to him in the dungeon?
When all the guests had either left or retired for the night, Morgana called Patrick and Finn into the study to outline the plans she had originally drawn up with the O’Donnells.
“Now that those two crews are back, it’s a start.Finn has a crew of one hundred and ten left, and I have sent them on to the castles on the lough shore. Patrick, how many have you left on ‘The Faithful Heart’?”
“One hundred and forty,” he replied.
“So if we split them into two groups of seventy men, that’s one hundred and twenty five men in each castle.Finn can take Ma Niadh, and Patrick Tulach.There are some supplies at each site already, but we will need to send more. Taking into account all of what we have done so far, if the O’Donnells give us the stonemasons and carpenters we were promised, how soon do you think we can be ready?”
“Within two weeks if we worked night and day, all of us,” Finn said enthusiastically.
“And of course, I have sent word for more men to come home. We may have more help than we dare hope at the minute if everyone comes. They are to meet me in the cave at Clashmore in two days’ time. However many of them are there, I shall divide them in half and send them to each of you,” Morgana stated.
“But Lisleavan still won’t be able to withstand an attack with the current numbers you have now,” Patrick warned her.
“That’s exactly what I want the enemy to think. If any more ships’ crews arrive, I shall pack the top of the castle with men as secretly as I can. Mary and Aofa mustn’t know what is happening under any circumstances. I will have to find some way of getting my sister out of the way. Perhaps sending Mary with her as chaperone is the best way. To handle both women.”
“Getting rid of two problems in one fell swoop sounds good to me,” Patrick laughed. He had never liked either woman, and Morgana’s suggestion would quickly rid them of two possible traitors.
“Right, Patrick, I want you to take a shipload of provisions, and animals, and all the men. Pretend you are heading for Belleek, and then heading back to Scotland on unfinished business. Drop the supplies and men off at Ma Niadh and Tulach, and send the ship on to Belleek for the masons and carpenters, and that stone from the quarry that Ronan promised us. Then just roll up your sleeves and get to work.”
“I sure hope some of the men can cook,“ Finn grumbled, as he rose and kissed his cousin good night.
Morgana walked down the corridor to her own room, and just as she was about to enter, her way was blocked by Ruairc.
“You’re up very late, Morgana.And from the way you look, I’m sure you haven’t slept once since your father died,” he remarked quietly.
“I will rest up for another couple of days.Then I'm going back to the convent, Ruairc,” Morgana informed him bluntly, and tried to skirt past him and head to her study. If she allowed him into her chamber, there was no telling what might happen between them.
Ruairc’s arm shot out to block her way. His eyes glowed with stunned confusion and anger. “But Morgana! You promised you would stay!”
“I know, but things are different now that Father is gone and the boys are back. I have a duty, and must see it through. It is foolish to think the family will accept a woman as their chief wholeheartedly, especially one allied to a MacMahon, and a MacMahon whom they believe guilty of not one murder but two,” Morgana argued, though it wounded her to have to injure him so badly.
Ruairc’s emerald eyes flashed furiously as his rage simmered just below the surface.
“But you said you believed me. You even drank the cordials right in front of meMorgana! What has happened to make you change your mind?” he raged.
Morgana made her face appear a cold mask of indifference. “Nothing has happened. I allowed myself to be seduced by your charm and my father’s plight into giving up my true vocation, but I've seen the error of my ways. My father’s death is a punishment upon us both for our sins of the flesh, and I must leave."
She ducked under his restraining arm and hurried down the hall to her study. The fewer witnesses to their conversation, the better. "And you have to go back to Dublin to take up your place in the Earl of Kildare’s court, where you will be doing far greater deeds for Ireland than you could as my husband in the Maguire territories with everyone against you.”
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded to her retreating back.
She pushed into her study and tried to prevent him from entering by partly swinging the door back shut. "I've told you—"
He swatted the door out of his way as though it were a fly. Then he was in the room, larger than life. She felt as though she could barely breathe, she wanted him so. But her fears for his safety forced her to stand firm and glare at him.
"And now, I have work to do."
"Why are you lying to me?" Ruairc shook her by the shoulders angrily.
She shook her head. "You know
it's for the best."
"I know no such thing, Morgana. You are what's best for this clan, better even than your own father, because unlike him, you possess love, compassion, and a level head. So I want the truth from you. Maybe you don't love me after all. Mayhap this is all guilt over us being in love happy together, despite what happened to your brother and father. Or perhaps you really don't love me. But hatever it is, Morgana, please respect me enough to tell me the truth."
Morgana refused to yield to his pleas. She stepped backwards away from him and went behind her desk to shield herself from his touch.
She steeled her resolve by reminding herself over and over again that he was in terrible danger. That for his sake he simply had to leave her and return to the Earl’s household, where as one of the nobleman’s most prized courtiers,no one would dare touch him.
When every guess he made as to why she was lying to him failed to get a response, Ruairc finally gave up his attempts to change her mind.
“All right, I can see I am only wasting my breath, but I wish for once your would tell me the truth.Do you love me, Morgana?”
She knew she ought to lie in order to get him to safety, but it was a lile too great to utter no matter what the reason. “I always have,” Morgana replied at length in a tiny voice.
“Then why are you doing this?”Ruairc begged.
“Because neither of us have a future here with this current state of affairs. And as you yourself pointed out in the crofter's hut the other night, you have needs just like any other man. You're nearer thirty than twenty, Ruairc.If you wish to marry well and start a family of your own, you had better get started,” she said nobly.
“Marry well!” Ruairc spat, as if the words were distasteful to him.
She hung her head in shame, and avoided his furious green gaze.
“Morgana, I have always loved you, but at the moment I hate you beyond measure!” Ruairc raged as he slammed out the door, and stormed into his own chamber, where he slammed the door behind him so violently the very walls of the castle shook.
Morgana rubbed her throbbing temples, and sat at the desk for a brief moment, forcing herself not to go after him and throw herself into his arms.
At length, when she finally calmed, she crept down the corridor to her own room, then entered and locked the door behind her. She removed the lovely black and gold gown Ruairc had given her, reflecting once again how lovely it was. How the fabric had fit her like a second skin, and been as soft as a caress. She donned a cotton nightgown, and slipped between her sheets exhaustedly.
She realized then that the last time she had slept in a proper bed had been at the convent. She had been working herself ragged, and needed to rest.
But the look on his face when she had told him she was leaving haunted her relentlessly. She tossed and turned for hours until sleep finally claimed her.
Though Morgana knew her heart would break once Ruairc had gone, she also knew it was impossible for him to stay. She would have to face the danger alone, and prayed that her courage wouldn’t desert her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Morgana was sure she had only just managed to drift off to sleep when she felt a hand grab her shoulder. She sat up with a shriek, struggling wildly.
“It’s only me, Morgana. You have nothing to fear,” Mary whispered.
Morgana reached over then and struck the tinderbox by her bed to light her candle.
“What is amiss, that you should have to wake me at this hour of the night?” she demanded, already calculating the distance between the bed and her sword. Mary was on her left. If she rolled right and grabbed for it…
“The men and women in the village are in a desperate plight. Many have been stricken with a terrible sickness, vomiting, the bloody flux, and they're in terrible pain!”
Though suspicious of Mary after her confrontation with her, she could discern nothing but terror on the woman's motherly features.
Morgana drew her legs up to a sitting position in the bed and tried to gather her thoughts together.
“Are they cold as well?” Morgana asked.
“Yes, they are, and dizzy.”
She swung her legs out of the bed and threw a simple undergown over her night rail as she bent to retrieve her boots.
“Right, get me whatever milk you can lay hands on, and the golden rod, marigold, and peppermint. The sorrel as well. How many are ill?”
“About thirty of them.”
“Can you help me? You’re not ill yourself, are you?” Morgana suddenly demanded when she saw Mary’s white face in the candlelight.
“I’m fine, only scared out of my wits. It seems as though the whole world has fallen apart,” Mary whispered tremulously.
“It’s not going to, do you hear me?We will help make these people well,” Morgana said with a confidence she wished she truly felt. She reached for her sword to buckle around her waist, then threw her warm cloak around her shoulders and descended the spiral stairs.
She saw that lanterns had been lit at the houses where people suffered from the mysterious sickness. One hysterical woman informed her that eight families had started showing signs of the dreadful symptoms.
“At least it isn’t the whole village,” Morgana remarked to herself grimly as she held a child’s head and tried to get it to drink some of the milk she had found on the table in a jug at the first house.
The groans of the sufferers all around her, and the appalling stench in the hut, as well as memories of her own dying father, spurred her on despite her weariness.
At last, she managed to get some of the liquid into each of the patients. When Mary arrived with the medicine, Morgana dosed each one of the sufferers, and moved on to the next house.
“Have we got any more hops or blackberry for stomach upset and flux?” Morgana asked as she tried to pry a tiny girl’s mouth open wide enough to pour down some milk.
The child spasmed violently, bit the head off the wooden spoon, and then began to choke.
“Help me, Mary!” Morgana shrieked, as the little face turned blue.
Mary thumped the child on the back. Morgana squeezed the girl’s abdomen hard. The bowl of the spoon flew out of the child’s mouth and sailed through the air, before finally landing on the floor.
“I’ve never seen that before,” Mary panted, astonished, as they laid the child back down again and attended to the other patients in the house.
“God, that was close.But I must remember that little trick again if I ever see someone choking,” Morgana sighed when they had gone outside to walk to the next house.
“You were very brave. You kept your wits about you, and saved that little girl’s life,” Mary praised sincerely.
She paused, and then said quietly, “Morgana, about the harsh words we had before. I am truly sorry....”
“Please, Mary, say nothing of it. It’s over now, and I would not have any ill feelings between us again.” Morgana waved the apology away, as she lifted another little boy of about ten and began to administer the milk and herbs.
Only when all of the patients had been seen to did Morgana try to discover the source of the poisoning.
“It can’t be the water, wine, or beer, for surely everyone in the village would be sick. It has to be something they ate. Since all the houses are next to one another, it has to be something that they’ve shared,” Morgana reasoned as she looked from house to house for any common factor which she could perceive.
“I don’t know, meat, the supplies from Sligo, perhaps?” Mary suggested.
“Whatever this was, it caused the same exact illness in my father, and that certainly didn’t come on any boat from Sligo,” Morgana said impatiently.
She looked around her for a time, and then rubbed her brow. “Now I can see an assassin poisoning one person, but to attack eight families makes no sense. Why not the whole village? No, a mistake was made somewhere, and I have to find it quickly. In the meantime, we must warn the villagers not to eat whatever was in the castle b
efore the ships arrived from Sligo.”
“It will be hard. People don’t like to waste food.”
Morgana rubbed her eyes, gritty with lack of sleep, as she tried to recollect what had been in the larders on the first day when she had distributed food.
“Mary, the vegetables! Father’s vegetables!” Morgana suddenly exclaimed.
“But Morgana,” Mary argued, “how is that possible?”
“He said he had started feeding himself from his own private stores, and got well for a time, but then had another relapse. Then he ate the things from Aunt Agatha, and was almost well again, before a massive dose of poison killed him,” Morgana outlined as she looked in each house for any baskets she recognised.
The Faithful Heart Page 20
