"Surely the Protestants cannot be so foolish as their brethren in Lisnaskea," Jasmine said. "We allowed them a refuge in this village when they were homeless, and the English were insisting they return to Holland after their ship, the Speedwell, sprang a leak in the Irish Sea. They are far more comfortable here than they would have been in the Plymouth Colony. We must keep the peace in Maguire's Ford! I will not allow intolerance to destroy my sons' inheritance!"
Rory looked at her, and at the daughter he could not acknowledge. This same prejudice that had caused the massacre and misery in Lisnaskea was responsible for sending Fortune and Kieran from Ulster. His old age would be as lonely as much of his life had been. He would never have the pleasure of watching his grandchildren grow up, even if they did not know who he really was to them. "The Catholics are just as bad, but I swear to you that I will keep the peace here, my lady Jasmine," he promised her fiercely.
"We will keep it together, Rory," she told him. "We won't allow anyone to destroy what we've done, what you've done all these years. Cullen, you'll speak to your people again?"
"Aye, Cousin, I will," the priest said.
For the next few days an almost eerie calm surrounded them. The duchess of Glenkirk had proclaimed her will personally in each church at Maguire's Ford. "If you cannot live in peace with your neighbors as you always have," she told the people, "then you must leave here. I will not have happen here what happened in Lisnaskea. Good people, both Protestant and Catholic died, and for what? We all worship the same God, my friends. Do you truly believe our God condones violence and murder of those who are different than we are? Does not the Bible preach love, and peace? Is not the fifth commandment, Thou shalt not kill? That commandment does not say thou shalt not kill except for…"
Sir Shane was buried without incident, Colleen Kelly and her husband standing like a buffer between Lady Jane, William, and Emily Anne; and Kieran, Fortune, and the Leslies. She had told her half-brother quite frankly that she would never forgive him for what he had done to their father, or to the Fitzgeralds. "You were always more one of them," Sir William sneered at her. "You are no longer welcome at Mallow Court, or your family either."
"You are beyond hope, William," she replied quietly.
***
The peace in Maguire's Ford held despite the rumors that were passed about daily, and despite the infiltrators from both faiths who sought to stir up trouble. Several survivors from Lisnaskea with family at Maguire's Ford had come to beg refuge of their kin, and were taken in which frightened some of the Protestants worried they might seek revenge upon any non-Catholic.
Kieran Devers spoke to Father Cullen, for he had the germ of an idea that he thought might solve part of the problem. "The duke tells me," he said, "that I will have an easier time of being accepted in Lord Calvert's expedition if I have my own vessel, and colonists who can help in building the colony when they settle upon a place. Since this is to be a colony for Catholics first and foremost, why should I not bring a shipload of good Irishmen and women with me?"
Fortune heard her husband's suggestion, and was in full agreement with him. "I have two ships of my own that ply the trade route," she told him. "There's a wonderful old, but quite sturdy vessel called the Cardiff Rose that brought Mama from India long ago. It should soon be returning from the East Indies run. Then I have a newer ship, the Highlander, in the Mediterranean. It will be returning to England come spring." She turned to her stepfather. "Could we not outfit both of these vessels, Papa, and sail them to the New World?"
"I should purchase my own ship," Kieran protested.
"Don't be foolish," his wife chided him. "We'll need the monies you have to outfit our ships. If it would make you feel better you may pay me a fee for leasing my ships."
"It's quite practical," the duke told his son-in-law, "and I know both the Cardiff Rose and the Highlander are well-maintained both above and below the water line. You cannot be certain of that if you buy a strange vessel, unless, of course, you have the ship dry docked for inspection before you purchase it, and it is doubtful its owner would allow you to do so because of the expense involved."
"And the Cardiff Rose has the most wonderful master cabin for us to travel in," she murmured at him, her eyes bright with her love.
James Leslie chuckled at his stepdaughter. How like her mother she was although she could not know it, he thought. "I am sorry to spoil your romantic dream, poppet," he said, "but it is unlikely many women will be allowed to go with Lord Calvert's expedition until it is decided where he will settle the colony, and housing is built."
"That's ridiculous!" Fortune said.
"Nonetheless that is the way it will probably be," the duke told her. "You have no choice, I fear."
"Then we shall not go," Fortune replied firmly.
"And where will you live then?" he asked her.
"We shall buy a house near Cadby, or Queen's Malvern," she said with what she thought was perfect logic, "or perhaps near Oxton so I may be near my sister, India."
"With your Irish Catholic husband?" the duke posed.
Fortune's face fell. "Oh dear," she said, suddenly realizing how foolish she must have sounded. "The Puritans in England are every bit as bad as the Protestants in Ulster where the Catholics are concerned, aren't they?" she reasoned aloud, not needing an answer to her own question. "We could go to France, or Spain," she suggested.
"Where you, my darling wife, would be every bit as discriminated against as I am in Protestant lands," he told her. "There is no help for it, Fortune. If we are to live together in peace we must go to the New World; and if Lord Calvert will have me, I may have to go alone until the colony is safe for women."
Before Fortune might protest further Adali came into the hall. "Father Cullen just sent word there is a large party of horsemen coming down upon the village from the direction of Lisnaskea, my lord. I thought, perhaps, that you would want to know. Your preparations are all in effect."
"What preparations?" Jasmine asked her husband.
"For the defense of both the village and the castle," her husband told her. "We canna allow that rabble from Lisnaskea to destroy Maguire's Ford as they did their own nest." He arose from his seat. "I must go and join the others."
"What others?" Jasmine demanded struggling to her own swollen feet. "I am coming with you, Jemmie. These lands are, after all, still mine, and I think it important that I am seen."
He wanted to argue with her, but he knew she was correct in her reasoning. Besides, he considered with a small chuckle, he would not dissuade her no matter what he said. "Come then, madame," he said.
"We're coming too," Fortune told them.
The duke of Glenkirk burst out laughing, but led the way without another word. They assembled in the square of Maguire's Ford with its tall stone Celtic cross at its center. The Reverend Mr. Steen, Father Cullen, and the town's leaders, both Protestant and Catholic, were awaiting them. About them the houses were shuttered and barred. Not even a dog, or a cat, wandered the street this day. Above them the skies were gray with the clouds of an impending autumnal storm, but on the western horizon a slash of blazing red and gold shone with the setting sun from beneath the clouds. Not a breeze stirred. Not a bird called. There was silence but for the faint hum of the mob which grew louder as it approached them.
Down the road into Maguire's Ford they came, led by William Devers upon a fine bay gelding. They carried torches, and the faces of the men behind Sir William were stone hard and without pity. Seeing the welcoming party ahead of them they stopped, and their master moved his mount slowly forward until he stood in front of the duke and his wife. He glared down at them.
"If you come in peace, Sir William," Jasmine said, "you are welcome here. If you do not come in peace, I would request you depart."
He pointedly ignored her, directing his speech to James Leslie instead. "Is it your custom, my lord, to allow a woman to speak for you?" he asked the duke insultingly.
James Leslie laughed mocking
ly at the young man. "Maguire's Ford and its castle belong to my wife, Sir William. I cannot speak for her any more than she would speak for me in matters pertaining to my possessions. Now, sir, my wife has asked you a question. Have the courtesy to answer it lest you betray your mother's base heritage."
William Devers flushed. He was being made a fool of before his own men, and he did not like it. He heard a faint snickering behind him, but did not turn about for he had too much pride. "We have come for your Catholics," he said. "Give them to us that we may cleanse Maguire's Ford of their foul popery, and we will go in peace."
"Get off of my lands, and take your rabble with you," the duchess of Glenkirk said in an even, cold voice. "Am I Pilate that I would betray innocent people into the hands of your intolerant mob?" She stepped forward so that his horse was forced to move back a pace. "How dare you come here and attempt to cause trouble? The Protestants and the Catholics have lived in peace at Maguire's Ford for years. The Catholics here took in the Protestants ten years ago when they had nowhere else to go. They built a church for them, and all have lived in equanimity ever since. How presumptuous you are, William Devers, to think that you have God's permission to come here and cause murder and chaos on this All Hallows' Eve. You are more the devil's disciple than you are God's, I believe. Go now before I set the wolfhounds on you, and your men!"
"Madame, I will have what I came for," he replied stubbornly. "Search the houses, and bring out the Catholics," he commanded.
Suddenly a flaming arrow arced into the darkening skies above the town, and the bells in both the churches began to peal furiously. The doors of the holy houses at either end of the village opened, and the population of Maguire's Ford streamed forth from their separate ends of the town, surrounding the Lisnaskea men. All were armed with something, from ancient blunderbusses to scythes to frying pans and iron pots.
"Our people will not allow you to turn them against one another," Jasmine told Sir William. "We all worship the same God."
"Hear me!" her opponent cried out from his vantage point upon the back of his mount. "How can you live in the same place as these dirty papists, men of Maguire's Ford? We have cleansed Lisnaskea of their kind, and now with your help we will do the same here! Join us!"
The Reverend Steen spoke for his people. "We will not join you, William Devers. Go home!"
"Have you joined the legions of the damned, Samuel Steen?" Sir William asked him.
The Protestant minister laughed aloud. "Do not presume to judge me or mine, William Devers. You have broken more than one of God's commandments. Thou shalt not kill! Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, or lands! Honor thy father, and thy mother! You are no fit leader. You are a bully, and a bigot. Get you gone from here!"
William Devers suddenly kicked his horse, and the beast leapt forward, startled, knocking both Jasmine and the Reverend Mr. Steen to the road. A cry of outrage arose from the Maguire's Ford people, but then to everyone's surprise a single shot rang out. With an absolutely astounded look in his eye, Sir William tumbled forward from his horse and onto the ground.
"They've shot Sir William," the cry arose among the Lisnaskea men. "We must be avenged!"
"Nay, the Maguire's Ford men did not shoot him. I did," a voice from among the Lisnaskea mob said, and surprised, they parted to allow a young lad forward.
" 'Tis Bruce Morgan, the smith's son," came a faceless cry.
The Reverend Samuel Steen pulled himself to his feet while the duke helped his wife up. "Why, lad?" the Protestant cleric asked the youngster. "Why have you killed Sir William, Bruce Morgan?" Gently he took the ancient pistol from the lad, amazed it had fired at all let alone with such deadly accuracy.
"For Aine," came the devastating reply. "For Aine, and because of what he did to her. I heard it, but I could not believe it, and so I crept into the house while they were all trying to rescue those in the church. I saw what he did to my lass. We were to be wed one day, you see. I loved her."
"Do you think I'd let you marry some damned Catholic wench, a whore's fatherless offspring?" his father, the smithy, Robert Morgan said, pushing forward angrily. "And now look what you've done, you stupid boy! You've killed our leader. You're no son of mine any longer!"
"Sir William was an evil man, Da," Bruce Morgan replied, drawing himself up to his full height now, and they suddenly saw the boy was almost a man. "And do you think I would have let you stop me from marrying Aine? I never cared about her religion, Da. I cared about her!"
"Faugh!" his father snorted. "I'll hang you myself to take the shame of what's been done here off my name."
There was a faintly audible groan at their feet, and Reverend Steen cried out, "Sir William is not dead! He is injured, but alive."
Kieran Devers quietly reached out to touch young Morgan's shoulder while the others were distracted. "Go to the castle, laddie," he said. "I'll not see you hanged. Hurry before they remember you again. Sir William will not be generous in this matter. Go now!" He watched with a faint smile upon his lips as the lad did his bidding.
"Fetch something to use as a stretcher," the duchess of Glenkirk, finally on her feet again, said. "I'll not have this man in my home, but perhaps Reverend Steen you will see the physician is fetched, and you will shelter Sir William until he is fit to travel again." She looked into the mob before her, forcing herself to stand as tall as she might, but the pains wracking her were difficult to ignore. Still, Jasmine reasoned, just a moment more. "Men of Lisnaskea, are there any of you here who saw Bruce Morgan fire the shot that has injured Sir William? If not, for his father's sake keep silent, I beg of you. You will not see the lad again, and by the time Sir William and his family stop to consider who fired the shot, Bruce Morgan will be long gone from Ulster. He is but a boy, and he loved a young girl who was foully abused and then murdered by Sir William. You know in your hearts what he did to Aine Fitzgerald was an evil iniquity, and a sin as well. Do not compound his sin or the lad's with one of your own. Now go back to Lisnaskea. I will not permit you to wreak havoc in Maguire's Ford." She stood glaring at them until the men had the good grace to turn slowly about, and start making their way home, their torches lighting the darkened road before them as they went. Jasmine Leslie gasped loudly, and fell to her knees. "Yer bairn will be early, Jemmie," she said through gritted teeth.
"Mama!" Fortune ran to her mother's side.
James Leslie didn't bother to wait for help. Pushing his stepdaughter aside, he lifted his wife up in his arms and carried her through the village, across the drawbridge, and into the castle.
Seeing him enter the hall old Biddy called out, "Have you a birthing table, my lord?"
Rohana came running. "I will take care of my lady," she said. "I have been doing it since she was born."
"Let Biddy care for the bairn after it is born," Jasmine said so the old woman would not be offended by Rohana. "And she can help you now too, for she has had the experience." Then she groaned. "This child will wait for no one now it has decided to be born! It will not be like you, my Fortune, taking forever, and then having to be turned about so you could come properly. Ahhh! I can feel the child's head! It is coming now!"
James Leslie knew just what to do. He deposited his wife on the high board, and braced her shoulders so the other women might aid her. There was absolutely no time for niceties. Jasmine groaned with her labor. She had never had so quick a birthing, but she could quite distinctly feel the child's head pushing down. "Rohana?"
Her serving woman pushed Jasmine's skirts up, and peered between her mistress's legs. "You're correct, my lady, the head is coming. Push with the next pain. Ohh! 'Tis almost here. Gracious, I have never seen a baby born this quickly, my princess. Ohh!" Rohana caught the infant as it slid easily from its mother's body. The child began to howl almost immediately, waving its small arms protestingly at having been pushed so rudely from its dark and warm safe haven.
"What is it?" Jasmine demanded.
" 'Tis a lass!" James Leslie crowed, delighted
. " 'Tis a fine, hot-tempered wee lassie!"
"Well, Jemmie, you wanted another daughter to spoil, and damn me if you haven't gone and gotten your way," his wife said with a chuckle.
Fortune had stood staring at her mother's very brief travail, and had actually seen her new half-sister born. She was fascinated, and asked her mother, "Do they all come so quickly, Mama?"
Jasmine laughed weakly. "Nay, poppet, they do not all come so swiftly. 'Twas my fall earlier, I believe, that brought my early labor on, although from the sound of her this child is strong."
"A fine lass," Biddy said, handing the cleaned and swaddled baby into her mother's arms. "A Samhein lassie!"
"What are we to call her?" James Leslie asked his wife.
Jasmine considered a long moment, and then she said, "Autumn, because she was born to me in the autumn of my life, in the autumn of the year." Then she saw the bowl of late roses on the sideboard. "Autumn Rose Leslie," Jasmine decided. "Our daughter's name will be Autumn Rose."
PART III
ENGLAND AND MARY’S LAND
1632-1635
“Love God, and do what you please.”
– St. Augustine
Chapter 13
Sir William Devers survived his wound, but he would never walk again. As soon as it was feasible he was moved from the Reverend Samuel Steen's house in Maguire's Ford back to Lisnaskea. He was only in his mid-twenties, and as he lay in his bed, or sat in the chair that had been fashioned for him, he grew angrier and angrier. He wanted to hold the Catholics responsible for his infirmity, but they had not shot at him. He had been shot from behind, and the Catholics of Maguire's Ford had been facing him. Still, Sir William Devers reasoned, if they had not been at Maguire's Ford then neither would he have been there, and he would not be the invalid he was now. Who had shot him he did not know, nor did anyone else seem to know.
Besieged Page 24