Infinite Devotion (40 page)

“I guess this is our turnout.” I look around. “I just got news that the mercenaries are gone.”

Liddy gives a sharp-pitched whistle in celebration.

“But,” I pause. “There’s word St. John’s wagging his new-citizen tongue all around Armagh that he and his son are going on the hunt for me and my followers.”

“Let him come, then,” Kelly retorts with his dazzling smile.

“Well, Sean had a pretty good idea. He thinks we should go after him first.”

Everyone’s waiting for me to continue.

“I’ve been thinking, it’s never good to go shooting a well-to-do Englishman, unless you want the whole army of Ulster at your door. Then it came to me; we go ransom the boy. He can’t be but nineteen or so now. How hard would it be for us eight to go nab him?”

Cahir says, “Strong John alone could go and pick him up over his head and carry him home.”

“So we go watch the house. If he comes out to go anywhere, we get him. We bring him back here and send a message to St. John that he better leave us alone.”

“It’s worth a try, and there’s no jug here anyway,” Strong John says.

We ride to the base of Tandragee castle and wait for a rider to come down the path. We must’ve waited over an hour.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Ned says.

Suddenly we hear the cacophony of hounds being released. Panic sweeps all of our faces when we think they might be headed our way, so we take off deeper into the woods. We watch the hounds pass with three riders dressed up for a hunt behind them.

“Let’s follow them. They’re sure to break up in the fields, and that would be a perfect time to take him,” I say.

We follow St. John and his group to a clearing as the two other riders go to their left with the hounds. “Where are you going, William?” one of the riders calls over the noise.

“I’m after fowl today.” He turns his horse away.

We have to stay deep in the cover of the brush to wait for the perfect time to pounce. We watch, as he doesn’t seem to be hunting for anything. As soon as his father’s out of sight, he puts away his gun and just rides around the perimeter of the field. He then stands daydreaming, staring out on the field. I turn to Cahir, who looks impatient, and shrug. Finally, our chance comes when he decides to go for a jaunt in the woods. We all close in on every side. When he spies us, he screams, “Outlaws!” at the top of his lungs.

His horse is fast and sure-footed and keeps pushing into Ghost as I try to get hold of him or his reins. He fumbles to get his musket out from his saddlebag, but Strong John swats away with his long arm and flings it behind us.

“Outlaws!” he yells again.

Finally, Hogan races up on his dainty horse and does a quick spinning motion right in front of the boy’s horse, forcing it to stop before colliding. He screams one last time before I can shove a rag in his mouth, but in the shuffle, a shot rings out, and we all look up to see two hunters. One’s loading his gun again quickly, while the other keeps his muzzle directed at me.

“Release my son or I’ll shoot, and be sure, I won’t miss.” St. John’s dull, empty eyes are set on me above his musket. I see his face for the first time in my life, and ’tis all pinched together in the center with fish-like thick lips.

“If you fire a shot off, I’ll still have time to send this bullet into his head.” I show St. John the pistol held against William’s temple.

“Let go of my son, and I will bring you set in, unharmed.”

“What, so we can hang in good health?” I shout.

“Hang the harpers wherever found.” He sneers.

The insulting dig enrages Strong John, and in one quick action, he unloads his musket and hits St. John’s companion in the chest.

Síofra shrieks, “No, John!”

John draws his sword and yells, “Pog me thoin!” and runs at St. John, who shoots him in the center of his forehead. St. John immediately turns his horse to flee. Everyone but me takes their weapons out and releases a volley after him. One bullet hits St. John in the arm, but he keeps riding.

Síofra rushes to John, but we all know what a shot to the forehead does. His massive form’s spread out in the leaves; his sword lays by his side. Fallen Goliath under a river of Síofra’s tears.

She touches a scar over his eye and says through her pain, “He got this saving me.” She sucks in her sniffles to continue, “I was just a girl when I tried to take my first horse. I snuck into a planter’s stables and was almost home free when I heard a hammer click. Before I could turn around, something hit me as I heard a shot go out. Whatever hit me took the blunderbuss from the man and hit him hard over the head with it. I heard John’s voice,
still hear it
, ‘Síofra, are you hurt?’ So full of worry. He put me on the horse and rode us away back to the woods. ’Twas not until we stopped and he turned that I saw he was holding his head. The blood was pouring down his left side. Never once complained or held it against me.” She broke into tears again. “He loved me that much.”

I hear some of the men tearing up too and decide not to embarrass them by looking at them.

“God be with him,” I say, and they all echo the sacred prayer.

I bind William’s hands behind his back and tie his waist to his saddle. After securing him, all seven of us lift John up over his saddle. Síofra insists she lead his horse home. We follow behind her, in somber procession, as the light leaves the sky.

Chapter 14

Although we wanted to mourn Strong John’s loss, we’re left with a hostage to deal with. Cahir takes Síofra and John’s body home. The rest of the men come along with me. We blindfold William and take him back to the main cave. I tell the hostage to sit, and he tries awkwardly to get to the ground with his hands tied behind his back. He sits there, against the wall of the cave, slumped over, blind and gagged‌—‌truly a pathetic sight.

I turn to Ned. “Go find someone you trust to send a message to St. John. We want £100 for safe delivery of his son, or we shoot him by the end of the week.”

The prisoner overhears me, and as soon as I remove his gag, he says, “He’ll never pay that, you know.”

“Quiet now or I’ll be forced to plug you back up.”

I walk out the cave to clear my head, but I feel guilty to leave the boy in such a painful position, no matter how angry I am at how the day turned out. I go in, untie his hands, and retie them in front of him loosely so the ropes don’t chafe, and I remove his blindfold.

“Now don’t be getting any grand ideas of escape. I have a man at this cave entrance at all times. If he sees so much as the tip of your shoe, he’ll shoot.”

I purposely avoid looking into his eyes, since I know what might befall him. I try to imagine him like some animal slated for slaughter. I walk back out and tell Kelly to take the first shift as guard. I want Bawn to sit with the prisoner and make sure he doesn’t go into the other weapon rooms. I rest with my men at the fire, and we cook supper in silence in respect for Strong John.

Seeing there’s some stew left, I bring a plate of it in to the hostage with a bowl of water. He takes the fork hungrily, tries to scoop up some on the plate, and brings it up to his mouth, but since his hands are tied, it ends up falling off the fork and spilling down his chest.

“I can’t watch this. You’re like a baby.” I take the fork from his hands, scoop up a full fork, and go to stuff it into his mouth. He doesn’t open at first. So I say, “Fine by me if you starve.”

Then I put the fork and plate down to see him open his mouth wide like a wee bird. I shovel the food in quickly so I won’t have to do the silly thing much longer. I bring a bowl up after for him to get a drink, but it ends up spilling out the side of his mouth and down his shirt.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“No thanks needed. I have to make sure you don’t die before I hand you over.”

“I tell you, he won’t be paying your ransom.”

“Well, we’ll wait and see, won’t we?” I turn to Bawn. “Can you take the night shift as well?”

“Sure thing, but what’ll I do when he has to make water or the other?” Bawn’s eyes flip up immaturely.

“You’ll have to bring him outside, then.”

“But I’ll have to untie him so he can, you know, use his hands.”

“Right, I see, so untie him and keep a gun at his head.”

“I’ll have to stand right there and watch him?”

“Jesus, Bawn! No, you can let him go shite all over the countryside, and we’ll see if he comes back! Of course, you’ll have to watch him! I don’t know, sing a song or something to keep your mind away from it.”

Bawn wrinkles his nose.

“Did ya see what I just had to do, feed him like a baby magpie? You think that was fun? Now do as I say and be happy about it. We’ll all have a turn at it so it won’t only be you.”

He seems to feel better thinking everyone will have to do it and goes back to his spot across from the prisoner.

I walk back out and wish I could go home to Muirin. I decide taking hostages is a bad business. Last time we’ll ever do this.

In the morning, Cahir and Síofra return. Síofra looks like she’d been crying all night and not slept a wink. She takes one look at Kelly leaning beside the entrance and charges into the cave. Cahir and I follow after her. The prisoner’s sitting up against the wall with his head up to the ceiling and his eyes closed. When he sees Síofra coming, her wild Medusa hair hissing, he instinctively rolls into a fetal position.

She kicks him and screams, “He’d still be here if ’twas not for you!”

I pull her off him before she can do any damage, and she wriggles like a cat being caught. “Let me off, O’Hanlon, this is my fight!”

I try to whisper in her ear, “’Tis not the one you should seek vengeance on.”

She laughs, sounding a bit cracked. “I’ll seek vengeance on them both!”

Cahir looks her in the eyes. “Vixen, we’ll punish St. John best by holding his son and making him pay.”

She stops wriggling for a moment. “Can you promise me, then, that if St. John fails to pay, I get the pleasure of shooting this cat of a kind?”

I think about it for a moment. “That sounds fair.”

The prisoner looks up. “You’ll get your way; he’ll never pay.”

She screams and flies into another fit. “Don’t you talk to me, Sasanach! You’re not one of us! I’ll send you back to Hell where you and your kind belong!”

She squirms out of my grip, pulls a hair off his head, and marches out of the cave.

Cahir whistles. “I wouldn’t want to be him right now. That whipster’s going to do all sorts of magic.”

“You mean the fairies?” I ask, unsure what he’s talking about. The prisoner looks concerned.

“Sure, that, and she’s a bit of a witch. When we were little, shorter than a goat we were, she gave me this.” He pulls out a little wooden charm that’s roughly carved into a horse-like shape. “She gave this to me saying ’twould let me talk to the horses.” He laughs. “I thought she was cracked, but ’twas true. As soon I went to the horses, ’twas like they understood me. Even the feistiest stallion bucking for everyone else cooled and let me ride it. I swear that girl’s powerful.”

Síofra’s gone for a day, I imagined off conjuring or dancing with fairies. The next night, Hogan comes to me in the middle of his night watch. “The prisoner’s shaking something fierce.”

I go in to see him on the ground with his legs tucked up and arms brought close to his chest. His forehead’s wet with sweat, and his teeth are chattering uncontrollably. I put my hand to his head and feel he’s burning up.

“Hogan, go get my blankets outside and some cold water.”

I feel a twang of guilt that I hadn’t given him blankets to sleep under. I peer into his light green eyes for the first time and see the faraway look of someone close to death. Hogan comes back in with a pile of blankets he collected, and I put them under and over him. I keep wetting a cloth, holding it to his head and neck the way Ma would do, making sure he keeps taking sips of water. All night I do this, and by morning, he sleeps soundly with only a slight fever. Feeling I did all that I could, I go out to see Síofra at the fire.

“He’ll soon be a load for four,” she says with her eyes on the fire.

Cahir asks, “Síofra, have you had him blinked?”

She looks up, smiling.

“You’re taking this out on the wrong person. St. John’s the one you want,” I say.

“Oh, I have plans for him too.”

“The whole point of this plan was to teach St. John a lesson. The boy is just our means of doing so. Leave him alone, and go after the one who deserves it.”

She stands up, throws her drink in the fire, and takes a whole bunch of sticks we kept for the fire and throws them on the ground. She studies the way in which they fell and then jumps on her horse. “Fine, then, who’s coming with me?”

Everyone stands still, unsure.

“Cahir, get your arse on your horse, or I’ll rip that charm off your neck!”

Cahir takes one look at me and leaps on his horse.

“What are you doing, Síofra? We have to wait to see if St. John gives in. We need to get the upper hand with him. Make him pay.”

“Oh, I’ll make him pay.” She glares at the whole group. “You saw what I did to the boy, and anyone who doesn’t have my back will be shaking along with William there.”