Infinite Devotion (43 page)

“Oh, you got me there, then. Alright, then, let me get it from my saddlebag.” But I pull out my pistol quickly and say, “I won’t hand it over without a good fight.”

We fire at the same time, but since we’re some distance away, both of us miss our mark. With no time to reload, we draw swords and charge each other. The sound of steel goes clashing like the titans through the woods. After some time of skilled fighting and no bloodshed, the man pants, “Okay, then, let’s draw a truce!”

He backs his horse away and draws off his mask, revealing a sweaty, round face, and even in the darkness, can tell his eyes are a slate blue.

Intrigued now with this skilled fighter, I ask, “How about joining me for a nice gill of poteen?”

He watches me dismount, and I head over behind some rocks to pull out two gills of poteen. He smiles widely. “I have been known to be fond of a drop.”

Chapter 16

The man sits behind a tree beside me with a great grunt and asks, “I must know the name of such a staunch adversary.”

“’Tis Redmond O’Hanlon, my good sir.”

“Redmond O’Hanlon!” He puts his face to the night sky, smiling. “The main purpose of my travel to Armagh was to meet the famed O’Hanlon, and here I tried to rob him.” He laughs for a bit and takes a swig of poteen. “It feels like a torchlight procession going down my throat.”

“Well, here I am, your dreams come true. So you must tell me yours now.”

“Richard Power,” he says, rolling up his sleeves, revealing a long scar on his forearm.

“Oh, that’s not a name.” I look him up and down. “No, you seem more like a Captain Power to me.”

“Captain Power,” he repeats. “Sure, I like that.”

“Well, seeing I’ve never reached a truce before with sword, I’ll have to ask you to join my crew.”

He thinks for a little and takes a long drink. “As long as I’m in Armagh, I’ll join you, but I was headed here to make a gentlemen’s oath.”

“Out with it, then.” I take a drink.

“If I was to be captured or imprisoned, that you would do everything in your clever power to free me, and I would return the same oath to you.”

“Sure thing to have more behind me, and no doubt I’ll stand black for you.”

We sit in the woods together that night, drinking and telling stories. I know Muirin will have my skin, but Captain was far too interesting to cut short.

Captain asks, “So where do you recline?”

“Oh, we sleep in the woods or in a nice warm cave.”

“A cave?” His voice goes up. “Oh, no, it won’t do. Follow me; we’ll find a nice farmer to take us in.”

We get on our horses and ride out through the commons. He picks a nice little cottage that still has smoke from their chimney. “Smoke means someone’s still awake.”

I stand behind Captain as he knocks on the small wooden door. A young man pulls the door open a crack and asks, “Who comes calling at this dark hour?”

“Only two weary travelers far from an inn.”

He stares Captain and me up and down with the one eye in the crack of the door and opens it for us. “Céad míle fáilte. A weary stranger is always welcomed into our house.”

We walk in and remove our muddy boots as a young, pretty woman comes and takes our coats to hang. The man says, “Come and rest yourself at our fire. Can we offer you a drink of milk?”

“No, sir, the fire will be more than fine,” I reply.

But Captain says jovially, “Sure, some milk will be grand.”

The woman goes and pours out the last of the jug into Captain’s wooden bowl, filling it only halfway.

The man says, “It’s all we have left, I’m afraid.”

Captain bellows, “More than enough, my good man, more than enough.”

The woman’s eyes dart up to the loft and the man whispers, “We have three babes asleep in the loft, so we must keep our voices low.” The woman sits on the floor beside him and leaves the chairs for us.

“You have a right cozy house here,” Captain flatters, but it makes the young woman gush in tears.

“What did I say?” Captain opens his eyes wide.

“We’re facing eviction first thing tomorrow.”

“Can’t you borrow from a good neighbor to help?” I ask.

“That’s the thing, we’re owing fifty pounds to pay off the mortgage, and he’s threatened to evict anyone who helps us,” she says.

The man quickly follows, “You see, our black-hearted landlord wants this property cleared so he can plant it for himself. ’Tis the only way the rack renter can get us off.”

Captain speaks, “I might be able to assist you here. If I were to loan you the money, would you promise to pay it back?”

The man looks surprised. “If I had to work day and night and die trying, I would.”

“I thank you greatly for offering the loan, good sir, but the landlord says we can’t have borrowed a shilling,” his wife says.

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty head about that. I’ll think of a good plan by morning,” Captain says.

The young woman drops all the worry from her face and runs around happily, making two beds for us on the floor by the fire.

In the morning, with all the wee children tottering around, it makes me have a pang of sadness that Muirin and I hadn’t had any of our own yet. Captain makes up a promissory note for the farmer to sign, takes fifty pounds from his purse on his belt, and puts it in the farmer’s hand.

“Now here’s the plan, listen well. ’Tis important to wait for the landlord to have the sheriff and all the bank’s people in his presence when you give over this payment, or else he might take it and say you never paid. Make sure you get a
written
copy of payment for your proof, and when he asks if you borrowed it, you say a relative of yours gave you this money to hold for him, and seeing that you’re in such need, have had to use it.”

The farmer takes a deep breath for strength, and Captain and I get on our horses to leave. The young lady tears while holding her smallest baby. “You have no idea how much this kindness means to us and you can only have been sent from the good Lord.”

Captain leads the way up on a hill overlooking the farm by the road down to cottage.

“Why are we stopping?” I ask.

“So we can see the landlord coming and watch how he fares.”

Within twenty minutes, the pompous gent rides his sleek horse down to the cottage, and he tries to bully them of the property, but the farmer seems to stall him well. The bank’s people come along, led by the sheriff, and we see the farmer hand over the money like Captain instructed. We hear the landlord curse all the way up to where we are, and it brings a smile to Captain’s face. The bank’s people and the sheriff depart, seeing that the mortgage is paid, and the landlord stays cursing and swatting his hat at the farmer. The farmer closes his door, and the landlord gets on his horse and speeds out in fury.

“Watch and learn, boy!” Captain rides to the curve of the road up ahead. The landlord stops his horse, and a masked gunman points his pistol at his head. Captain says, “Stand and deliver!”

The landlord says, “I have nothing on me.”

Captain laughs. “I just saw the sheriff and the bank meet you out there at that farmer’s house. Empty you pockets now, or I’ll shoot and empty them for you!”

The man hesitantly hands over the fifty pounds, and Captain says, “Any other valuables?”

The man says, “No, nothing else.”

Captain packs his sack and says quickly, “Oh, do you happen to have the time?”

The man instinctively reaches for his watch but freezes halfway, realizing the trap.

“Hand it over now! The fob too!”

He reaches in a secret pocket and begrudgingly pulls his gold articles out. Captain snatches them up and warns, “If you don’t change your ways and treat your tenants, better I’ll follow you and take everything you ever get your hands on. Now ride off and don’t look back.”

The landlord kicks his horse and runs. Captain trots back to me with an impish grin and says, “Enjoy the show, now?”

“Quite a plan.” I smile. This is going to be interesting.

I take Captain back to my men by the main cave, and some have already heard of his accomplishments elsewhere. I tell them all the story of the farmer, and Captain stands up. “Come, Redmond, I almost forgot the ending to the story!”

We ride back to the farmer’s cottage, and the couple runs out with the children in tow and welcomes us like royalty.

“Won’t you please come in and have some bread I’ve baked?” the woman asks.

Captain replies, “Thank you, dear, but I have but a moment and came to look in on you.”

The farmer speaks, “Your bless’d plan worked and we kept the farm!”

“And to make the story even sweeter, as soon as the landlord left, a masked highwayman robbed him!” His wife nearly shakes with happiness.

“Well, along those lines—” He pauses and takes out their promissory note, and with a dramatic flair rips the note in little pieces and throws them up in the air to fall around the couple like thick snow. They smile with the joy of children on Christmas, and Captain tips his hat and says with a tight smile, “Captain Power took care of you.”

We ride off to the tavern to celebrate.

Chapter 17

We walk in to see the whole gang already partaking in spirits. The leaders, with most of their recruits, fill the large room. Even Art has showed. They all cheer, seeing us come in, and Captain seems to gain admiration very quickly wherever he goes. He puts his hands up to quiet everyone, and he picks up a glass on the bar, saying, “I’m sure dry for thirsty!” and yells out to Sean, “Give everyone a round and steaks for every fellow!”

They all cheer even louder, and he toasts with his glass in the air, “’Tis better to spend money like there’s no tomorrow, than to spend tonight like there’s no money!”

The walls are shaking with the volume of their thanks. The mood in the tavern’s joyous, and we all drink up and finish our sups. I stand up, wait until the room quiets down somewhat, and say, “Thank you to Captain for his generosity!”

“Oh, I never said I was paying!” he pretends, and everyone laughs.

“Well, then, I don’t thank Captain, I thank myself!”

“Toast!” Liddy yells.

I clear my throat, giving me time to come up with a proper one. “‘God made the Italians for their beauty. The French for fine food. The Swedes for intelligence. The Jews for religion. And on and on until he looked at what he had created and said, ‘This is all very fine, but no one is having fun. I guess I’ll have to make me an Irishman!’”

They erupt with laughter, and I sit. Cahir stands up, swaying slightly with drink. “Well, then, I’ll give a toast too!” He holds up his glass and slurs, “‘I have known many, and liked not a few”’—he turns to look at Síofra across the room—‘“but loved only one, and this toast is to you.”’ Everyone’s quiet in the awkward moment as he raises his glass to her.

Kelly yells out, “Just kiss her and get it done with, Dempsey!” and the room rocks again with laughter.

Cahir smiles, taking the jest in stride, and points to the fiddler. “Play my song, and I’ll bless everyone with a little song and dance!”

The happy music starts, and he yells to the center of the room, “Clear the floor, make room!”

The men push the tables to the side and get up on them, clapping. ’Tis an old favorite of the rebels, “Follow me up to Carlow.” He stands in the middle, still as an oak until he springs to life at the first word:

“Lift MacCahir Og your face
Brooding o’er the old disgrace
That black FitzWilliam stormed your place,
Drove you to the Fern
Grey said victory was sure
Soon the firebrand he’d secure;
Until he met at Glenmalure
With Feach MacHugh O’Byrne.”

At the chorus, the whole room joins in. Cahir stops singing, runs over to grab Síofra, and the two of them spin around the floor together.

“Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Feach will do what Feach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we’ll go for by the Lord
Feach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.”

Cahir handles his feet well, and Síofra seems to be floating on air. She’s beaming as they dance, and I wonder why I never noticed before that they were so obviously sweet on each other. The chorus stops, and he lets go of Síofra to sing as she continues to jig around him, kicking high and springing up unnatural-like.