The Faithful Heart (10 page)

 

 

“I will see to it. But where are you going?”Mary called.

 

 

“To see Fergus!” she called over her shoulder.

 

 

Ruairc tried to block her wayas she barreled down the corridor, but
she feinted right, then swept past his left, her anger increasing.

 

 

“I have never been so disgusted in my life. The people are starving,
the animals dying, when for the price of even one of those gowns we
could have fed them for years!”

 

 

"I don’t disagree with you, my love, but in your current temper, it
might be best not to—"

 

 

But she was had already slammed Fergus’ door open with a powerful
kick. A flurried squeal of half-starved and near-naked maids told
her all she needed to know.

 

 

She yanked him by the scruff of his neck off the hapless scrawny
girl he had been holding down by her stick-like wrists. She reached
up with her other hand to grab his steward’s gold chain, which she
twisted until it snapped.

 

 

“I want to see all the papers and accounts, now!” Morgana demanded.

 

 

“Morgana, er, I had heard you might be coming home—"

 

 

Ruairc flung him a doublet to cover his appallingly ugly nakedness.

 

 

"Go to the kitchens to get your food for payment as usual," he
commanded to the three hollow eyed girls. "Fergus won't be needing
you any more tonight."

 

 

The looked overjoyed, and began to grab their ragged gowns and hurry
out of the room.

 

 

"And he won't be needing you any other night either," Morgana added
to their retreating backs. "I'm in charge now. No one here will ever
have to prostitute themselves for food again."

 

 

The thin girl she had rescued paused at that, turned back, and spat
in Fergus's face. She looked at Morgana. "Thank you, my lady." She
hurried out of the room without another word.

 

 

Morgana shook Fergus by the shoulder like a terrier with a rat. "The
accounts, now, you vile whoremonger."

 

 

"There's nothing to see. There's been nothing coming in!” the oily
little man protested, sweeping back his meagre tufts of already grey
hair. Though he was not much older than Morgana, he was already
nearly bald.

 

 

“In that case, I want to see all the accounts for the expenditures
on the estate. If I find out you have been spending money on things
like this,” Morgana hissed, dangling the crucifix in front of his
nose, “I shall see to it that you clean the privies with your
tongue.”’

 

 

Fergus took one look at the red cross with black stones, and fainted
on the spot.

 

 

Morgana pushed the limp body back onto the bed, and looked over at
Ruairc.

 

 

“I never hit him,” Morgana muttered.

 

 

"I know. He's obviously guilty as sin and couldn't face being found
out. Still, fainting like that—"

 

 

He checked with one hand to make sure he was still breathing while
Morgana called down the hall for some help from the servants.

 

 

"Get him dressed and out of here. This used to be our best guest
room. It can be so again. Leave the furniture, strip everything else
til its bare, she ordered, looking around the luxuriously appointed
chamber grimly.

 

 

She steppped over to the wardrobe and coffers in turn.Once again,
she found a king’s ransom of clothes and jewels, not to mention
silver and gold plate, some of it with a foreign coat of arms on it
which Morgana had never seen.

 

 

“Spanish, I’d say, or Portuguese,” Ruairc guessed, as he peered over
her shoulder at the fine gold tracings.

 

 

Morgana blew a stray auburn curl out of her eye in exasperation.
“But what is it all doing here? By all accounts our ships have been
lost, with no trade has been coming in. He said so himself, yet he
has an entire room of bounty to incriminate him.”

 

 

“You were the captain of the fleet, Morgana.Once you and Conor were
gone, things were bound to have fallen apart. They saw their chance
and took it. Started to trade on their own behalf, and kept the
proceeds themselves, instead of share and share alike for the whole
clan as you had always done.”

 

 

“This stinks to high heaven. Something far greater is going on here.
You and I know that these are not objects we would ever trade for.
That's a foreign crest. Most people would melt down a rich plate
like that if it was not a prized heirloom. Look at all we found in
Aofa's room, and now here. You would need boatloads of wine or
timber or furs to exchange for even one of these robes, let alone
two entire wardrobes full of finery.”

 

 

“I agree, but we have no proof,” Ruairc stated bluntly.“The ships
might have been trading these items, but then concealing them,
giving them directly to Aofa and Fergus.”

 

 

“I can’t think that my captains would be so disloyal to the clan,
and in any case that makes no sense.You know yourself, any profit
made was always equally divided, with every member of the crew
getting an equal share. I can’t think that any of them would be so
foolish as to hand over such riches to Aofa and Fergus, who share
none of the risks on the ventures,” Morgana said. "If they were
betraying us, they would keep such riches for themselves. And if
they were all so prosperous, the castle precincts wouldn't look like
an abandoned village."

 

 

“Then where has it all come from? These items are fit for a king or
queen,” Ruairc observed, running his hands over a rich crimson
velvet. "These things are even finer than the ones Silken Thomas
wears, and he's a popinjay of the first magnitude."

 

 

"I can only guess from the style of the plate and jewels that it's
Spanish. The fashion of the gowns also leads me to think Spain
rather than Portugal."

 

 

"But what on earth could we possibly ever have to give them in
exchange for such vast riches?" Ruairc wondered allowed as he stared
at an emerald encrusted green silk doublet.

 

 

Morgana looked at it as well for a moment, thinking how like his
eyes the jewels were. Then she turned her attention back to the
question her comrade at directed at her.

 

 

“It's a puzzle, to be sure. We have always avoided the Spanish
treasure ships, for the sake of good trade relations. Just think how
many of our ships were built at Corunna.”

 

 

“The ten best ones, though all the rest are locally made,” Ruairc
said, nodding. "But these things can't have come from a treasure
ship. They're made up gowns and plate, cut jewels, not ingots and
raw gemstones."

 

 

"True. And these fabrics would have come from the Netherlands at
some point, and then been styled and jewelled according to Spanish
court fashion.

 

 

“Mayhap the English raided these goods from the Spanish, and then we
raided the English?”’

 

 

“It is possible, but then why be so fool-hardy as to keep these
things? You know the English would like nothing better than to catch
us for piracy. Keeping stolen goods such as these items under our
own roof would be suicidal. If they were booty, they should have
been traded away elsewhere!”

 

 

Ruairc nodded silently, and then moved to help without hesitation as
Morgana insisted, “We have to get these things out of here, and
whatever other contraband is concealed in the house. We must do it
under cover of darkness, and I want Aofa and Fergus put in the
dungeons.”

 

 

“Morgana, that's a bit harsh toward your sister, is it not? And
Fergus is a McGee as well as a Maguire. He is not without friends,”
Ruairc pointed out astutely.

 

 

“Ruairc, it is the only way,” Morgana insisted, hauling the clothes
out of the wardrobe by the armful.“We cannot afford to let them find
out where all these things are going. Find me as many oxen carts as
you can, and get all this ready to go to the ships.”

 

 

Ruairc selected one of the servant to take a message about the ox
carts, before returning to the awesome task of gathering up all the
wealth in the room.

 

 

“Most of the ships are at Belleek, Morgana,” Ruairc reminded her.

 

 

“Then we will send the treasure there!”’ Morgana shrugged.

 

 

“There will be danger from robbers,”’ Ruairc warned.

 

 

“I know, but what choice do we have? We need food, sensible items
like candles, tar, ropes, a bull, I don’t know what else!I haven’t
seen the ships yet, but they tell me the fleet is in desperate
shape. We may need to make repairs on dozens of ships,” Morgana
said, her worry evident in her tone.

 

 

Ruairc stopped gathering up silver trinkets for a moment, and went
over to rest his hand on her shoulder.

 

 

“No, you won’t, my love. Remember what I said about your ships from
Corunna?”

 

 

“Aye, but..”

 

 

“You only have nine of them left.”

 

 

“Well, losing one is a blow, but....”

 

 

“No, Morgana, that’s all you have.Don’t you see, all the others are
gone,” Ruairc revealed quietly.

 

 

“I don’t believe it!Thirty ships don’t just disappear!”

 

 

Ruairc stroked her cheek soothingly. “I’m sorry, Morgana, I told you
it was bad.”

 

 

Morgana pulled away from Ruairc’s soothing caresses, and went to
gaze out the window. Below she saw the first of the carts being
loaded, all the men and women working tirelessly without complaint.

 

 

She turned to gaze at Ruairc’s emerald green eyes, and answered his
unspoken question with a lift of her chin.

 

 

“Well, nine ships are better than none, and as you say, they are the
best in the fleet,” she declared firmly.

 

 

Ruairc smiled then, relieved that Morgana was not to be so easily
defeated even by a huge setback like the loss of her fleet. “Patrick
is apparently on the last ship, and we still have no word of Finn,
but with any luck, that will bring the fleet up to eleven.”

 

 

“Which one does Patrick have?”

 

 

“
The Faithful Heart
’” Ruairc said softly, recalling the day
when she had christened it, giving it the name he had always called
her. “Don’t worry, she’ll be back. She’s weathered every storm so
far.”

 

 

Morgana blushed at the double meaning, and the painful recollections
of how much she and the powerful man by her side had shared, good
and bad, throughout the past ten years since they had first met.

 

 

“I shouldn’t take up your time doing this, really.” Morgana moved
away from his solid, reassuring presence. “You must be tired after
your long journey. Since everything is under control here now at
Lisleavan, you might wish to go back to Dublin.”

 

 

“I have no pressing business there, and I have no intention of
leaving you or your father until matters are more stable here,”
Ruairc said firmly.

 

 

“In that case, please supervise the cleaning of the castle tomorrow,
and ensure that any other contraband goods are got rid of. And stay
close to Father. I know he says he feels better after your aunt’s
medicine, but the danger is that he will overdo things and have a
relapse.”

 

 

“Whatever you wish, Morgana, but where will you be?” Ruairc replied
with a formal little bow, and a piercing look at the inscrutable
woman by his side.

 

 

“Oh, around the estate,” she said with a shrug, hoping he couldn’t
read her expression.

 

 

Ruairc nodded, though he looked as if he didn’t believe a word she
had said.

 

 

He withdrew without any further protest or questions, which
surprised but also relieved her. Even in this large room with
servants coming and going, he had seemed too near, too intimate.

 

 

As soon as he had gone, she took a last look in each of the coffers,
stunned at the wealth in each. Yet why spend so much on material
things, when ready cash was much more valuable. Unless of course
they had got all this on credit somehow, in which case, the estate
would be in a vast amount of debt…

 

 

And if they were this wealthy, why would they not have gone to
Dublin or even London and shown off their fashion in society, made a
name for themselves. Why stay in the Donegal hinterland and horde
all they had like a dragon's treasure trove?

 

 

Once she had finished with Fergus's chamber, Morgana went into the
remain rooms on that floor to sweep the few remaining valuables Aofa
hadn’t taken for herself into baskets. They were taken downstairs
and added to the growing pile of treasure on the carts.

 

 

At last, around midnight, Morgana reached the apartments of her dead
step-mother. Though she doubted there would be anything of value
there, since she herself had stripped the rooms bare five years
before, she thought it best to go in for a quick look around.

 

 

Morgana tried every key on the household bunch, but not one of them
would open the lock. She then tried several keys from the bunch
which she had taken from Fergus, and at last was able to open the
door with a hearty shove.

 

 

Morgana was so astonished at what she saw, she dropped her candle
and slammed the door again.

 

 

Quaking in an agony of indecision, she grabbed a torch from one of
the wall brackets.