The Faithful Heart (27 page)

 

 

“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.