The Faithful Heart (37 page)

 

 

Checking her coif one last time in the mirror to make sure no hair
peeped out, she began to descend the spiral stairs. Amid the bustle
of servants, she called for her horse to be saddled.

 

 

She was taking a last look around the great hall by way of farewell,
her violet eyes full of tears, when a young woman in torn black rags
came running in, and threw herself down at Morgana’s feet.

 

 

For a moment Morgana barely recognised her. “God Lord, it’s Sister
Joan, isn’t it?” Morgana gasped, her eyes widening as she took in
the woman’s shorn head, and her bruised face.

 

 

“They’ve attacked the convent, killed everyone!” the nun panted, as
Morgana pressed a goblet of wine into her trembling hands.

 

 

“Who has done this?Who has attacked Kilgarven?”

 

 

“I was knocked on the head and left for dead, but I could hear
people say it's the MacMahons, and that Ruairc, the second son, is
now leading them. The Mother Superior was killed, his own aunt, they
all say!”

 

 

Morgana sat down on the settle numbly as Sister Joan recounted the
horrors she had seen both before and after the convent was attacked.

 

 

“I looked around to see if there were any survivors, but I was the
only one. They killed indiscriminately, young and old alike, though
a few of the young novices took longer to die,” Sister Joan
reavealed in a horrified whisper.

 

 

“What makes you say it was Ruairc MacMahon?”

 

 

“I heard the name mentioned by some of the men. They said it was his
fault, he was to blame, something about the convent being in the way
of their plans,” Sister Joan recalled dazedly. “I don’t really know
any more than that. I’m sorry, my English has never been very good.”

 

 

“Did you see the man, the leader?” Morgana demanded.

 

 

“He was huge, with dark hair.”

 

 

There was no comfort in that description, but Morgana asked one more
question.

 

 

“Did they take anything, treasure, silver?”

 

 

“No, it’s all there. They weren’t interested in any of it. They left
it all behind. We will need men to come help us protect the place
from looters. We cannot allow these despoilers to run away with the
sacred vessels of the Church. And I need help too, to bury the
dead,” Sister Joan added quietly.

 

 

“I will see it is done. You rest here,” Morgana urged, before
summoning Finn and Patrick to come hear for themselves what Sister
Joan had to say.

 

 

They came quickly, looking dazed with shock and sleep. They listened
in horror at every word.

 

 

Once the terrified nun had fallen asleep in Morgana’s bed, they held
a council of war in Patrick’s chambers.

 

 

“I don’t not really believe that Ruairc could have done such a
thing. After all, both his brothers are big and dark, though I admit
I haven’t seen either of them for a long time,” Patrick cautioned
Morgana.

 

 

But Morgana’s mind swirled with doubts. What better way of backing
her into a corner to marry him than to love her, then destroy the
convent. He had disappeared days ago without a word, and now this.
It was all just too much for her to take in.

 

 

“It matters not who is responsible!” Morgana shouted, slamming her
fist down on the table. “The point is that we cannot allow it to go
unavenged. We need men to bury the dead, and take away the treasure
to the next religious house before the MacMahons get their hands on
it. After that I want to know what you think we should do.”

 

 

“Are you going to fight then, Morgana?” Finn demanded.

 

 

Morgana halted in her tracks. “Now I didn’t say that. The convent,
after all, is in MacMahon territory. If we tried to avenge this
wrong, we would be to blame for crossing over the border.”

 

 

“You can’t go back to the convent now, though, can you? Where else
can you go? What else can you do?” Patrick remarked.

 

 

“Sister Joan must go somewhere.We can go to one of the other
religious houses, though I won’t say which one in case they try to
find me.”

 

 

“Do you think that was why it was done, to get rid of you?” Finn
gasped.

 

 

“It is possible. After all they didn’t steal anything. Ruairc knew
how much treasure was there. It would seem a plausible excuse for an
attack, except that the men took nothing.”

 

 

“They might also have wanted to travel light. God only knows where
the raiding party is now,” Patrick groaned.

 

 

"Aye, that's the trouble."

 

 

"And how could Ruairc be so unnatural as to kill his own aunt? She
raised him like a mother."

 

 

She shook her head, sickened at heart. "I guess we don't ever know
anyone's heart."

 

 

“Ask yourself, Morgana, why would they go to so much trouble to kill
you, unless you were a genuine threat to them?” Finn remarked
suddenly.

 

 

“I’m not sure why they've moved now, or what they think I can do to
them. All I know is if they do really consider me a threat, I should
get out of the way before more innocents are killed because of me!
They could be on their way here now for me even as we speak!”
Morgana argued hotly.

 

 

“All right, you can go, Morgana, but before you leave, tell me what
to do!” Finn insisted.

 

 

“You know what to do,” Morgana argued impatiently. “Start pulling in
everyone from our outlying villages, and fortify the castles. Lock
up the food stores, lay in as much fresh water as you can if there
is to be a siege. They will try to cut off the main roads, so you
must make sure you have heavy escort if you travel anywhere.”

 

 

Morgana began to gather up her bags and headed towards the front
door to mount her horse.

 

 

She stopped dead in her tracks as Ruairc came striding into the
great hall, his tunic and hose splattered with mud, looking as
though he had slept in them for a month.

 

 

Morgana and Ruairc stared at each other for what seemed an eternity
across a great gulf of misunderstanding and mistrust.

 

 

He stared at her habit in stunned surprise. “So you were going to go
back to the convent after all, in spite of everything we shared?” he
murmured bitterly.

 

 

“Except that there isn’t a convent to go back to anymore, at least
not my old one. You’ve seen to that, haven’t you? Why are you here,
Ruairc? To crow over your triumph? To capture me, force me to marry
you?” Morgana demanded hotly.

 

 

He looked at her as though she were speaking a foreign language.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Morgana, I came here to warn you. They’ve
burnt the villages to the northeast, and are on their way here. I
couldn’t save the convent. I only found out about it after the
attack.”

 

 

“A likely story. Just where have you been for the past five days?”
she demanded furiously.

 

 

“Tracking my brothers’ men while they bring their arsenal down here
and hide it. It’s on its way with more weapons than I’ve ever seen,
Spanish-made by the look of them. We must stop my brothers now,
before they overrun the North and destroy the peace we’ve worked so
hard to build!”

 

 

“Why should I believe you?It could all be a trap,” Morgana scoffed.

 

 

“Morgana, for pity’s sake, after everything we’ve shared together,
can you still doubt me?”

 

 

Patrick finally spoke up, and said, “I’m sorry, Ruairc, but the nun
who came to warn us said you were responsible for the raid on the
convent. You can see why Morgana might be a might apprehensive about
your suggestion that we go off the find a pile of weapons that might
not even exist.”

 

 

Ruairc stared at the auburn-haired woman who had suddenly become a
stranger to him once more.

 

 

“I've been with Anna from the inn all this time, tracking the men
through the glens and mountain passes. Ride over there if you don’t
believe me!”

 

 

“Very convenient, since MacMahons are probably still lurking around
there to raid the precious vessels,” Finn sneered.

 

 

The three cousins looked long and hard at Ruairc, and the Patrick
and Finn turned to Morgana. “It’s your decision, Morgana.”

 

 

“Start getting some of the men together, and close all the gates,”
Morgana commanded flatly, as she returned to her bedroom and yanked
open her trunk.

 

 

In minutes she had dressed in her masculine clothing once more, and
with her sword firmly secured around her waist, she gathered up her
discarded habit into a small bundle, took up her cloak, and marched
down the stairs.

 

 

The final decision now made, there would be no going back. She could
not allow her mixed feelings about Ruairc cloud her judgment in any
way.

 

 

“Patrick, Finn, bring our guest here to the dungeon, while I muster
the men.”

 

 

“Morgana, you can’t possibly think I would ever betray you! Not
after all we mean to each other! Let me come with you. Let me help!”
Ruairc protested.

 

 

"Don't you see, I can't trust a word you say any more when you—"

 

 

"Then ask Mary. She brought Anna to your room that night. You were
still asleep."

 

 

Her two cousins stared at her.

 

 

"I went out in the hall, heard her tale, and told Mary to tell you
as soon as you woke that I had gone with her to stop the weapons
from reaching my brothers."

 

 

Ruairc would have said more, but Finn grabbed him and smashed him
mightily with his fist when he refused to go quietly.

 

 

Morgana winced, her emotions in complete turmoil. “Mary never said a
word."

 

 

He stared at her in fury and disbelief. "For God's sake, love, who
are you going to trust, her or me? I love you!"

 

 

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ruairc but I can’t afford to trust
anyone. This is war, and it's going to be on my terms from now on.”

 

 

"Damn it, Morgana, you have to believe me! I love you! I would
never—"

 

 

Ruairc was dragged away kicking and screaming while Morgana went
outside to gather men and weapons. She headed to Darkie's stall, and
saddled him herself while the two cousins issued orders.

 

 

Patrick and Finn were all for coming with her, but Morgana refused
firmly.

 

 

“No, wait until I have gone, and then let Ruairc out to supervise
the garrison. Tell him I order him not to follow me under any
circumstances, is that clear? Send messages to Tulach, Ma Niadh, and
Cullen to get the villages cleared and lie low. No movement, no
lights. If they do head that way, I want them to think the castles
are still deserted.”

 

 

“But you can’t go with only a handful of men!” Finn protested.

 

 

“The MacMahons want to draw me out, and this is the only way to
discover their plans. Stay here, and Owen or one of the other men
will bring you word if anything happens to me,” Morgana ordered.

 

 

She leapt into the saddle, and thundered down the road towards
Kilgarven at the head of her troop.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

Morgana rode towards the convent like one possessed, but as she
neared Kilgarven, she had the men halt and conceal themselves in the
woods. There were too many unanswered questions in the back of her
mind, but fanciful, incredible though it seemed, she began to
believe she had found the key to the puzzle.

 

 

“Owen, Fintan, ride up to the gates and ask for water. Tell them
you've ridden from Clogher and you and your mount are thirsty
because of the heat. Come back and tell me who answers the door.”

 

 

“But all the nuns are dead, Sister Joan said so,” Owen protested.

 

 

“I see some large mounds over there, which look like burial pits.
Why would they slaughter all the nuns and then bury them? Don’t
argue, just do it now,” Morgana commanded.

 

 

The men rode on ahead.

 

 

Ten minutes later they returned with the incredible news which
shocked everyone except Morgana.

 

 

“It was your sister Aofa, dressed in a habit. We couldn't see her
face, but we knew the voice without a doubt. She handed out a bucket
of water, but said that since they were a closed order, she couldn’t
let us in,” Fintan reported back.

 

 

“What on earth is she doing here?”Owen said.

 

 

Morgana looked from one to the other, then knelt and began to sketch
on the ground with a stick. “The one question which has preyed on my
mind is why the dissolution of the two monasteries nearest our
border with the MacMahons, and why
this
convent.

 

 

“The reasons become clear if we stop to consider all the
difficulties we’ve had with looking after our men. Where else could
you feed and house hundreds of men except a place designed for
hundreds of residents?”

 

 

“You mean they killed the nuns and priests, or chased them away, in
order to bring troops in here?” Fintan gasped.

 

 

“And why steal our ships, our Irish-built ships only?” Morgana posed
the question.