CHAPTER XIX.
BRIAN MEETS THE BLACK WOMAN.
"The storm is over, master, or will be by this night."
"Too late now, Turlough."
Brian and the old man stood in the courtyard, while the Dark Master wasseeing to horses being made ready for them. Drawing his cloak fartherabout his hunched shoulders, the latter turned to Brian with a mockingsneer.
"Now farewell, Brian Buidh, and forget not to repay that loan, if youcan gather enough men together. When you come again, you will find mehere. A merry riding to you. _Beannacht leath!_"
Brian looked at him grimly.
"Your curse would make better company than your blessing, O'Donnell," hesaid, and turned to his horse with no more words.
The Scots who were standing around gave vent to a murmur of approval,and Brian saw the black looks passing between them and the wildO'Donnells. The Highlanders had done murdering enough in Ireland sinceHamilton brought them over, but they were outspoken men, who had littlelove for poisoners; and as Brian settled into the saddle with his hugesword slung across his back, he caught more than one word of mutteredapproval, which the Dark Master was powerless to check.
So Yellow Brian rode out from the castle he had lost, with Turlough Wolfat his heels, and his heart was very sore. Once across the filled-inmoat and he saw fifty men at work by the shore, loading the dead intoboats to be buried in the bay, for the ground was hard-frozen.
Parties of Scots troopers and the horseless O'Donnells were scatteredover the farmlands and country ahead, but these offered no menace as thetwo horsemen rode slowly through them. For all his bitterness, Briannoted that the four pirate ships had been brought around into the baybefore the castle, into which the Scots had moved, while a great numberof the O'Donnells had landed and were hastily throwing up brush huts onthe height above the shore, evidently intending to camp there for thepresent.
That was a dark leave-taking for Brian, since he had lost so many menand his castle to boot. Yet more than once he looked back on Bertragh,and when they came to the last rise of ground before the track woundinto the hills and woods, he drew rein and pointed back with a curtlaugh.
"This night I shall return, Turlough, and I think we shall catch theDark Master off his guard at last. If we throw part of our men on thatcamp at dawn and the rest upon the castle, the tables may yet beturned."
"A good rede, Brian O'Neill," nodded the old Wolf approvingly. At thushearing his name Brian flung Turlough one lightning-swift glance, thenpulled out his Spanish sword and threw it high, and caught it again witha great shout.
"Tyr-owen! _Slainte!_"
With that he put spurs to his horse and rode on with better heart,striving to forget his troubles in thinking of the stroke he would dealthat night. If those three pigeons had won clear to Gorumna, he wouldfind Nuala and her men waiting at Cathbarr's tower, and before the dawnthey would be back again and over the hills.
So they rode onward, and presently came to a stretch of forest, darkagainst the snow. Suddenly Turlough drew up with a frightened glancearound.
"Master--what is that wail? If I ever heard a banshee, that is the cry!Beware of the Little People, master--"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Brian, drawing rein also and listening. He heard afaint, sobbing cry come from ahead, and so mournful was it, so chargedwith wild grief, that for an instant his heart stood still, and thecolor fled from his face.
"It is some woman wailing her dead, Turlough," he said at length,although doubtfully. "Yet I have never heard a _caoine_ like it; butonward, and let us see."
"Wait, master!" implored the old man. "Let us cut over the hills and goby another path--"
"Go, if you are afraid," returned Brian, and spurred forward. The otherhesitated, but followed unwillingly, and a moment later Brian came uponthe cause of that mournful wailing, as the trees closed about them andthe road wound into a hollow.
The dingle was so sheltered by the brooding pines that there was littlesnow, except on the track itself, and no wind. Under the spreadingsplay-boughs to the right was what seemed to be a heap of rags andtatters, though the wailing cry ceased as the two riders clattered down,with Turlough keeping well behind Brian.
The latter drew rein, seeing that the creature under the pine-boughs wassome old crone whose grief seemed more bitter still than his own.
"What is wrong, mother?" he cried cheerily. "Are you from one of theBertragh farms?"
The tattered heap moved slightly, and a wrinkled, withered face peeredup at him.
"Nay, I come from farther than that," and to his surprise there was amocking note in her voice, though it was weak. "That is a good horse ofyours, _ma boucal_; he must trot sixteen miles to the hour, eh?"
"All of that, mother," returned Brian, wondering if the old crone wasout of her senses. "Was it you whom I heard wailing a moment ago? Whereis your home?"
The old woman broke into a cackle of hideous laughter.
"My home, is it? Once I had a home, Yellow Brian--and it was inDungannon, with Tyr-owen and Cormac and Art and the noblest of thechiefs of Ulster to do me honor! Have you forgotten me, Brian O'Neill,since we met at the Dee Water?"
Then Brian gave a great cry, and swung down to earth, for now herecognized the Black Woman. But as he strode toward her she tried torise and failed, and forth from the midst of her rags came a quick gushof red blood. Brian leaped forward and caught her in his arms, pityingher.
"I knew you," she gasped out weakly, clutching at his shoulder. "I knewyou, son of Tyr-owen! You had yellow hair, but your face was the face Ionce loved, the face of the great Hugh--"
She stopped abruptly, and her words were lost in a choking gasp as bloodcame from her mouth. Brian swore.
"_Mile Mollaght!_ What has happened here, woman? Are you wounded?"
"Aye, those dogs of O'Donnells," she moaned feebly. Then new strengthcame to her, and she peered up with another cackle. "But did I not tellwisely, son? Have you not found Cathbarr of the Ax and the Bird Daughtereven as I foretold?"
"Yes, yes," returned Brian impatiently. "Where are you wounded, mother?We can take you--"
"Peace, avic," she cried. "They came on me last night, and my life isgone. You shall take vengeance for the old _calliagh_, Brian--but firstI must talk. Do you know who I am, avic--or who I was, rather?"
"How should I know that, mother?" answered Brian. "Old Turlough Wolf,yonder, swears you are some witch--"
"Turlough!" The hag raised herself on his arm, cackling. "So the oldWolf is still living! Do _you_ know me, Turlough? Do you remember thesorrowful day of the earl's flight?"
Old Turlough, who had ridden closer, bent over and looked down, fear inhis face. Suddenly he straightened up again with a wild cry.
"Noreen of Breffny! By my hand, it is the earl's love!"
"Aye, the earl's love!" she gasped out, falling back. "I was his love intruth, Yellow Brian, and he loved me above all the rest, thoughanother's hand closed his eyes and laid him to earth in Rome. I knew youwould come, Brian--I saw you at Drogheda, though you saw me not, and Ibade you come here into the West, and I have watched over you--"
She coughed horribly, clutching at Brian's arm. He stared down at her inamazement, for the incredible story seemed true enough. This old hag hadbeen that Noreen of Breffny of whom he had heard much--the fairest maidof the North, whom the great earl had loved to the last, though thechurch had not blessed their union.
Brian's old Irish nurse had often told him of the "Breffny lily," and itwas bitter and hard to realize that this ancient hag, withered andshrunk and done to death by the Dark Master's men, had been the fairestmaid in Ulster. She gasped out a little more of her story, and Brianfound that his wild surmises had been true; after seeing him andrecognizing him for one of the earl's house, she had instantly led hismind to this part of the country, being aware of the strife betweenO'Donnell and Nuala O'Malley. It had been a crazed notion enough, andsince then she had kept as near to him as possible in the half-sane ideathat she might help him.
How she had managed to do it ever remained a mystery to Brian, since hismarches had been none of the slowest, but she had done so.
"Where are--your men?" she exclaimed after a little. Brian told her whathad chanced at the castle, and she broke out in a last wild cacklinglaugh.
"Tyr-owen's luck!" she cried. "Betrayed and blasted, betrayed andblasted--but the root of the tree is still strong, Yellow Brian--give meyour blessing, master--give Noreen your blessing before you go to Rome,Hugh _mo mhuirnin_--"
Brian's face blanched and his hands trembled, for he saw that herwandering mind took him for his grandsire.
"_Dhia agus mhuire orth_," he murmured, and with a little sob the BlackWoman died.
Silence fell upon the dingle, as Brian gazed down at the woman hisgrandfather had loved, and whose love had been no less. Then Turloughpushed his horse closer, looking down with a shrewd leer.
"Said she not that it would be a black day when you met her again,master?" he queried with awe in his voice. "I think--"
"Keep silence!" commanded Brian shortly. "Get down from that horse anddig a grave."
"But the ground is frozen--" began old Turlough in dismay. Brian gavehim one look, and the old man hastily dismounted, crossing himself andmumbling.
Brian joined him, and they managed to scoop out a shallow grave withknife and sword, laid the old woman in it, and covered her up again. Itwas a sorry burial for the love of the great earl, but it was the bestthey could do.
Shaken more than he cared to admit, Brian mounted and rode on insilence. As he had thought, there was nothing supernatural about thisweird Black Woman, except, perhaps, the manner in which she hadcontrived to keep close to him. She had warned him at the StoneMountain, and she must have been keeping close to Bertragh ever since,unseen by any, with her unhinged mind driving her forward relentlessly.
"Poor woman!" he thought darkly, gazing into the hills ahead. "There hasbeen little luck to any who ever followed an O'Neill or loved anO'Neill! And now it seems likely that the same ill luck of all my familyis to dog my heels, bringing me up to the heights, only to cast me downlower than before. Well, I may fall, but it shall not be until I havedragged down the Dark Master. If I fall not I may yet best the ill-luckand conquer Millhaven for my own."
With that his mind leaped ahead again as the plan outlined itself tohim. The O'Donnell pirates must have brought their whole force to theDark Master's aid, and if he could but cut off that camp of theirsbetween the castle and the shore, Nuala O'Malley might bring her twoships against the weakened four and take them all.
Then, when the castle had fallen, he could sail north to Millhaven,reduce the stronghold there, and let fly his own banner at last. It wasa good plan, but it hung on many things.
With a short laugh at his own fancies he turned in the saddle as thevoice of Turlough broke into his musings.
"I mind the last time I saw the poor woman back yonder, master. It wasjust before the great flight, and I mind now that she was not soill-looking even then, though she was well past her youth, and that wasforty years ago. Tyr-connall's bag-pipe men were blowing as we marchedto Lough Swilly, and two earls rode in front when the poor _caillin_rushed out and flung herself under Tyr-owen's horse--oh, _Mhuire astruagh, Mhuire as truagh_ for the old days! And when the earl died, hername was on his lips, and I came home again to find her disappeared. Oh,what sorrow for the old days! Would that I had died in Rome with theprinces--"
"Stop that wailing," interrupted Brian sternly, for the old man waslashing himself into a frenzy of grief. "Put spurs to that horse ofyours, Turlough, for we must reach Cathbarr's tower by noon if possiblein order to start the men off over the hills. It'll be a long night'smarch, and I've no time to be idling here on the road."
Upon which he dug in his spurs and urged his steed into a gallop, and inorder to keep up, Turlough Wolf had to give over his laments and dolikewise. Brian forced himself to bend all his energies toward carryingout his final desperate plan, but he silently vowed that the old womanwho had so foully been cut down by the O'Donnells should not dieunavenged.
On they galloped without pause, gained the head of Bertraghboy Bay, andswung to the east on the last stretch of the trip. The storm which hadarisen so inopportunely was now dying away, and the sun was breakingthrough the gray clouds; when they turned out from the main track intothe hill-paths that led to Cathbarr's tower, the rough ground made themslow their pace. When they were still three miles from the tower,however, Brian gave a shout.
"Men, Turlough! Cathbarr has sent out men to meet us!"
So, indeed, it proved, and five minutes later a dozen men met them withyells of delighted welcome. From these overjoyed fellows Brian quicklylearned that Cathbarr was at the tower and that Nuala O'Malley had justarrived there.
So, leaving them to follow, he and Turlough went on at their best speed,and twenty minutes later they topped that same long rise from whichBrian had first gazed down on the little promontory where stoodCathbarr's tower. But now, as he saw what lay beneath, he drew up with ashout of amazement.
For around the tower and at the base at the neck of land were camped agoodly force of men, while at anchor near the tower lay--not Nuala's twoships alone, but also those other two of her kinsmen!
"Those two O'Malleys have returned from the south," exclaimed Turloughin wild delight. "That means more men and ships, master--we will cut offthose Millhaven pirates to a man!"
Brian sent out a long shout, but his arrival had already been noted. Ashe rode down the slope, men poured from the camp and tower, and ahead ofthem all came Cathbarr of the Ax, with Nuala and Lame Art and Shaun theLittle behind him.
"Welcome!" bellowed the giant with a huge laugh, pulling Brian from hishorse with a great hug of delight. "Welcome, brother!"
Brian escaped from his grip and bowed over the Bird Daughter's hand. Ashe rose, he saw that her face had lost its ruddy hue, and that her eyeswere ringed with darkness. Before he could speak she smiled and grippedhis hand.
"The birds came safe, and we know all. Yesterday arrived these kinsmenof mine, and their force is joined to our own, Yellow Brian--"
Brian held up his hand, halting her suddenly, and silence fell on themen who had crowded around. For a moment he gazed into her deep eyes,then flung up his head and his voice rang clear and stern in thestillness.
"Lady Nuala," he said quietly, "I promised you that when I slew the DarkMaster I would tell you my name. Before another day has passed I shallhave slain him; and now I tell you and your kinsmen that I renounce allfealty to you."
At this the Bird Daughter started, staring in amazement, while an abruptoath burst from Lame Art. Brian went on calmly.
"This I do because it is not meet that The O'Neill should give fealty toany, Lady Nuala. I am Brian O'Neill, of right The O'Neill and Earl ofTyr-owen, though these are empty titles. And this night you and I shallfall on Bertragh together, Bird Daughter, and when we have won it againit shall be yours as of old."
And amid a great roar of shouts welling up around him Brian bowed toNuala.
"Then, Brian O'Neill," she said, quieting the tumult a little, "am I tounderstand that you wish to make pact with me, and to receive noreward?"
For a moment he gazed openly and frankly into her eyes, and under hislook the red crept into her cheeks again; yet her own eyes did notflinch.
Brian laughed out.
"Yes, lady! It may be that I shall have a reward to ask of you, but thatmay not be until I have won back what I have lost for you."
"And what if the reward be too great?"
"Why, that shall be for you to say!" and Brian laughed again. "Is itagreed, Bird Daughter?"
For an instant he thought she meant to refuse, as she drew herself upand met his level eyes; the men around held their breaths, and theO'Malley chiefs glanced at each other in puzzled wonder. Then her quicklaugh rippled out and she gave him her hand.
"Agreed, Brian--and I hope that you can shave that yellow beard of yoursby to-morrow!"
/> And the great yell that went up from the men drowned all else in Brian'sears.