CHAPTER III.
THE DARK MASTER.
"There are two things, Yellow Brian, for you to mind. First, you musthave men at your back who know you for their master; second, you muststand alone, giving and receiving aid from no man or party in theland."
Brian nodded and stored away the words in his heart, for in their threeweeks of wandering he had learned that Turlough Wolf was better aid thanmany men. It was his doing that, when they had chanced on a party ofravagers beyond Carrick, Yellow Brian had been led into strife withtheir leader. The upshot of that matter was that there was a dead rover;Yellow Brian had a dozen horsemen behind him and money in his purse, andof the dozen none but feared utterly this silent man who fought like afiend.
To the dozen had been added others--four Scotch plunderers strayed fromHamilton's horse and half a dozen Breffnians from Ormond's army, who hadbeen driven out of Munster by the rising of the Parliament men there.They were a sadly mixed score, of all races and creeds, but werefighting ruffians to a man, and were bound together by Brian's solemnpledge that he himself would slay any who quarreled. The result waspeace.
So now, with a good score of men behind him, Yellow Brian had riddendown into Galway, was past Lough Corrib and Iar Connaught, and was hardupon Connemara.
There was a thin snow upon the hills, and the bleak wind presaged more;but the score of men sang lustily as they rode. Two days before they hadcome upon a dozen strayed Royalist plunderers, and had gained greatstore of food and drink--particularly drink. So all were well contentfor the time being.
"Turlough," asked Brian suddenly, as they rode side by side, "did youever hear of one called the Black Woman?"
The Wolf crossed himself and grimaced.
"That I have, Yellow Brian, but dimly. They say she deals in magic andsorcery, and no good comes of meeting with her. But stop--there arehorsemen on the road! Scatter the men, and quickly; let us two bidehere."
There was cunning in the advice, for the two had come to a bend in theroad and the men were a hundred yards behind them. Brian drew rein atsight of a score of men a scant quarter-mile away and riding up the hilltoward them. He knew that they must also have been seen, but his menwould still be out of sight, so he turned with a quick word:
"Off into the rocks, men! If I raise my sword, come and strike. Off!"
As he spoke he bared that same huge cut-or-thrust brand he had bornefrom Drogheda and set the point on his boot. Instantly the men scatteredon either side the road, where black rocks thrust up from the snow, andwithin two minutes they and their horses had disappeared.
The riders below came steadily forward in a clump, and Brian saw oldTurlough staring with bulging eyes. Then the Wolf half caught at hisbridle, as if minded to fly, and his hands were trembling.
"What ails you, man?" smiled Brian. "Are they magicians and sorcerers,then?"
"No, _fareer gair_--worse luck!" blurted out the other. "Look at thelittle man who rides first, Yellow Brian!"
Brian squinted against the snow-glare, and saw that the leader of theapproaching party seemed indeed to be a little man with hunchedshoulders and head that glinted steel.
"A hunchback!" he exclaimed. "Well, who is he?"
"The Dark Master--O'Donnell More himself! It is in my mind that this isa black day, Brian Buidh. O'Donnell More is the master of all men atcraft, and the match of most men at weapons. Beware of him, master,beware! I had thought that he was still under siege at Bertragh Castle,else I had never taken this road."
"Nonsense!" laughed out Brian joyously, drinking in the clear afternoonair. "So much the more honor if we slay him, Turlough Wolf! Let himmatch me at weapons, or you at wits, if he can!"
Turlough muttered something and drew back behind Brian's steed withpallid face. Yellow Brian, however, having a sure trust in his own rightarm and his hidden men, scanned the approaching O'Donnell curiously,seeking what had inspired such unwonted fear in the old gray Wolf.
He could find nothing ominous in that hunched figure, save its mail-coatand steel helm. Yet the face was peculiar. Over a drooping mustache ofblack flared forth two intense black eyes. Brian noted this, and thethin, curved nose and prominent chin, and laughed again.
"Who is this Dark Master, Turlough?"
The other shivered slightly. "He is an O'Donnell from the north, comehere some ten years since--he seized on Bertragh even as we intendseizing on a stead, and has since done evil things in the land. Nowhush, for they say the wind bears him idle talk."
Brian's thin lips curved a trifle scornfully, but he kept silence,watching the approaching men. At fifty yards' distance they halted.Their leader eyed the motionless pair for a moment and then slowly rodeon alone, waving back his followers. And Yellow Brian made a strangefigure, with his ruddy hair streaming from beneath his steel cap and thebright, naked sword rising up from toe to head beside him.
"Well?" O'Donnell More's voice was deep and harsh, though Brianafterward found that it could be changed to suit its owner's mood. "Whoare you thus disputing my passage?"
"I am Brian Buidh," came Brian's curt reply. "As for dispute, that is asyou will."
"Yellow Brian?" The black brows shot up in surprise. "A strange name.Whence come you, and seeking what?"
"I seek men, O'Donnell More." Brian swiftly determined that this was aman who might give him aid, a man after his own heart. "Whence I come ismy affair. Give me men, and I will repay with gold."
"What need have you of men, Yellow Brian," came the sardonic answer,"when your own lie hidden among the rocks?"
Now indeed Brian started, whereat the other smiled grimly.
"How knew you that?"
"If you recognized me from afar, you had not stayed to meet me unlessyou had men," stated O'Donnell shrewdly enough.
"True," said Brian, and laughed out. "Well said, O'Donnell. I have ascore, and want another score. I will match mine against yours, or makea pact, as you desire."
The Dark Master sat fingering his sword-hilt and considered. With theblack brows down and the black eyes fixed on him, Brian suddenly beganto like the man less.
"I will give you service," returned O'Donnell at last.
Brian smiled. "Men serve me, not I them."
At this curt answer O'Donnell looked black, then fell into thought, hisshoulders hunched up and his head drawn in like the head of a turtle.Brian wished now that he had struck first and talked afterward.
Finally the Dark Master looked up with a slow smile.
"Welcome to you, Brian of the hard eyes and hollow cheeks," he said."_Slaintahut!_ I will not give you men, but I will give you the loan ofmen if you will do me one of two favors. Ten miles to the south of herethere is an old tower on a cliff, and in the tower dwells a man withcertain companions who sets me at naught. On an island out near GolamHead is a castle where a woman rules, who has also set me at naught. Go,reduce either of these twain, and I will lend you twoscore men for threemonths."
Brian sat his great horse and looked at the Dark Master. He would havesought advice from Turlough Wolf, save that he did not like to turn hisback on those burning eyes. After all, the pact was not a bad one.
"These enemies of yours--who are they, and what force have they?"
The Dark Master chuckled, and his head shot out from between hisshoulders.
"The man is called Cathbarr of the Ax, and he is a hard man to fight,for he has ten men like himself, axmen all. The woman cannot fight, butshe has a swift mind, many men, and her name is Nuala O'Malley, of theO'Malleys of Erris."
"I had sooner fight a man than a woman," returned Brian slowly. "Also,this Cathbarr of the Ax has fewer men. I will do you this favor,O'Donnell Dubh."
He gave no sign of the wonder that had shot into his mind at the name ofCathbarr, except that his blue eyes seemed changed suddenly to cold ice.The Dark Master saw the change, and his smile withered. Brian, watchinghim, reflected that this malformed freebooter could be venomous-lookingat times.
"I have passed my word," O'Donnell the Black made cur
t answer. "Fetcheither of the twain to Bertragh, dead or alive, and you have the loan oftwoscore men for three months, free. Is it a pact?"
"It is a pact," answered Brian, and at that the other galloped back tohis men.
Brian swung his sword and flung it high into the air; before it hadflashed down to nestle in his palm again, his men were scrambling intothe road. He sheathed the sword, smiling a little, and turned toTurlough.
"Well? To your mind or not, Wolf?"
"My father saw the Brown Geraldine at Dublin," responded that worthy,scratching the gray beard which had begun to sprout. "They broke hisbones with the back of an ax and swung him out in a cage until he died,and after. He made pacts too easily."
"Well?" asked Brian again, but a dull flush crossed his cheeks.
"I gave you my rede," said Turlough sullenly. "I said to stand alone,receiving aid from neither man nor faction. Now there is mischief to berepaired."
"Then my sword shall repair it," said Brian, and ordered the men toswing in after him. "Guide us to this tower of Cathbarr's, for my honoris in my own keeping."
They swung about and headed to the south and the sea.
The hill-paths, which Turlough Wolf seemed to know perfectly, werecruelly hard on the horses; none were as yet trodden down, for the snowwas fresh, and all the west coast lay desolate. The plague had strickenGalway and Mayo heavily that year, smiting the mountains with death.Some few parties of Roundhead horse had come through, because theyfeared God and Ireton more than the plague, and some Royalists had fledup from the south for much the same reason.
In any case, Yellow Brian found all the land desolate, and liked it. Themore wasted the land, he reflected, the more chance for that sword ofhis to find swinging-room. As he had ridden, news had come from theeast--news of the Wexford killing and the curse that was come upon theland. Owen Ruadh O'Neill was not yet dead, but Brian knew that he hadprophesied truly. Ireland's day was gloaming fast.
Despite the dismal tone of Turlough Wolf, Brian told himself that he haddone a good day's work. O'Donnell Dubh would keep his word beyond anyquestion. As for the man he was to slay, the only part of it whichtroubled Brian was the prediction of the Black Woman at the Dee water.She had known him, and had prophesied O'Neill's death, and had spoken ofthe west and this Cathbarr of the Ax. After all, however, she might haveshot a chance shaft which had gone true. Brian had no faith in magic.
All that afternoon he rode on, Turlough Wolf ahead of him, the menbehind. They feared and hated the old Wolf as much as they feared andloved Brian.
Progress was slow, owing to the bad paths, the snow, and sundry changesof direction, so that when night fell they had covered but eight milesof the ten. Turlough suggested that they push on and finish theirbusiness at a stroke, but Brian curtly refused. So the men made camp inlee of a cliff and proceeded to feast away the last of their provisionsand wine, in confidence that on the morrow they would have more, or elsewould need none.
Brian and Turlough built a fire apart, and after their repast Brianbroke silence with a request for information about Cathbarr. It was hisfirst speech since the parting with the Dark Master.
"I never heard of him," responded Turlough. "No doubt he is some outlawwho has become a thorn in the Dark Master's flesh. With the woman it isdifferent."
"Tell me of her," said Brian, gazing into the fire.
"She is an O'Malley, and, like all the clan, makes much of ships andseamen and little of horses and riders. When the Dark Master came, tenyears ago, he slew her father and mother by treachery, and would haveslain her but that her men carried her off. She was a child then. Nowshe is a woman, very bitter against O'Donnell Dubh, and is allied withthe Parliament so that her ships may have the run of the seas, it issaid. O'Donnell takes sides with no faction, but caters to all. He laysnets and snares, and men fall into them, and he laughs."
"Why is Nuala O'Malley called the Bird Daughter?" asked Brian quietly.
At this question old Turlough rose on his elbow, and in his wide, grayeyes was set mingled fear and wonder.
"_M'anam an diaoul!_" he spat out. "Who are you to know this thing?"
"Answer my question," returned Brian, hiding his own surprise.
"Seven years ago, master, I was at Sligo Bay with O'Dowda when Hamiltoncut us to pieces. Nuala O'Malley had brought us some powder--she was buta slip of a girl then. In the evening I was down at the ship when I sawher come from below, a hooded pigeon in her hands. She whispered in thebird's ear, set off the hood, and the bird flew into the night. I namedher Bird Daughter, but no other man knew the name."
"Then a woman did," chuckled Brian dryly. "It was but a carrier pigeon,Turlough; I have seen them used in Spain. Now listen to me."
With that he told him of the Black Woman and his weird meeting at Deewater. Old Turlough listened in no little amazement, for he was full ofsuperstitious fancies, but Brian said nothing of his own name. Theuncanny prophecies, however, which now seemed on the road to fulfilmentwere enough to give any man pause.
When he had finished, a very subdued Turlough Wolf stated that the BlackWoman was an old hag who wandered all over the land, that some calledher crazy and others thought her inspired, and that his own belief wasthat she was a banshee, no less.
At this Brian saw the thing in a more rational light. The old woman knewof this nook in the west, and, attracted to him by his resemblance tothe long-dead earl, she had endeavored to steer him thither. After all,it was quite simple.
Of course, old Turlough swore that he had never breathed his name ofBird Daughter to a living soul, and that it was but a name he had usedin his own mind for the slim girl who had fetched powder from the south.Brian chuckled, guessing that Turlough was not the only one who had seencarrier pigeons used, and who had ascribed the thing to higher powers.
The incident served the purpose of establishing a firmer intimacybetween Brian and the old man, however, and convinced Turlough that hismaster was destined to fly high. Nor through all the storm of men thatbefell after did Turlough again breathe reproof as he had dared thatday.
"I begin to see that your advice was good, Turlough Wolf," said Brianthe next morning, as he rode shivering from camp. "As to making my menknow me for their master, that troubles me little; but I think it willbe a hard matter to avoid making pacts, and to stand alone."
"Lean on your sword," grunted old Turlough. "To my notion, suchfriendship as that huge blade of yours can give is better than good.Order men ahead."
Brian nodded and sent two of the men ahead as scouts, with the Wolfhimself. For the better part of an hour they made slow headway among therocks, and then emerged suddenly on the slope leading down to the cliffsand sea. Turlough pointed to the left.
"There lies the tower, if I mistake not."
Drawing rein, Brian saw at once why he had been sent on this errand.Cathbarr's tower was an old ruin at the end of a long and narrowheadland--indeed, at high tide most of the headland would be covered,for it was low and yet beyond shot of the cliffs. Except from the water,it was almost impregnable; cannon might have reached it from shore, buttwo axmen could have held the narrow way against an army.
Brian laughed softly and ordered the men to remain where they were.
"What are you going to do, master?" queried old Turlough anxiously.
"I am going to lean on my sword, as you advised me," chuckled Brian, androde on alone.