CHAPTER VIII.
HOW BRIAN WAS NETTED.
The Dark Master sat in his dark hall, brooding.
It was a bad morning, for there was a sweep of wind and black cloudmingled with snow bearing out of the north; and since the great hall,with its huge fireplace, was the warmest part of the castle, as many ofthe men as could do so had drifted thither, but without making any unduedisturbance over it.
For that matter, they might have passed unseen, since the hall was blackas night save for a single cresset above the fireplace. Here sat theDark Master, a little oaken table before him on which his breakfast hadrested, and at his side crouched a long, lean wolfhound that nuzzled himunheeded. On the other side the table sat the old _seanachie_, who wasblind, and who fingered the strings of his harp with odd twangings andmutterings, but without coherence, for O'Donnell had bade him keepsilence.
"Go and see what the weather is," commanded the Dark Master. A man roseand ran outside, while other men came in with wood. Their mastermotioned them away, although the fire had sunk down into embers.
"A gale from the north, which is turning to the eastward, with snow,master."
"Remain outside, and bring me word what changes hap, and of all that yousee or hear. Waste no time about it."
The Dark Master drew his cloak about his humped shoulders, and in theflickering dim light from overhead his face stood out in all its ghastlypallor, accentuated by the dead black hair and mustache. But his eyeswere burning strangely, and when they saw it the men drew back, and morethan one sought the outer chill in preference to staying.
Now O'Donnell Dubh stared into the embers and muttered below his breath,while, as if in response, a little flickering whirlwind of gray ash roseup and fell back again, so that it blew over the embers and deadenedthem. The muscles of the Dark Master's face contracted until his teethflashed out in a silent snarl.
"I could have slain, and I did not," he whispered as if to himself. "Butthere is still time, and I will not be a fool again!"
The watching men shivered, for it seemed that the wind scurried down thewide chimney and again blew up the gray ash until the embers glowedthrough a white coating. But the wind wrought more than this, for itbrought down from the gray clouds a whispering murmur that driftedthrough the hall, and in that murmur were mingled the sounds of beatinghoofs and ringing steel and shrieking men.
"Are watchers posted over the hills and the paths and the Galway roads?"spoke out the Dark Master as he gazed into the ashes.
"They are watching, master," answered a deep voice from the darkness.
Suddenly the wolfhound raised its head and stared into the ashes also,as if it saw something there that no man saw, for the bristles lifted onits neck, and it whined a little. O'Donnell dropped his hand to the thinmuzzle, and the dog was quiet again. But after that the men stared atthe fireplace with frightened eyes.
"There is still time, though one has escaped me," said the Dark Master,looking up suddenly at his sightless harper, who seemed to fallatrembling beneath the look. "The one who has escaped matters not, forhis bane comes not at my hands. It is the other whom I shall slay--BrianBuidh of the hard eyes. Then the Bird Daughter. But it seems to me thatone stands in my path of whom I do not know."
He brooded over the ashes as his head sank between his shoulders like aturtle's head. Then once again the wind swooped down on the castle, andwhistled down the chimney, and filled the great hall with a thin noiselike the death-rattle of men. The cresset wavered and fell to smokingoverhead.
The Dark Master reached his hand across the table and caught the hand ofthe blind harper and spread it out on the oak. A little shudder shookthe old man, and as if against his will he spread out his other handlikewise, his two hands lying between those of the Dark Master. Thenthere fell a terrible and awestruck silence on the hall.
The stillness was perfect, and continued for a long while. Slowlyoccurred a weird and strange thing, for, although no blast whimpereddown the chimney, the ashes fell away from the embers, which began toglow more redly and set out the forms of the Dark Master and the blindharper in a ruddy light. Suddenly a man pointed to the feet of the DarkMaster, and would have cried out but that another man struck him back.
For the ashes had drifted out from the fireplace, flake after flake, andwere settling about the feet of the Dark Master beneath the table. Theyrose slowly into a little gray pile; then one of the men shrieked inhorror at the sight, and the Dark Master threw out his head.
"Slay him," he said quietly and drew in his head once more, staring atthe table.
There was a thudding blow and a groan, then the stillness of death. Theashes were quiet; the fire glowed ruddily. After a little there came asoft whirl of soot down the chimney, blackening the embers. The sootrose and fell, rose and fell, again and again; it was as if an eddyingdraft of wind were trying to raise it. Finally it was lifted, but itonly whirled about and about over the embers, like a shape drawntogether by some uncanny force.
The Dark Master raised his head as a clash of steel and the voice of thewatcher came from the outer doorway.
"Master, the blast thickens with black fog!"
"Remain on watch," said O'Donnell, and his head fell.
But through the hall men's hands went out to one another in thedarkness. For storm-driven fog was not a thing that many men had seeneven on the west coast, and when it did happen men said that a warlockwas at work. There was not far to seek for the warlock in this case,muttered the O'Donnells.
Now the Dark Master looked into the fireplace and that whirling figureof soot raised itself anew and began its unearthly dance over theembers. After no long time men saw that the pile of gray ashes under thetable was lifting also, lifting and whirling as though the wind spun it;but there was no wind.
"There is a man to be blinded," said the Dark Master. "Let him beblinded with fog and snow, and the men with him, and let the wind comeout of the east and drive him to this place."
Slowly, so slowly that no man could afterward say where there wasbeginning or end, the whirling figure of soot dissipated; and little bylittle the dancing stream of gray ashes drifted back into the fireplace;then it also dissipated, seeming to pass up the chimney, so that theembers glowed red and naked.
"_Seanachie_," said the Dark Master in a terribly piercing voice, "whois this standing in my way, standing between me and Brian of the hardeyes?"
The blind harper began to tremble, but again came the clash and thewatcher's voice from the doorway.
"Master, there is snow mingled with the fog, and the wind is shifting tothe eastward."
"Light the beacon and remain on watch," said the Dark Master. But at thewatcher's word new terror seized on the men in the hall.
"_Seanachie_, who stands in my way? Speak!"
The beard of the blind harper quivered and rose as if the wind liftedit, but men felt no wind through the hall. Then the old man began towrithe in his chair, and twisted to take his hands from the table, buthe could not, although only he alone held them there. Suddenly hismouth opened, and a voice that was not his voice made answer:
"Master, two people stand in your way."
"Describe them," said the Dark Master, and those near by saw that sweatwas running down his face, despite the coldness of the hall. After amoment's silence the old harper spoke again; he had lost his eyes twentyyears since, yet he spoke of seeing.
"Master, I see two people but dimly. One is a man, huge of stature andstanding like Laeg the hero, the friend of the hero Cuculain, leaningupon an ax--"
"That is Cathbarr of the Ax," broke in the Dark Master. "His bane comesnot at my hands. Who is the other?"
Again the old harper seemed to struggle, and his voice came morefaintly:
"I cannot see, master. I think it is a woman--"
"That is the Bird Daughter," quoth the Dark Master.
"Nay, it is an old woman, but she blinds me--"
And the harper fell silent, writhing, until horror gripped those wholooked on. O'Don
nell leaned forward, his head sticking straight out andhis eyes blazing.
"What do you see, _seanachie_? Speak!"
"I see men," and the old harper's voice rose in a great shriek. "A stormof men and of hoofs, and red snow on the ground, and fire over the snow,and the man of the ax laughing terribly. And I see other men ridinghard; men with long hair and the flag of England in their midst--andCuculain smites them--Cuculain of the yellow hair--the Royal Hound ofUlster smites them and scatters them--"
"_Liar!_"
With the hoarse word the Dark Master leaned forward and smote the blindharper with his fist, so that the old man slid from his chair senseless.Upon that the Dark Master swung around with his teeth bared and his headdrawn in like the head of a snake about to strike.
"Lights!" he roared. "Lights! Bear the _seanachie_ to his chamber, andsend men to ring in the harbor and build beacons on the headlands.Hasten, you dogs, or I'll strip the flesh from you with whips!"
Under his voice and his flaming eyes the hall sprang into life, whilethe men carried out the blind harper and one of their own number who hadbeen stricken with madness at what he had seen. Then the hall blazed upwith cressets, logs were flung on the fire, and parties of men set outto build beacons and guard the bay as the Dark Master had given command.And when word was spread abroad among the others of what had chanced inthe hall that morning, Red Murrough, the Dark Master's lieutenant, sworea great oath.
"If that Cuculain of whom the _seanachie_ spoke be not the man BrianBuidh, then may I go down to hell alive!"
And the men, who feared Red Murrough's heavy hand and hated him,muttered that he would be like to travel that same road whether livingor dead, in which there was some truth.
While these things took place in the hall at Bertragh--and they weretold later to Brian by many who had seen them and heard them, alltelling the same tale--Brian and his sailing galley was making hardweather of it. Six of the O'Malleys had been sent with him to manage thegalley, for he was no seaman and had placed himself in their hands; andafter rounding into Kilkieran Bay from the castle harbor and reachingout across the mouth of the bay toward Carna, intending to reachCathbarr's tower direct, the blast came down on them, and even theO'Malleys looked stern.
Sterner yet they looked when Brian cried that Golam Head was veiling infog behind them, and with that the wind swerved almost in a moment andswept down out of the east, bearing fog and snow with it. Nor was thisall, for the shift of wind bore against the seas and swept downcurrents and whirlpools out of the bay, and after the snow and black fogshrieked down upon them, the seamen straightway fell to praying.
"Get up and bail!" shouted Brian, kicking them to their feet, for theseas were sweeping over the counter. The helmsman groaned and bade himdesist, and almost at the same instant their mast crashed over the bow,breaking the back of one seaman, and the galley broached to.
With that the O'Malleys ceased praying and fell to work with a will,getting out the sweeps and bailing. The mingling of snow, shriekingwind, and black fog had been too much for their superstitious natures,but made no impression on Brian, for the simple reason that he did notsee why fog and wind should not come together. After he understood theirfears better he shamed them into savage energy by his laughter, andsince the broken-backed man had gone overboard, took his sweep and sethis muscles to work.
They made shift to keep the craft before the wind, but presently Brianfound that half the men's fear sprang from the fact that the fog andsnow blinded them, shutting out the land, and that the shifting wind hadcompletely bewildered them. When he asked for their compass, theirleader grunted:
"No need have we for a compass on this boat, Brian Buidh, save whenwarlocks turn the fog and wind upon us. I warrant that were it not forthe fog, we would be safe in port ere now. As it is, the Virgin aloneknows where we are or whither going."
"This is some of the Dark Master's wizardry," growled out another."Before we hung those men of his last night, they said that the windswould bear word of it to the dark one, _cead mile mollaght_ on him!"
"Add another thousand curses for me," ordered Brian, "but keep to thebailing, or I'll give you a taste of my foot! And no more talk ofwarlocks."
The five men fell silent, and indeed they needed all their breath, forthe struggle was a desperate one. Instead of lessening, the fog onlyincreased with time, and even Brian began to perceive the marvel in itas swirl after swirl of darkness swept over them. Yet, since the windwas from the east, he reasoned, it would naturally blow out the fog fromthe bogs and low lands. But this explanation was received in doursilence by the men, so he said no more.
There was no doubt that Cathbarr had reached home safely, since thenight had been fair enough for the winter season. An hour passed, andthen another, still without a lessening of the eery storm; and the nerveof the seamen was beginning to give way under the strain, when thehelmsman let out a wild yell:
"A light ahead! A beacon!"
The rowers twisted about with shouts of joy, and Brian perceived afaint, ruddy light against the sky. Also, the fog began to lessensomewhat; and upon making out that the beacon undoubtedly came from ahigh tower or crag, the shout passed around that they had headed back toGorumna with the shifting wind.
This heartened them all greatly, the more so since the gale drove themstraight onward toward the beacon. The fog closed down again, but theruddy glare pierced through it; and of a sudden there was no more fogabout them--only a blinding thick snow, which made all things grotesque.Then two more beacons were made out, lower than the first, and the menyelled joyously that fires had been lighted on either side the harbor toguide them in. And so they had been, but otherwise than the men thought.
Half frozen with the cold, they drove on through the snow and sprayuntil at length they swept in between the guiding fires and scanned theshores for landing. Then the snow ceased, though the hurricane howleddown behind them with redoubled fury; and as they floated in against alow, rocky shore, silence of wild consternation fell on them all. Forthey had come to Bertragh Castle, and fifty feet away a score of menwere waiting, while others were running down with torches.
Even in that moment of terrible dismay, Brian noted their muskets, andhow the lighted matches flared like fireflies in the wind.
"Trapped!" groaned one of the men, and they would have rowed out againinto the teeth of the storm had not Brian stayed them.
"No use, comrades. They have muskets, and there are cannon up above. Rowin, and if we must die, then let us die like men and not cowards."
Seeing no help for it, the men growled assent, and they drifted slowlyin, all standing ready with drawn swords, while Brian's Spanish bladeflared in the prow. Then in the midst of the gathered men he saw a darkfigure with hunched shoulders, sword in hand. As he turned to the seamenbehind him, there was a glitter in his blue eyes colder than the icyblast behind them.
"There is the Dark Master, comrades! Let him be first to fall."
They drove up on the shore, and Brian leaped out, with the men behindhim. Still the group above stood silent until the voice of O'Donnellsheared through the gale. "Fire, and drop Yellow Brian first."
So there was to be no word of quarter! As the thought shot like firethrough Brian's mind, he leaped forward with a shout. A ragged stream ofmusketry broke out from the men gathered on the higher rocks, and heheard the bullets whistle. He paid no heed to the seamen who followedhim, however. His eyes were fixed on the Dark Master's figure, and withonly one thought in his mind he plunged ahead.
More and more muskets spattered out; a bullet splashed against his jack,and another; something caught his steel cap and tore it away, and a hotstab shot through his neck. But the group of men was only a dozen pacesfrom him now, and a wild yell broke from his lips as he saw O'Donnellstep forward to meet him.
Then only did he remember Turlough's speech on the day of that firstmeeting with the Dark Master--"The master of all men at craft and thematch of most men at weapons"--and he knew that, despite the hunchedshoulders,
this O'Donnell must be no mean fighter. But the next instanthe was gazing into the evil eyes, and their blades had crossed.
Flaming with his anger, Brian forced the attack savagely; then a sharpthrust against his jack showed him that O'Donnell was armed with arapier, and he fell to the point with some caution. With the firstmoment of play, he knew that he faced a master of fence; yet almost uponthe thought his blade ripped into the Dark Master's arm.
Involuntarily he drew back, but O'Donnell caught the falling sword inhis left hand and lunged forward viciously. Just as the blades metagain, Brian saw a match go to a musket barely six paces away. Hewhirled aside, but too late, for the musket roared out, and a drift ofstars poured into his brain. Then he fell.
Like a flash the Dark Master leaped at the man who had fired and spittedhim through the throat; the others drew back in swift terror, forO'Donnell was frothing at the mouth, and his face was the face of amadman. With a bitter laugh he turned and rolled Brian over with hisfoot. The five seamen had gone down under the bullets.
"He is only stunned," said Red Murrough. "Shall I finish it?"
"If you want to die with him, yes. Carry him in, and we will nail him upto the gates to-morrow."
And the clouds fell asunder, and the stars came out, cold and beautiful.