Nuala O'Malley

  CHAPTER XV.

  WHAT HAPPENED AT THE TARN.

  It had been long, indeed, since Brian had given thought to his meetingwith the Black Woman on the other side of Ireland. In that briefmeeting, the Black Woman had spoken of seeing the old earl, hisgrandfather, in his youth. Yet it was forty years since the two earls,O'Donnell and O'Neill, had fled together from Ireland, and even thenTyr-owen had been an old man. Unless this Black Woman was close on ahundred years of age, Brian could not see how she had known Hugh O'Neillin his youth.

  The mere fact that she had recognized him there in the moonlight wasproof of her true speaking, however. Brian could no longer hide fromhimself that her words had some strange prophecy in them. She hadforetold his meeting with Cathbarr and with the Bird Daughter, though,indeed, she might have been attempting only to guide him on the pathwhich he had afterward followed.

  While the men were saddling, Brian called Turlough and told of the hag'sword that she would meet him again "on a black day for him."

  "Now, what think you she meant by that, Turlough? Is this the meeting?"

  "No, master, for it is no meeting. It may be as you think, and that shewas but trying to lead you into the west; yet, for my part, I call itsorcery," and the old man crossed himself, for, like better men thanhimself, Turlough ascribed all he could not fathom to magic. "It seemsto me that she is some witch who is hanging on your tracks, and thatwhen--"

  "Oh, nonsense!" laughed Brian, flinging the matter from his mind. "Atany rate, she has served me well this time. Now, what rede shall wefollow in this matter, and shall we capture and slay the Dark Masterfirst, or fall on his men first, or both together?"

  "It is ill to sunder a force of men, master," quoth Turlough. "If thosehorsemen of O'Donnell's are encamped in a valley two miles to the north,it is a vale of which I know well. But we must mind this--if O'Donnellgets safe into Galway again with either these horsemen or thoseMillhaven pirates of his clan, he will drive hard against Bertragh."

  "The Dark Master shall come no more to Galway," said Brian grimly,fingering his ax. "Now finish, and quickly."

  "I have a plan in my mind, master; but unless we slay the Dark Master,it is like to fail us. Let us send a hundred of the men around to thenorth, for I will tell them how to ride, so that by this night they canfall upon those men of his and scatter them in the darkness, and drivethem south where we can slay them utterly at our wills. If we drove themback whence they came, there would be little craft in it, and it is tomy liking to do a thing well or not at all."

  "A true word there," nodded Brian, his eyes gleaming. "I think those menare as good as dead now, Turlough. Speak on."

  "With fifty men, master, you and I can reach the valley of the DubhLinn. We cannot do it with horses, unless we ride around to the north,and in that there would be danger of striking on the Dark Master'sscouts. But while our hundred are circling far around, we with fifty cango over the mountain by valleys and paths I know of, so that by thisevening we will come to the Black Tarn and strike the Dark Master as ourhundred men fall on his camp. That is my--"

  "Good!" cried Brian, leaping up eagerly. "Then we--"

  "Hold, master!" And Turlough caught his arm, quickly staying him. WhenBrian looked down he read a sudden fear in the old man's gray eyes."That was my first rede, Yellow Brian, and you would do well to hear mysecond also."

  "Say it," said Brian, and glanced at the brightening sky.

  "My second rede is this. That message might be a trap to ensnare us,though I have two minds about this Black Woman. But if we fail to slaythe Dark Master at the Black Tarn, we are like to have an ill time."

  "Why so?" asked Brian, for he could see no likelihood of that. "I saidthat we would slay him."

  "Master, do you hold the lives of men in your keeping?" In the gray eyesleaped a swift horror that amazed Brian. "I tell you that if the DarkMaster escapes from our hand, and his men are driven past our fifty intothe south, he will ride hard before us into Galway. I see evil in thatfirst rede of mine, Yellow Brian. I see evil in it--"

  He broke off, staring past Brian with fixed and unseeing eyes, his facerigid.

  "Turlough, are you mad?" Brian seized the other's shoulder, shaking himharshly. The old man shivered a little, and sanity came back into hiseyes as they met the icy blue of Brian's. "What daftness is upon you,man?"

  "I know not, master," whimpered old Turlough feebly. "Do as you will."

  "Then I will to follow your rede, divide my men as you say, and when wehave slain the Dark Master, we will cut off the last of these O'Donnellsof his, ride to Millhaven and take that hold, and send word to the BirdDaughter that she may keep Bertragh Castle and send Cathbarr north tome. Now go, and tell a hundred of the men how to ride around thismountain; then be ready to guide me over it to the Black Tarn."

  "You are a hard man, Yellow Brian," said Turlough, and turned him aboutand did as Brian had ordered.

  None the less, Brian gave some thought to that second rede ofTurlough's. He saw clearly enough that with the northern horsemen drivenpast, scattered though they might be, they could be cut off to a man ifthe Dark Master were slain. But if O'Donnell should escape by some trickof fate, he could gather up his men and drive south.

  "If he does that, there will be slaying between Sligo and Galway," sworeBrian quickly. "But I cannot see that he will escape me here. Whenanother day breaks, I shall have won my Spanish blade again--and thenho! for the Red Hand of Tyr-owen!"

  So Brian laughed and donned his jack and back-piece, while Turlough drewplans in the snow and showed the leaders of the hundred how to sweeparound without discovery so that they might fall on the northernhorsemen at eve.

  Brian had grown into an older and grimmer man since the day he had stoodbeside the bed of Owen Ruadh O'Neill, short though the time had been.Youth was still in his face when he smiled out, but suffering haddeepened his eyes and sunk his cheeks and drawn the skin tighter overthat powerful jaw of his. When he had armed, he stood in thought for alittle, with hand on jaw in his instinctive gesture, and wakenedsuddenly to find old Turlough bending the knee before him.

  "Now I know of what blood you come, Yellow Brian," said the old mansoftly. "I saw Hugh O'Neill, the great earl, standing even as you standnow, on the morning when we slew the English at the Yellow Ford."

  "Man, man!" exclaimed Brian in wonder; "that battle was fought fiftyyears ago, and yet you say that you were there?"

  "I was the earl's horse-boy, master." And Brian saw tears on the oldman's beard. "I loved him, and I was at the flight of the earls tenyears after, going with Tyr-owen to Italy, and it was these hands laidhim in his grave, master; master, have faith in me--"

  Brian put down his hands to those of Turlough, his heart strangelysoftened.

  "He was my grandfather," he said simply, and Turlough broke down andwept like a child.

  When they left their horses and the camp behind, Brian followedTurlough, feeling like a new man. He had lightened his heart of a greatload, and he wished that he had talked of these things with TurloughWolf long before this. Now he understood why the old man had offered himservice as he stood in that attitude on the battlements of O'Reilly'scastle after leaving Owen Ruadh, and he understood the love thatTurlough bore him, and the silence the old man had kept on the matter,though it must have ever been deep in his heart to speak out.

  No more words passed between them, nor did Brian tell Turlough more ofhis story until long after; but of this there was no need. As theyclimbed higher on the mountain they could see the hundred horsemenfiling off to the eastward; but soon these were lost sight of asTurlough led Brian and the fifty through the valleys and deep openings,which were drifted deep in snow, making progress slow and wearisome.

  Indeed, Brian thought afterward that this hard traveling might have beenresponsible for what chanced on the other side of the mountain.

  On the higher crests and ridges there was little snow, however, andTurlough seemed to know every inch of the place by heart, though morethan once Br
ian gave himself up for lost in the maze of smaller peaksand the twisted paths they followed. Most of the fifty Turlough hadchosen from those hillmen who had joined Brian by Lough Conn, so thatthey were not unused to such climbing, and remained with spiritsunshaken by the vast loneliness that surrounded them, and to which othermen might have succumbed somewhat.

  Brian himself was no little awed by the desolate grandeur of the StoneMountain, but he only wrapped his cloak more closely about him, andswore that the Dark Master should yield up the Spanish blade before manymore hours.

  And so indeed it was done, though not as Brian looked for.

  Until long after noon the band wended their way with great toil and painover the flanks of the mountain, until Turlough led Brian out to a pointof black rock and motioned toward the valleys below them.

  "There to the left," he said, "is the valley of the Black Tarn. Do yousee that smoke, Brian, and that dark spot between the trees and thelake?"

  Brian looked, squinting because of the snow-glare. Leading down from theside of the mountain itself was a valley--long, and widening graduallyto the plain, where a dark wood swallowed it up. Almost under his feet,as it were, was a small, round lake deep in the rock, with a small,frozen-over outlet that was lost in the snow.

  But farther down the valley-slopes there were trees, and among themhorses tethered and a fire strewing smoke on the air close beside.Between this little wood and the tarn itself there stood a low house ofthatch with smoke also rising from it, and from the other fire among thetrees came a sheen of steel caps and jacks, where were men.

  But to Brian all these things were very small and hard to make outdistinctly, as if he were looking at some carven mimicry, such aschildren are wont to use in play.

  "Now come," said Turlough Wolf. "It is no easy task getting therewithout being discovered, and the way is long."

  Brian found, indeed, that to avoid being seen from below they mustneeds take a roundabout way; but when the afternoon was far spent theyhad come to a snow-filled hollow among the rocks which Turlough declaredwas just over the edge of that valley-slope where stood the low house.Turlough said that in his day that house had not stood there, and heknew nothing of it.

  Since there could be no talk of lighting a fire, Brian's men huddledtogether in the hollow, and ate and drank cheerlessly. Brian was mindedto meet the Dark Master and win his Spanish blade with his own hand, sohe ordered that his men pass on after dark and make ready to fall uponthose men who were camped at the wood, but to hold off until he andTurlough had smitten the Dark Master in that little thatched house,where he was most like to be found. Turlough yeasaid this plan, for hetrusted greatly to Brian's strength.

  At length they set out under the cold stars, and Brian's men were veryweary, but promised to do all as he had commanded. He and Turlough setoff alone over the hill, and when they had come to the hill-crest aftermuch toiling through the snow they looked down and found the house ahundred yards below them.

  "Let us go down cautiously," said Turlough, "for I think we can peerthrough the thatch and plan our stroke well."

  So they struck down openly across the hill-slope, and found that therewas none on guard. The door of the house was fast shut, but Turloughstrode cautiously in the trampled snow around the house, where, at theside, a spark of firelight glittered through the loose thatch. To thishe led Brian, and Brian stooped down and looked through the cranny,while Turlough went farther and fared as well.

  There was but one room in the hut, and it was well lighted by the firethat glittered merrily on the hearth. Sitting not far away, but with hisback to Brian, was a man; he sat on a stool, and there seemed to be awide earthenware bowl of water or some dark liquid on the floor betweenhis feet into which he was staring. In his bent-down position hisrounded shoulders stood up stark against the fire, and Brian knew thiswas the Dark Master.

  His hand went to the pistol in his belt, but since there was no otherman in the hut, he thought it shame to murder O'Donnell as he sat, andmade up his mind to go around to the door and burst in. He saw his owngreat sword slung across the Dark Master's back, but even as he stirredto rise, O'Donnell's voice came to him, low and vibrant, so that he bodewhere he was and listened.

  "I cannot make out the figures," muttered the Dark Master, still staringdown into the bowl of dark water. "The man has the face of Yellow Brian,yet he is swart; the woman I sure never saw before. _Corp na diaoul!_What is the meaning of this? Who stands in my way?"

  Brian paused in no little astonishment, and stole a glance aside to seeold Turlough crossing himself fervently. It struck his mind that he hadchanced on some sorcery here, and, remembering the tales he had heard ofthe Dark Master's work, he laughed a little and settled down. He wasminded to see what this thing might be; but he made his pistol ready incase the magic told O'Donnell of his danger.

  "It is some great man," came the Dark Master's voice again. "There issomething broidered on his-- By my soul, it is the Red Hand of Tyr-owen!It is The O'Neill himself--the earl-- Is Yellow Brian of his blood,then?"

  At hearing this Brian crouched closer, in some fear and more wonder. Wasthe Dark Master in reality seeing such figures in that water-bowl? Thenthe man must be either mad or--or figures were there. Now O'Donnell'svoice rose stronger:

  "Which of these twain stands now in my way? It is not Yellow Brian. Ah,the earl is slipping away, and the woman is smiling. One of his loves,belike, for he had many; she is fair, wondrous fair! Ah, what's this?"

  Brian saw the dark figure crouch lower, as if in astonishment.

  "Changing, changing! Is it this woman who stands in my way, then?Toothless and grinning, crouched low over a stick, rags and tatters andwisps of gray hair--"

  The Dark Master paused in his jerky speech, stiffened as if in wildamazement at that which he beheld, and a sudden cry broke from him,sharp and awestruck:

  "The Black Woman!"

  Then Brian straightened up, feeling Turlough's hand touch his; but for aspace he stood silent while his mind cast out for what the Dark Master'swords meant.

  In a flash it came to him. Through some black dealings O'Donnell had intruth pictured The O'Neill in that bowl, and with him a woman he hadloved and who loved him; and this was no other than she whom Brian hadknown as the Black Woman, now become an old hag indeed, with only thememories of her fair youth and her love behind her. And this was why shehad recognized him and why she had evidently watched over him since thatfirst meeting, out of the love she had borne the earl, his grandsire, indays now buried under many bitter years.

  The two men looked into each other's eyes, and Brian saw that Turlough'sjaw had dropped loosely, and that fright had stricken the old man almostout of his senses. With that Brian felt his own fear take wings. Helaughed a little as his grip closed on the haft of his ax, and the coldstar-glint seemed to shine back again from his eyes.

  "Bide here if you will," he smiled quietly. "I have my work to do."

  And, turning with the word, he strode quickly to the door, just as therecame a great cry from within the place.