Nuala O'Malley Part 5

Brian began to love the man for his utter simplicity, save where there was killing in hand. Cathbarr seemed in reality to have the heart of a child, impulsive and pa.s.sionate to an extreme, and there was always a certain rugged power in his bearing which bespoke him a true Flaherty of the mountains. His men were like himself in this respect, and after they had fraternized with Brian's men they began to feel the same unbounded surety in Yellow Brian as Cathbarr expressed. Their axes were the usual splay-bladed affairs that their grandfathers had used under Red Hugh at the Yellow Ford, nor indeed in all his life had Brian ever seen another ax like to that of Cathbarr's.

They rode through the afternoon while a light snow fell and a keen east wind cut down from the peaks of the Twelve Pins, until the s.h.a.ggy horses slithered along with tails tucked tight beneath them. But there was good cheer in the company, for the news had spread of how Yellow Brian would have seventy men behind him that night. When the darkness began to fall, Bertragh Castle came in sight far below--a gray crag jutting up from the plain, scarped and embattled, the sea behind it and the watch-fires of men twinkling from its keep. All about lay farms and steads, and the lowing of byred cattle rose on the evening air when the snow ceased.

"Be careful not to drink or eat in that hall," warned Cathbarr blackly.

"Ill comes of it to all who accept hospitality there."

Brian nodded and rode on in silence, for there were parties of hors.e.m.e.n and pikemen down below and the blare of horns shrilled up. Evidently the riders on the hills had been seen from afar.

As they reached the lower ground Brian was aware of a band of men riding to meet them, and halted. Through the dusk came a score of armed hors.e.m.e.n, and their leader inquired their business, shouting from a safe distance. Brian returned the shout.

"I am Yellow Brian, and I seek O'Donnell Dubh according to a pact made with him yesterday. I have reduced Cathbarr of the Ax, and am come in peace."

"You are expected," called the other, riding up with his men. "The Dark Master is waiting for you."

And Brian rode on to Bertragh, not without some forebodings.

CHAPTER V.

YELLOW BRIAN RIDES SOUTH.

Outside the castle gates, where cressets flared over the snow, an old seneschal appeared and ordered Brian to leave his men outside. To this the men made some objection, but Brian laughed softly.

"Bide where you are," he said. "You shall not be slain unless I am slain inside."

The O'Donnells watched him and Cathbarr with no little wonder, and the two men made a fine pair as they marched across the creaking drawbridge.

Though Cathbarr topped Brian by half a head, there was no doubt as to which was the n.o.bler man; the giant gazed around him with amazed eyes, but Brian held his head high and strode in with a smile flickering on his lips. But his blue eyes were very sharp that night.

He saw the crowded men in the courtyard, many of them armed with muskets, their matches burning, and noted also that the Dark Master possessed some half-dozen b.a.s.t.a.r.ds--immense, nine-foot pieces mounted on huge carriages, with their eight-pound b.a.l.l.s piled beside them. In those days it was no small thing to own such cannon in the west of Ireland, and Brian eyed them approvingly as he pa.s.sed through the courtyard. He was beginning to count them as his own.

Cathbarr had told him that the Dark Master had brought many O'Donnells down from the north to settle the farms and lands beyond the castle, but Brian saw that these were not all. The garrison was a riffraff of all the armies that had wasted Ireland, and they were fighting men fit for their work.

Brian entered the hall, with Cathbarr muttering oaths a pace behind him.

The hall was high, lit with cressets, and beside a huge fireplace sat the Dark Master in a carved chair of black wood, an old harper sitting opposite. Behind Brian and Cathbarr flocked in men until the hall was well filled.

Brian found the penetrating eyes fixed on him as he advanced, but in them was no surprise or fear, and O'Donnell calmly stroked his drooping mustache as he watched. Cathbarr still followed behind, bearing that great ax of his, and Brian stopped a few paces from the hearth as the Dark Master spoke.

"Welcome to Bertragh, Yellow Brian. I had not looked for you so soon."

"No." Brian's voice rang out richly in the stillness. "But I am here, O'Donnell Dubh, to claim my two-score men. I have reduced Cathbarr of the Ax."

For the first time the hunched O'Donnell seemed to notice Cathbarr. His black eyes flickered curiously to the giant, then he smiled sourly.

"If he is reduced, why does he not kneel, Brian of the hard eyes?"

"Kneel," ordered Brian.

Cathbarr flushed and his beard began to stand out, but he obeyed. There was no great love in his face as he knelt, holding to his ax, and gazed at O'Donnell.

"Throw your ax into the fire," said the Dark Master, his voice smooth as silk.

"Do not," exclaimed Brian, and his eyes grew bitterly cold as they clinched with those of the Dark Master. Over the latter's pallid face crept a slow red fire, and his head drew back between his shoulders. Men held their breaths.

"O'Donnell," went on Brian slowly, "I have fulfilled my pact. I have reduced Cathbarr of the Ax--but he serves me and not you. Since I have conquered him as you bade, I call on you to carry out the pact and lend me two-score men for three months, scat-free."

If Brian had wanted any testimony as to O'Donnell's iron hand, he had it. His words, with all they implied, would have drawn a howl of rage from the retainers of any other chief in the land, but the men behind and around him only grew more silent.

As for the Dark Master, the red hue died slowly from his face, though his head remained drawn in, and still his eyes held those of Brian. When he spoke, it was as if he were musing aloud.

"So, Brian of the hard eyes, you have some courage, eh? _Duar na Criosd!_ Little did I ever think that a man would come to me and borrow my own men that he might make war upon me! Is this your thought, Yellow Brian?"

"You have sharp ears, Dark Master," said Brian dryly, and a chuckle pa.s.sed through the crowd. "In time I might take this castle, it is true.

Just now I have other things in mind, however, and I shall not fall upon you until there has pa.s.sed gage of battle between us."

"Thanks for so much," smiled the other slowly, though the red crept up to his cheek-bones faintly. Brian seemed perfectly at his ease, as indeed he was. "And what if I fell upon you first?"

"I am liker to offer battle than accept it, O'Donnell."

"Now, that is a good answer," said the Dark Master, while a whisper floated around the hall. "I would be glad to have you at my back, Yellow Brian, for men who ride behind me are like to win much."

Brian laughed a little.

"Some day I may be at your back, O'Donnell Dubh, and in that day I may win all that you have, from life to goods."

To his blank amazement, O'Donnell only threw out his head and chuckled; but it was an evil chuckle, and there was venom gleaming in his black eyes.

"I think that it were best for me to slay you here, Brian of the hard eyes, to slay you and this Cathbarr of the Ax. It seems to my mind that it is anything but good to turn you loose upon the land, for I hear a storm of hoofs in the air, and dead men are riding on the wind, and there is a whisper--"

He paused, drew his cloak about him, and gazed down at his foot. That pause was more dreadful than speech, for the crowded men moved not a finger, so that Brian all but thought that he and the Dark Master were alone. Then his face blanched a trifle. For, whether it were some uncanny play of mind or very truth, it seemed to him that from the wide fireplace there did indeed come a faint ring of hoofs and clash of steel; the long cressets over them suddenly flickered smokingly, though no draft crossed their faces.

Then indeed Brian knew that his fate hung upon the Dark Master's thoughts, and he drew himself up a little straighter, and his blue eyes glinted colder than any ice as his hand closed upon his sword-hilt. But at the slight motion O'Donnell looked up keenly.

"You have ridden hard, Brian. Pause and sup with me--"

"I did not come to eat or drink," said Brian sternly. "Also, I am weary of this talking. Now fulfil your pact, Dark Master, or be shamed before all your men."

"Are you for Royalist or Parliament?" asked O'Donnell, as if he had not heard.

"I am for Brian Buidh."

"Take two-score men and begone," and the other rose. To his surprise, Brian found that, despite the hunched back, O'Donnell was as tall as himself. The black eyes flamed out at him for an instant. "I will keep my honor, though I regret it later, Yellow Brian. Go, with your men.

When next we meet your head shall grin over my gates."

"Thanks for so much," retorted Brian mockingly, though he drew a swift breath of relief. "My head serves me too well to render it easily. _Slan leat_, O'Donnell!"

"_Slan leat_," repeated the Dark Master and turned his back, gazing down at the fire.