Nuala O'Malley Part 22

"Then you have a banner of your own, master?" Turlough squinted up slyly, for it was the first hint Brian had given him of what lay behind his nickname.

"Aye!" laughed Brian as the wine warmed him. "And it shall bear the Red Hand of Tyr-owen, old Wolf; but first to catch the Dark Master. Now let us go, for we shall ride to the Stone Mountain and see what haps there."

Upon that they rode forth from the town, and all the townfolk bade the crafty Turlough farewell, and gave him gifts for warning them against the "plunderers." Turlough looked up at the two bodies swinging in the wind as they pa.s.sed the church-tower, and put his tongue in his cheek, but Brian said no more on the subject.

That night they camped outside the town, and Brian bought all the provision that the people would sell. This he loaded on the spare horses, and the next morning they set off for the north.

Now, in that fighting by Lough Conn, Brian had taken a shrewd clip which had reopened the bullet-tear over his scalp. Added to this, he was not yet in all of his former strength, and the hard ride to Tobercurry had set his blood to heating; wherefore it was that before coming to Sligo Brian was heavy with fever and was shaken with chill. A hard snow was driving through the night, and Turlough sent most of the men around the city to wait for them on the other side the Garravogue to avoid danger.

There was no garrison in Sligo, however. The old castle which Red Hugh O'Donnell had fought over in the old days was ruined; the grand monastery, built by Brian of Tyr-erril, had been burned by Hamilton's men, together with the town itself, and Sligo was well-nigh desolate.

Turlough got shelter in a hovel, however; managed to put Brian into a miserable bed, and gave him a brew to drink. With the morning Brian found his fever gone, but weakness was on him.

They stayed in Sligo town all that day and the next night, and upon dawn, Brian insisted on riding north once more, against Turlough's protests. However, no ill came of it, for Brian was well used to riding, and the exercise gave him strength, though they made but a short march that day past the round tower of Drumcliff, halting in the hills.

As Turlough Wolf knew where the Stone Mountain was they had no use for guides. It lay only another day's march ahead of them, and there was some danger that their quarry would descry their coming and flee away to Millhaven.

"This is my rede, master;" said Turlough, "that you and I ride ahead with a few men to see how things go, and leave our men to follow. The hills are empty of rovers, for there is naught to plunder; but it were well to know if the Dark Master has joined with those friends of his."

"That seems good advice," said Brian, and, taking a dozen men, they rode forward warily, sending out other parties to scout also.

Over them towered the whiteness of the Stone Mountain, for snow lay thickly on all things. Brian gazed up at the gray-jutted crags, but his thoughts were not all with the Dark Master. Him he already accounted slain, and he was thinking of that Millhaven stronghold.

One day his own banner should fly there, he told himself. There must be a good harbor, else the northern pirates had never settled down to hold the place; and since all the country roundabout lay bleak and unsettled of men, the vision came to him of first taking the place, and then fetching O'Neills from the east and north to settle the lands around.

They would flock to him when his condition was made known, and that Cromwell's men would shatter the royalists and confederacy Brian saw clearly, as Owen Ruadh had foretold him.

Already the house of Tyr-owen was scattered and fallen, as the greater house of Tyr-connall had been before it, for when the last earl had fled from the land, there had been only the younger branch to hold the sept together. Owen Ruadh was the final glory of that branch, and now Brian entertained the vision of transplanting the Red Hand and of making his rule strong in the west.

But other men had entertained the same vision before him, and it had remained a vision, and no more; and the high hopes of Brian himself were fated to be driven upon the rocks of destiny before many days had pa.s.sed over.

With the afternoon the little party stood on the lower slopes of the Stone Mountain itself, and Turlough drew the shape of the place in the snow with his pike-haft.

"Here are we," he explained, "on the southern slopes. A half-mile ahead of us is a valley with a small and fast-rus.h.i.+ng water, where we shall make camp this night if the Dark Master be not before us. And if he is not, then he will be on the northern side, where there are two well-sheltered valleys with water running, fit for the meeting-place and camp of men. Here is the easternmost, but, as I remember it, the snow fills the valley somewhat in winter. The other holds a small lake called the Dubh Linn, or Black Tarn, and in one of these we shall find the Dark Master, unless he is here before us."

"Well, let us ride on and see to that," said Brian, and they did so.

However, they found the valley deserted and empty, and picked a place for camp, sending back a horseman to bring up the force. They could make out no smoke rising from the mountain, nor dared they light fires until after dark for fear of alarming O'Donnell; but when the force came up, Brian sent out scouts to bring in what word might be had.

"Where got you such knowledge of this wilderness?" he asked Turlough that night when the fires were blazing and the men were warmed and fed.

The old man narrowed his gray eyes and chuckled a little.

"I have been in many armies, master, though I have fought not; and I have been outlawed twice by the English, in the old days. This was always a good place to flee to."

Brian laughed and said no more. That night the men rested well, and Brian himself got sleep which sent strength into him and served him well in the days to come, for it was long before he was to sleep again, save as he rode, nodding in the saddle.

Not until nearly dawn did the last of the scouts straggle in. None of these bore any news, and all agreed that no signs could they find of any large band of men, nor of any men at all. Turlough heard their reports, letting Brian sleep, and only when the last man came in were any tidings brought. This man bore a strip of sheepskin, which, he said, an old woman had given him to bear to his master.

"A woman!" exclaimed Turlough, scanning the written words on the sheepskin, but unable to read them. "What is she like? It is a strange thing if women bide on Slieve Clochaun! Was there any stead near by?"

"None," replied the man, who trembled with something more than cold.

"_M'anam go'n Dhia!_ She was a witch woman, or worse, Turlough Wolf. She leaped out of the snow in my path, told me to bear that skin to Yellow Brian, and vanished in a burst of fire. How could she not have been a devil?"

"Nonsense!" grunted Turlough, though he suddenly laid the strip of skin down. "You are overwarm with _uisquebagh_, man. What was this woman like? Was she clad all in black?"

"Faith, I did not stop to see," grinned the man sheepishly.

Turlough stroked his beard, while the men went off to eat and sleep. He gazed at the strip of skin, and twice stretched out his hand toward it, with his eye on the fire, but each time drew back. Then he glanced around craftily, found he was alone, and took from under his cloak a small, bra.s.s crucifix. With this he touched the skin, found that nothing happened, and rose with a nod. The dawn was just breaking in the east.

"There is no sorcery in it, at least," he muttered; "but I think it bodes no great good to us. Ho, Brian!"

Brian woke and sprang up. Turlough handed him the strip of skin, saying no word, and when Brian had held it to the light of the embers, he looked up suddenly.

"Whence came this?"

"What does it say first?" returned Turlough uneasily.

"News!" cried Brian, his blue eyes aflame with eagerness. "It says that O'Donnell bides alone by the Black Tarn, and that his hors.e.m.e.n from the north are camped two miles beyond the mountain, waiting for him, and that he has made pact with the Millhaven pirates and they have left for their stronghold. Answer me--whence came this? It is written in good English writing, man!"

Then Turlough told of what had chanced, and when he had done, Brian stared into his gray eyes with a great wonder. Twice he tried to speak, but his lips were dry.

"The Black Woman!" he muttered thickly. "Can it be, Turlough? Who is she?"

"That was my thought, master," said Turlough. "Who she is none know save herself; but she deals with no good. This may be a trap; let us ride south again, and at once, lest evil come upon us."

"South? Not I," laughed Brian, though his face was pale. "To horse, men!"

And at his ringing shout the camp awoke, and Brian saw his vengeance drawing near.

CHAPTER XV.

WHAT HAPPENED AT THE TARN.

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

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

While the men were saddling, Brian called Turlough and told of the hag's word 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 she was but trying to lead you into the west; yet, for my part, I call it sorcery," and the old man crossed himself, for, like better men than himself, Turlough ascribed all he could not fathom to magic. "It seems to me that she is some witch who is hanging on your tracks, and that when--"

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