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 nobler 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 bastards--immense, nine-foot pieces mounted on
huge carriages, with their eight-pound balls 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 passed 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
passed 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 passed 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.
Brian turned and strode down the hall, Cathbarr at his heels. When they
reached the courtyard he found men saddling in haste, and an officer
saluted him gravely.
"Two-score men are at your orders, Yellow Brian."
"Let them follow me," said Brian curtly. "And who quarrels with my men,
dies."
To that there was no dispute. The drawbridge clanked down once more,
Brian and Cathbarr mounted and rode out to where the thirty waited
grimly, and after them came the forty men from the garrison. Cathbarr,
who trusted the Dark Master little, set his ten axmen in the van,
followed with Brian, and the sixty followed them into the night.
"I think we came out of that well, brother," said the giant softly.
"Where do we ride?"
"To your tower, for the night. After that, in search of more men."
"Toward Galway or Slyne Head?"
"Wherever there are men."
After that they rode on in silence, while the men behind fraternized
freely. All were of the same stamp, and indeed the two-score already
were as willing to serve Brian as O'Donnell, since they had witnessed
that scene in the castle hall.
Brian wondered dully what the outcome of all this was to be. The strain
of facing O'Donnell and bearding him in his own den had been no light
one, but he knew that Cathbarr had spoken truth in saying that they were
well out of it. The Dark Master, he thought, was a man well worth
fighting. To take his castle was not like turning out a chieftain of
some ancient family, with his clan about him for miles around; O'Donnell
had seized upon the place himself, his men were reavers and outlaws, and
the castle was a strong one.
Then there was the O'Malley alliance. Brian had it in mind to beset the
Dark Master by sea and land at once, for all the O'Malley clan had been
seamen and rovers from time immemorial, while he himself preferred men
and horses at his back. In calmer mood now, he reflected that Turlough
might not return for a week, and there was food and fodder for seventy
men and horses to be obtained.
If he rode toward Galway he would have to plunder the patriots, which
went against the grain. But in lower Galway and Clare things were
different. That winter no army held to winter quarters save that of
Cromwell, and between Limerick and Galway there was a wild rout of men
out of half a dozen armies, the plague had swept off all but the
seafaring folk, and men held only what their swords could guard.
So Brian determined that he would ride toward the south.
He realized well that his men must be drawn together by fighting, that
they must learn a perfect confidence in him, and that they must earn
their sustenance for the time being. Cathbarr already knew of old
Turlough's mission, and of course approved, since in his eyes Brian
could do no wrong. What was more, reflected Brian, he could not make
this alliance empty-handed. He must get men and spare horses, stores and
powder, and some muskets or pistols if possible, for few of his men
carried more than sword or perhaps a sorry pistolet or ancient
bombardule out of date a generation since.
"A storm of men!" he muttered as he gazed at the stars. "A storm of men!
Did that Black Woman speak truly, I wonder? And what dark magic was that
which passed to-night?"
But no answer came to his questions save that the cold stars chilled him
to the bone. Since they had no better place to seek, they returned to
Cathbarr's tower, but it was long past midnight when they reached it,
and the men were nodding in their saddles. As barely a dozen could crowd
into the place, the rest were forced to camp outside in the snow, but
roaring fires and some little food put them in good humor and it was no
hardship to any of them.
"It has been a strange two days for us twain," said Brian as he and
Cathbarr divided a scorched bannock one of the Scots had hastily turned
out over the coals.
"Yes," smiled the giant into his beard, his deep-throated bull's voice
rumbling through their tiny room. "But it is in my mind that there are
stranger days ahead of us, Brian Buidh. A witch-woman once told me that
I would meet my death from water and fire together, brother, in a cause
not mine own."
"You are not bound to my service," replied Brian.
"But I am bound to you, for I like you," answered Cathbarr, and his hand
crushed down on Brian's. That night they slept together beneath the same
blanket, and though after that they spoke few words of love or
friendship, the two men drew ever closer each to the other in all
things.
It had indeed been a strange two days for him, thought Brian as he
roused up the camp late the next morning and set out sentries in the
hills. He had met the Dark Master on the first, and on the second he had
met Cathbarr, then had forced the Dark Master into lending him men
against his will. Now, after a scant three days beyond Lough Corrib, he
had twined his fate with that of other men, had set his heart upon
winning Bertragh Castle, and had won both a stout friend and a stout
enemy.
For he counted O'Donnell as a foe, in which he was not far wrong.
However, there was no time to be wasted, for fodder was exceeding
scanty, and Brian himself had no heart for idleness. As he had resolved
on his course during that return ride the night before, he gathered his
men together and briefly ordered them to be ready to ride at noon, and
to Cathbarr alone he outlined his plan. Then he picked two of the axmen
who knew the country roundabout, and ten from among those O'Donnell had
loaned him, and took them aside and told them of Turlough Wolf, who
would come before long.
"You will bide here," he concluded, "and bid him wait for me. I shall
return this side of ten days. And mind you, if there is feud or
treachery among you so that one man's blood is let, then I will exact a
tenfold vengeance from both men."
The twelve, who were sturdy ruffians and well able to hold the place
against any sudden attack by the Dark Master, looked into the ice-blue
eyes for an instant, and straightway vowed that there would be neither
treachery nor quarreling among them. And Brian guessed shrewdly that he
had inspired some little fear in their hearts.
So that at high noon they rode away to the east, threescore strong, with
Brian and Cathbarr and the remaining eight axmen in the van. Brian did
not spare either man or horse that day, for there was little food left
them; when midnight came they had slipped past Galway and were ready to
ride south, though they all went to rest supperless.
With the morning Brian found that two of the men had slipped off and
were busy plundering a hill-farm a mile away, where an old woman lived
alone. He promptly had them brought before him, and bade them take up
their weapons.
"I am no executioner," he said as he bared his huge sword. "I am a
teacher of lessons, and my lessons must be learned."
When they rode away from that place, leaving the two men buried under
cairns, Brian was well assured that there would be no more ravaging by
his men, though they died of hunger.
However, it proved that there was no great chance of this, for Brian
drove such a storm past Slieve Aughty as had not been heard of in
generations. Of all that chanced in those seven days ere he set his face
to the north again, not much has survived, for there were greater storms
to come afterward, and more talked-of fighting. But certain things were
done which had a sequel.
By the fifth day Brian had swept past Gort toward Lough Graney, and
turned west by Crusheen, which he passed through with a hundred horsemen
at his heels. Two days before he had struck upon fifty Ulstermen who
were working north from Munster, and what were left of them after the
meeting took service with him. From them he learned that O'Neill was
dying or dead, and that the Royalists and Confederacy men were paralyzed
through the south.
They had left Crusheen ten miles behind them on the fifth day, when
Cathbarr laid his hand on Brian's knee and pointed to the left, where a
hill rose against the sky.
"Look there, _boucal_--when the birds fly from the _ceanabhan_, seek for
snakes!"
Brian drew rein. Gazing at the long slopes of moor-grass that rose
across the hill, he saw a sudden flight of blackbirds from over the
crest; they flew toward him, then swerved swiftly and darted to the
right. Brian called up two of his men who knew the country, and asked
them what lay over the hill.
"The Ennis road to Mal Bay," they replied, and he sent them ahead to
scout.
Before he reached the hill-crest they were back with word that an
"army" was on the road, and Brian pushed forward with Cathbarr to see
for himself. Slipping from their horses, they gained the hilltop and
looked over on the winding road beyond. Neither of them spoke, but
Brian's eyes glinted suddenly, for he beheld a train of four wagons
convoyed by some two hundred troopers. He touched Cathbarr and they
returned.
"A party of Ormond's Scottish troopers," he said quietly when they had
rejoined the men. "Cathbarr, take thirty men and work around them. When
you strike, I will lead over the hill and flank them."
The giant nodded, picked his men, and rode away. Brian led his seventy
closer to the rise of ground, and as they waited they could hear the
creaking of wagons and the snap of whips. It was a Royalist convoy, and
since there was no love between the Scots and the Irish of any party,
Brian's men were hungry for the fight.
They got their fill that day.
A rippling shout, a scattering of shots, and Brian spurred forward. The
road wound a hundred yards below, and Cathbarr had already fallen on the
vanguard. The Scots were riding forward to whelm him when Brian's men
drove down with a wild yell and smote the length of their flank.
Brian hewed his way to the side of Cathbarr, and then the sword and ax
flashed side by side. The captain in command of the troopers pistoled
Cathbarr's horse, but the huge ax met his steel cap and Cathbarr was
mounted again. Meanwhile, Brian was engaged with a cornet who had great
skill at fencing, and his huge Spanish blade touched the young officer
lightly until the Scot pulled forth a pistol, and at that Brian smote
with the edge.
The muskets and pistols of the troopers worked sad havoc among Brian's
men at first, but there was no chance to reload, and when the officers
had gone down the Scots lost heart. They would have trusted to no Gaelic
oaths, for men got no quarter in the west, but when Brian shouted at
them in English they listened to him right willingly. A score broke away
and galloped breakneck for the south again, and perhaps fifty had gone
down; the rest gathered about the wagons stared at Brian and Cathbarr in
superstitious awe as the two lowered bloody ax and sword and offered
terms.
"I offer service to you," said Brian. "I am Brian Buidh, and if you will
ride with me you shall find war. Those who wish may return to Ennis."
Now, at the most Brian had some seventy-five men left, and those
clustered at the wagons were over a hundred and a score, with muskets.
But their officers were down, they had received no pay for a year and
more, and they were for the most part Macdonalds of the Isles, who loved
freebooting better than army work. So out of them all only ten men chose
to ride to Ennis again, and Cathbarr shook his head as they departed.
"It seems to me that ill shall come of this," he said, and wiped his ax
clean.
Brian laughed shortly and dismounted. He found that the wagons contained
powder, stores, and muskets; so after placing the wounded in them, he
rode north to Corrofin that day with close to two hundred men at his
back. Staying that night at Corrofin, he hanged ten of the Scots for
plundering, rested his horses for two days, and set his face homeward
with the surety that his men knew him for master.
The storm of men was gathering fast.