THE BAITING OF CATHBARR.
The bearded giant still wore the long mail-shirt that reached to his
knees, and he paused at the doorway with his eyes roving about the hall.
Well did Brian know whom he sought, but it was vain, for Cathbarr could
not see him where he lay.
Then Brian saw that the ax had been changed, and wondered at it. One of
the long, back-curving blades had been rubbed down with files, so that
it was very tapering and thin like an ordinary ax-blade, while the other
was still the blunt, heavy thing it had always been. Brian read the
cunning of Turlough Wolf in that handiwork, and in fact the great ax was
thus rendered tenfold more deadly.
The Dark Master waited quietly until Cathbarr began a slow advance up
the hall, all eyes fixed on him in no little wonder. Then O'Donnell
raised a hand, stopping him.
"Let us have your message, Cathbarr."
The giant halted and dropped the ax-head, leaning on the haft of the
weapon. He took his time about replying, however, and his eyes still
roved about the hall ceaselessly and uneasily. Then of a sudden he gave
over the search, and gazed straight at the Dark Master with a swift
word:
"Have you slain him?"
"Slain who, Cathbarr?" queried O'Donnell, with a thin smile.
"_Duar na Criosd!_" bellowed Cathbarr with sudden fury. "Who but my
friend Brian?"
"Oh!" The Dark Master laughed and eased back in his chair. "No, he's
still alive, Cathbarr? Is your message from the Bird Daughter in his
regard?"
"Yes." Cathbarr fought for self-control, the breast of his mail shirt
rising and falling, his bloodshot eyes beginning to circle about the
place once more in a helpless and angry wonder.
"O'Donnell Dubh," he went on at last, "Nuala O'Malley sends you this
word. Give Brian Buidh over to her, and she will pay you what ransom you
demand."
"What alliance is there between Brian and her?" asked O'Donnell softly.
"Brian has given her service, and I have," Cathbarr flung up his head.
"Our men lie in Gorumna Castle, there are ships coming from Erris and
the isles, and if Brian be slain we shall bear on this hold and give no
quarter. We have four hundred men now, and five ships are coming from
the North."
The Dark Master gazed quietly at the giant, Vere taking no part in the
talk. But Brian, watching also, saw that which brought a mocking smile
to O'Donnell's pallid face. Cathbarr had no fear of any man, and lies
did not come easily to his lips; when he spoke of the force lying in
Gorumna, and of help from Erris, his face gave him away. Brian saw
Turlough behind that tale, but Cathbarr was no man to carry it off with
success.
"Well," laughed the Dark Master, "none the less shall Brian be slain.
Carry back that word to Nuala O'Malley."
Cathbarr's mighty chest heaved like a barrel near to bursting. Brian was
minded to break his promise, but Murrough's pistol was at his head, and
he could but lie quietly and watch. The giant's face flushed somewhat.
"I have not finished," said he. "My business for the Bird Daughter is
done in truth, but now I have to speak a word of my own."
"Let us hear it," returned O'Donnell.
"It is this." Cathbarr drew himself up. "I am more your enemy than is
Brian. Let him go, O'Donnell Dubh, and take me in his place, for I love
him."
A sudden amazed silence fell on every man there, and but for Murrough's
warning hand Brian would have sat up. O'Donnell's jaw fell for an
instant, then his head drew in between his shoulders, he put a hand to
Vere's arm, and whispered something. The royalist nodded, a grin on his
coarse face, and the Dark Master settled back easily. Cathbarr still
stood waiting, the ax held out before him, and a glory in his wide eyes.
"I would sooner hold you than Brian," and O'Donnell spoke softly. "If
you will to take his place and die in his stead, Cathbarr, then loose
that ax of yours."
Brian saw that Cathbarr was lost indeed, for the Dark Master was not
likely to give over his pact with the royalists so easily. Cathbarr
heaved up his ax with a great laugh, like a child; he brought it down on
the stones, but if he had meant to break it the effort was vain. The
huge weapon clanged down and bounded high out of his two hands, so that
men drew back in awe; but the ax whirled twice in the cresset-light,
then fell and slithered over the flagging beneath a table, and no man
touched it.
"Take me," said Cathbarr simply.
"Nay," answered the Dark Master calmly, though his eyes flamed, "kneel
down."
Cathbarr stood breathing heavily for an instant, then slowly obeyed.
Brian saw that his curly beard was beginning to stand out from his face,
but no word came from him as he went to his knees.
"Now," went on the Dark Master, "pray me for Brian's life, mighty one."
The giant struggled with himself, for humiliation came hard to him. Then
his voice fell curiously low, terrible in its self-restraint.
"I pray you for the life of Yellow Brian, O'Donnell."
Brian forced himself up, thinking to cry out a warning before it was too
late; but Murrough's hand closed over his mouth and forced him back
relentlessly.
"Bring ropes," said the Dark Master, and ordered Cathbarr to his feet.
Men hastened out, and returned with a length of rope, binding the
giant's arms behind his back, from elbow to wrist. Then the Dark Master
laughed harshly, but Vere leaned toward him, his face troubled.
"Do not carry this thing farther, O'Donnell," said the royalist
hoarsely. "This man is a fool, but he has a great heart. Let be."
For answer the Dark Master whirled on him with such fury in his snarl
that Vere drew back hastily, and no more words passed between them at
that time. O'Donnell rose and walked down the hall toward Cathbarr, in
his hand a little switch that he used upon that wolfhound of his.
"Now," he said softly, yet his voice pierced hard through the dead
stillness, "in token that your humility in this affair is without guile,
Cathbarr of the Ax, bow your head to me."
The giant obeyed, closing his eyes. The Dark Master lifted his hand and
cut him twice across the head with his switch, while Brian gasped in
amazement and looked for Cathbarr to strike out with his foot. But
although the giant shuddered, he made no move, and the Dark Master
strode back to his seat with a laugh. Then Cathbarr raised his face, and
Brian saw that it was terribly convulsed.
"Do with me as you wish," he said, still in that low voice. "But now let
Brian be freed in my presence."
The Dark Master flung back his head in a laugh, and when the men saw his
jest, a great howl of derision rang up to the rafters. Only Vere's
officers looked on with black faces, for it was plain that this affair
was none of their liking. A look of simple wonder came into Cathbarr's
wide-set eyes.
"Why do you not loose him?" he asked quietly.
"Fetch the man out, Murrough," ordered the Dark Master. "Shoot him if he
speaks."
Now, whether through some shred of mercy--for he knew well that Brian
would cry out--or for some other reason, Murrough leaned down swiftly to
Brian's ear.
"Careful," he whispered as he motioned his men forward. "Play the part,
and mind that this thing is not yet finished."
The warning came in good time, and cooled Brian's raging impulse. He was
lifted from behind the table, his chains clanking, and laid upon it;
Cathbarr gave a great start and bellowed out one furious word:
"Dead!"
"Nay," smiled the Dark Master. "His eyes are open, and he is but weak
with his wounds, Cathbarr. Now say--would you sooner that we cut off
that right hand of his, or blinded him? One of these things I shall do
before I loose him, for I said only that I would take your life for
his."
Brian saw that the Dark Master was only playing with the giant, for well
he knew that Vere wanted to take him back to Galway whole and sound. But
Cathbarr knew nothing of this, and as the whole terrible trickery
flashed over his simple mind he lifted a face that was dark with blood
and passion.
"Do not play with me!" he cried out, his voice deep and angry. "Loose
him!"
Then O'Donnell leaned back in his chair, laughing with his men, and
waved a careless hand toward Vere.
"He is not mine," he grinned. "I have given him to the royalists, for
hanging at Galway. You, however, are now mine to slay."
Whether the Dark Master indeed meant to break his plighted faith, Brian
never knew. Cathbarr took a single step forward, his curly beard
writhing and standing out, and his whole face so terrible to look on
that all laughter was stricken dead in the hall.
"You lied to me!" he cried hoarsely. "You lied to me!"
O'Donnell laughed.
"Aye, Cathbarr. Your master goes back to Galway to be hung--he is out of
my hands, but you are in them. However, since I have passed my word on
your safe-conduct, I think that I may hold to it."
But the giant had not heard him. Throwing back his head, he gave one
deep groan of anguish, and his shoulders began to move very slowly as
his chest heaved up. All the while his eyes were fixed on the Dark
Master, while the whole hall watched him in awe; not even Brian or
O'Donnell himself guessed what that slow movement of Cathbarr's body
boded.
"Best put chains upon him, Murrough," said the Dark Master, his teeth
shining under his drooping mustache.
Vere cried out in sudden wonder.
"'Fore Gad! Look!"
Then indeed the Dark Master looked, and sprang to his feet, and one
great shout of alarm and fear shrilled up from those watching. For as
Cathbarr stood there, the veins had suddenly come out on his face and
neck, and with a dull sound the ropes had broken on his arms, and he was
free.
Murrough rushed forward, and his pistol spat fire. Cathbarr, with his
eyes still on the Dark Master, put out a hand and Murrough went whirling
away with a dull groan. Then the giant rushed.
O'Donnell did not stay for that meeting, but slipped away like a shadow
into his surging men, yelling at them to fire. There were few muskets in
the hall, however, and an instant later Cathbarr had reached the table
where Vere still sat astounded. He brought down a fist on the royalist's
steel cap, and Vere coughed horribly and fell out of his chair with his
skull crushed.
Now a musket roared out, and another. But Cathbarr caught up the oaken
table and faced around on the men who were surging forward at him;
lifting the ten-foot table as though it were paper, he bellowed
something and rushed at them, casting the table in a great heave. It
fell squarely on the front rank, and then indeed fear came upon the
hall. For Cathbarr's foot had struck against his ax, and he rose with it
in his hand.
There was a din of screams and shouts, for half the men were struggling
to get out of the hall and the rest were rushing to get at Cathbarr.
Another musket crashed, and in the smoke Brian saw the giant stagger,
recover, and go bellowing into the crowd.
Brian struggled from the table, groaned with pain, and then stood
watching. He could walk, but his weakness and the chains on his wrists
and ankles hindered him from being of any advantage to Cathbarr, though
he lifted his voice in a shout of encouragement.
Cathbarr heard the shout, and roared out with delight. A musket-ball had
cut across his forehead, and with the blood dripping from his beard he
looked more like a demon than a man. The huge ax flashed in the smoky
light, and before it men groaned and shrieked and gave back; it cleaved
steel and flesh, or smashed helms and heads together, and the Dark
Master had slipped from the place, so that his men had no leader.
Over the roar of fear-mad men, over the storm of shrieks and shouts,
over the dust and smoke, rose the mighty bellow of Cathbarr and the
thudding blows of his ax. The royalist officers were fighting around the
doorway, while O'Donnell's men were trying to make head against the
giant, but he swept through them like a whirlwind, awing them more by
his ferocious aspect and his mad rage than by the half-seen effect of
his terrific strength.
Little by little they eddied out from the door. Men lay all about,
tables were overturned, and through the crowd swirled the terrible ax,
leaving a path of dead in its wake. Brian staggered to the motionless
form of Colonel Vere, and reaching down drew a pistol from the dead
man's belt. His strength was flooding back to him, and in spite of the
agony caused by every movement, he clanked slowly down toward the door.
At sight of his chained and bandage-swathed figure a wild shriek welled
up, and when he laughed and fired into the midst of them all opposition
ceased.
Cathbarr still sought the Dark Master, raging back and forth, smiting
and smiting with never a pause in the flaillike sweep of his long arms.
He saw Brian standing there, and emitted a wild bellow of joy, but never
ceased from his smiting. Out through the door poured a stream of
maddened figures, for blind panic had come on every man there, and
Cathbarr's was not the only weapon that drew blood as the men fought for
exit.
Brian laughed again, for now he knew that he would die in no long time,
but it would not be under the torturers. Cathbarr cleared the hall, sent
the last man flying out with an arm lopped from him, and swung to the
huge doors after kicking two or three bodies from his way. When the beam
had dropped into place and they were alone with the dead and dying, he
turned to Brian and flung out his arms.
"Careful!" exclaimed Brian, seizing his hand. "None of your bear-hugs,
old friend," and he swiftly told of his tortures. Tears ran down the
giant's blood-strewn face as he listened, and with the tenderness of a
woman he picked up Brian and carried him back to a table, setting him on
it.
"First for these chains, brother," he cried, going back for his ax. "We
may yet win out against these devils."
"Small chance," smiled Brian grimly. "I cannot swing a blade, and we
cannot hold this hall for long. Besides, you have some wounds."
Cathbarr roared out a laugh, exuberantly as a boy, and carefully spread
Brian's legs open on the table.
"Hold quiet!" he cautioned, and swung up the ax. Down it flashed, the
thinner blade sheared through the chain an inch from Brian's ankle and
split the oak beneath, and Cathbarr drew back for a second blow.
Four times he struck, and the blows smote off the chains from each wrist
and ankle, although the locked rings still remained. But Brian was free,
and when he gained his feet he found the exercise had somewhat loosened
his muscles, and he picked up a sword.
"We can at least die fighting, Cathbarr," he said, and looked into the
giant's eyes. "And, brother, I thank you."
"Nonsense!" blurted out Cathbarr, wiping the blood from his eyes and
grinning through his beard. "Turlough Wolf has our men hidden around
this royalist camp, and the Bird Daughter has a boat outside the castle.
We cannot get through the royalists, but there is a chance that we can
get to the shore. Besides, she has ships and men coming from her kinsmen
in the North. Now, how shall we get away?"
Brian shook his head. "I can hardly walk, Cathbarr, to say nothing of
swimming or fighting. There is a rear door out of the hall, yonder, but
no use trying it."
"Perchance I have still some strength," grinned Cathbarr, picking up his
ax. "Let us have a look at that rear door, before they come at us with
muskets."