BRIAN GETS HIS SWORD AGAIN.
Brian pushed the door open, and it gave easily to his fist. Gazing
within he saw the Dark Master standing over the shattered bowl, whose
liquid flowed down toward the hearth and hissed on the embers; plainly,
the Dark Master had seen nothing good in that water, for he had
shattered the bowl with his foot, and his teeth were snarling under his
drooping mustache.
"I am come," said Brian, laughing grimly as he stood in the doorway.
O'Donnell whirled, gripping at his sword.
Now, whether there was magic on the place, as Turlough ever swore, or
whether the opening of the door had made a draft, as Brian thought more
likely, a strange thing happened.
Brian had raised his pistol in his left hand, meaning to kill the Dark
Master without pity in that first moment. Out of the hearth came a great
swirl of ashes and red embers, flying toward the door and closing around
O'Donnell; as Brian pressed the trigger the ashes smote him in a
blinding swirl, and a harsh laugh answered the roar of the pistol.
With a curse Brian cleared his eyes of the light ash and reached with
his ax at the dim figure of the Dark Master, nigh hid with ashes and
powder-smoke. From down the vale came other shots and cries, and he knew
his men had struck on that small camp lying there; but at this O'Donnell
gave him other things to think of.
That was a great fight, for Brian was little used to ax-play and had
much ado to parry the keen thrusts of his own Spanish blade; the roof
was too low to give room for a swing, and when the Dark Master had
lunged him back to the door again, he knew that he had done ill. So with
another bitter curse Brian flung the ax from his hand and ripped out the
long, Irish dagger that hung at his girdle.
For all his wrath he had taken good heed to fling the ax aright, and the
broad flat of it took the Dark Master full in the chest and bore him
back, reeling and shouting for his men. Before he could recover Brian
leaped at him, caught O'Donnell's sword wrist in his left hand, and
aimed a deadly stroke with his _skean_.
The blow went true, but the steel turned aside from the Dark Master's
mail-shirt; O'Donnell caught his wrist in turn, and there the two stood
heaving each at the other for a long minute. Brian's eyes struck cold
and hard into the evil features of the Dark Master; the other's breath
came hot on his cheeks, and so beastlike was the man's face that Brian
half expected those snarling teeth to close snapping at his throat. But
the Dark Master was strong, for all his hunched shoulders.
Then a great flame of vengeance seemed to cleave Brian's soul, and with
a curt laugh he threw out his strength and flung the Dark Master back
bodily so that he fell into the hearth and burst the mud chimney and the
thatched wall behind. Before he could rise again Brian had whipped out
his other pistol and fired; he saw the man's figure writhe aside, then
up through the powder-smoke rose a burning brand that smote him over the
brow heavily. At the same instant the scattered sparks caught the
thatch, and the whole house broke into flame.
Brian's eyes found the dark figure once more and he rushed forward. At
the broken heap of mud from the chimney his feet struck on the sword,
which had fallen from the Dark Master's hand, and he caught it up with a
cry of joy and bore forward.
That brief instant of delay lost him his quarry, however. Brian flung
through the shattered wall, with the whole structure flaming up behind
him; he saw a dark figure on the snow and ran at it, only to find
himself striking at Turlough Wolf, and stayed his hand barely in time.
"Where is he?" he panted hoarsely, looking around with fierce eyes.
Then he caught the Dark Master's figure running across the snow toward
that camp amid the trees, where fighting was still forward and men were
shouting and firing. Brian rushed off, with Turlough staggering after
him; but with a sob of despairing anger he saw the Dark Master flit into
the trees, and heard his voice ringing at his men.
It turned out afterward that Brian's fifty men, weary and chilled, had
made a somewhat heartless assault on the score of horsemen camped in the
trees; therefore, instead of carrying O'Donnell's men off their feet and
cutting them down straightway, they were held off for a little.
The Dark Master knew that he was lost if he stayed long in that place,
however, and when Brian reached the clump of trees he found that he was
too late. With two or three men behind him, O'Donnell had cut through
Brian's men and was galloping away. Brian groaned savagely, leaped at a
mounted man and dragged him from the saddle, and was just springing up
when Turlough caught and stayed him.
"Wait, master!" panted the old man in desperate fear of the surging men
around him, but in more desperate fear for Brian. "This is madness, for
I ordered our fifty horses fetched around--"
"Bide here for them, then!" said Brian, and swung up into the saddle.
One of the Dark Master's men barred his way, and Brian's blade went
through his throat; then he was off after the four figures who by now
were far distant toward the dark forest that swallowed up the valley
ahead.
The cold night air cleared his brain, however, and after a moment he
drew rein with bitterness upon him. Turlough had spoken rightly, for to
ride after those four men with his naked sword alone was in truth
madness. So he came back again to where the last of the hemmed-in
horsemen was being cut out of his saddle, and when his men gathered
about him with a shout, his tongue gave them little joy.
"You are fools," he said harshly, "for the Dark Master has escaped us.
Take these horses, fifteen of you, and ride. Let five men go to bring in
our horses with all speed, and let ten more scatter out in search of our
hundred men. These are not more than two miles distant, and in an hour I
must ride from here. See to it that you return with the men and horses
by then, or shift for yourselves."
"That is too much," spoke out a burly fellow angrily. "We have been
climbing all day, and have----"
Brian said no word, but leaned down from his saddle and his Spanish
blade flickered in the light. The man fell and lay quiet, while the
others drew back in black fear.
"I am master here," said Brian coldly, when a long instant had passed.
"Go."
There was no more muttering among his recruits, either then or later. He
dismounted, saw that the O'Donnells had been slain to the last man, and
joined Turlough at the campfire. Food and drink had been found in the
camp, and a flagon of wine heartened Brian greatly.
"Now give me your rede, Turlough Wolf," he said. "I have failed in this
matter, and it seems that ill shall come of it."
"So I foretold, master, but we may still remedy the ill if we catch
O'Donnell. I think that by now his horsemen are scattered, and this
burning hut will draw our own men thither. Before midnight they will be
here, and we can ride forth. I think that the Dark Master will gather
what men are left him and strike down for Galway."
"Two men may ride the same road," quoth Brian grimly, and set his naked
blade in his belt. He saw that before him lay some fighting and much
hard riding, so inside the next hour he had his men full-fed. Before
this was finished the spare horses and those of his men came in, for
Turlough had ordered them to start at noon and ride around in case of
need.
Brian determined to spare neither men nor horseflesh on that riding, and
when his men were mounted he set out across the night to meet his
hundred, and to hear what had been done at the camp two miles distant.
As the moon was rising he met them; and if he was glad at the meeting,
they were twice glad.
They had found the camp and had lain off it until after dark as
Turlough had bidden them, the more so since there were two-score over a
hundred men there. But at length they had ridden down as if they were
fresh come from the north, and had twice ridden through the camp before
the O'Donnells were well awake, though it had been sharp work. The
result had been that a score of Brian's men had fallen, they had slain a
full half of the O'Donnells, and the rest had been driven and scattered
southward. Brian's men had plundered their camp and were weary, so that
when they heard of what had chanced at the Black Tarn they were somewhat
less than half willing to ride farther.
But Brian speedily persuaded them to that course, and Turlough led them
all to the south on the way to Sligo.
Bitterness and heaviness of heart dwelt deep in Brian that night, and
for some time to come. With the escape of the Dark Master, whether it
had been by magic or craft, all his visions had burst; he must ride away
from the pirate hold at Millhaven, he saw that he would lose many men on
his way south, and yet there lay no choice before him. He had scotched
the snake, and now he must kill it. If the Dark Master reached Galway
town in safety, those O'Donnells from Millhaven would be around by sea
to meet him, and the royalists would lend him men and guns to go against
Bertragh in their cause.
"Is there any likelihood that the Dark Master will miss those scattered
men of his?" he asked Turlough, who rode on his right hand.
"Little, master. There is but the one road south to Sligo at this
season, and it is great wonder indeed that the scattered men did not
fall on us at the Black Tarn in seeking their master. But with only
seventy-five men or so I do not think they will bide our coming."
"Nor do I," and Brian laughed grimly as he thought of that fight with
his enemy.
Certain men had been wounded in those frays, and he left them to follow
after him, so that he turned south with a hundred and a score men at his
back. He did not think that the Dark Master would face him, but since
those men were all O'Donnells who would obey him utterly, he looked to
have some fighting; in which he was not far wrong.
An hour after the day was broken they thundered up to the bridge that
spanned the Garravogue, and ten wild and silent men were holding that
bridge behind an overturned cart for barricade. Brian would waste no men
on a storm, but slew six of the men with musketry and rode over the
other four; even so, those four brought down three of his men before
they were done with.
Brian baited the horses in Sligo, remaining there a scant half-hour.
From the townfolk he learned that the Dark Master was but two hours
ahead of him, and Brian had great hopes of running him to earth that
same day. So he set forth again and they rode hard to Ballsadare, at the
south branch of Sligo Bay, and on to Coolany at the edge of the Storm
Mountains.
At this latter place they found different work, however, for here was a
small garrison of Cavan pikemen who stopped them, lined with their pikes
three deep across the road before the church. Brian was no long time in
learning that the Dark Master had spread word of him as a plunderer and
Parliament man.
"I have no time to waste on you," he said shortly to the leader of the
pikemen. "Here is a safe-conduct, and I am Stephen Burke."
"None the less, you must stay until I have looked into this," said the
other, pulling out his pistol with some determination.
"Stay I will not, but I think you shall," replied Brian, and thrust as
the man fired. The bullet glanced from his jack, but the officer fell
back among his pikes, and Brian spurred after him in great anger. His
Scots troopers were in the van, or what was left of them, and they came
down galloping, and rode over the pikemen leaving a sea of smitten men
in the roadway behind.
Also, ten of Brian's men were left.
By the evening they were back at Tobercurry again, where Turlough had
hung those two men after torturing them. The Dark Master was something
over an hour ahead of them, and he had stayed to fire the church and the
town. Brian's heart was sore for the townfolk, but he could pause no
longer than to bait horses and men, since he looked for hard riding that
night; however, he gave what money and plunder he had to the townfolk
and got a blessing in return, and so rode forth again as the stars
peeped out.
"There are Maguires in Swineford, master," said old Turlough with a
cunning, sidelong look.
"I met them coming north," laughed Brian softly. "They will prove good
men to avoid, so I think that we shall ride around that burg."
Brian thought that he could get through the Maguires, but he intended to
take no chances. However, they had gained to within five miles of
Swineford and had halted to blow the horses, when one of the scouts came
riding back to say that a score of farmers with three carts were
approaching from the town.
Presently they came on them--a black mass swinging down the road, which
was very boggy on either hand. Neither Brian nor Turlough smelt any ill
in this until they were within a hundred paces of the party, when
suddenly the carts were swung across the road and a score of muskets
spat death into Brian's men.
"Back!" shouted Brian, when his men would have charged. "We have no time
and lives to waste on this party--what shall we do, Turlough? The fields
are all bog."
"We cannot well ride around," said Turlough, when they had ridden back a
little, leaving dead men on the road. "But a little way back is a path
that leads out and around Swineford. Put ten men here to keep these
O'Donnells from following us, and we will make a short cut to the Moy
near Kiltanmugh. It was a clever trick, this!"
It was indeed, and it had cost Brian a round score of men, so that he
followed Turlough out into the open land with less than a hundred men
behind him. His fury abated before dawn, when they had splashed across
the Moy and came upon the road once more, but he saw that the O'Donnells
were willing enough to die if the Dark Master might escape, and he
became more cautious.
When the night fell again they were far south of Claremorris, but a
score of horses had foundered and he was forced to leave more men
behind. Until evening Turlough led him at a distance from the main
roads, then they struck into good riding again and save for one detour
to avoid Tuam would have a clear road between themselves and Galway,
which Brian meant to reach before dawn unless his own horse foundered
with the rest.
Of the Dark Master they heard nothing until they were fording the Clare
north of Tuam, when two men gave them word that a scant half-hour before
some two-score horsemen had fled past them toward Tuam.
"Good!" cried Brian. "Now, Turlough, lead us around Tuam, and I think we
shall finish this thing long before the day comes."
Said Turlough sourly, "Every horse down is a man gone, master," but to
that Brian only laughed and set in his spurs.
So now they let gallop through the darkness, trusting more to Turlough's
wits than to their horses' feet; for Brian knew that if his own beasts
were spent, those of the Dark Master were no better unless he were to
get mounts at Tuam. That would be hard, however, for there were no
horses to be had save far in the mountains where the war had not swept
all things away.
No sooner had they reached the road again beyond Tuam than it seemed to
Brian that he heard the faint drum of hoofs ahead of him, and at that he
gave a shout and drove on with such of his men storming behind as might
come. Many of them had gone down, indeed, but now all wakened from their
nodding sleep and kept close, though here and there one dropped out.
Turlough, whose steed had been the best of all save Brian's, kept at his
master's flank.
They were hard on Claregalway when Brian saw his quarry first--a deep
mass of men far ahead on an open stretch of road. Then he knew that the
race was nearly won, and for all that his beast was sobbing under his
thighs, he raced ahead, and laughed out loud when a little band cut off
from the main body of the Dark Master's men. There were fifteen or less
who waited his coming with pistols ready, but Brian rode hardily at
them, their balls whistled overhead or past, and he was on them.
The shock of the meeting came near to unseating him, and sent one of the
foe sprawling, horse and man; Brian cut another to the chin and thrust
the life from a third, and before the first sword had slithered on his
steel-cap his men had swept aside the devoted fifteen, and he was riding
on. O'Donnell had straightened his party for nothing.
Now the Dark Master was riding for his life, and knew it. Some few of
his men fell out with spent beasts, and these Brian's party rode over,
taking and giving but one blow, or none at all. When Claregalway drew up
ahead, cold and gray under the stars, Brian was but two hundred yards
behind with forty men still behind him, while O'Donnell had not half so
many.
As he thundered down to the river Brian had drawn as much ahead of
Turlough and the others as he was behind the Dark Master. He shouted
back to those of his men whose matches were lit to loose off their
muskets, but before the first pan had flashed out he saw the O'Donnells
draw rein and wheel at the bridge-head, while two of their number drove
clattering on into the town.
Now, had Brian chosen to wait for his men things would have fallen out
differently; but this he would not do, for he thought to break through
these as he had done with the others. So he went at them with naked
sword, his heart raging within him and his face set and cold like stone.
He was still fifty paces from the bridge-head when their pistols
spattered out; the men behind dared not fire for fear of hitting him, so
that Brian had all the fight for himself.
He came near to having none, for at that first discharge a pistol-ball
split his jack and lodged in his buff-coat over his heart, while another
came between his arm and his side, drawing blood a little from both;
while a third and worse went into his horse between the fore shoulders.
Brian felt the poor beast falter shudderingly, and pause; then the
O'Donnells shouted greatly and closed about him, thinking to slay him
before his men could come up.
Brian saw a long _skean_ plunge into his horse's neck, and in terrible
anger he smote with the edge, so that a hand and arm hung down from the
dagger, a ghastly thing to see. But the poor steed was dead with that
blow, and Brian had but time to fling himself headlong ere the horse
rolled over.
The leap saved his life, for the O'Donnells were striking fast at him.
Brian rose up between two of them, dragged one down with his left hand
and thrust the other under the arm, and tried to leap up into the
saddle. But as he did so his own men struck, so that the horses were
swept together and pinned Brian's legs between them, and he hung
helpless.
In that instant he saw an ax swinging above him and flung back his head,
but not enough, for the ax fell, and Brian went down under the horses.
Save for three of his men who saw the thing and stood over him, Brian
would have been trampled to death on the spot. These O'Donnells were no
loose fighting-men, and they smote shrewdly against the press of
Brian's greater numbers, while their wild cry rose high over the shrill
of steel. When Brian's men knew that he was down, however, they struck
such blows as they knew not they had in them, and quarter was not asked
or offered in that battle by the bridge.
The fight was not ended until the last O'Donnell went down in a swirl
and clash of steel. Then Turlough, who had kept well out of it according
to his wont, pushed through and fell upon Brian's body. When Brian
opened his eyes his head was still ringing, while his men were bathing
him with water. After an instant he sat up and gazed around.
"The Dark Master--did you catch him?"
"Nay, our thought was all for you, master," answered Turlough.
Brian groaned in great bitterness, but said no word. He knew that his
chance was gone from him for that time, and as he looked around his
heart sank within him. Half of his men had slipped down and lay sleeping
among the dead, and the rest could scarce stay in their saddles for
weariness and lack of sleep. But Turlough sprang up and gazed at the
graying sky with fear in his face.
"Up, master!" he cried fiercely. "We must still ride hard, for the Dark
Master will send out a troop of horse from Galway to catch us, and we
must get past that town before the sun is high!"
So the sleeping were roused in haste, the wounded were put in saddle,
and with their beasts staggering under them, those that were left of
Brian's men closed around him and rode over the bridge through
Claregalway.