BRIAN YIELDS BERTRAGH.
"I dare not trust birds alone in this strait, Cathbarr. Go to that
galley with the two O'Malleys and hasten to Gorumna. Bid the Bird
Daughter stay and wait further word from me; but take those hundred men
of mine with her galleys, and hasten back. If the beacon on the tower is
burning, I will be here; if not, and if I can make terms, I will meet
you at that tower of yours. Now hasten!"
"But--"
"For God's love go, or my heart will burst!"
Brian sank down on the horse-stone with a groan, and Cathbarr, catching
up his ax, fled through the open gates and was gone into the night.
Brian gazed up after him, and on the hills he saw that dim beacon-fire
heralding the Dark Master.
The six men guarding the galley, two of them being O'Malleys, and three
men who had watched on the tower, were all that remained alive in
Bertragh besides Turlough and Brian. The men had drunk deep of that
poisoned wine; when Con Teague and his men tried to get away after a few
had died, they were slain. But so swift was the poison that only one of
the O'Malleys had lived to reach Brian.
The fires still burned brightly, and before some of them meat was
burning. Sitting in blank despair on a horse-block, Brian saw the dead
bodies of a few less than a hundred men lying there. Turlough Wolf and
his six gave over trying to put life into any of them, and now the old
man came and put his hand on Brian's shoulder.
"Where has Cathbarr of the Ax gone, master?"
Brian told him dully, and Turlough nodded approval, having at length
learned all the story of how that galley had been taken.
"Master, there was deep cunning in this. O'Donnell sent that galley to
you, or, rather, to the Bird Daughter, and he had spies watching. Had
the Gorumna men drunk of that brew, he would have fallen on there; but
here came the galley, and now he comes over the hills. And we are few to
meet him."
"We will be more when the men come in from the hill-roads before him,"
and Brian rose up with heavy heart, forcing himself to the task. "Send
out a man to haste them in and to warn what men there be at the farms.
Also let him send a wagon or two, that these dead may be carried out
before the Dark Master falls on us. Send two men to the tower to build a
beacon, for Cathbarr will not be back before to-morrow night."
Brian went to the stables where the three carrier-pigeons were caged,
and fetched the cage to the great hall. Here he wrote what had happened,
with his plan, in small space, fastened it under the wing of a bird, and
let loose the pigeon from the courtyard.
Stunned though he was by the sudden and terrible blow, Brian had seized
on the only course left him. If he could make shift to hold the castle
at all, he would do so; if not, he must make terms and get off to
Gorumna that he might take vengeance for this dastardly stroke that had
been dealt him.
Nuala had nigh three hundred men in her castle, and he felt that all was
not yet lost, even should he have to yield Bertragh. The Dark Master
would hardly have a large force with him, and he would know nothing of
those hundred men Brian had loaned Nuala; so Brian reckoned that if he
could get away, O'Donnell would think him a broken man who could do no
further against him.
"Well, that's looking too far ahead," thought Brian very wearily.
"Perchance I am broken, indeed, since I have lost two hundred and a half
of men without gain."
An hour later rode in a score of men with wagons, and fell to work
getting the dead out of the castle, though for burying there was no
time. This score, and two more who came in later, were all the men left
to Brian; they reported that the Dark Master would be on them by
daybreak, with two hundred Scots troopers and one horse cannon.
"His friends proved niggardly, then," laughed Brian drearily. "We have
but to hold the place till to-morrow night, friends, and the O'Malleys
will relieve us. Now, one man to watch and the rest of us to rest, for
there is work ahead."
Brian, indeed, got some sleep that night, but it was shot through with
visions of those poisoned men of his, and their twisted faces gibbered
at him, and he thought they shrieked and howled for revenge. When he was
roused at dawn, he found the meaning of those noises, since a great
storm was sweeping down out of the west, and the farther wore the day,
the worse grew the storm.
"Is Heaven itself fighting against us?" he thought bitterly, watching
the sea from the battlements. "Against this blast Nuala cannot reach me,
if she will."
He got little time to brood, however. Before he had broken his fast the
Dark Master's horsemen came in sight--two hundred braw Scots, with
wagons and a cannon following after. It was no large force, but Brian
found afterward that it was the best the Dark Master could get, since
the Galway Irish cared nothing whether the Scots lived or died.
They halted and spread out, half a mile from the castle, and Brian saw
that the men were being quartered on the farms round about. Bitterly he
wished that he had his lost men, for with them he could have sent those
Scots flying home again; but now he was helpless.
With the gates shut and the bastards loaded with bullets to sweep the
approach, Brian sent his twenty men to the battlements and watched, with
Turlough beside him. It was plain that no offensive operations were
under way as yet, and an hour passed quietly; then ten men rode down to
the castle under a white flag, and foremost of them was the Dark Master.
"Now, if I were in your place, master," said Turlough, slanting his eyes
up at Brian in his shrewd way, "I would loose those bastards and sweep
the road bare."
"You are not in my place," said Brian, and the Wolf held his peace.
The Dark Master looked at those bodies piled between the castle and the
shore, and it was easy to see that he was laughing and pointing them out
to the Scots. At that Brian heard his men mutter no little, and he
himself clenched his nails into his palms and cursed bitterly; but he
forbade his men to fire and they durst not disobey him. The party rode
up under the walls, and the Dark Master grinned at Brian standing above.
"You have great drunkards, Yellow Brian," he called mockingly. "Have all
your men drunk themselves to death?"
Brian answered him not, but fingered his hilt; even at that distance the
Dark Master seemed to feel the icy blue eyes upon him, for his leer
vanished.
"Yield to us, Yellow Brian," he continued, shooting up his head from
betwixt his shoulders. "I do not think you have many men in that
castle."
"I have enough to hold you till more come," answered Brian.
"Mayhap, and mayhap not," and O'Donnell laughed again. "Keep a watch to
seaward, Yellow Brian, and when you see four sail turning the headland,
judge if those two caracks of the Bird Daughter's are like to help you."
"If you have no more to say, get you gone," said Brian, feeling the
anger in him rising beyond endurance. The Dark Master looked along the
walls for a moment, then signed to his men, and they rode off through
the driving snow again.
Turlough looked at Brian and Brian at him, and the same thought was in
the minds of both. If those Millhaven men had four ships driving down
before that storm, as seemed probable enough, the Bird Daughter's two
little caracks would never land men under the guns of Bertragh.
About noon the snow fell less thickly, though the storm had risen to
great power, and Brian made out that the Scots were bringing forward
that cannon of theirs. Having some little knowledge of artillery
himself, he drew the charge of bullets from a bastard and put in more
powder, then put the bullets back, a full bag of them. He did the same
with two more of the bastards on that wall, and when the Scots had
halted aimed all three very carefully, and set men by them to fire at
his order. The Scots were turning their cannon about, a score of men
being in their party, and Brian judged that they were eight hundred
paces away--just within range of his bastards.
"The Dark Master lost this hold because he had too many men," he said to
Turlough, "and we shall lose it because we have too few; but we will
make better use of these shot than did he. Fire, men!"
The three men brought down their linstocks and ran for it, having seen
that extra charge of powder set in the cannon. But none of the pieces
burst, though they roared loud enough and leaped at their recoil-ropes
like mad things. When the white smoke shredded down the wind, Brian's
men yelled in great delight, for those Scots and horses about the cannon
were stricken down or fleeing, and the piece had not yet been loaded.
"They will get little joy of that cannon," said Brian grimly, and went
in to meat.
During the rest of the day the cannon stood there silent, dead horses
and men around it; nor was any further attack made. Brian knew well that
having found him prepared, the Dark Master would now attack at night and
hard did Brian pray that the storm might abate from the west, or at
least shift around, so that Nuala's ships could come to his aid.
Instead, the gale only swooped down the wilder, and seemed like to hold
a day or more, as indeed it did. About mid-afternoon Turlough came and
beckoned him silently out to the rear or seaward battlement and pointed
out.
No words passed between the two men, nor were any needed; beating around
the southern headland were four flecks of white that Brian knew for
ships coming from the west with the storm, and he saw that for once the
Dark Master had told the truth.
"I have some skill at war," he said to Turlough that afternoon when they
had seen the four ships weather past them and anchor a mile up the bay;
"and since the Dark Master's troopers are also skilled at that game,
they will fall to work without waste of time or men. We may look to have
the dry moat filled with fascines to-night and our gates blown in with
petards. At the worst, we can hold that tower, where the powder is
stored."
If he had had more men, Brian would have slung the bastards down from
the high walls and set them in the courtyard where they could sweep the
gates when these had been blown in. But they weighed a ton and half
each, and there was no time to build shears to let them down, even had
they had spars and ropes at hand. So Brian set them to cover the
approach, and had the smaller falcons brought down to the courtyard, all
five, where he trained them on the gates and loaded them with bullets
heavily.
"Turlough and I will fire these ourselves," he told his men that evening
as they made supper together, the men looking forward to the night's
work with great joy. "Do the rest of you gather on either hand by the
stables, with spare muskets and pistols."
So this was done as he said. Because of the storm Brian did not light
his beacon after all, but he stocked the tower with food and wine, and
told his men to get there, if they could, when the rest was taken. That
tower had Brian's chamber in the lower part and a ladder in the upper
part, where was great store of powder.
The five falcons were set in front of the hall doorway, where once Brian
had come near to being nailed. Brian loosed another of the pigeons,
telling Nuala how things chanced, and of the four pirate ships, and set
the last bird in the tower in case of need, which proved a lucky thing
for him in the end.
Brian and his men slept after meat, while Turlough Wolf remained
watching. It was wearing well on to midnight when the old man woke them
all, and Brian went to the walls to hear a thud of hoofs and a murmur of
men coming across the wind to him. He sent off men to loose the loaded
guns on the outer walls at random, and then suddenly flung lighted
cressets over the gates.
A wild yell answered this, and bullets from the men who were filling the
dry moat, while others scrambled across it and charged up to the gates
with small powder-kegs and petards ready. This was not done without
scathe, however; Brian's men loosed their muskets, and one by one the
heavy bastards thundered out across the snow, though the result was hard
to see in the darkness.
There came a ragged flash of musketry in reply, and that abandoned
cannon roared out lustily, though its ball passed far overhead. Brian
stood on a demi-bastion that half flanked the gates, and after firing
his pistol into the men below, he leaped down the steps into the
courtyard and joined Turlough behind the falcons.
"One at a time, Turlough. They'll have the gates down in a minute."
While he waited for the storm to fall, Brian saw that two or three of
his men had been hit. He wondered dully that the Dark Master had not
made a general assault, and concluded that he must wish to save men. It
was a long moment that dragged down on him; then a splash of light burst
up, the gates were driven inward and shattered, and with a great roar
there fell a rain of riven beams and stones and dirt.
Sheltering in the hall doorway, Brian and Turlough stayed unmoving
through an instant of black silence. Out of it broke a wild Scots yell,
and in the light of the courtyard cressets a wave of men surged up in
the breach. Brian's linstock fell on a falcon, and the little gun barked
a hail of bullets across the Scots; Turlough's gun followed suit, and
the first lines of men went down in a struggling mass.
The Dark Master was not to be beaten this time, however. Another wave of
Scots swept up, with a mass of men behind them. While some of Brian's
men tried to get the two falcons reloaded, a storm of bullets swept
across the courtyard, and Brian saw Turlough turn and run for it through
the doorway, while two of the men fell over a falcon.
But as the first line of men broke into the courtyard, Brian fired the
remaining three cannon as fast as he could touch linstock to powder. The
bullet-hail tore the front ranks to shreds, but through the darkling
smoke-cloud he saw other men come leaping, and knew that the game was
up.
On the next instant his men had closed around him, muskets were stabbing
the powder-smoke, and Brian fell to work with his Spanish blade.
O'Donnells and Scots together heaved up against them, but Brian's point
weaved out between cutlas and claymore and bit out men's lives until
the mass of men surged back again like the backleash of a wave that
comes against a wall.
Brian heard the Dark Master's voice from somewhere, and with that
muskets spat from the gloom and bullets thudded around him. One slapped
his steel cap away and another nicked his ear, and a third came so close
across his eyes that he felt the hot breath of it; but his men fared in
worse case than that, for they were clutching and reeling and fallen,
and Brian leaped across the last of them into the hall with bullets
driving at his back-piece.
As he ran through the hall he knew that his falcons had punished
O'Donnell's men heavily, and that his twenty men had not fallen without
some payment for their lives. None the less, Bertragh Castle was now
lost to him and to the Bird Daughter; but he thought it likely that he
would yet make a play that might nip O'Donnell in the midst of his
success.
In this Brian was a true O'Neill and the true luck of the Red Hand had
seemed to dog him, for he had lost all his men without suffering a
defeat, and now that he was beaten down, he was planning to strike
heaviest.
He gained the tower well enough, and found Turlough there to receive
him, with food and wine and loaded pistols. They soon had the door of
the lower chamber fast barred and clamped, and Brian flung himself down
on his bed, panting, but unwounded to speak of.
"Now sleep, master," said the old man. "They will search elsewhere, and
finding this door closed will do naught here until the morning."
Brian laughed a little.
"It is not easy to sleep after fighting, Turlough. I think that now I
will send off that last pigeon, so give me that quill yonder."
With great care Brian wrote his message, telling what had passed, and
saying that he hoped to ride free from the castle next morning. In that
case he would be at Cathbarr's tower before evening came, and he told
Nuala to have all her men landed there at once, since she could hope to
do nothing by sea against the pirate ships.
When the writing was bound to the pigeon's wing he loosed the bird
through the seaward casement, and bade Turlough blow out their
flickering oil-light.
After eating and drinking a little, they lay down to sleep. Men came and
pounded at the door, then departed growling; but Turlough had guessed
aright. The Dark Master was plainly speeding the search for Brian
elsewhere, and since there was no sign of life from the powder-tower, he
did not molest this until close to dawn. Then Brian was wakened by a
shock at the door, and he heard the Dark Master's voice outside
directing his men. Still he seemed to have no thought that Brian was
there, but wanted to get at the powder and into his own chamber again.
Brian took up his pistols and went to a loophole opening on the
battlements, while Turlough still crouched on the bed in no little fear.
Finding that the Dark Master stood out of his sight, Brian fired at two
of the men under the door, and they fell; then he raised his voice above
the shouting that came from outside.
"O'Donnell, are you there?"
The uproar died away, and the other's voice came to him.
"So you are trapped at last, Brian Buidh! Now yield and I promise you a
swift hanging."
"Not I," laughed Brian curtly. "There is no lack of powder here,
O'Donnell Dubh, and one of my men holds a pistol ready for it."
At this he glanced at Turlough, who grimaced. But from outside came a
sudden yell of alarm, and Brian saw a few fleeing figures, while
O'Donnell shouted at his men in furious rage. Brian called out to him
again:
"Give me a horse and let me go free with the one man left me, or else I
will blow up both tower and castle, and you will have little gain for my
death."
"Would you trust my word in this?" cried the Dark Master. Brian smiled.
"Yes, as you must trust mine to leave no fuse in the powder when I am
gone."
Then fell silence. Brian hated O'Donnell, as he knew he was hated in
return; and so great was the hatred between them that he felt
instinctively he could trust the Dark Master to send him out free. It
seemed to him that the other would sooner have him go broken and crushed
than do him to death, for that would be a greater revenge. Moreover, the
Dark Master could know nothing of those men at Gorumna and would have
little fear of the Bird Daughter.
And it befell exactly as Brian thought.
"I agree," cried the Dark Master, stepping out in the dawn-light boldly.
"You shall go forth empty as you came, Yellow Brian. What of those
two-score men you owe me?"
"The time is not yet up," returned Brian, beginning to unbar the door,
and he laughed at the mocking voice.