As novice Sister Attracta,
formerly Morgana Maguire, laboured on her knees
digging in the still partly frozen soil, a shadow
fell over her prostrate form, and the new scent she
breathed in had naught to do with the garden. Morgana
shuddered with cold and fear, and slowly rose to face
her visitor. She hoped her face would appear a mask
of indifference, though inside her heart hammered
against her ribs painfully.
"Well, Ruairc MacMahon,
state your business, and leave. I have work to do
here, as you can see," Morgana declared flatly.
Morgana’s violet eyes
finally rose to met Ruairc’s emerald green ones
as the silence stretched, and then blushed furiously
at the openly speculative appraisal that she saw
there. Like he’s trying to strip me naked, she
thought resentfully, seeing the all too familiar
twinkle in his eyes. Ruairc towered over her, so with
a proud lift of her chin, Morgana met his gaze again,
refusing to be cowed by him as she had once been,
long ago, in her other life.
"No word of welcome for me
then, my dear? After all, I am one of your oldest
friends, and the man you were once betrothed
to."
"You and I have nothing to
say to one another after all this time, so if you are
trying to cause trouble, or make me change my mind
about...."
"As if I could ever make
you change your mind about anything!" Ruairc
snorted.
"No, Morgana, I’m not
here to beg and plead with you to see my way, to
trust me, for the words would only fall on deaf ears
as they did two years ago, and I have a strong
objection to making a fool of myself twice."
Morgana turned her back on him,
and started to gather up her tools. "Really, I
have no intention of standing here listening to
this...."
"Morgana, for pity’s
sake, just stop a minute, and hear what I have to
say," Ruairc spat, as he wrestled with her for
possession of the spade.
"All right, I’ll give
you one minute, and then I am going inside. What can
your aunt be thinking of, allowing you to come here
like this!" Morgana grumbled mutinously.
"Morgana, I’ve come
here to give you a choice, whether you want to come
home with me now, or remain here forever locked
inside this cloister."
"Why should I come home,
Ruairc?" Morgana argued as she bent to resume
her work. One of the older nuns had begun to eye the
young novice with a frown. Morgana knew that with the
late spring they were well behind on their planting
already, without her wasting her time going over old
ground with her worst enemy.
"Why shouldn’t you
come to see your family and friends? You are still
only a novice, you can come home any time you like.
All the people from the castle and village send their
love, and ..."
"Stop it! Don’t you
dare say another word. I know what you’re trying
to do, and it won’t work, do you hear!"
Morgana hissed, trying to avoid making a scene for
all to see.
"I’ve left my old life
behind through my own free will, and there is no
point in looking back now. My future is here. In less
than a fortnight I am to take my final vows. So if
this is some sort of trick, Ruairc, then it
hasn’t worked, and you can just leave now."
Morgana looked at Ruairc again
squarely as she finished her impassioned speech, but
even as she was demanding that he go, she inhaled the
musky maleness of him, and her stomach began to turn
somersaults. She struggled frantically to subdue the
longing she felt every time he was near, and she
ached for one of his masterful kisses to overpower
her more rational self.
Almost as if sensing her inner
thoughts, Ruairc moved closer to her, and as Morgana
stepped back hastily to avoid any physical contact,
she tripped over her rake and would have been sent
sprawling had Ruairc not caught her. He pulled her
close, and then smoothed down the white novice’s
habit in a soothing gesture.
"Morgana, my love, I have
not come here to fight with you, or trick you in any
way, but merely to tell you that your father
isn’t at all well, and will not rest until you
come to see him," Ruairc said in a more
resonable tone.
Morgana sagged against Ruairc,
taking comfort from his strength and the warmth which
emanated from his huge frame. But suspicions still
lurked in the back of her mind, and she suddenly
realised she was in full view of the entire convent
as they headed out of the cloister and into the
church for prayers.
"I can’t," she
stammered, pulling away. "My duty, my vows. I
must...."
"I’ve spoken to my
aunt already. She has released you for as long as you
need to be away. I know you are to take your vows in
a fortnight’s time, she’s explained all
that, but she pointed out that even if you miss the
bishop this time, there will be other times for him
to accept you into the church. But there may not ever
be another chance to see your father again,"
Ruairc added. He saw Morgana stiffen visibly.
He knew Morgana so well, and yet
she could be such a stranger, Ruairc reflected, as he
gazed at her lovely face under its coif, and longed
to see the vibrant auburn hair concealed
underneath.
A stray curl peeped out, and he
tucked it behind her ear, and said in a softer tone,
"Morgana, I know how difficult this is for you,
especially since you and your father have had so many
differences in the past, but he has been ill for some
time. Though he has done his best to rally, I fear
the worst. The whole family has been sent for, and I
am charged to bring you home safely to Lisleavan with
all possible haste."
Morgana gasped as his warm
fingers caressed her cheek, and she slapped his hand
away with an arrogant toss of her head. "And
why, if this were genuinely true, would he send you
of all people to fetch me, Ruairc? My father must
know you are the last person I would ever trust, or
would ever wish to see again, even if he could bring
himself to trust you again, which I very much
doubt."
Ruairc’s emerald green eyes
glittered coldly, and his mouth tightened into a thin
line. "I don’t know the exact circumstances
of the illness, for I have been in service in Dublin
these past two years, and was only summoned to
Lisleavan a week ago," he temporised, not sure
nhow much of the truth he ought to reveal to her at
this point.
"Your father, sent for me
to make amends. We have made our peace with one
another. Morgana, he has sent me because he trusts
me, and he knows that no matter what you think may
have happened in the past, I would never let any harm
come to you," Ruairc asserted
Morgana stood with her back to
Ruairc, weighing his words. He came up softly behind
her, and pleaded quietly, "Morgana, I give you
my word, if all is well at Lisleavan you can stick my
head up on a pole with your own two hands. I pray
your father will be well again soon, and then I
assure you, you can come back here as soon as you
like. But if he really is dying, I think you owe it
to him and the rest of the clan to be by his side,
patch up your differences, and ease his troubled
mind.
"I’m only his foster
son. You are the eldest of his remaining children. He
trusts us both to do what needs to be done, for the
good of all the clan. The harvests have been poor,
there has been trouble with neighbouring
landholders," Ruairc added reluctantly.
"With your brothers, you
mean!" Morgana spat, turning around to face him,
and Ruairc almost laughed aloud with relief. For a
few moments he had almost feared she would retreat
back into the cloister, but her true nature was now
showing itself once more, as she gathered her tools
and then hitched up her skirts.
"If the clan needs me,
summons me, I must obey. I hope you are wrong about
my father, but if the Mother Superior has given me
permission to leave, I might as well take advantage
of her generosity and go."
With a sweep of her skirts she
flew up the stairs, and Ruairc tapped on the door and
re-entered his aunt’s private study.
As he sat sipping a small glass
of wine, he mused on how predictable Morgana was
after all. Her clan. Her home, meant everything to
her. It was this overwhelming love which had made her
take to the convent two years ago, and though he knew
from his aunt that she struggled desperately to be a
good nun and devote her life to God, the wildness
inside her had refused to be tamed. There had been no
mistaking the light that glowed in her violet eyes at
the prospect of seeing her family and friends again,
even though her attitude towards him had been less
than friendly.
Ruairc felt a pang of conscience
prick him sorely. Was he doing the right thing by
insisting she come back with him? He wanted to spend
every waking moment of the rest of his life with her,
of that he was sure. He knew he was being selfish by
jumping at the chance of coming to see her, and of
having such a good excuse as her father’s
illness to spend some time with her. Morgana’s
father had really sent for her, but Ruairc had
volunteered to fetch her himself, if only to catch a
glimpse of her, reassure himself she was all
right.
And yes, she was completely
correct about his intentions. He had waited for
months, years, and probably would have invented some
excuse to come up from Dublin to see her had it not
been for her father’s timely summons. But damn
it, he couldn’t just sit by idly and have her
ruin both their lives by locking herself up in the
convent forever.
But to take her back to
Lisleavan would be to expose Morgana to danger, for
he had neglected to mention what he and her father
Morgan both knew with absolute certainty, that
someone in the household was poisoning the old
man.
Ruairc smoothed down the hair he
had unconsciously ruffled, and then stood as his
kindly aunt entered the room.
"I take it you have been
successful in persuading her to go home, for a
whirlwind is sweeping through the novice’s
quarters in the kitchen. But something troubles you,
my son. You haven’t lied to the child, got her
to come under false pretences?" the Mother
Superior, Agatha frowned.
"No, Aunt, not false, but
not entirely truthful either. Morgan Maguire is being
slowly poisoned by someone in his household. I hope
and pray we will find the culprit, will discover the
means, stop him from falling into further decline,
but if he dies, Morgana is the clan chief.
"The Maguire clan have had
a hard year, and it will get harder. Things seem to
have fallen apart in the sept,
not because her brother Conor died, but because
Morgana went away. I don’t want to bring her
into danger, Aunt, but nor can I let the whole family
fortune and prosperity just slip away. They are my
family now, Lisleavan is my home. It is the only real
home I’ve ever had since you took your vows, and
if Conor hadn’t been murdered, and myself
falsely incriminated, Morgana would have been my
wife, and the mother of my children by now, with the
help of God."
"Yet Morgana has opted for
the church, and as a woman she would not be
everyone’s first choice as clan leader, even
should she wish to resume her old life. You are
putting her in an impossible, not to say dangerous
position, and I hope you are not going to corner her
into making a decision based upon duty only,"
his aunt reprimanded him.
"By all I hold sacred,
Aunt, I have always loved her, not her lands or
titles, and no on could have ever douvted that had
her brother Conor lived. The case against me looked
bad, but she should have loved and trusted me enough
to give me the benefit of the doubt," Ruairc
argued angrily.
"But this issue goes beyond
mere feelings, to the very heart of our society. My
brothers have applied for titles from Henry the
Eighth, and have been dividing up the MacMahon lands,
buying others, until they have succeeded in
surrounding the Maguires. I make no mention of my own
dispossession, though I am legally and morally
entitled to a portion of the Maguire holdings should
I choose to press such a claim. But you know
yourself, Aunt, we have always held the land in
common for centuries, with no need to put our names
to titles deeds. We never threatened each other with
legal redress for infringing on each other’s
territories, until my brothers gained the upper hand
in the clan.
"I am doing well in Dublin.
I want for nothing, so I have no reason to press my
claims. But all our cousins, the elderly, women and
children, have been thrown off the estates,
completely dispossessed, and the land given over to
sheep and cattle. I couldn’t even get into
Carrickdoo. It was so heavily fortified it looked
more like the royal mint than my family
home,"’ Ruairc complained, thumping his
fist down on the table angrily.
"Patience, my son. You are
a man of the world, you will weather these storms.
But you are also a man of God. You have a Christian
side to you, which feels the injustice done to your
family deeply. But it is done, and I fear there is no
turning back. Your brothers will not suddenly
transform overnight into decent men, and give these
people back their homes," Agatha sighed.
"Tell me, what has happened to all the
dispossessed?"
"I have heard
Morgana’s family have taken most of them in for
the time being, but after a brief visit to see
Morgan, I came straight here. I have no idea what
their circumstances are, but after the disastrous
harvests, the cattle raids, fires, and wells running
dry last year, I doubt the Maguire clan will able to
provide for so many mouths. Now do you see why we
need Morgana?" Ruairc explained.
"Ruairc, you were my child
until I was widowed, and I can sense your thoughts
and feelings as though you were speaking them aloud.
I fear your love for Morgana may be blinding you to
the truth, or to the prudent course of action,"
Agatha stated flatly, and raised her hand imperiously
when Ruairc sought to interrupt.
"Spare me your protests,
Ruairc. You love her, you always have, but she was
too young to be sure of your love. Though I am
certain she has missed you every day for the past two
years, she could be content here if only you would
let her be. I am afraid you might, deliberately or
unwittingly, use her to fight your battles, or worse
still, enter into marriage with you for the sake of
duty rather than love."
"Not a day passed without
me wanting to come here and take her away, marry her,
but I understand your concern for her welfare, and I
promise you, I won’t force her into doing
anything she doesn't wish to. She strong-willed
enough to know her own mind. I doubt anything I could
say would influence her, not when she thinks I killed
her brother Conor, my best friend, with my own
hand," Ruairc said bitterly.
"I admire you for your
courage and restraint, my son, but would also remind
you, Morgana is meant to be taking her final vows in
a fortnight. What will you do if she embraces the
Church instead of yourself?" Agatha asked
quietly.
Ruairc avoided his aunt’s
piercing gaze by turning to look out the window,
where a wintry shower had just started. "A great
deal can happen from now until then, Aunt Agatha, and
I have the uneasy feeling it will. We are dealing
with forces beyond our control, and Fate sometimes
deals us a rotten hand we simply have to play out to
the last.
"But I’m not entirely
powerless, and I don’t intend to fight fair
where Morgana is concerned. I love her. She belongs
with me, beyond any other considerations of the
Maguire family. I know they need her too, but I would
elope with her down to Dublin tomorrow without a
penny to her name if she only gave some sign that she
still cared for me," Ruairc confessed.
"In that case, Ruairc, I
shall pray for you both, and it will be as the good
Lord decides. I should be sorry to lose the most
diligent, hard-working nun I’ve ever had, but
would be glad to have a new niece in the
family," Agatha smiled gently.
"Has she really performed
so well here, Aunt?" Ruairc asked in surprise.
"Yes indeed. No task was
too difficult or onerous, and she is young and
strong. You would also be surprised to find how well
her cooking and sewing have come on. She would make a
good wife and chatelaine of a castle now. She’s
not the same wild hoyden you once knew, Ruairc."
"Conor’s death
affected her very badly," Ruairc admitted.
"Not just his death,
Ruairc. She is older and wiser, and has struggled
hard to subdue her impatient nature."
Ruairc laughed long and hard.
"Impatient? Bellicose would be a more
appropriate description. Why, the five of us were the
backbone of the Maguire clan. Together we were
invincible! She was the best horseman I’d ever
seen, and as for...."
"Ruairc, she has
changed!" Agatha insisted. "Don’t try
to force her into reverting back to her old ways. You
yourself have told me there may be danger. I hope you
are not coming here with the intention of getting her
to come come and unite the Maguire clan behind her as
their warlord," Agatha scolded disapprovingly.
Ruairc blinked as though he
couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "Aunt
Agatha, you aren’t suggesting I would use
Morgana for my own ends!"
"Perhaps not deliberately,
but it may happen, if your brothers are determined to
continue down the course they have taken, and old
Morgan dies."
The blood hammered in
Ruairc’s ears, and he steadied himself with a
deep breath. "There’s nothing wrong with
defending ourselves!"
"Who is ‘us’,
Ruairc? You are an outcast amongst the Maguires, and
you know it! Please reconsider your position, or at
least stop to think what this means for Morgana. You
run the risk of her death by bringing her back to
Lisleavan, and that is the bald truth, is it
not?" Agatha challenged.
"Yes, but--"
"Would you run the risk of
losing her just when you have found her again?"
"It will be her choice,
Aunt Agatha," Ruairc said stiffly.
"I doubt that very much,
Ruairc. Just be sure your motives are pure, that it
isn’t revenge you seek."
Ruairc stared at the nuns as
they filed out of the church at the end of Mass, and
then turned back to face his aunt.
"I swear to you, by all I
hold sacred, if Morgana wishes to come back here, I
will not stand in her way. I love her enough to let
her have her freedom, if that is what she
chooses."
"What if she chooses
another man? After all, as the heir, all will seek
her hand, where none would have troubled to
before," Agatha observed.
"Then I will have to let
her go. I can’t live like a blind fool on empty
hopes for the rest of my life, now can I? Maybe
I’ve already lost her!" he agonised,
running his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"I have no way of clearing my name concerning
Conor’s death. I cannot tell her where I was
without breaking a confidence, and she should have
had more trust in me, believed me when I said
appearances were deceiving."
"She was young, too apt to
listen to others. Give her another chance. I think
she will recognise the true from the false now, after
the passage of time, and the days and nights she has
had alone here to search her own heart," Agatha
consoled.
"I hope you are right, for
she needs to know I am on her side. I do truly fear
the worst. With my brothers Dermot and Brendan
destroying the MacMahon clan, living in complete
luxury while the people starve, they will have very
few scruples about moving against her. Morgana’s
sister Aofa has done little for the past two years
other than comb her hair and parade up and down in
silk and brocade gowns," Ruairc snorted in
disgust.
"Morgan let Aofa and her
mother have anything, and Morgana was allowed to run
wild, was completely neglected, poor, with barely a
change of clothes to her name. Conor of course got
everything as the son and heir, and yet they were the
best of friends. When Conor died, the Maguires obeyed
Conor’s wishes and chose Morgana as their
leader. That old Morgan could never forgive, though
he knew in his heart Aofa was useless other than as
an ornament to grace some rich man’s table,
provided she didn’t open her mouth and reveal
her stupidity for all to see."
"That is somewhat
overstating the case, my son, for I’m sure Aofa
has more cunning, if not brains, than your give her
credit for," Agatha observed astutely. "But
I do agree with you, the way Morgana was treated by
her father was shameful, and I can’t help
thinking he will regret it one day. It was unfair of
him to blame Morgana for her mother’s death, and
she was lucky to have her aunt raise her with Finn
and Patrick, until she of course died.
"And after Alice died,
Morgan took you as foster son, and you never gave him
a day’s trouble, supported Morgana when she
needed it, and the five of you grew strong and
upright, tough in both mind and body, while Aofa sat
in her silken parlour. Ruairc, you do forgive me
for..."
Ruairc went over to take his
aunt’s hand. "There was nothing to forgive.
Once Uncle Sean died, you obeyed the higher calling
you felt you had. As you said about my love for
Morgana, if you care for someone, you support the
choices they make, even if you don’t always
agree with them. You were a fine mother to an
orphaned boy, and my only regret is that Dermot and
Brendan weren’t fostered by Morgan as well, but
instead were parcelled out to the O’Reilly
clan."
"The family thought at the
time that it would heal the rift between the
MacMahons and O’Reilly, and perhaps even with
them and the Maguires. We all live so close together,
and I can’t help feeling that it is pointless to
raid and kill when we could gain more through
cooperation.," Agatha sighed.
"Old rivalries die hard,
Aunt, and as I’ve said, other forces beyond our
control are at work here. We have good land, and the
best fisheries which the MacMahons as well as
O’Reillys would like to seize."
"Or, they can cut off your
lines of communication with the rest of the country,
except by sea, unless you are very careful," the
elderly nun observed perceptively, causing Ruairc to
stop short, and frown.
"You may have a point
there, something I never stopped to consider. And if
something were to happen to our ships..."
"Ruairc, may I remind you,
you have only just returned from Dublin. I see by
your use of the word "We" that your
loyalties are clearly on the side of the Maguires,
but by birth your are a MacMahon, and in view of what
happened two years ago, Morgan’s forgiveness or
no, the rest of the sept may not
be so accepting of your presence or interference.
They might even think you are spying for your
brothers, and are after Morgana for her land and
wealth."
"Especially since my
charming brothers are enforcing the dissolution of
the monasteries in the MacMahon territories even as
we speak,’’ Ruairc stated grimly, and his
aunt gasped and clutched her side as though she had
been stabbed.
"Only one or two of the
religious houses just on the border with the Maguire
lands to the south. I’m sorry to say, I
don’t know my own family any more, and I
certainly don’t know what will happen to our
land in the future if this keeps up."
"I cannot believe Dermot
and Brendan would do such a thing!"
"Greed is an excellent
motive for many people’s behaviour, as well you
know," Ruairc pointed out tersely.
They both lapsed into silence,
and Agatha sighed deeply. "I thank you for your
candour, my son, but once again would warn you of
what will happen if you take Morgana back to
Lisleavan."
Ruairc sat down with a weary
grunt, and shrugged. "I’m glad I came to
speak with you, for it has cleared things in my own
mind, speaking aloud thoughts and worries I
couldn’t voice to others.
"Honestly, all I have seen
and heard in the past few days since I came from
Dublin go against all I have ever loved or believed
in. My loyalty is ultimately to Morgana, but I have
fears for my own people now that the MacMahons have
been driven off their own lands, and English and
Welsh mercenaries are put in their place. I
don’t think I am strong enough to stop my
brothers myself, but perhaps together, Morgana and I,
and perhaps Finn and Patrick also, if they are
willing, can prevent all we have known and loved from
being swept aside.
"My brothers are siding
with the English against their own people, taking
King Henry’s side in the divorce question for
their own benefit, and I fear no good will come of
it. It leaves us in a dreadful position regarding
Spain’s support for Katherine of Arragon and the
princess Mary, and the rest of the Catholic countries
on the Continent which could do the Maguires harm if
only from the trade point of view. It could only be a
matter of time before they move against the Maguires
outright, and we need to be prepared.
"Fortunately, Patrick and
Finn are due back soon, one from the south and the
other from Scotland, and with Morgana coming home,
outright confrontation with my brothers can probably
be avoided for a time. But once the summer campaign
season starts, the Maguire and MacMahon clans could
be at war, though Morgana will not thank me for
saying so," Ruairc sighed.
"What will happen if Morgan
dies? You say it is poison?" Agatha demanded.
"Morgana is the heir, as
Conor declared. It will be up to her if she decides
to accept, or hand it over to Finn or Patrick. I
would say though, that they would be unwilling, for
though Morgana is only a woman, she is the pick of
the whole clan for brains and skill."
"And what will happen if
she accepts the clan’s vote of confidence and
becomes the named heir?"
Ruairc threw his hands wide in
despair. "Then she will be in danger as tanist
of the sept, which is right back where this
discussion started. I don’t have all the
answers, Aunt Agatha, I can’t see into the
future. All I know is that her father needs her
now."
Ruairc began to pace the room,
running his fingers through his thick black hair, his
lustrous green eyes sparkling in the firelight.
At length he declared. "I
don’t know if she will trust me, or ever be able
to love me again, but she did once, long ago, of that
I am sure. Perhaps in time she will again, but I will
not break my confidence, so unless the person
responsible tells her where I was on the day of
Conor’s death, I shall remain silent upon the
subject. But I give you my word, she is the only
thing of value I cherish in this whole world and I
will not see her harmed. But nor will I give her up
to the Church, or to another man, without a
fight."
Morgana’s entrance
prevented Agatha from making any reply, and the
younger nun walked up to her Mother Superior for a
blessing.
"My prayers are with you
and your family, my dear, and the Lord will watch
over you and those you love. "
Morgana felt a lump in her
throat as she whispered, "I’ll be back
soon, Mother."
Morgana felt her hand placed in
Ruairc’s strong grip, and Agatha said softly,
"If I never see you again, Morgana, remember I
will always be with you in spirit."
Ruairc saw his aunt’s face
whiten, and he sat her down in a chair quickly.
"You are not ill, are you,
Aunt?" Ruairc whispered, as the icy grip of her
gnarled old hand clutched at his arm.
"Of course not, my son, but
none of us can predict the future, now can we? It is
all in the hands of God. Farewell to you both.
Ruairc, take her now, and go. Don’t come back
unless she insists, and don’t argue,"
Agatha added in an undertone as Ruairc bent to kiss
her wrinkled cheek.
Ruairc took Morgana by the hand,
and oddly chastened, she went along to the stables as
meekly as a lamb.
"Home!"
Morgana’s heart sang within her breast as she
mounted the horse Ruairc had brought for her.
"I’m going home."
