The Hart and the Harp
by Sorcha MacMurrough
288 pp. paperback
ISBN: 1-58345-030-0
Ireland, 1146
Shive MacDermot and Tiernan O’Hara agree to wed to end a five-year feud between their clans. Though an unlikely alliance at first, Shive begins to fall in love with her new husband. She soon realises the murderer of her brother is a member of her own clan. How can she win Tiernan’s love and prove to him she is not the enemy?
Shive undertakes an epic struggle to save her lands and Tiernan’s from the ambitious Muireadach O’Rourke, determined to kill anyone who opposes his bid to become high-king of all Ireland. Will she prove worthy of Tiernan? Or will he believe all of the vicious lies about her supposed love for another, and become her enemy himself?
Rating: Moderately explicit to slightly steamy.
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Western Ireland, 1149
Shive MacDermot knows that marriage to Tiernan O'Hara could end the five-year feud her father has waged on the O'Hara clan, but she is equally sure her father would never agree to such a match, especially since he claims Tiernan murdered Shive's brother. When Uistean gives the go-ahead, Shive is surprised and relieved at the thought of ending the bloody feud. Not likely, as it turns out. Uistean still wants to exact revenge on Tiernan and the O'Haras, even at the expense of his daughter, for whom he cares very little.
Tiernan and Shive marry, and she sets out to win her new husband's respect, and hopefully his affection. She begins to organize his home and lands, and earns the admiration of all those in the O'Hara clan, but her husband's trust remains elusive. Shive soon realizes her new husband could never have murdered his best friend, and with dawning horror, also realizes the murderer must have been someone from her own clan. Guilt and a sense of responsibility overtake her, and in an effort to right the wrongs done to Tiernan for the past five years, she embarks on a campaign to save him from her crazed father.
More dangerous to Tiernan and the O'Hara clan, however, is the menacing Muireadach O'Rourke, who will stop at nothing in his quest to become the ruler of Ireland. Tiernan and his clan are standing in his way, and Shive is determined to save Tiernan, even if it means losing his love forever.
THE HART AND THE HARP is an action packed, plot-driven novel filled with adventure and danger. Although Shive and Tiernan are the main characters, Shive is clearly at the forefront -- a brave, intelligent woman with a fierce heart and loads of courage. Tiernan is the weaker of the two and at times I found myself wondering why Tiernan was her "ideal" mate. There is almost a role reversal in this story line, which I find both intriguing and refreshing. With such intensity in its plot lines, there is little need to focus on other characters, although the development of the secondary characters is well done.
THE HART AND THE HARP is not for the faint of heart -- but it will please those looking for a rollicking adventure and a bigger than life heroine.
Astrid Kinn
Romance Reviews Today
Prologue
"Since my young days of passion--joy or pain
Perchance my heart and harp have lost a string--
And both may jar."
Lord Byron, Childe Harold, III.
West of Ireland, 1140
The wild boar thundered through the undergrowth, heading straight for the tall lanky young man. He blinked in disbelief. He had been so sure his first arrow had killed it. But he could see now in an instant that it had merely struck the beast a glancing blow. Blood ran down its shoulder in small rivulets. It was squealing so loudly the sound was almost deafening.
Infuriated by its pain, the boar rushed forward, so close that the hunter could feel its hot breath on his face. Bringing up his dagger, he managed to slash open the boar’s throat and windpipe with a desperate thrust and twist of the knife. The dead animal collapsed upon him then, pinning him down with it huge weight, which threatened to crush the very air from his lungs.
He drew as deep a breath as he could manage in order to call for help. But a twig snapping nearby heralded the arrival of his companion, who now stood surveying the blood-bespattered young man with a glint of amusement.
"Don’t just stand there, get this carcass off me!" the hunter wheezed, exasperated.
"‘Tis a fine beast. But it’s a pity for your sake it didn’t kill you. On the other hand, it wouldn’t have suited my purposes at all if he had."
The second man towered over the hunter menacingly now. Tugging an unusual bejewelled dagger out of its scabbard, he raised both hands, and brought it down with a violent stabbing motion.
The young man struggled desperately to get out of the way or at least ward off the blow. His eyes widen with terror and astonishment as the dagger descended inexorably. He shrieked in agony as it cleft his heart in twain.
He gasped, "Why! In the name of God, how could you!" as his own blood began to well up through his mouth and gushed all over his chest in a crimson fountain.
"I’m sorry, lad, truly. You’re simply in my way. The wheels have been set in motion. We shall just have to see where they take me, once you are no longer an obstacle."
As his life’s blood emptied out of him, the young hunter declared with his last breath, "You’ll pay for this one day. I swear on my own grave."
"No doubt I shan’t be going to heaven, Fiachra. But not to worry. I always did imagine living for all eternity with choirs of angels singing would be rather dull," the murderer drawled.
"I have no doubts that you shall go there, though, which should no doubt delight you, since you have always declared the afterlife to be a better place than this one. You always were a bit too fanatical. You’ve become a stumbling block, adanger to me which I simply have to be rid of."
Fiachra struggled futilely against death for a few more seconds, but his head fell back, and with his last dying breath he cursed the man who had brought him to such an end.
When he was certain the hunter was dead, his assailant dragged the boar’s corpse off him, and tugged it a small distance away, further into the woods. Then he smoothed over the dirt trail which he had left from dragging the heavy swine. He checked once more to make certain he had left no trace of his presence behind. He surveyed the scene once more with an expert eye.
Aye, his scheme would work, he thought with great satisfaction. It had all been so easy. The lad had gone to his death like a lamb to the slaughter. And while he himself knew that appearances were often deceptive, this looked convincing enough for his purposes.
Once the young hunter’s dead body was found, he would effectively have killed two birds with one dagger. He chuckled to himself at the apt simile as he circled the area one last time, and then began to head for home.
He had slipped out of his room through his secret passage, but there was no telling when someone might come looking for him on important business, and a trip to the privy only took so long.
He ran back home through the woods, almost skipping in his delight. He had set the wheel of fortune in motion now. Even as poor Fiachra and his friends would spin downwards towards their own ruin, so he would rise to the very top of the wheel. And once at the top, he would do anything, anything, to stay there.
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Additional Reviews:
This is another fantastically clever romantic suspense novel from this prolific and talented writer. From the first sentence we are plunged into the world of twelfth century Irish power politics in which nothing is as it seems. The marriage of convenience has been done before, but never quite like this.
I admire the hero enormously for his courage, fortitude and obvious love for the heroine despite all the difficulties they must face in learning to trust one another. His stubborn pride does keep them apart, but the heroine too has reasons of her own for avoiding admitting she loves him body and soul. This novel shows that where there is true love, it will find a way. Exuberant and joyous, it is a thoroughly enjoyable read. - Evelyn Trimborn
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