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Updated: June 13, 2025
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.
Then the hall blazed up with cressets, logs were flung on the fire, and parties of men set out to build beacons and guard the bay as the Dark Master had given command. And when word was spread abroad among the others of what had chanced in the hall that morning, Red Murrough, the Dark Master's lieutenant, swore a great oath.
This order, and the conversation preceding it, gave Red Murrough some cause for thought. So it was that when Brian wakened once more in his cell, as evening was falling, he found the fetters on him indeed, but Red Murrough had bound up his wounds, dressed his sundered hand-bones, and was sitting watching him reflectively.
"Strip him," he said evenly, and at the word a great howl rang out from all the watching men, like the howl of wolves when they scent blood in the air. Murrough in turn signed to two of his men. These came forward and stripped off what clothes had been left to Brian, so that he stood naked before them.
For that matter the other officers of his command were quite as content as he himself, since all were men from the south-country who loved good wines, and the Dark Master had better store of these than the empty royalist commissariat. As for the Dark Master, Murrough reported to Brian that he also was well content.
There word had also gone forth against him, but because of the pact between them, Murrough of the Kine sped him in peace through Iar Connaught, and at length Brian had won home again with joyless heart. As Turlough said, men were coming, and they were Brian's own men who watched the roads.
Now slay me and have done, for you have wasted much breath this day, and so have I, and it goes ill in my mind to waste speech on fools." "You refuse then?" O'Donnell peered up at him, but Brian set his face hard and made no reply. With a little sigh the Dark Master leaned back in his chair and motioned to Red Murrough to come forward.
"You sold your master, and you will have no chance to sell me, Murrough. I will give you the ten pounds I owe you and a good horse. Refuse, and I slay you when we storm the castle." The end of that matter was that Murrough assented. An hour later he opened the gates, his men taking service with the rest under Brian.
Like a flash the Dark Master leaped at the man who had fired and spitted him through the throat; the others drew back in swift terror, for O'Donnell was frothing at the mouth, and his face was the face of a madman. With a bitter laugh he turned and rolled Brian over with his foot. The five seamen had gone down under the bullets. "He is only stunned," said Red Murrough. "Shall I finish it?"
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