The Faithful Heart (18 page)

 

 

"All set."

 

 

"Thank you, but I could have—"

 

 

"Yes, I know you could, Morgana, but I really do want to help. And
love isn't a weakness, pet, it can also be a strength. Think of
Plato's
Symposium
. We achieve much in order to make our
beloved proud of us. I want you to be proud of me, just as I am of
you."

 

 

She nodded, and bit her lip. "But mayhap after living so long as the
despised daughter, I need to be proud of myself?"

 

 

"Aye," he agreed. "What your father did was never fair. You're as
alike as two peas in a pod."

 

 

"He did what he thought was best. Now you have to let me do the same
for my family." She picked up the large wooden pounder with a
flourish. "And that means first getting this castle cleaned from top
to bottom, and ready for the spring campaigning season."

 

 

Ruairc decided if he lingered any longer in the kitchen he was going
to lose his temper and probably get covered in boiling fat, or his
mouth washed out with soap. Though for yelling at her or kissing
her, he wasn't quite sure. A vision of her in her warm, steaming
bathtub rose up unbidden. He could recall like it was yesterday her
swanlike neck and the ripe curves of her breasts as the tops bobbed
above the water.

 

 

He shook his head to dispel the vivid image before it unmanned him,
and muttered, “I’m leaving this mad house. I’ll be back soon with
some dinner.”

 

 

He pecked her on the cheek unthinkingly, and departed.

 

 

Morgana stood pensively rubbing the spot where his lips had made
electrifying contact.
Damn him, he’s the only man who can set me
on fire without even trying,
she sighed.

 

 

But then Morgana watched at his retreating back with some amusement.
Poor Ruairc. He’s doing his best to keep his word, but I can see
the disapproval written all over his face.
She smiled to
herself.

 

 

Morgana went to the two guest rooms she had in mind should Niamh and
Ronan decide they wished to stay the night, and found some sheets
for the feather mattresses, and cases for the bolster.

 

 

Once she had finished dusting and sweeping out the rooms, and
putting basins and full ewers of water in each, she went down the
corridor to visit her father.

 

 

She looked around the door quietly to see if he was awake and found
him looking almost back to normal apart from the weight he had lost
and the lingering yellow tinge to his skin.

 

 

“Father, you look so well! Did you have a good sleep?”

 

 

“I did indeed, Daughter. I slept as soundly as a new born baby now
that my cares have been lifted from my shoulders by you.”

 

 

Morgana was astonished to see that he actually smiled.

 

 

“I came to see if you were up to having some clean clothes put on
you, and some clean sheets and a tidying for this room.But if you’re
not up to it, just tell me, and I’ll leave you in peace,” Morgana
offered.

 

 

“No, it’s sounds marvellous. I’d like to look my best for one of my
oldest friends. Can you fetch me my dark green tunic and trousers,
and the matching cloak? And bring me some hot water for a shave?”

 

 

“Your hair looks very shaggy as well, Father. Would you like me to
cut the front a bit shorter?”

 

 

“Might as well, as long as I am getting myself all prettified,”
Morgan laughed.

 

 

“I’ll get some hot water and the scissors, and then leave you to
wash yourself, while I get the clothes and shoes.”

 

 

Morgana hummed a happy little tune to herself as she bustled along
the corridor and back down to the kitchen.

 

 

She poured some hot water from one of the kettles into a copper
cauldron, and took several cloths out of the drawer for her father
to wash and dry himself with.

 

 

After she dropped the water off in his room, she unlocked the door
to his room, and fetched his razor and clothes.Leaving him to his
ablutions, Morgana began to tidy away the mess in Morgan’s room
which looked as though it had been accumulating for far longer than
two years.

 

 

It’s my fault,
she reflected ruefully.
I was never much of
a housekeeper, always out hunting and fishing and fighting.
But then he had had Aofa to look after the finer aspects of castle
life, except that she couldn’t have cared less about anyone other
than herself and her own cmforts.

 

 

Morgana resolved that she would do better, and try to be both a
daughter as well as a substitute son from now on. She examined the
clothes she found with a critical eye and then decided that almost
all of them look liked they needed a good wash. She also stripped
the bed and bolster, and remade them with clean sheets.

 

 

What didn’t go into the wash pile had to be neatly folded and put
away, but the wardrobe and presses were in such a muddle that
Morgana ended up pulling out everything and starting all over
again.One drawer she noticed was locked, and not a single key on the
housekeepping ring would open it. Morgana gave up and decided it was
no concern of hers. It was her father’s private apartment, and he
could do as he liked there.

 

 

Once Morgana had uncovered all the furniture and cleared the floor
of the mess she had found, she dusted the fine oak furniture and
began to sweep out the old rushes. Then she got down on her hands
and knees and scrubbed the floor with a thick, stiff bristled brush,
and brought the mountain of laundry downstairs to the kitchen to get
started with the soaking and scrubbing.

 

 

Mary shook her head and said, “You’ve taken leave of your senses.”

 

 

But Morgana argued, “A good clean once every two years is no bad
thing. I’m sure it will protect us from disease. Here, keep an eye
on these shirts for me.I’m going to put them on for a good boil.”

 

 

Morgana grew heated with her exertions, and stripped down to her
shirt and hose as she went about her chores. She went upstairs and
looked through her own room, tidying, remaking the bed, and sweeping
out the floor and giving it a good scrub.

 

 

When she had done the same with all the other rooms on the first
floor of the castle, she laid fresh rushes on every floor, and then
went to see her father again. He was sitting up in a chair, and with
his whiskers neatly trimmed and his cheeks freshly shaved, he no
longer looked like a ferocious grey bear.

 

 

“Here I am, Father. I hadn’t forgotten you, I’ve just cleaned out
the whole storey,” she said as she pushed a stray auburn curl away
from her forehead with the back of her hand and took up the
scissors.

 

 

“That’s all right, it's worth the wait to see you standing there
looking so happy and fulfilled again. You never were one for sitting
still and doing your hair, were you,” Morgan said, with a slight
edge of bitterness to his voice.

 

 

“Perhaps if I had been we would have got along better,” Morgana
teased, “but instead I had to turn out like a wild young thing.”

 

 

“Wild perhaps, but faithful beyond measure to those you love.”

 

 

“That’s what Ruairc always used to call me, you know, ‘The Faithful
Heart.’ We even named the last ship from Corunna that, since we
could think of no other name.”

 

 

“I hate myself when I think of all I've cheated you out of, but that
is the worst. I've robbed you of two years in which you might have
been happy, two years which might have had you produce two fine
strong grandsons to bless my old age,” Morgan said with a sigh..

 

 

Morgana could actually see tears in his eyes. She hugged his head to
her, and soothed, “There, there, Father. No real harm has been
done.”

 

 

“But I might have died without your knowing the truth, and without
telling you how much you mean to me!” Morgan protested.

 

 

She took his hand and smiled down at him. “Then let us make each
other a promise, that we will make the most of what ever days we
have left. Life is too short for bitter recriminations and regrets.
I'm glad I've patched up my differences with you and Ruairc and the
O’Donnell family. Now that we are all friends again, I would have us
remain that way, and not take that friendship for granted. We should
do more joint trade ventures together, not compete with one another,
and protect each other’s interests on this coast. I think Tiarnach
O’Connor in Sligo would agree with me as well. I will send him a
message inviting him to visit some time when it is convenient, and
to tell him I am finally home.”

 

 

“It sounds as though you mean to stay here after all, Morgana,” he
observed, giving her a sharp look.

 

 

Morgana drew back abruptly, and finished cutting her father’s hair.
“We shall see, Father,” she said quietly, and then left him while
she went to her own room to fix her clothing before her friends
arrived.

 

 

After a hasty wash, she put on a royal blue tunic with matching
hose, and hung her sword around her waist again.

 

 

Then Morgana went to the study, and began to try to make sense of
the entries in the accounts book. For many months there were no
figures at all, so she went to consult her father.

 

 

“I do not wish to pry, Father, but I will really need some idea of
what wealth we have contained in your old strongbox.”

 

 

“There’s nothing left, nothing at all,” her father replied sadly.

 

 

“You mean that apart from the things under this roof, we have
nothing?” Morgana gaped.

 

 

“Bluntly put, but essentially correct. No harvest, no calves, hardly
any lambs, so no food or hides or leather goods, no winter stores,
and no wool. Moreover, nothing worth trading,” Morgan summed up
succinctly.

 

 

Morgana was thunderstruck. They had always been so prosperous. To be
nearly destitute in less than two years was nearly unthinkable.

 

 

But she glanced at her father’s crestfallen face, and knew it was
pointless to either chide him or ask any further questions. At least
she had the treasure and money, and would also have the proceeds of
all the household luxuries she had sent to Armagh with Sean for food
and supplies. She would just have to manage somehow.

 

 

“Well, in that case,” Morgana said with a reassuring smile, “I shall
start a whole fresh page. I will do an inventory of all we have in
the house, and all in the storage rooms and outbuildings. When Ronan
comes with the money he has minted for us, we will pay him, and then
make entries for those things in our book.”

 

 

“I must say you're taking all of this very well. Aren’t you angry
with me for being a foolish old man?” Morgan asked ruefully.

 

 

Morgana shrugged. “Two years ago I was a foolish young woman,
Father. Time has passed, things have changed. We can’t look back, we
can only look to the future.”

 

 

Kissing her father on the brow, she left the room, and started her
inventory on the upper floor of the house.

 

 

She recorded every piece of furniture, every cushion, every sheet.
She was just finishing the second floor when she heard a shout to
signal that Ronan’s ship was approaching the jetty.

 

 

Morgana lifted the skirts of her gown high as she skipped lightly
down the stairs to greet Ronan and Niamh. She was delighted to see
the carts laden with vegetables and grain and farming implements and
seed being rolled off onto the dock. She even saw a new millstone
and a bull also.

 

 

“Owen!” she called to her friend, who had come out of the stables to
see what the commotion was all about. “Ring the belland show
everyone in the village what has arrived. And tell them to go the
kitchens, where there is freshly baked bread and new milk for all.”

 

 

A huge cheer went up as the provisions were brought into the castle
precincts.

 

 

Morgana silenced them all with a wave of her hand to declare,
“Tomorrow I am going to market, so if there is anything else you
wish me to purchase, tell Owen here and he will write it down. The
day after tomorrow, we will begin the ploughing and planting, and
this fine young bull here is going to meet some of the ladies.”

 

 

A good-humoured chuckle went up all over the courtyard, and one man
shouted, “God bless you, Morgana!”

 

 

“Here, here!” several people cried in unison.

 

 

Ronan looked at her admiringly.

 

 

“You’ve done your father proud, you know, even if he is too stubborn
to say so,” he remarked in her ear.

 

 

“Thank you for saying so, Ronan. And you’ll be pleased to know that
Father and I are friends now.”

 

 

“Good, it’s about time. You were always too like one another to get
along when you were younger. But the impetuosity of youth gives way
to patience and tolerance,” Ronan said with a wink.

 

 

“Well, this is certainly a fine greeting, with the entire Maguire
clan coming out to greet us. I feel like visiting royalty,” Niamh
laughed, as Morgana led her to the great hall and summoned Mary to
take her to where the gowns had been laid out.

 

 

Niamh and Mary packed up a dozen of the dresses, but Morgana
frowned.