Chapter Two #5
Devlin nodded as he chewed his bread. “I will come shortly,” he said. “Meanwhile, send Enda to me. I have a task for her.”
As Shain went to find the old serving woman who oversaw the keep, Devlin turned to Iver. His manner seemed to slow, his expression becoming pensive.
“I wonder how long it will take the English to hear of this victory and make plans to overwhelm us,” he muttered.
Iver toyed with an empty wooden cup. “Not long,” he said.
“We destroyed a large fleet last night. Word will travel quickly. I am not as worried about Kildare as I am worried about the settlement to the south with the de Cleveley and Connaught clann. After our successful raids last year, you and I discussed plans to wipe them out entirely. Mayhap we should visit that plan again. Any English foothold on our soil can only mean danger for us; mayhap it is time to eliminate them once and for all, and send a clear message to Kildare – we do not want English on our lands. Ireland belongs to the Irish.”
Devlin thought on the rather large settlement they had severely damaged last year. It had been a costly fight, but ultimately a glorious one. He drew in a long, slow breath.
“Long have we discussed their destruction,” he agreed.
“Mayhap you are correct; mayhap with Kildare’s defeat, it is time we rid Wicklow of the English once and for all.
Gather my commanders this eve and after sup, we will discuss the possibilities.
We must strike while fortune continues to be in our favor. ”
Iver agreed. “Indeed,” he replied, eyeing Devlin. “Have you thought about asking your prisoner what she knows of the English plans? As Kildare’s sister, surely she was privy to her brother’s intentions.”
Devlin shook his head. “I have not thought to ask her,” he said. “It seems to me that she was truthful when she said she stowed away on the fleet to be near her lover.”
“It is possible that she was truthful, but it is also possible she knows more than what she is telling.”
Devlin thought on that. “I do not believe that to be the case, but I will of course interrogate her. I would be foolish not to.”
Iver nodded his head, rising to stand and clapping Devlin on the shoulder as he moved.
It was a gesture of comfort, of confidence.
As Devlin watched the man lumber out of the hall, he caught movement over to his left.
Turning, he saw the slight figure of his chatelaine approach.
When the old woman saw that he was looking at her, she bowed her head in a gesture of utter respect.
“Mo tiarna,” she said. “How many I be of service?”
Devlin’s thoughts immediately moved away from furious commanders and English settlements to the pale, lovely lady trapped in the chamber over his head. With a crooked finger, he motioned the old woman closer.
“I have a task for you, máthair,” he said. “It would seem we have a… guest.”
The old woman was frail, pale, and toothless, but she was much more robust than she looked.
She was also fairly unafraid to speak to Devlin, having known him since he’d been a small lad.
Old Enda, the chatelaine of Black Castle’s keep, had heard the tales of the English prisoner and she had further heard what Devlin had done to her.
There wasn’t much she didn’t know about the place, and she’d heard terrible stories.
She simply nodded her head to his statement.
“I have heard, mo tiarna,” she said evenly. “Shall I tend to her?”
Devlin nodded. “Clothing, food, and a bath,” he said, rising from his chair. “Tend her well and do not let her leave that room. I shall be with the men but will return before sundown.”
“Aye, mo tiarna.”
“She is a valuable prisoner. Treat her as such.”
“Aye, mo tiarna.”
“And you will not let anyone in that room other than me. Make sure you bolt the door from the inside.”
“Aye, mo tiarna,” she said obediently. “But… mightn’t the vault be a better place for the prisoner than your chamber? It is better guarded.”
Devlin’s gaze lingered on the old woman. “Not this prisoner,” he said after a moment. “She must be kept safe and the vault would not be a safe place for her.”
Enda nodded obediently and Devlin lowered his gaze, fearful that she might read something more into his statement.
It bordered on concern rather than cold indifference.
He quit the room without another word but Old Enda understood, or at least she thought she did; a damaged prisoner was of no use to anyone and the way the men about Black Castle felt for the English, it wouldn’t be a difficult stretch for any one of them to slip into the room and kill the wench.
Sir Devlin wanted her undamaged by others so he could damage her personally.
He would use her as his own personal victory over the English.
Moreover, it wasn’t any of Enda’s business what he did to the woman. He wanted her safe and safe she would be. She watched the massive Irish knight quit the hall before scurrying about her duties; she had a prisoner to attend to.