Besieged

place, and several chimneys smoking gently. She could smell the aroma of roasting meat and poultry. The scent of good ale wafted out from the taproom. Several young men ran from the stables to take the horses.

'Come along,' Rory Maguire said, helping Jasmine from her mare. 'Come in and renew your acquaintance with Mistress Tully. She can speak English now. She quickly found it necessary to her survival.'

The duke of Glenkirk found himself a bit piqued by the Irishman's easy manner with his wife. Then he consoled himself with the knowledge that other than Adali and Rohana, Maguire was only acquainted with Jasmine. His was a difficult position. He was not really a servant, having been born to the nobility. Yet he no longer possessed his lands, but rather managed them for an English landlord, who just happened to be the duchess of Glenkirk. I must get to know the man better, James Leslie thought to himself. He seems a good fellow after all, and has been honest with my wife's lands and retainers.

Jasmine scarcely recognized Mistress Tully, who was now plump and rosy-cheeked. The innkeeper greeted her warmly, curtsying and thanking her again for Rowan Lindley's kindness those many years back.

'As you can see, m'lady, his good heart was our salvation. I don't know how I would have managed without it,' she said in her soft lilt.

They sat down in a small private room to a meal of roasted lamb, onions, carrots, and potatoes. There was also a fat duck stuffed with bread and apples; a broiled salmon with dill; fresh bread, butter, and cheese. There were wine and ale both.

'I'm sorry we can't remain the night,' James Leslie remarked as he loosed his doublet and pushed his pewter plate back.

'If we did we shouldn't be able to reach Maguire's Ford by late tomorrow, my lord,' Rory replied.

'Where will we stop tonight, Maguire?' the duke asked.

'The only place we can, Sir John Appleton's manor,' came the reply.

'Is he still alive?' Jasmine wondered aloud. 'As I remember he and his wife were terrible snobs, and extremely unpleasant toward the Irish. He had done something minor in old Queen Bess's court.'

'He's alive all right,' Rory Maguire said darkly, 'and he's but grown meaner with the years. His lady died, but his daughter and son-in-law live with him. They're no better than the old man.'

'It sounds a right treat,' James Leslie muttered.

'Oh, they'll fall all over you and her ladyship, my lord. 'Tis the rest of us that will be given short shrift,' Maguire chuckled.

'There's no place else?' James Leslie queried.

Rory Maguire shook his red head, making a mournful face as he did so.

Sir John Appleton was now a fat old man with a gouty foot. His daughter, Sarah, and her husband, Richard, were spare and sour. They were openly flattered to be entertaining the duke and duchess of Glenkirk and their heiress daughter. They sat Fortune next to their son, John, and hoped for a miracle. They did not get it, for John, normally a loud bully, was struck dumb by Lady Fortune Lindley's beauty and air of self-assurance. She was like no other girl he had ever met, and he was frankly intimidated by her. For her part Fortune ignored him. Young John Appleton had a spotty face and damp palms. The fact he was so silent and lacking in interesting conversation did not stand him in good stead with Fortune. She thought him rather foolish.

'The reputation of yer horses is widespread,' old Sir John remarked. 'I'm amazed considering ye've got Irish Catholics working on yer estates. They've robbed ye blind, no doubt.'

'I have both Catholics and Protestants working on my estates,' Jasmine said sweetly. 'Both render me good service, and I find no difference in them, Sir John. They are all decent people.'

'Idol-worshipping papists,' the old man said venemously.

'Catholics don't worship idols,' Fortune suddenly snapped, highly irritated. 'They worship God. What twaddle!'

'Madame! Reprimand your daughter. She is much too forward, and wrongheaded,' Sir John snapped.

'Fortune, please apologize to Sir John. He cannot help his ignorance,' the duchess of Glenkirk said to her daughter.

'Yes, Mama,' Fortune remarked meekly. 'I apologize to you for your ignorance, Sir John.' She smiled sweetly. Then rising, Fortune curtsied prettily. 'I must retire now,' she explained, and left the room.

Sir John and his family were not certain at all that Fortune had really apologized, but they dared not argue further with the duchess of Glenkirk. The girl was not at all suitable for their young John, they silently decided. She was much too pretty, and far too bold. Undoubtedly she would come to a bad end. They were not unhappy in the least when their guests announced they would seek their beds.

Rory Maguire, Adali, and Rohana had been grudgingly served a meal in the kitchen of the great house. The servants were suspicious of the Irishman, and his two foreign-looking companions. After they had eaten they were told that Rohana could go with her mistress, but the two men would have to sleep in the stables.

'Master don't allow the likes of ye in the house,' the cook said grimly. 'We'd all be murdered in our beds!'

'I doubt there is any man who would even get close to that woman's bed,' Adali said humorously as he and Rory found a spot for themselves in the stable loft. He spread his cloak upon the sweet-smelling hay and sat down. 'I've slept in worse places,' he decided.

'I, also,' Rory agreed, laying his own garment upon the hay. He stretched out, and then said, 'She looks happy.'

'She is,' Adali said.

'Good.'

'You have never married, Master Maguire?' Adali asked.

'Nay,' came the answer. 'There was no point to it. The lands were no longer mine. I had naught to offer a woman. Children would have but complicated my life for they would be Catholics by faith, Irish by blood, and alien in their own land as long as the English occupy it. I cannot be certain of the future myself. I should not want the responsibility of a wife and children to worry over.'

'You have no need of a woman?' Adali probed.

'After her?' was the reply.

'It was but one hour of one night almost twenty-one years ago, Master Maguire. Are you telling me there has been no other since?'

'Aye. Oh, once in a rare while I have a bout of lust which is satisfied by a village widow of my acquaintance. She is known for being kind to men like me, but as she is discreet, there is none who would call her a whore,' Rory said.

'Can you be as discreet as your widow, Master Maguire?' Adali asked him in all seriousness.

'Of course!' Rory exclaimed. 'Have I not always been? I know she knows nothing of what happened. I would not distress her.'

'Good. She thinks of you as her friend, Master Maguire,' Adali told him. 'I believe you would not want to lose that friendship. She loves James Leslie, and he loves her. They have built a