Chapter 5

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But, now what? She had done her job in two days and had five days to spare. After retrieving her dress from where she had hidden it, she paused, considering her options. To follow O'Neal she had to have a horse. But she couldn't ride as a maid. It was too rare; she would stand out and that was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. She had one more option. She turned her maid's dress inside out, revealing a satin dress. She pulled it on and went back into the town to spend the night. The next morning, after a much-needed bath, Rowen borrowed a horse with the promise of returning it within a week. The owner was hesitant at first but when she gave him a gold coin he became more favorable to her idea. She decided to be an Irish noblewomen, instead of English, hoping that would help her blend in with the Irish around her. She asked the innkeeper where 'Brian mac Boru' would be next.

He named a town to the west and said, "There is talk he shall be there this evening." She thanked him and left. Stopping at a shop, she bought gloves and a hat. Even with the delay, she reached the town with an hour to spare. The time passed and nothing. Ten minutes, then twenty, and finally, an hour went by and still no one. A messenger rushed in.

Breathless he gave the people his news. "Boru is dead! He was killed near Clontarf sometime last night. It was those English. They say it was an English blade that did it." Shocked gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd. Rowen analyzed the situation. Most likely Flann was still alive. But he had heeded her warning. To avoid England's wrath he had pretended to die by the hand of the English. This act might be something that aroused his people from their sleep. The spark that sent the fire ablaze. Perhaps she could use her influence as a 'noblewomen' to calm the crowds. It was worth a try. The people had begun to panic. Their fearless leader was gone. Rowen mounted hoping the extra height of her horse would give her more attention.

"Good people, please we canna lose our heads." There was a stirring, then quiet, as people turned to look at her. A murmur ran through the crowd as they tried to figure out who was speaking to them. Rowen mentally chastised herself for not coming up with a tested fake name before now. It was too late now, she might say something that was clearly wrong.

She cleared her throat. "The death of Brian mac Boru is a great loss and this country shall mourn his leaving. But we canna jump to conclusions. We canna be sure it was the English. Many people didna believe Brian, it may be that it was one of those who murdered him." The crowd seemed confused and conflicted, uncertain as to who to believe. The messenger himself wasn't too sure and didn't offer any more support to his news. The fear of the crowd turned to chaos and Rowen slipped away to avoid any questions about who she was. Well, Flann had accepted her threat, for now. When time passed the seriousness of it might wear off his fright and he could return saying that he had been brought back from the dead. A miracle that should convince some people. Her eyes narrowed. If she was in his place that's what she would do. England would have to keep an open ear to more rumors. She stayed the night at the inn and spent the next day returning to the inn. There was still three days before William returned but he too could have finished early and returned. But he wasn't there. The next day passed and Rowen found little to keep her amused. She looked at some fine examples of horses for which Ireland was famous. But the day dragged. Waking the next morning she couldn't bear to face the same monotony. She saddled her borrowed horse and began riding. Unconsciously she went north. She became lost in thought and when she became aware of her surroundings again, she let out a moan. "William is going to kill me." She had headed north for so long that there wasn't enough time to retrace her steps back to the inn before dark. If she pushed her horse she could make it to Tyrconnell. But she might endanger William with her presence. She must certainly wouldn't be helping things. She was almost persuaded to try and make it back to the inn, but she knew the threat of bandits was very real. She might be a good fighter but she couldn't battle her way out of a group of more than five. Why, oh why, had she been so inattentive? Hoping that by some chance she might not meet William she stayed the night at an inn in Tyrconnell.

The next morning she was woken by a commotion outside. She rushed to the door to see what was happening. The innkeeper blocker her. "Now, milady, what goes on out there isna fitting for eyes like yours."

"What is happening?" In her alarm, she slipped into her native British accent.

He looked at her strangely. "How odd. Here, I thought you be Irish. Last night you sounded it, but mayhap I was tired. But your dress be Irish!"

"Oh!" Rowen forced a laugh. "I have been here several weeks and find myself slipping quaint little hints of Irish under my English accent. I bought the dress here which explains its Irish style." The innkeeper accepted her reason and she breathed a sigh of relief.

The innkeeper glanced at her again. "I guess it changes things, the man being your fellow countrymen and all."

"What ever are you talking about?"

"The man they have the streets, his English. They be talking of hanging him, they are."

"Why?"

"His goods were frauds or something of that sort."

An English merchant, it had to be William. "Please, I must go."

After some hesitation, the innkeeper stepped aside and Rowen hurried past him into the jammed street. Sure enough, a rather battered and bruised William was being dragged along by the crowd. His hat had been lost in the scuffle; his clothing covered in dust. Rowen caught a glimpse of his eyes and saw despair in them. For a half second, she thought about getting her horse. She would be able to push her way through the people with it. But there wasn't time.

A hush fell over the crowd. A man had gotten their attention and said, "This man is as dishonest as the rest of those rotten English! I say we hang him up from the highest tree! Whose with me?" A wild cheer rose from the crowd.

"Wait!" My shout drew the people's eyes to me. "What has this man done?" The crowd parted and let me walk towards the man and William.

"He has cheated the Irish!"

"How?"

"He sold us pot and pans that scorched our food."

Rowen raised an eyebrow. "Every one he sold did this?"

"Well, now, I canna say for sure."

"Did he promise you that they would not burn your food."

"Well, not exactly, I suppose." A few murmurs ran through the crowd.

Rowen turned to William. "Do I know you?"

"I do not think I have had the pleasure of crossing paths with you before now, milady."

"But your face is familiar to me." Rowen pretended to think, then exclaimed. "Of course! You are the man who saved one of my maids from a loose horse only a fortnight ago!"

"'Twas nothing."

"But it was quite a bit more than nothing, sir!" She raised her voice and addressed the crowd, "Good people, this man has rendered me a great service. I beg you, let him go free." An indiscernible wave of noise filled the air. Then, one-by-one, shrugging their shoulders, the people went their separate ways. The man who seemed to be the leader turned a red face to Rowen. "I be begging your pardon, milady, and yours as well, sir." He managed a bow and hurried off, leaving them alone. A silence stretched between them.

Rowen broke it, saying, "Hanging a man over burnt food! I guess it is true that the Irish have a quick temper."

"And I shall disagree with anyone who says that the Irish have much fondness for England and her people."

"I think, we should start back to the inn. We would not want the people to change their minds about you, William." She headed toward the stable for her horse.

"Rowen?"

She stopped and looked back at William. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

She smiled. "What are friends for if not to help their friends out of trouble?"

The rest of the trip was as uneventful as the first part had been eventful. They spent the voyage writing down the details of their missions to give Edward when they returned to Great Hall.

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