Infinite Devotion (35 page)

“Redmond O’Hanlon has not robbed you. Make sure to tell everyone that.” I swing myself over the saddle and turn Ghost to get one last good look at Muirin. I tip my tricorn hat to her and say, “Welcome to bandit country,” and take off in the other direction.

I meet Art at the tavern and order a pint.

“Where’ve you been all day?” Art asks.

“Oh, just came this close to taking out St. John, but the timing was off.” I shake my head.

“You’ll get your chance one day.” He takes a drink.

“Well, it’s no matter since I met a freckled angel today.”

His eyes perk up. “Angel, you say? Where’d she come from?”

“Fresh from the ferry. I robbed her carriage on Newry Road.”

“You robbed her!” He starts laughing. “Always a good way to make an impression on a woman!”

“Of course I didn’t rob
her
. I only robbed the English gents she was with.” I take a drink and wipe the foam from my mouth and finish, “Sweet, sweet Muirin.”

“Muirin, you say?” Art looks up. “I know a Muirin. I worked their farms right after you left for France. I’d bring her pony out for her to ride. Think it’s the very same one?”

“Has your Muirin got copper hair, brown eyes, and little sweet freckles?”

He nods. “That’s her for sure. Pretty little thing, she is.” He seems deep in thought. “She always thanked me and even knew my name.”

“She knows your name! Well, let’s go, then. Get your hat. You’re taking me to speak to her.”

“Redmond, she’s from a wealthy old Irish family that still has all their lands. We’d never get past the door!”

“Well, then, we won’t use the door.”

I leave a whole guinea for the barkeep, and he says with a gentle nod, “Always good to see you, O’Hanlon.”

I nod back, but then remember. “Oh, Sean, did I hear your Ma’s sick?”

“Sure, she’s been having a fever for more than a week.”

I put two more guineas in his hand. “Take her to the good doctor for me, would you? She was so kind to my Ma when I was away.”

He takes the guineas graciously. “Oh, she’ll be stronger by supper now, Redmond. Many thanks.”

We walk out, and I let Art’s grey carry the way.

Even in the dying light, I can see her father’s manor is a grand English-style stone mansion up on the knoll overlooking paddocks full of beautiful thoroughbreds of every color.

“So what’s your plan?” Art asks at the edge of the woods.

“I don’t have one,” I say as I gallop around the edge of the woods behind the paddocks, causing the horses within to neigh and run with my Cashel.

I watch the house from behind the bushes and notice the candles lit in what looks to be the dining room. I see her pass the large window. “There she is!”

Art and I follow the glow as it lights up the small windows of the stairs, and the light reappears again in the window at the far right.

“There ’tis!” I say as I take off across the field.

I head to the ash tree that reaches toward her window and stand on Ghost’s back to get into it to climb. I crawl as far as I can down the branch before it starts drooping dangerously with my weight. I look in the glowing window as she fills her washbowl from an ironstone pitcher. She ties her thick hair back with a pink silk ribbon and leans over to splash water on her face.

I fight a moment of wanting to see what she will do next, but the good Catholic in me wins over the urge. I take some shillings I have out of my pocket and throw them at her window. I notice Art’s running around below, trying to pick up each one. Nothing happens until I throw the ninth one, and then she appears with her hands cupped around her face to see out in the faded twilight. When she catches a glimpse of me with my tricorn hat, she jumps back. I freeze for a moment, hoping she doesn’t start hollering and running out the door for help, and to my happiness, she opens the window slowly.

“Highwayman, is that you?” she says in Gaelic with a smile on her face.

“Call me Redmond.” I try to get closer on the branch, but it starts to bend, so I inch back.

“Decided to come back for the £100?” she jeers.

“Well, my brother Art, here, says he knew you. Brought you your pony, he did.”

She looks down out the window, and Art waves awkwardly to her. She smiles and waves back. “Art, where did you go? You never returned.”

“I found a more lucrative business.” He laughs.

She glances over at me. “I see you have.”

“So, I just wanted to come to be sure you arrived home safe. These roads can be mighty dangerous with all those rapperees around.”

She laughs. “No, I only came across one ruffian on the journey home.”

“You never can be too careful, then. Although you were traveling with two pretty valiant bodyguards, there.”

Her laugh’s melodious and light. “I noticed.”

Art whispers as loud as he can, “Redmond, better not tarry!”

“I thank you for making sure I’ve arrived home in one piece, and I wish you both well in all of your adventures.” Her white teeth glow in the purple light.

“Well, good-night and good morrow, sweetheart.” I tip my hat. “But it may be I will see you again.”

She smiles again, closes the windows, and draws the curtains, taking her glow with it.

“Come on down, cupid,” Art says.

When I hang on the last branch, I drop squarely on my saddle, and Ghost takes off at a trot.

“That went rather well!” I say, smiling, but I notice Art is not.

Chapter 8

’Tis a full moon on a clear night, and we decide to go toward Markethill. We’re taking a path beside the road when we hear gunshots up ahead. Ghost slows at once at the sound, and Art says, “We better head back to Newry.”

But in the moonlight, I see the form of a tall man on a delicate but large thoroughbred galloping toward us on the road. “We better stay put. Whatever ’tis, it’s coming fast.”

Shots are fired, and at least three men are galloping after one, and by their hats, I guess they are militia. The chased man spins around, and without any gun or pistol in his hands, he turns and charges straight at the men with a guttural yell. ’Tis so unexpected that the men turn their horses around mid-gallop and spin in circles as the man comes with his sword up in the air. The three men try to flee in the other direction as the dark man rushes up behind one of them and hits the man on his back. The soldier screams in agony as he slumps over on his horse.

The dark man turns his horse fluidly and tries to escape again, but the two relentless soldiers take chase. Aggravated, the dark man’s horse rears as the man pulls it back to charge once again. One of the brazen soldiers lifts his sword high and keeps charging. When they come to pass, the soldier swings to hit the dark man but misses, and the exceptional dark rider turns so quickly he’s able to hit the soldier from behind, causing the man to fall from his horse at great speed. The man lies injured on the ground. The other soldier stays his distance, still shooting at him.

The dark man rears back and screams, “Fall back if you know what’s good for you!”

The soldier puts his gun down and walks his horse backwards. The dark man kicks his horse to gallop back down the road.

“Come on, Art!” I say as I try to catch up with him.

The man hears my horse in the woods. He slows and gets his sword back out. “Who goes there?”

I don’t say anything but decide to appear out of the woods with my hands up.

“Are you following me?”

“No sir, I just wanted to compliment you on your fine riding back there. Really something to see.”

“And who might you be, out in the woods this late?”

“Redmond O’Hanlon.”

“O’Hanlon, you say? I have heard some about you.”

“What do you go by?”

“Some call me Galloping Hogan.”

“Well, I can see why.” I laugh and try to walk Ghost closer to see his face.

At the sound of a stick snapping in the woods, he asks, “Have you another with you?”

“My brother, Art. We were headed back to our campsite. The moon’s too bright to sneak up on anyone tonight. Would you like to join us?”

He considers it for a moment. “No harm in it, I guess, seeing as I’m having an unlucky night and all.”

Once I ride beside Art again, he asks, “Why for?”

“We’re forming a gang.” I wink.

Once Galloping Hogan’s in league with us, we all go out separately for small robberies and meet back at a predetermined spot to regroup and hide our plunder. I recruit my old friends Brian Kelly, Shane Berragh, Paul Liddy, and “Strong” John MacPherson, but I’m always on the lookout for more men.

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I see his red hair from a quarter of a mile away. I walk Ghost back behind a bush before the man can see me. As he canters by, I rush out with Ghost at top speed and have my pistol at his head by the time he turns to see me.

“Stop your horse!” I say.

He pulls his horse back, and we both stand there in the road. He wears white silk from head to toe, and about as many ruffles as a woman would have. On top of his carrot-orange head rests a white tricorn hat with a large white plume sticking back.

I yell, “Keep your hands on your reins, and you won’t get shot!”

As I put my hands in the deep bags thrown over his horse, I pull out one heavy bag of coins.

“Please, sir, I am but a peddler that has sold my master’s fine goods at the fair. He has threatened my life if I return with one shilling missing.”

He even sounds like a woman.

“Just tell him Redmond O’Hanlon has robbed you. I’ve got a reputation in these parts.”

“Oh, no, sir, he won’t believe I’ve been robbed. He’ll think I took everything for myself,” he says with his thin brows pinched together.

“That’s not my problem.” I put the money in my saddlebags and get back on.

“Please, I beg you, will you please make some sort of sign that I have been robbed?”

“A sign?” I pull one side of my lip up.

“I’ve got it.” He starts unbuttoning his fine coat and holds one side out far from his body. “Shoot a hole through my coat, I beg you.”

I let a quick breath out. “Fine.”

I shoot clear through the middle, leaving a small tear. His horse jumps at the close sound.

“Please, sir, one more to show that I have really put up a fight.” He holds out the other side of his coat.

I take out the other loaded pistol I have on my belt and shoot.

He laughs. “And one more for good measure!” He throws his fluffy hat high in the air. I pull out the last pistol I keep hidden in my pants and hit it just before it touches the ground. I laugh at the game, look back at him, and he has a pistol pointed straight at my head.

He voice suddenly drops much lower, and I realize it has been an act the whole time. I still have my gun on him, though, and I say, “Well, I guess we’ll find out who is a better shot, then.”

“Well, I think that ’twould be me, considering you didn’t reload.”

He dismounts and comes over. “I’m taking everything back and then some. Get down off your horse.”

“You can take everything I have in the saddle bags, but leave me be.”

“I don’t want to bring you in. I just had to prove myself to you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m done peddling goods. I want to join your gang. I knew if I got you at your own game, you’d take me along.”

I laugh. “You planned this all, dandy?”

“Every bit. I even followed you down the woods there from town this morning, just to be sure you’d notice me.”

“In that outfit, how could I miss you? I could have been miles away and seen you coming.”

“True, true. I have come out in my finest.” He straightens a lapel proudly.

“Well, shake my hand, then, and let me go introduce you to the men. What do you want to be called?”

“Pedlar Bawn,” he says regally.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

I still need the help of one more bandit that I’ve heard is working in my woods. I ask around and get word that Ned of the Hill has robbed only a mile from the village. I get on Ghost and ride off to find him. We venture to the most remote part of the road and sure enough, a man cuts me off at the pass and tells me to, “Stand and deliver!” in very good English.

I can really use another man who speaks English on my team.

I put my hands up and say, “I’ve come looking for you.”

“You’ve come looking for me?” He scoffs, rolls his ice-blue eyes, and says, “And how do you know who I am?”

“You’re Ned of the Hill, and the name’s O’Hanlon.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Why for would I be lying?”

“I hear he’s six feet tall, as able as an ox, and a grand athlete.”

“I’m most definitely a grand athlete,” I say with a smug grin.

He takes his flintlock down and dismounts. “All right, toe to toe, then.”

I walk to the side of the road on nice, even ground. We stare at each other for a moment, and then he comes at me. I know right away he’s scrappier than he looks. He has me on the defensive almost the entire time. He’s quick. Anytime I start to get some good hits in, he knocks me hard and moves out of range. He dodges and comes back quick. We fight like this for a good twenty minutes until he gives me such a wallop under the chin that it knocks me to the ground.