Dark of the Moon Read Online Free PDF Page B

and rest the pony, then ride on."
    "What about him?" Caitlyn couldn't resist asking, nodding her head in the direction the Sassenach had taken.
    "If you mean his lordship, he'll be waitin' for his meal till he gets home. He left the good nuncheon the cook at the Brazen Head packed for him for you two lads. He said you needed it more than he did, but I'll be takin' issue with that. 'Tis a fine man, is his lordship, while you be naught but a pair o' little beggars."
    "Who're you callin' beggars? You get your bread from the bloody Sassenach same as we!"
    Gaitlyn doubled her fists, bristling at the little man, but before she could attack, Willie grabbed her arms, holding her back.
    "For Chrissake, O'Malley, don't do it!" he groaned in her ear. "He'll be leavin' us out here in the middle of nowhere!"
    Caitlyn, incensed, tried to shake Willie off. Mickeen picked up a stout stick and brandished it at her.
    "Don't you be tryin' none o' that now," he warned. "Or I'll have to split your skull for ya."
    "C'mon, O'Malley. Pay the old gremlin no mfnd and let's eat. It's wantin' to leave us, he is,"
    Willie whispered, giving her a shake. Caitlyn had to admit the probable truth of that. Mickeen probably would love an excuse to leave them behind. Considering the source, she decided she could ignore a few ill-tempered words. She shook off Willie's hold, stalked over to a soft tussock of grass, and sank down upon it. Willie followed, holding the bundle of food Mickeen had given him. Mickeen watched with obvious disgruntlement, still balancing the stick in his hand. Ignoring him, the two youths fell like hungry dogs on the bread and meat and cheese they found wrapped in the cloth. After a few moments, Mickeen grudgingly put the stick down.
    Unwrapping his own package, he stood a little way apart and ate his meal with only an occasional sour look in their direction.
    "I'm for home." Licking the last crumb from his lips, Mickeen wiped his mouth on his sleeve and eyed his two unwelcome journeymates with disfavor. Willie and Caitlyn had finished eating a short while before. At Mickeen's words, they got slowly to their feet.
    Exchanging pregnant glances, they crawled back into the cart, Willie groaning and Caitlyn fighting the urge to. Mickeen climbed up after them. Unhitching the reins, he released the brake and clucked to the pony. Caitlyn winced as her bottom made its first jolting reacquaintance with the plank seat.
    "Where we headin', anyhows?" Willie, quicker to forgive and forget than Caitlyn, asked the question of Mickeen. The ostler moved his eyes over the redheaded boy looking up at him with eager curiosity, then shifted his gaze to the black-haired one scowling at the redhead. Turning his head, the little man spat over the side.
    "Donoughmore," he said.
    "Is it a town?"
    He grunted. Then, grudgingly, "Was a castle. Now it's naught but a sheep farm."
    "Does he own it?"
    "Who?"

    "The Sassenach." The words were Caitlyn's. They had slipped out of their own accord despite her wish to appear disinterested in the conversation.
    Mickeen looked at her with acute disfavor. "If you're meanin' himself up there, you're talkin' about Connor d'Arcy, his lordship the Earl o' Iveagh, and you show him some respect.
    Himself's no more a Sassenach than I be, or you. He's as Irish as the good green earth, descended from Brian Boru himself on his father's side and Owen Roe O'Neill on his mother's."
    "He's Irish?" Caitlyn's eyes widened. "But—"
    "Don't be believin' everything your eyes and ears tell you. His lordship was educated at Trinity College with the bloody Protestants at the wish of his father. He can ape their ways well enough when he needs."
    "But why . . . ?"
    "Argh, that's enough out o' you, boyo. It's not for a beggar-boy to be questioning the activities of his lordship."
    Caitlyn's eyes flashed at the description of her as a beggar-boy, but Willie nudged her in the ribs with enough force to keep her silent. She turned angry eyes on him. He