He left the inn and rode back to his camp, where he had the men on the road in ten minutes. Tobercurry was only fifteen miles north, and putting his horses to a gallop, Brian rode hard and fast until that afternoon he came into the place. He found no garrison, but, instead, was met by old Turlough himself, with a bandaged head and two wounded men.
"Mile failte!" cried Turlough joyously, running forward to kiss Brian's hand in wild delight. "You are well come, master! Is all well down below?"
"All well, old friend," laughed Brian, swinging down to clasp the old man in his arms. "Where is the Dark Master?"
"Where we shall catch him in a forked stick presently," chuckled Turlough, wagging his beard. "Get these wild men of yours out of the town, and come into the inn with me to talk. I have all the Dark Master's plans, master, and we have only to strike."
Brian ordered his men to camp a mile outside town and to do no plundering, so they clattered off, to the great relief of the townfolk.
"Now," said Brian, when they two were sitting across a table, "what has passed that you are bound up? Have you been fighting?"
"Well, after a fashion," grimaced Turlough disgustedly. "I was here ahead of the Dark Master, and raised the townpeople against him for a plunderer. When he came up the road was full of men; but the devil slew two and wounded two of my own men, cut his way through the rest, and as I fled north my horse flung me and bruised my head. Has the castle fallen?"
"Yes," laughed Brian, and related what had happed at Bertragh. "Have I time to bide here and eat?"
Turlough yeasaid this and sent the inn-master bustling for food and wine. When this was set before them, Turlough Wolf told his tale, beginning with the statement that two of O'Donnell's men had been captured when he cut through the townfolk and rode off.
"Where are they?" asked Brian quickly, his eyes narrowing.