At that it was Brian's turn to redden, and mentally he cursed himself. There was no evil in this woman's heart, he saw at once. For an instant he was confused and taken aback. Then she smiled, slowly rose, and tendered him her hand. Going to one knee, he put her fingers to his lips.
"Now sit, Yellow Brian," she said, "and let us talk. First, these captives of yours. Do you in truth bring them as a tribute? How do I know they are O'Donnell's men?"
"Ask these seamen of yours," laughed Brian, seating himself beside her. Cathbarr remained standing and leaning on his ax, looking like some giant of the old times.
She took him at his word, and when she had heard from the seamen certain tales of what cruelties the ten prisoners had done, her violet eyes suddenly turned black and an angry pallor drove across her face.
"That is enough," she interrupted curtly. "Take them out and hang them."
The men were led away, and Brian saw that her hands were tightly clenched, but whether in fury or in fear of herself he could not tell. Then she turned to him, looking straightly into his face, and on the instant Brian knew that if this girl-woman bade him go to his death, he would go, laughing.
"Tell me of yourself, Brian Buidh. Of what family are you? By the ring on your finger you are an O'Neill; yet I have heard nothing of such a man as yourself leading that sept. When your messenger came to me, I read cunning in his face, and took it for a trap set by the Dark Master; but now that I have seen you and Cathbarr of the Ax, I will take fealty from you if you wish to serve me."
Brian smiled a little.
"Serve you I would, lady, but not in fealty. I take fealty and do not give it. My name is indeed Brian Buidh, and as for that ring, it was a gift from Owen Ruadh."
"Owen Ruadh died two days since," she said softly, watching his face. "I had word of it this morning."