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She was barely in time to bid her father a final farewell. Tearful,
she kissed his cold and sweating brow. “I’m back for good, Da.”

He nodded. Explanations were unimportant now. “Your brothers
are too young for the ships yet,” he gasped weakly. “You’ve got to
take charge for me.”

It never crossed her mind that he was thrusting a huge respon-
sibility upon her. She answered simply, “I will.”

“You’re the best of them, lassie. Even the boys.”

“Oh, Da,” she whispered. “Oh, Da, I do love you!”

“Skye, lass, this time follow your heart,” were Dubhdara
O’Malley’s last words to his favorite child. He died a few minutes
later, holding her hand.

Her beautiful blue eyes overflowing, she looked wordlessly to
her uncle Seamus. “I heard him,” he said, “and I’ll uphold your
rights, Skye. You’re the new O’Malley, and may God be with you
for you’ll be needing all the help you can get.”

Skye looked to her stepmother. “I heard him, and I trust you,”
said Anne. “You’ll do right by us all. Besides, it’s your full brother
Michael who is the next male in line, not my lads.”

“In this family,” answered Skye, “it’s not necessarily the eldest,
but the most competent. At least two of your boys show more promise than Michael. He’s most like my mother, lord help him.
He’s more likely to follow Our Lord Christ than the sea. Am I not
right, Uncle?”

Seamus O’Malley nodded. “He’d asked me to talk with Dubh.
He wants to enter St. Padraic’s and become a priest.”

Skye turned to Anne. “You see. It rests with Brian and Shane
now.”

As quickly as the family of the O’Malley chief could be assem-
bled, they determined the length of the wake and the date of the
funeral. With Seamus O’Malley and Anne to back her, Skye was
reluctantly recognized as the new O’Malley by her brothers-in-law
and her very shocked sisters. Her clansmen and vassals came quickly,
almost joyfully, to pay their homage to Skye, the new O’Malley.

The next step was a journey to the MacWilliam’s stronghold to
pledge him her fealty. Only Anne, Eibhlin, and her uncle knew the
truth behind her leaving her husband. All three were horrified, but
swore to keep the secret. Seamus O’Malley added to his niece’s
mystique by claiming that she had returned home because of a dream
in which her father called her from over the waves. The men who
had sailed with her father and with her when she was a child cir-
culated once again the old tales of her bravery and skill. The
MacWilliam would have been hard pressed indeed to deny Skye her
inheritance.

She rode into his stronghold with all her captains escorting her.
Niall Burke watched her arrival from one of the towers of the castle,
and wondered what would happen between them now. She rode
astride, as she had in the old days, and upon the black stallion, Finn.
She was dressed in Lincoln green hose, over which she wore high
brown cordoba leather boots, and a mid-thigh-length doeskin jerkin
with silver buttons. Beneath the jerkin was a cream-colored silk shirt
with small pearl buttons. Her glorious blue-black hair was parted
in the center and twisted into a smooth coil at the nape of her neck.
Her gardenia skin was a little flushed. Upon her left hand he could
see a blue flash, and knew she wore the great sapphire ring that had
been her father’s seal of office.

He descended from the tower, and strode swiftly to his own
quarters. To his surprise Darragh was waiting for him. The three
years of their marriage had been a bad joke, and he rarely saw her,
let alone cohabited with her. It was obvious that she would never
conceive him a child. She had never come to him willingly, and
each time he had taken her it had been a battle in which she yielded
to the flesh and then did penance for her weakness. She had had
coarse brown robes made up for herself, robes that resembled those worn by her old religious order. She rarely bathed, believing it a
concession to the flesh. For over a year now she had spent her days
and nights in constant prayer. He no longer went near her. Her
personal habits disgusted him, and attempting to claim his rights
seemed now like raping a nun, a thing for which Niall Burke had
no taste.

He greeted her courteously, and she replied, “Lady O’Flaherty
is here to see your father, Niall. Why has she come?”

“Her father has died, Darragh, and it was his deathbed wish that
she take over his duties until her brothers are grown. She is now the
O’Malley, and she has come to pledge her fealty to her overlord.”

“And what of her husband? I have been given to understand that 
she tried to murder him and then left him, taking his sons with her.
He lies paralyzed for life with only his loyal sister to care for him.”

“Where did you obtain this information, Darragh?” He kept his
voice quiet and level.

“I have a letter from the unfortunate Lady Claire O’Flaherty
begging me to intercede with the MacWilliam on her poor brother’s
behalf.”

“I do not believe the tale, Darragh. I have never known Skye to
be anything but generous and thoughtful.”

“Those are not the qualities that made the O’Malley leave her in
charge of his small empire,” noted Darragh shrewdly. It was an
unusually sensible observation for Darragh.

“Skye would never harm anyone. I refuse to believe it!”

“Of course you do not believe it. You lust after her, but for the
sake of your immortal soul you must not yield to her wiles, Niall!”,

He laughed bitterly. “Whose wiles would you have me yield to
then, wife? Yours? Let me tell you something about Skye O’Malley,
my dear. The last time I saw her she told me she never wanted to
set eyes on me again because, through an awful quirk of fate, we
were wed to other people. I then said I would kill her husband. She
chided me, asking what I would do with my own wife, kill her also?
She said you had been as wronged as the rest of us were, and we
must all make the best of our situations. She would tempt neither 
herself nor me by seeing me again.”

“Ah! The most wicked ones are always the most clever, Niall!
She has skillfully misled you into believing her virtuous. Beware
of her! Beware!” And with a strange look in her weak blue eyes,
Darragh turned and left him.

Niall went about the business of changing his clothes. His father
had told him he wanted him there when the O’Malley swore her
fealty, for she must swear it not only to the MacWilliam, but also to his heir. He debated whether to be elegant or simple, finally
settling on black velvet because it was both.

Entering the main hall of the castle, he was surprised to find that
Skye had not changed from her riding clothes. Her captains at her
back, she knelt. Placing her hands in the old and gnarled ones of
the MacWilliam, and then into Niall’s warm firm grasp, she twice
swore her loyalty to the Burkes, then rose gracefully to accept their
kiss of peace. Lord Burke noted the pride and love flowing from the
eyes of the rough-looking O’Malley captains. That they adored her
was obvious, and he was reassured to know that she would sail with
such devoted men.

Then suddenly, to everyone’s shock and embarrassment, Darragh
appeared in their midst, her nun’s robes swirling about her, and cried
out, “My lord the MacWilliam, on behalf of the O’Flahertys of
Ballyhennessey I cry for judgment against this evil woman! Oh,
wicked whore of Babylon, your days of evil are numbered! The Lord
God will strike thee down with fire and the sword!”

Skye looked swiftly to Niall, her eyes filled with pity.

“Clear the hall, dammit!” shouted the MacWilliam, red-faced and
very angry. When all but the four of them had gone, the old man
turned on Darragh. “I hope, madam, that you have a bloody fine
explanation for this intrusion, and for your unwanted charges!”