The Witch's Daughter Read online

  A small child clasped Alainn’s wrist. She glanced down at her arms. They were riddled with bruises that remained no less painful than when they were inflicted, only days before she’d fled Castle O’Brien. The young boy quickly pulled his hand away, but Alainn gently patted the wee hand and smiled reassuringly. She glanced around and breathed. As seabirds cried and waves crashed gently against the shore, she relaxed, remembering where she was and how she’d got there. She stood and took the child’s hand. A warm smile crossed his tiny face.

  He pulled her to a large group of children who immediately surrounded her, chattering and dancing while the sun shone brightly, warming the sea breeze. Her long, sun-kissed locks fell freely down her back, and she squished warm sand between her bare toes. She lifted the small child and swung him onto her back. He laughed, clinging tightly to her neck as she carted him around.

  Alainn recalled the glorious afternoon they had spent in the bright sunshine before it had lulled her to sleep. They had played on the beach, collected shells and spent hours wading in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. She reveled in the scent of the salty ocean breezes and gazed admiringly at the beauty of Galway Bay. After all the many mishaps she had faced earlier this day, she welcomed the chance to feel carefree for a time. But too soon, thoughts of Castle O’Brien intruded in her mind.

  She had spent all of her ten and seven years at the castle, being raised by the old healer, Morag. She had learned the craft well from the aged woman and become healer to the O’Briens and their clan. Though she had not led a life of privilege, she had been given many opportunities denied those of lowly birth. She could read and write as she had been allowed time with a scholar, which was a most unusual occurrence for a girl-child of any station. Throughout her life, she had spent much time with the chieftain’s family, his wife, Lady Siobhan, and his twin sons, Rory and Riley.

  She had also fallen hopelessly in love with the chieftain’s nephew, Killian O’Brien. It was certain that many a maiden before her had lost their heart to him, the handsome, stalwart, and courageous champion. His grandness was inescapable, and his charm and appeal unmatched by any man in and around Castle O’Brien. And Killian was deeply in love with Alainn.

  They had been friends as children. She had healed him after his father’s castle had been invaded and he had been gravely injured, not expected to live. Their love and admiration had grown through the years, and they began a relationship that she had known well enough could not end without heartache. But, she’d felt Killian’s love was worth it.

  It was Killian who had begun to desire unrealistic possibilities, who wanted to spend his life with her. Although she wanted nothing more than to be with him forever, she knew he must fulfill his destiny. He was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps, to become chieftain to his mother’s clan. It had always been enormously important to him.

  He revealed to his uncle, the O’Brien, his intention to abdicate his rights to the chieftainship to marry a commoner. After learning her identity, the infuriated earl lashed out in response, attempting to rape her. It was then, in her great state of fear and uncertainty, she revealed her supernatural powers. The chieftain’s priest, a man far from holy and without a conscience, had also been witness to her abilities. It was a most grievous occurrence, and now her time at Castle O’Brien would never be peaceful again.

  Knowing their continued relationship could only cause Killian pain, she had chosen to leave. She could not allow him to lose his birthright or put himself in danger by going against his uncle’s wishes. It was not a risk she would take.

  The children’s laughter pulled Alainn from her worrisome thoughts, and a child splashed her. She lifted her foot and kicked the water, spraying the slender girl, leaving them all nearly breathless with laughter. Alainn shifted the small boy on her back, and her mind returned to her troubles.

  Recently Alainn had discovered she was not the farrier’s daughter, as she had always believed, but the daughter of Mara, the Glade Witch, a woman who had cursed the entire O’Brien line. Years earlier, the witch had been brutally raped by Hugh O’Brien’s father, and in retaliation, she placed a curse upon him, a hex so powerful that the wretched man’s entire line would soon die out. No further children survived their birth to any of the old man’s six sons after the curse was uttered. Babies were stillborn or lived mere hours.

  The witch had caused great hardship and tragedy for the O’Briens, and she was despised by the lot of them, Killian included. If he should ever learn the truth of Alainn’s parentage, he would surely abhor her as well.

  Mara had revealed it might be reversed if the conditions of the curse were met and Alainn accepted as nobility. But, she held little hope. Her mother claimed she was the daughter of an important chieftain, that the amulet Alainn was given at birth had once belonged to him. Mara had hidden a part of it in the walls of the dungeon many months before Alainn’s birth. If she could locate it, it would be proof enough, for it bore the crest of her father’s family.

  Although Alainn did not trust Mara completely, she would have little to gain by creating such an elaborate falsehood. Alainn had ventured near the doorway of the dungeon to see if her powers of perception could help locate the missing piece, but to no avail. The dungeon was undoubtedly an unpleasant location that held many gruesome and disparaging memories. As she started down the dimly lit winding steps, she had sensed a presence truly dark and nefarious. Perhaps an unsettled spirit that had met its cruel fate there. Never before had she felt pure evil. Her heart began beating unnaturally fast. Her skin became clammy. She could go no further. How was she to locate her father’s family crest in the dungeon if such a malevolent being dwelled within its depths?

  And now, Alainn carried Killian’s child; a child surely ill-fated by her own mother’s curse. For the sake of the child, she must prove her paternity, but she was uncertain how to begin. If she could protect herself from the threats of Hugh O’Brien and his malicious priest, she might find a way to end the curse. If she distanced herself from Killian, her head might be able to think more clearly. Her magical powers might become manageable.

  Yet, the mere thought of spending time apart from Killian caused her heart to ache. And, at present he was off collecting the woman who was to become his wife.

  Alainn roused herself from her memories and glanced at the sweet faces of the children around her. The warm waves licked her ankles, and the sea breeze gently consoled her. As the children’s laughter and pleasant chatter lulled her, she fell back into her thoughts.

  Chapter Three

  “Would you have me sleep on the street, then?”

  “Alainn, I have only coin for one room,” Cookson complained. “Sure, ye can’t be intendin’ to stay with Pierce and me. Not in the same room!”

  When she’d seen Cookson leaving Castle O’Brien in the cart to collect supplies in the city that day, she’d taken the opportunity to escape and jumped into the back of the wagon. Cookson and Pierce, the captain of the guard’s son, had attempted to discourage her, but she would not be dissuaded. Once they arrived in Galway, they were reluctant to share a room with her.

  “I suppose it would please you if we were to sleep out on the street?” Pierce snapped impatiently.

  “At the moment, Pierce, I shouldn’t care if I sleep on the floor or in the same bed as the two of you. I simply wish for a place to lay my weary head.”

  They realized there would be no reasoning with the young woman. Once settled in the small bedchamber, however, the two young men remained ill at ease, their faces ruddy with uncertainty and embarrassment at sharing a room with her.

  “You can both stop acting so confoundedly awkward. I have known you lads all my life and consider you to be my valued friends. On the morrow, when I am warmed and rested, when my mind is clearer, I will seek employment and shelter.”

  “And what of Killian?” Pierce asked brusquely.

  “What of him? He’s off fetching his intended.”

  “So you will s
imply disappear from his life without explanation? He will surely search for you.”

  “Aye, Killian is a determined man, and he well loves you,” Cookson agreed.

  “I will write a letter of farewell to him. I shall tell him I am most pleased he will soon marry a noble woman, someone who is his equal. I shall insist he has my blessing and my good wishes. I will encourage him to leave Castle O’Brien and go off to rule as chieftain of his mother’s clan. And I will explain I have ambitions of my own. It will surely dissuade him from searching for me. You’ll deliver the letter for me, won’t you, Cookson?”

  “I am not certain I care for that task, Alainn. But, aye, I will do so.”

  Her deep sigh was audible. She retrieved a small portion of paper and a quill pen from within the pocket of her frock, sat down on the bed, and began composing the letter.

  “What are these ambitions you speak of?” Pierce demanded, interrupting her.

  “Perhaps I will set off by ship to a far-off land,” she mused.

  “You couldn’t!” Cookson blurted. “It wouldn’t be safe!”

  “An unmarried woman cannot travel alone, it is unheard of! You couldn’t board a ship unaccompanied, a young...beaut­iful...wo­man,” Pierce stammered. “You would be accosted, violated. Would that not be considerably less appealing than being forced to wed someone you don’t care for?”

  “But it’s to be the swine handler or the aged Widower McLean,” Cookson reminded him. “They are the O’Brien’s choices for her.”

  “Well, you could marry her then, Cookson. Or I—” his young face flushed deep red. He cleared his throat and tried to avert his eyes from the bed.

  Perhaps if she had been feeling less miserable, she would have found humor or gratefulness in the young man’s offer, but she felt neither.

  “Though your generously charitable offer is very much appreciated, Pierce,” she said, her voice chilly, “I will not be marrying anyone. Only when or if I should ever desire it.”

  They left her to her dark mood and the unpleasant task of inking Killian’s letter, and hovered near the doorway. Tears slid slowly down her cheeks as she wrote the words of farewell to her only love. She dabbed at her eyes, neatly folded the paper, and handed it to Cookson. He kindly passed her his handkerchief.

  “But in seriousness, Alainn, where will you go?” he asked, his voice tender with concern. “We’ll all miss you. What shall we do without our healer?” Alainn affectionately patted his round cheek.

  “I am confident the chieftain’s new physician will be most adequate in his abilities.” Cookson’s face told her he believed otherwise.

  “I shall worry much regarding your safety, Alainn.”

  “Sure I will find employment in an alchemist’s shop. I am told there are more than a few here. My knowledge of herbs, potions, and remedies is vast. I am confident I will manage to provide for myself, should I choose to stay in this city.”

  “It is my understanding that many young women alone in a city are forced to seek shelter and employment in a brothel,” Pierce cautioned.

  She did not respond, nor glance at the two men, but wearily chose a pillow and blanket from the bed, and slowly lowered herself down on the chair, hoping to finally rest. The young men insisted she take the bed and pulled their chairs near the window. She might well have offered them the bed, for she slept not a wink, weeping every time she allowed herself to dwell on being forever parted from Killian.

  She thought even now, as she stood on the beach, her swollen eyes bore the evidence of her many tears. She hoped Pierce had finally given up his search for her and gone to meet Cookson. Surely they would have left the city by now.

  The sun was moving westward, and it was time for the children to think about going home. Two parents came to fetch their children and offered her coins for keeping them occupied all day. She had not known where she would spend this night and thought there may now be enough coin to pay for a room at an inn. Her mood suddenly lighter, she hummed a tune as she and the children skipped their way toward the wharf.

  As they got closer, Alainn saw a cluster of people on the docks surveying the fishing vessels in the harbor. They were finely dressed and obviously of wealth and position. A middle-aged man and woman walked arm in arm. Upon seeing the remainder of the crowd, Alainn turned abruptly, lowered her head, and began walking in the other direction. The children followed her without breaking stride, clearly thinking it was a new game. Her heart beat at an unhealthy rate, and she quickened her pace. Finally she was clear of the group and looked up. Pierce was heading straight toward her, his face dark with anger and frustration.

  “Pierce!” she hissed. “Why have you not left with Cookson?”

  “He has not set off yet! He’s awaiting our return!” he shouted.

  “Shhh!” she shushed loudly, moving toward him and lowering her voice. “I told you I have no intention of returning with you. Go to where you are to meet him and be gone. Sure your father and Cook will be fit to be tied.”

  “We have agreed we cannot leave you here in this city alone. ’Tis a dangerous place for anyone, most especially a woman.”

  “I am not alone, Pierce. I will be kept safe.”

  “And you believe these wee wains are going to keep you safe from harm then?” he demanded, his voice rising with his anger.

  He looked past her to the docks, and his face softened with relief. Alainn lunged for his hand, but it was too late. He waved enthusiastically and called out to them. Alainn started walking quickly away from him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the docks, the young boy still clamped to her back.

  When she resisted, he became most displeased and snarled, “Alainn McCreary, we are taking this matter to Killian. You know well enough what his opinion will be. You’ll not be stayin’ here in the city alone!”

  Alainn had never heard Pierce use such a sharp, demanding tone with anyone before, and certainly not with her since he’d taken a fancy to her years ago. The children immediately came to her defense. One of the young boys kicked him hard in the shin with his bare foot. Two others joined in. Another leapt upon his back punching him in earnest, while a small girl grabbed hold of his hair with both hands and pulled with a mighty fury. Pierce let go of Alainn’s arm, yelping in pain, trying to dislodge the children.

  “You wee buggers, what are you about?”

  “Don’t you hurt our Lainna!” one child lisped. Alainn closed her eyes. Only Killian had ever referred to her by that fond name.

  As the children continued with their attack on Pierce, the young boy on Alainn’s back leaned over and threw himself upon Pierce. His legs, still tucked safely in place, unbalanced him. He missed Pierce altogether and pulled Alainn with him to the ground. They landed with a thud as a sizeable wave crashed over them. Alainn held onto the boy as the wave tried to pull them back into its depths, her scream drowning in a mouthful of briny water. She came up coughing and sputtering, spitting sand and seawater. The child shook off her hands and scampered onto the beach.

  Alainn glared at Pierce and flushed with anger. She picked up a large handful of the wet sand and threw it at him. The children delighted in this and, amid peals of laughter, splashed the young man with feet and hands, hurling fistfuls of sand and pushing him farther into the water.

  “Stop it, ye wee hooligans!” Pierce ordered, but his fury was clearly directed toward Alainn. “Make them stop this at once!” In reply, Alainn grabbed more sand and aimed for his face. Pierce swept her legs out from under her.

  “Pierce? Alainn? Whatever are you doing?”

  It was Rory, one of the chieftain’s sons. He was crouched at the end of the pier, looking down on them with amusement. “Children, that’s enough,” he said with authority. The children stopped their splashing and ran to stand behind Alainn and Pierce.

  Alainn managed to get to her feet with little dignity and half-heartedly brushed dirt from her sodden clothes. Her hair was dripping wet and matted with sand. She gingerly removed a pi
ece of seaweed from across her face and attempted to smile. Her teeth were caked with grit. She coughed and spat sand from her mouth.

  “My word, the wee urchins are filthy! And the entire lot of them wears no shoes, not even that young woman!”

  Alainn looked past Rory and her face flamed red at the sight before her. Rory was not alone. Behind, at a safer distance on the pier, stood the older couple with a young woman. They watched her with unhidden disapproval. Riley was with them, accompanying another young woman. Both women had bright red hair and matching snooty expressions. As they leaned in to whisper to each other, Killian was revealed, his betrothed on his arm. It was the woman from Alainn’s dreams.

  She was tall, willowy in form, with lovely dark curly hair, and she was indisputably beautiful. Alainn met Killian’s eyes and found she could no longer breathe. She turned swiftly toward the children. Pierce had yet to answer Rory’s query.

  One of the redheads made a sound of disgust as she glanced at the children. “Look at their clothes; they are scarcely better than rags!” Her sister giggled nastily.

  Alainn turned back, stepping forward to give her opinion of their rudeness, when Killian’s intended walked closer. Alainn looked down in embarrassment.

  “That looks most enjoyable, walking on the sandy seashore with no shoes,” the woman said in a thick Scottish brogue. “Why, I haven’t done that since I was a wee child! How I would love to do so again. Or maybe even a swim, the water looks lovely and appealing.”

  “Sure no one will stop you if you wish to join us.” The impulsive words were out of Alainn’s mouth before she had thought them through. She began to untangle her lengthy locks, eyes lowered.