A Witch's Life Page 4

  “I don’t believe your preposterous falsehoods.”

  “Why then would there be only four? They always travel in packs of thirteen,” she said knowing the god was becoming increasingly alarmed and flustered.

  He turned to toss his spear at the canines, but they soon disappeared before his eyes as the spear fell to the floor, and Alainn attempted to keep from smiling in satisfaction at his befuddlement.

  “You attempt to trick me woman! For that I shall keep you here for the rest of your life! I swear it shall be so. I will come to gaze upon you every day until one day your beauty will be no more. You shall remain imprisoned till you are ancient and withered never again to cast your eyes upon another human. I shall take much delight in seeing it.””

  Alainn was becoming steadily more infuriated and must do something to deter the god from following through with this unpleasant threat.

  “You would not desire to keep me here to look upon if you lack the ability to see!”

  He stared at her with reprehension.

  “That is not within your power!”

  “Would you care to take the risk? The spell of sightlessness is one easily enough managed by many a witch, much less someone from the line of Aine. Some are temporary spells, others remain for all time. There is indisputable truth in my words. Shall we put my abilities to the test?”

  She smiled wickedly at the god as he angrily lunged toward her.

  Chapter Five

  Alainn stood drenched and shivering. She called upon the warm wind to dry her soaked, dripping garments and her long wet hair. She sighed, and finally dared to take a breath in relief. She’d dealt the god a harsh, but necessary punishment. Coventina was now safely back with her family and Alainn had joyfully witnessed the happy reunion between the twin sisters. The mer-people swore once again they would be forever in her debt and that should Alainn ever require their assistance, they would gladly come to her aid.

  The kelpies had returned to their true form. She’d released them from any connection to humans or gods. They’d playfully swum off to wherever they had once dwelled before Mac Lir placed the dark charm upon them. Enbarr had thankfully not been their evening meal and at present the horse was standing near the clearing, apparently perfectly content to simply munch on the verdant grass. Alainn inhaled deeply, longing to simply put this night’s recent peril and unpleasantness far behind her.

  Earlier this evening she had adamantly vowed to Killian she would not soon return to their castle, but after the unsettling encounter with Mac Lir, she would have given much to be safely settled back in her warm bed in their bedchamber. However, she had only to recall her fury at seeing Killian and Ciara together, pleasantly conversing and sharing a drink, to envision Ciara reaching out to fondly caress Killian’s hand, to remain resolute in her decision. But that being concluded, she wasn’t remotely certain where she would lay her head this night. Therefore, she’d set off in search of her grandfather. She prayed she would be comforted and advised by his always steadfast wisdom and gentle demeanor.

  She gleaned he would be found at the druid celebration he hosted the evening of Samhain. She’d simply searched for the largest oak grove in the area. Druids possessed a great affinity for oak trees and believed them to be sacred. They held them in great esteem for their strength and endurance, but also because they believed their branches reached even into the skies of the beyond and their roots to mystical portals. There were many of the belief that somewhere within the oak forests these portals to other realms could be found as well as the entryway to the otherworld. Druids were known to eat fallen acorns as a way of divining the future.

  From the music, voices, and laughter coming from within the grove, Alainn had fallen upon the correct location.

  Now that she was here alone and in no longer in immediate danger, her thoughts soon returned to the maudlin woefulness she’d experienced for weeks now... each time she allowed herself to dwell upon the devastating loss of their wee son. Before this night, it had been weeks since she’d even dared to step out of her chambers. She’d attempted to deaden all emotions for she feared she was unable to bear the wretched sorrow and overwhelming guilt after their baby had died. She had refused most visitations from others no matter how well meaning and compassionate the intentions. She saw only Danhoul and her friend, Eireen, the castle’s steward’s wife.

  She and Killian had become like strangers, instead of sharing their deep sorrow or consoling one another, they had grown further and further apart. They scarcely spoke. She had fallen into a desolate, lonely place and Killian seemed to avoid her whenever possible. She wasn’t certain what to do to close the huge chasm that had developed between them. Certainly leaving Killian and telling him she wouldn’t come back until he sent Ciara away wasn’t the best strategy for them to find a way back to one another, but perhaps being apart for a time might allow her to come to terms with her loss in her own way. Being an empath, she often felt the physical and emotional pain of others especially those closest to her heart. At the very least, being apart from him she would possibly no longer feel Killian’s pain, as well as her own.

  The Celtic music pulled her from her dismal thoughts as she peered around the large oak, now adequately offering concealment, and looked upon the celebration taking place. She had never attended a druid ceremony of any type and wasn’t certain what she’d expected, but it was most certainly not what she saw now. She had read many of her Aunt Siobhan’s various mystical books and had on occasion spoken to her grandfather regarding the topic, so she was not without knowledge of druidism. No druid sects had been located near Castle O’Brien so she’d never had the opportunity to partake in a druid celebration before. Druids were humans, some with supernatural abilities; others with only an understanding of druidism as a spiritual belief system, but with no claim to actual magic.

  When the Roman Catholic church brought Christianity to Ireland many centuries earlier, druidism had been looked down upon and many of its practices, which had predated Christianity by nearly two millennia, had been shunned. Now it seemed uncertain what rituals had actually once been part of druidism, what had been grossly exaggerated by the Catholic priests, and what had simply been imagined and embellished for the sake of frightening people into staying clear of any religion bar Christianity.

  Alainn had, of course, heard various accounts of druids partaking in human sacrifice and other barbaric rituals that would surely frighten even herself if they held truth. As she gazed upon the many humans all donned in white robes and drinking wine, she believed it was little different than any other celebration. Although when she looked and listened closer still to those who kept to the perimeters of the forest, she realized why those of rigid Christian faith would find this difficult to accept.

  Many were entirely filled with drink and behaving in an uncommonly uninhibited manner. Several were scantily clad and some entirely without garments, but for the odd masks they wore. More than one couple was in the act of physical joining, barely concealed behind trees or bushes, though no one else appeared to notice or think of it as unusual. The primal sounds of their combined pleasure and passion caused her to blush, and she soon turned away.

  Alainn remained standing behind the tree and temporarily distracted herself by attempting to dry her waist-length wet hair. She had plaited it, but it remained wet from her earlier evening encounter. She once more called upon a warm wind to dry her chemise and her white robe, but she was displeased to see they remained almost transparent. As she glanced down at her breasts, they were nearly completely visible through the light fabric. She caused the warm wind to blow directly upon her and soon the garments were nearly dry.

  She shook her head and inhaled deeply, once again musing on the happenings earlier this night. In her jealous enragement, she had impulsively used her powers to leave the despicable Ciara in a benumbed and immobile state. After she’d quarreled with Killian and left the castle, she’d longed to experience a calm night without further incident.
Clearly it had not proven to be so.

  Alainn pushed the thoughts from her mind. Ignoring the couples within the trees, she became intent on noting all the happenings in the open clearing. There were torches, bonfires, and lanterns positioned all around, though the light from the full moon sufficiently illuminated the clearing. There were numerous tables lined with a wide abundance and variety of food and drink.

  There were several couples dancing together, both male and female and two women or two men as well. Alainn thought it refreshing druids didn’t appear to be as judgmental or intolerant of such happenings as their Christian neighbors. Once again, some people were clothed and others not, yet apparently no one took heed of the fact they were unclothed.

  There were hogs and venison roasting upon spits. Using her magical powers, Alainn was able to envision a druid ceremony that took place earlier this night when the hogs and stags had been sacrificed. Thankfully, Alainn was reasonably certain they were the only creatures that had been sacrificed this night.

  She recognized very few of the people in attendance, but she was undeniably stunned to see Maire O’Donnel in the crowd. The unpleasant woman had always claimed to be entirely Christian and seemed indubitably prudish. She had been critical and unkind to Alainn since their first meeting shortly after Alainn had moved to Castle O’Donnel.

  The woman now stood stark naked, but for an absurd golden mask that made her appear animalistic in nature. At present she was fawning over a much younger man who also wore few garments. Alainn thought she’d now witnessed quite enough of this peculiar celebration.

  It was fortunate she and Killian hadn’t come together for it would have made it more than awkward, given the present state of their marriage. They hadn’t so much as touched in the past weeks, much less shared a bed or physical intimacy. Alainn’s cheeks colored at the remembrance of the heated passion they had once shared. She could not allow herself to dwell on those torrid and endearing memories, the times she had believed she and Killian would share for a life time. Once more, tears threatened to fall and she must distract herself from her sorrow and uncertainty.

  She had yet to locate her grandfather. Perhaps that was just as well, for she had no desire to happen upon him without garments or, worse still, in the act of coitus, though she couldn’t imagine him so doing when he still mourned the lost his cherished wife who’d passed on only moons ago. When her eyes searched the crowd for her grandfather to no avail, Alainn had decided she would simply locate Enbarr and leave this undesirable gathering. Perhaps together they would find another fairy glade, one without mer-people in need of one of their own being rescued from a controlling god of the sea.

  However, she had to admit the peaceful Celtic music here was lovely and soothing. The music from the many harps, fiddles, pipes, and tin whistles filled the still night air and called to her. Druids were often allotted the gift of uncommonly remarkable musical abilities and she felt mesmerized and lulled into a calmness she hadn’t felt in some time. When a young woman with a particularly lovely singing voice began a familiar ballad, Alainn thought she would perhaps stay long enough to listen to just this one song. She stepped from behind the tree to listen more closely. A serving woman came by with a tray filled with goblets of wine. She passed one to Alainn and she took a sip. It was mead wine. How lovely and sweet it was!

  Mead wine was widely believed to enhance virility and fertility. Eibhein, the midwife at Castle O’Donnel, and Alainn’s mother, Mara had both told her they believed it was unlikely she would ever conceive again, due to the many grave maladies she had suffered during childbirth and the severe fever and purulence she’d suffered afterwards. Perhaps that was her just punishment for allowing her child to be put in mortal danger that had inevitably caused his death. Since they had lost the child Killian had seemed distant and showed no interest in intimacy. She had simply disallowed all thoughts of physical desire to enter her mind. She had no notion why those thoughts seemed to be coming to her so frequently this night. Perhaps it was the mead, but the drink also warmed her, and she had felt so undeniably cold these past weeks. When she saw another servant carrying a tray, she took another goblet, and soon another and another.

  Her head began to spin and her thoughts grow muddled, but she no longer was experiencing the agonizingly familiar ache within her heart she’d felt since they’d lost their babe or the fury from when she’d seen Killian and Ciara comfortably sharing a drink together this night. The sound of the music was making her feel undeniably mellow. She hoped to locate her grandfather and perhaps ask him what advice he would give her on how best to deal with Killian. She suddenly felt a great need to speak with someone, to reveal how sad, angry, and confused she was.

  She’d just taken yet another goblet of wine when she allowed herself to use her magical abilities and actually look at the people in attendance. Since she had been a small child she had been capable of seeing auras. She could often detect the goodness or the evil within a person’s soul by gazing at their auras. However, this night she espied something entirely unusual. She wasn’t certain if it was because it was Samhain or perhaps because she was completely relaxed due to the wine, but when she glanced at each person she saw that a magical light encircled some of the guests.

  She soon realized the size and the brilliance of the glow corresponded with the supernatural druid abilities each person possessed. There were some that had entirely no light surrounding them, some with a small, soft glow and a few that were quite radiant. Alainn walked past a nearby pond and caught her own reflection. It startled her for she was encompassed in a light so bright and considerable, she turned away, for in truth the brilliance was nearly blinding. Her mother had often told her she held claim to great magic, and her great-grandmother, Aine had insisted she possessed powers no human had ever known, and that even gods were disbelieving of. It was also these unusual powers that had caused her to be of interest of a demon. Even now, she felt certain he was always nearby... and this night in particular. Yet she couldn’t actually detect his presence. She shook her head at that unsettling thought and glanced at her reflection once more. She supposed no one else could see it for no one was looking at her with any amount of interest, of which she was most relieved.

  Alainn now took note as two young men with a slight glow about them were attempting to outdo each other with some diminutive magical feats. One glanced at a small stick on the ground and caused it to rise, just a few inches in the air. The other put his hand before him and the stick dropped to the ground immediately. They sent it back and forth with their magic, each time raising it higher and further in the air, joyfully making a game of it. The two laughed and clapped each other on the back. Alainn was bemused by their challenges and as she walked on she surveyed a handful of other people openly using their magic in varying degrees.

  Alainn silently hoped they had called the quarters and protected the gathering from demons or anyone associated with dark magic. Always the use of magic caught the attention of others who possessed supernatural gifts, both light and dark. She was confidant her wise and learned grandfather would have adequately warded the location. She had little time to ponder the notion, for she spotted her friend, Danhoul, the young druid speaking to her grandfather. She was thankful to see both, and equally grateful they were clothed.

  Her grandfather was surrounded by a considerable glow. Alainn then cast her eyes to Danhoul. Though not as expansive or bright as her own, Danhoul’s glowing light was remarkable and luminous. She smiled, knowing he was similar to her in many ways.

  As she stared at the two men speaking, she immediately surmised she was the topic of their conversation at the moment. But she thought she’d never seen Danhoul looking quite so serious.

  She hoped there was no reason to be fretful. She desired no further adventure for the precarious time with the mer-people and the god of the sea had given her altogether enough adventure and then some. She certainly wanted no more unpleasantness this night for even now distanced from them
, she could barely steer her thoughts from anything save Killian and Ciara, and seeing them together. Killian adamantly swore nothing had happened between them, not since long before Alainn and Killian were wed, but it wasn’t because Ciara wasn’t actively seducing Alainn’s husband and after sharing his bed again.

  Alainn had allowed her fury and jealousy to rule over her clear thought. She had impulsively insisted he send Ciara away from the castle straightaway, and he had refused. That was all the inducement she’d needed to leave Castle O’Donnel. In truth, she believed she required a time away from the castle and her husband, and perhaps she was even grateful she now had a valid excuse. Though it was surely valid by her way of thinking, she doubted Killian would agree.

  Yet, he hadn’t actually attempted to prevent her leaving, not with any amount of conviction. Evidently he wanted a time apart from her as well. It saddened her more than she could even begin to admit that the great love and devotion they once shared was now reduced to nothing more than two people who had become strangers, and two names upon a marriage decree.

  Nearly on the verge of losing control and beginning to weep, she could not permit that to happen for she hadn’t allowed herself to weep in weeks, not one tear had she shed for their lost babe. If her sorrowful tears should start to fall, she wasn’t at all certain they would ever cease, and so she swiftly downed her entire goblet of wine in one mouthful, and hastily procured another.

  Alainn continued to look at Danhoul and her grandfather, Niall O’Rorke and since they spoke of her, she was justified in telepathically listening to what Danhoul was explaining to her grandfather. It was in regard to Celtic gods and past lives.

  Druids often believed in past lives or in living many lives, for they accepted the belief people came back from the beyond, often more than once and sometimes in the form of another being. But, what Danhoul was now speaking of sounded feebleminded and incomprehensible even to her with a vast knowledge and experience with the unusual or supernatural. He spoke of the same soul not being reborn into another human or tree or animal, but for one soul to live the same life over and over. She supposed it was no more ludicrous than for a Christian to hear of reincarnation for Christians believed each person had one soul that lived on earth but once and then went to the heaven they so fondly believed.