A Witch's Destiny Page 4

  “When we land on the shores of Scotland, I will see the deed done for even as I sense the boy-child growing within me, I loathe the distinct evil he possesses, and sure you’re correct… the demon is much aware as well.”

  Chapter Two

  Killian turned and noted the serious conversation taking place between his wife and Danhoul. They spoke of a subject unknown to him and he surmised it was responsible for the recent untypical sadness in Alainn’s beautiful blue eyes, and the noticeable pain she carried within her heart. He despised knowing she kept this from him, but would confide in another man, especially knowing full well Danhoul was in love with Alainn.

  Most men would be inclined to send him away without delay or further thought, or perhaps be filled with jealous enragement at this certainty. However, Killian considered Danhoul not only a necessity, but he also thought of him as a friend and ally. He was one of Alainn’s guardians as well. His visions and his magic had prevented tragedy and saved her life more than once.

  Killian also prided himself in being intuitive enough to realize it brought some level of comfort to Alainn to know she and Danhoul shared common magical abilities, abilities Killian could never be part of. Yet, he could not ridicule her magic without ridiculing her as he had known it was a part of her since the first day they had met all those years ago.

  Killian heaved a heavy sigh, and hoped whatever melancholia Alainn felt at the moment would soon be amendable. He must trust her and attempt to understand, though he believed they were as close as a man and a woman could possibly be, there were times when he must accept he would not always be included in the supernatural aspects of her life.

  He glanced at her one more time and wanted greatly to go to her and ask her what robbed her joy and plagued her thoughts. He would have liked to have played the game with her, the game she had challenged him with the first day he had laid eyes upon her. As a wee girl she had told him her plight was greater than his own. She’d made it into a game to draw him into conversation and pull him from the darkest depths of despair he had ever known. At the time, he thought even though she was a young girl of common birth, she could not possibly understand his own unenviable plight. His entire family had been lost when he was only two and ten and he had been left for dead on a battlefield and discovered amongst the many dead bodies. He still remembered clinging to his own brother Cian’s lifeless body. He had been taken to live with his uncle and his family at Castle O’Brien. In his pitiful state, he thought no one could rival his woes. But Killian had been startled to learn young Alainn had lived a remarkably difficult life as well. She’d been abandoned by those who were to love and protect her, and raised by a stern, aged healer known to put fear in the hearts of grown men.

  Even as a child with few years to her credit, Alainn had refused to coddle him and treat him as an ailing noble. Instead, she’d forced him to respond to her even if it had been in utter annoyance at her irksome persistence. Yet her high spirits and delightful enthusiasm for life, her childish game, together with her tender, healing touch had healed not only his body, but his heart and his very soul that day.

  If he was being truthful, he believed they had fallen in love even then. She had been a wee child of only seven years, but she had captured his heart and from that day forward he had acted as her protector and her friend. Though he’d known within the deepest reaches of his mind he loved her in more than a brotherly way, because he was five years her elder, and due to their different stations in life, he had never dared to think she would one day become his own true love.

  But destiny had allowed them to fall in love, to be married, and create a life together. No matter how much unpleasantness they had faced and would continue to encounter because of her magical abilities, he would bear it. If and when, she wanted him to know what caused her present grief, he prayed she would confide in him. Until then he would attempt to abide by her wisdom and trust in her sometimes misguided, but always well-intended judgment.

  He glanced at her and smiled a broad grin and was well-pleased when her remarkably blue eyes filled with obvious love as she returned his affectionate expression.

  *

  As the ship docked in the bustling southern Scottish port of Ayrshire, Alainn noted the rugged coastline, the beauty of the rocky terrain, and the alluring blue-green water. She longed to be able to simply relish the beauty of this wild country and the possibility… nay, the certainty of finding Teige O’Rorke, the elusive man who was her father who had disappeared before she was born. He’d been told a vicious falsehood he’d obviously believed. He’d been informed her mother, Mara, the woman he’d loved and married, had been killed. The man had not been heard of for many years and it wasn’t certain he remained alive.

  Yet, recently, Alainn had learned her father was indeed alive, and a searcher employed by the Celtic gods. Searchers were people sent to find those who had fallen through the many portals to other realms or who were in certain danger. He had saved Alainn on two occasions when she had been in dire peril. Although she didn’t sense he knew she was his daughter, for she believed he truly didn’t know of her existence else he would have returned to her mother, he had saved her life nonetheless.

  Through her recent visions she knew he was now in Scotland and was being held prisoner. Although she couldn’t begin to understand why the gods would not save him if he was crucial to them, she understood very little of the gods and their reasoning for they had certainly left her to her own devises and at risk of certain death or impairment on many occasions. Come to it, if they’d intervened and saved them from the uncertainty and danger in England she would not be in her present unenviable predicament. They had oft explained they would not interfere with every unpleasant happening no more than the Christian god would answer every desperate prayer. They had claimed that would take away free will and accountability for human actions. She couldn’t deny she agreed by some measure, but if she was necessary to the salvation of the gods and the entire human world as they’d adamantly vowed, she would gladly see them interfere in this dire calamity. To them, it was not more than a mild inconvenience if she was made to live this life an infinite number of times for in truth most of the Celtic gods had lived for many millennia. What riled and disturbed her the most was the fact some of the hardships and chaos she faced were purposely placed in her life as a way to test her, her ability to reason and adapt, and to test her magic. When she dwelled on that, she became steadily more infuriated. She sensed the evil being within her fed on hatred and rage, as did the demon and all in his allegiance.

  Alainn pulled her thoughts from the past unpleasantness and determining why the gods behaved as they did, and focused simply on her present quandaries. Yet the uncertainty she now faced caused her heart to despair for, by her own decision, she confronted it without Killian’s knowledge or involvement and that in itself wore at her already despairing heart. She fought the continued nausea and once more placed the vial of herbal remedy to her lips.

  She accepted Killian’s outstretched hand and hoped the stability of being on land once more would ease her ailing stomach. She had been queasy each time she carried a child, but this time it was markedly different for she hadn’t even been aware she carried this child until several weeks after its conception. When she’d carried Killian’s two children, wee Cian who’d died as a newborn and the girl-child she’d carried for only weeks before she’d miscarried when she’d been injured in London, she’d instinctively known almost immediately. With this child, the nausea had not begun until she attempted to take the potions to rid herself of the child. She also had found the uneasiness within her not limited to her stomach. Every part of her body as well as mind and her very soul protested the unborn child. Sure the demon was behind the rancid stomach, but she also sensed the evil creature rapidly growing within her, and she shivered at the urgent need to end her time with child.

  Killian’s eyes were upon her and she looked up at him, lovingly trying to assure him she was well. His green
eyes revealed his concern and her heart ached. She despised keeping secrets from him. They had vowed to face all difficulties together, but she didn’t believe it held true for this grim situation. Killian must never discover the truth for it would surely change everything between them. She would never be able to bear the intolerable pain of meeting the betrayal in his eyes, or his outrage in learning the truth, and then most certainly being distanced from his love.

  She would take the earliest opportunity to see this horridly unpleasant quandary remedied before anyone else learned of her condition or the unborn child affected her further. She would never have imagined this would be something she would ever consider in her life. Always the thought of bringing new life into the world had seemed important and essential to her. She had been eager to bear a child and become a mother, but the life now growing within her was not what any mother would care to harbor within her womb for many months or bring forth into the world.

  She attempted to keep the harrowing thoughts from her mind, as well as the revulsion she felt whenever she thought of the time she had spent with the king of England that had resulted in creating the child within her. At the time, she believed such drastic measures were necessary to protecting Lily and in freeing Killian and Danhoul and ensuring they did not meet their end on the English king’s block. Now she wondered if it would have been better if she had employed her magic, even at the risk of being discovered to be a witch. She pondered if whether it might have been preferential to be burned at the stake as a witch than having betrayed her wedding vows and Killian’s trust by allowing the king to have her, and then to carry offspring rendered evil by the cursed blade. Although Lily hadn’t been violated by the king as she well would have happened if Alainn hadn’t bore the abuse in her stead, her parents had been killed and her home destroyed.

  There was little use in questioning what could not be altered, but only dealt with by ending the life within her. The demon that had been pursuing her for some time would undoubtedly continue to search for her if he knew she carried this inherently malevolent child. As she and Danhoul had discussed, it was certain the demon would one day want the child for an ally in his evil schemes.

  A shiver encompassed her entire body and she openly shuddered once more at the loathsome consideration. Killian stopped walking and looked down at her with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes. His jaw tightened and Alainn watched him attempt to gain control of his escalating emotions before he spoke.

  “You must tell me now what is troubling you, Alainn! I thought to allow you to speak of it when and if you seemed inclined to do so, but I have waited sufficiently for that to happen. Now I must insist you tell me this very moment what fills your mind so entirely and causes your beautiful eyes to be ever-filled with sadness.”

  Alainn looked around at the numerous men walking on the docks and leaving the ship. Many seemed intent on their tasks, but a few had curiously stopped to hear the serious conversation taking place between the young Irish chieftain and his bride.

  “Killian, this is not the time or place for such discussion.”

  “When would be the best time or place, Alainn? Clearly ’twas not at our castle in our private bedchamber, and not in the past weeks that I have waited for you to speak to me of what matters have caused your heavy heart!”

  “Killian, we must seek shelter for the day grows late and Conner claims the nearest inn is sure to be full if we do not make haste.”

  “Then we’ll sleep on the damnable ground if need be, for by God’s bones I intend to get to the bottom of what you’re keepin’ from me. I demand to know what fresh hell you choose to keep within rather than sharing it with me. Has it to do with the demon?”

  Alainn avoided meeting his eyes and she grappled for words that might appease him for the moment.

  “I am weary, Killian, and my stomach protests the long voyage across the sea. Let me sup and sleep and sure I’ll be restored soon enough. ’Tis certain morning’s first light will see me right as rain.”

  Killian’s eyes blazed and his jaw further tensed as he spoke though he fought to control his temper and his voice. “Tis horse shite and you well know it, Alainn! The journey may have made you weak at the stomach, ’tis true enough, but it did not put the tears in your lovely expressive eyes, or the pain in your heart. And when you were injured by that damnable cursed dagger and you persuaded me to leave you to your fate upon the sea, I vowed then and there should we ever be permitted to be together again, nothin’ would ever come between us.

  “I sense the secrets hidden from me regarding whatever ails you are certain to put an immeasurable wedge between us. I thought at first it was the many lengthy days you tended to the sick and dying with the recent sickness and fever, for I well know you worked to the point of exhaustion and beyond. Next, I assumed being unable to save Mac’s life had caused you to be woeful. Then I considered it was perhaps the damnable Celtic gods and their absurd tests, but I know there is far more to it than that. You’re keepin’ something from me, surely something I have a right to know if it’s made you so fretful.”

  Alainn would not meet his eyes as he spoke on, and she willed her ever-delicate stomach to settle as he continued in a justifiably irritated manner.

  “I’ll not continue to keep guessin’ at random what it is that has you tearful. So you’d best tell me now what’s made you so very maudlin these past weeks.”

  Danhoul approached and she prayed he would somehow prevent this unpleasant yet possibly unavoidable confrontation.

  But when Killian saw him nearing, he put out his hand and blared at the other man. “If you think you’re goin’ to keep my wife and myself from havin’ this long overdue conversation, then you can think again, Danhoul Calhoun, for I’ll not stand for it!”

  It was obvious Danhoul was not going to be dissuaded so easily by Killian’s words or his authority.

  “Aye, Killian, but I was only about to suggest if you waited until your wife with her unsettled stomach was sittin’ down in a nearby inn, sure you’d be more likely to get a favorable reaction from her.”

  “Aye, well, ’tis doubtful it will be favorable at any rate, Danhoul, but ’tis not favor I care so much about, but truth!”

  Her head spun as she looked up at the resolve on Killian’s face. She had no notion what partial truths she could tell him that would ease his mind or conceal the deception. An uncontainable wave of nausea overcame her and she quickly spun round to avoid the two men who were now glaring at one another.

  She fell to her knees there on the dock and hung her head over the water. She spewed and strained as she violently heaved. With nothing left within her stomach to expel, she thought she could bear it no longer and her sides ached with the violent retching. Killian had knelt beside her, held her hair and patted her back, which only proved to add to her already guilty conscience.

  When it seemed the retching was concluded, Killian stood and took her arm, helping her to rise. Although she held tight to him as she dizzily attempted to stand, her world began to go dark. She was about to lose consciousness as she was hastily scooped into Killian’s strong arms.

  *

  Later, as they were settled in a room in the inn, Killian questioned Danhoul.

  “Shall I send for another physician, search for a worthy healer, or will you tell me plain what ails my wife?”

  Danhoul glanced down at the pallid complexion of the young woman upon the bed. She had not yet gained consciousness and he was beginning to become fearful himself. He placed his hand to her forehead and tried to hear her thoughts. She was purposefully keeping herself in a state of sleep in hope of avoiding her husband’s interrogation. She was capable of much with her magic, but sometimes even he was awed by her abilities.

  Danhoul placed his hand to her middle and had to valiantly will himself not to jerk it away in revulsion. He could sense the child within her was, indeed, filled with horrendous darkness. He could only imagine what Alainn must be feeling every moment to have that le
vel of evil growing within her. He also believed that although Alainn was not being aided in any manner by his magical healing that somehow the evil being within her was gaining power from the use of his magic as it had when Alainn had done so. Killian accurately noticed Danhoul’s concern.

  “What is it you sense; what do you know?”

  “I believe it is a chronic ailment that persists from the serious mishap she suffered when she was struck by the coach in London. It is surely what has caused this long lasting malady.” Danhoul lied.

  Killian’s eyes maintained some suspicion, yet obvious relief in knowing something of the truth despite the uncertainty.

  “Then heal her, man!”

  “Aye, well it isn’t as though I haven’t been attempting it, Killian.”

  He placed his hand on her once more and this time, he felt a searing pain in his fingers. The child had magical powers ever growing and strengthening, even though it was surely scarcely the size of a man’s fist. This frightened Danhoul and he called to Alainn through telepathy.

  “Alainn, you must waken for I sense the child’s powers grow more rapidly when you hold yourself in this unnatural sleep by way of your magic. He derives power when you or I use our abilities.”

  Alainn sat straight up in bed at hearing this and her eyes were wide and filled with terror. Killian immediately went to her and gently took her hand.

  “Christ, Alainn! You have frightened me sufficiently this day. Why did you not tell me you remain ailing from the injury you suffered in England?”

  Alainn hurriedly read Danhoul’s thoughts to discover what Killian was referring to.