The Farrier's Daughter Page 5

  “Only some of the time. When we are together.” She leaned in and whispered, “When we are joined intimately. Then, I am able.”

  “That is somewhat unsettling.” His cheeks reddened slightly. “You must think me lecherous.”

  “No more so than I,” she murmured.

  Their food arrived, and she grimaced. But, as they sat together, not speaking of the tribulations before them, Alainn realized her appetite had returned. They broke bread, ate cheese and drank warm cider, and she felt a slight trickle of hope creep into her heart. It was a foolish consideration to allow within.

  Later, when they had finished their food and were strolling along the cobblestone street, they passed a church that appeared quite ancient. Its pointed spire seemed to reach up to the heavens. Killian stopped to consider it, then gazed at her with an expression of longing.

  “Marry me, Alainn,” he said quietly. “Marry me this very day. We shall find a priest and be married.”

  “Do not taunt me, Killian,” she whispered. “You know it’s not possible.”

  “Why not? My uncle cannot deny what has already been done.”

  “Aye, but he could. He would simply not recognize our marriage as legal. He would surely have it annulled. Then, I am sure he would kill me and hurt you.”

  “You truly fear him.”

  “I know what he is capable of. I do not share his blood or his station. I am able to see his flaws.”

  “I do not believe him to be without flaws, Alainn. But, I don’t believe he would harm me, and though I will not soon forgive him for causing you pain, I am certain he would not wish you ill will.”

  “Then we are of opposing opinions, Killian, and it is simply another reason why I cannot return to the castle.”

  “If we are wed, the marriage legal and performed in a church by a priest, if it is consummated, he would have no grounds to annul it. Tell me you’ll become my wife. Make me the happiest man in all of Eire.”

  She looked at the peaceful church and felt pain in her heart as if it were truly breaking.

  “No Killian,” she said simply. “Tis not possible. And there are things about me of which you are unaware.”

  “Nonsense, Alainn. I know you as well as I know myself.”

  “There are always secrets hidden deep within, and I have more than my share, I fear.”

  “Alainn, if you speak of these powers you possess, I have known about them from the first day we spoke. I do not fear them.” He smiled encouragingly. “Show me your powers, then. If they have become so great, show—”

  The church bell pealed from the bell tower with a deafening noise, drowning his words. Alainn tilted her chin, concentrating on the tower, and the enormous bell silenced mid-peal. All around them, people stopped to stare and mutter, clearly disturbed by the occurrence.

  “That was your doing?” His voice was skeptical.

  “Aye.”

  “Show me more,” he ordered.

  She turned her head to a flock of seagulls gathered by the harbor. They were squawking loudly, attacking one another over a thick crust of bread. She showed then her palm, and they immediately settled, sitting quietly and staring at her. She swept her hand through the air and they all flew away, except one, on whom she kept her eyes trained. He flew over and perched on her shoulder.

  “You have power over animals?”

  “It has been so for some time now.”

  “Can you control...people?” he asked, as if reluctant to learn the answer.

  “I’ve not tried. I think it would surely be considered evil to attempt it.”

  “Could you change the way my uncle feels?”

  “I’m not certain.” She stroked the feathers of the bird’s chest.

  “Try it with me.”

  “I won’t!” The bird screeched and flew off as if insulted. She watched it grow smaller in the sky, being too disturbed to look at Killian.

  “When you use these powers, Alainn, it requires much strength? It leaves you weakened.” He gathered her close, and she leaned against him, feeling his warmth.

  “Aye. It is as though I become weary and must sleep, especially if my mind is filled with other quandaries.”

  “I would not have asked you to show me if I’d known.” With that, he lifted her into his arms as though she were as light as a feather.

  “Killian put me down. I am perfectly capable of walking.” He ignored her and kept his pace. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Back to the inn.”

  “You know well enough, if we go back to the inn together, we will neither rest nor sleep.”

  “Aye.” His seductive smile made him undeniably charming, but she resisted.

  “Killian, I am most serious, put me down. I will not go back to the inn with you. You must go back to your uncle’s castle. The celebrations will begin in mere days, and you are your uncle’s champion in the games of skill and strength. He will not take kindly to your absence.”

  “Do you believe my heart would be in jousting and swordfights if you are here alone in Galway? I would probably suffer a sword through my heart. And if you truly believe we will never be together, then I am not so certain I wouldn’t welcome the blade.”

  “She seems a lovely girl. You have a chance at happiness with Mary.”

  He stopped walking and dropped her roughly onto her feet. “I will not accept you truly believe that. If your powers are so vast then surely we can think of a way to be together.”

  “Would you have me kill your uncle?”

  His eyes narrowed at her question.

  “It won’t come to that, Alainn.”

  “Would you have me kill him?”

  “No! I don’t wish him dead.”

  “Then, there is no way we can be together, for as long as he lives, he will never agree to our marriage or allow us to live in peace.”

  “I will join the bonnachts. There are many nobles who would welcome my knowledge and skill with weaponry. It could hardly be considered treasonous to my uncle if I fight for Ireland against the English.”

  “And so we would be wed, and you would leave to fight and die in battle. I would rather you wed Mary than see you dead. I will not be your widow if that is the price I must pay to be your wife.”

  He breathed a heavy sigh, for she was correct that the life span of a soldier in the Irish army was short.

  “Then, marry me, and we’ll find a small parcel of land somewhere hidden far away from my uncle.”

  “There is nowhere in all of Ireland where he would not find us, Killian. Is that how you picture our marriage? Hidden away, worrying that one day he will find us, then attempting to flee his army and his wrath?”

  “We will go to another country! You’ve often spoken of wanting to see the Americas, and I have sufficient coin to secure passage on any number of ships. There are more people leaving for the Americas every day.”

  “I cannot leave Ireland. There is the curse to contend with.”

  “And how do you plan to contend with it if you remain in Galway?” he asked with growing impatience.

  “After you and Mary are wed and have gone to your castle, I will return to see what might be done. My m...Mara believes there is a way if we work together.”

  “Your Mara,” he spat. “She has become so endeared to you that you refer to her as yours!”

  “She thinks there may be a way to reverse the spell, but I believe there will be consequences. Mara and her descendants might die.”

  “And where is the problem within that? Her son is dead, and he surely fathered no children. She clearly deserves to die in retribution for her abhorrent curse.”

  “I did not say she has not committed terrible sins. Her curse has devastated many, including Lady Siobhan, who is very dear to me.”

  “Yet, you hesitate. You would risk the entire future of all the O’Brien clan to save a witch who has brought about death and heartache to my kin.”

  “Mara was wrong in cursing the entire O’Brien fami
ly, but she was justified in cursing your grandfather. I would have cursed him myself for what he did to her.”

  “So, she finally told you what prompted the curse?”

  “She did not tell me. I witnessed it. I saw it... I heard it within the walls of the room where the crime was committed. I watched him rape her, knowing full well she carried a child. He beat her unmercifully and took her beloved from her.”

  “You saw it, heard it? How is that possible? It was years ago.”

  “Nearly ten and eight. I saw an echo in time. I do not welcome this new magical power.”

  “She cursed my family, Alainn,” he said, his jaw tight. “Perhaps if you were to go to the bedchamber where my aunt lay in childbed five or six times, only to have the children born lifeless or die within hours. Perhaps if you heard the echo of her weeping and grieving while she held her stillborn babes, or clutched them close, agonizing over how long it would be before they were taken, surely then the thought of the death of one accursed witch would not seem such an unreasonably high price to pay.” He was furious.

  “I did not say I would not go through with it,” she muttered.

  “But, ’tis obvious it pains you greatly to consider it, even knowing what ill she has caused!” he roared. His green eyes were blazing.

  Alainn turned away from him and strode toward the seashore. This solution he was so eager to attempt might claim her life and that of their unborn child. Yet, if she did not attempt it, the child would die. Either way, their child was surely doomed. She had barely allowed the thought to cross her mind when she felt a flutter, liken to butterfly wings, within her belly. She knew it was unusually early to feel the blessed sensation, but because of her many magical powers she deemed this was simply another ability that set her apart from other women.

  She longed to cry out in joy, to reveal the truth to Killian. Instead, she pressed her hand lightly to her abdomen as she felt the quickening once more, and tears swam in her eyes. She knew she must fight for this child as she’d never fought for anything before in her life.

  “Alainn, you must come back, we have much more to discuss!”

  “Go to Castle O’Brien, Killian!” she cried without turning.

  “Aye, if you are so damn eager to drive me away, so be it. I’ll oblige you, woman! I have paid for the room at the inn for this night. You may have it. I assure you I won’t come near you again.”

  She kept her face to the sea as seemingly endless tears spilled down her cheeks. Nodding without speaking, she listened as the echoes of his stomping boots on cobblestone became fainter and fainter.

  Chapter Seven

  Alainn found herself nearing the docks once more. She had spent most of the day wandering aimlessly through the streets, so deep in thought she seemed scarcely aware of the people and noise, the clamber of the city around her.

  The day had grown late when she glanced at the skyline; the golden-red ball was sinking low over the western horizon. She walked along the beach, allowing herself time to gaze at the tranquil beauty of the sunset. Water quietly brushed her bare feet, grazed her ankles, the cool waves trying to still the tumultuousness within her.

  It was then that Alainn felt the presence. It made her skin prickle, the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She was not alone. But as she glanced around, she could see no one near. Fishing vessels were pulling into harbor and several people remained on the nearby docks. The presence was surely not human. It was liken to what she had experienced in the dungeon of Castle O’Brien.

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her abilities. When Alainn was a child, increasingly disturbed by the presence of the many spirits around her, she had learned how to block the other world. The spirits were no longer visible to her unless she allowed herself to see them. She took another deep breath and opened her eyes.

  An elderly spectral couple strolling hand in hand smiled warmly at Alainn. A young woman sat on a large rock, weeping mournfully, silver tears pouring down her pale ghostly face as she waited for her lover to come back. Alainn knew without question that he had met his fate on a downed ship and the weeping woman had walked out into the depths to join him. She wondered why they were not together in the afterlife. Sometimes death was no more fair than life.

  Alainn spotted another young spirit sitting on the sand with her knees pulled up to her chest. She moved nearer, feeling drawn to her. The girl spoke without looking up.

  “You should not be here, ’tis not safe.”

  “This is where you met your fate?”

  “Aye, I was murdered on this very spot, not by a sailor filled with too much drink or a lustful suitor, but by my very own father. I intended to marry a man not of his choosing, and so he chose to end my life. You must leave this place now, young witch. There is no time to waste.”

  “Who is it I should be fearful of?”

  “No one you can see,” the spirit answered ominously.

  The damp air grew cold, and the sun disappeared from sight. Alainn moved quickly onto the docks but felt no safer in the presence of the men. A few looked at her suspiciously, the odd one lasciviously, and she pulled the hood of her cloak over her unbound hair. The chill within her grew.

  For as long as Alainn could remember, she’d had the ability to detect auras. She could see a colored glow surrounding each person, could often detect what lay within their souls. She had only ever known two people with unusually dark auras. One was Richard McGilvary, the steward’s son. He had been a horrid child and was now a loathsome young man. He tortured animals, and violated and abused many women. Killian had nearly beaten him to death on more than one occasion for his unconscionable acts. He did not yet know that Richard and his older brother, Henry, had tried to rape her and nearly succeeded.

  If not for Pierce’s protection and her own magic, they may well have accomplished the feat that was ordered, she later learned, by Chieftain O’Brien himself. However, they were more than pleased to oblige him. Henry was a very nasty sort, but Alainn thought Richard harbored within him a depth of malevolence that was purely evil.

  The other dark soul was the chieftain’s priest. She had felt great unease ever since she was a child because of his ever-darkening aura.

  Morag, the old wise woman who raised her, had talked of dark spirits and creatures more menacing than the spirits. Humans who delved into the black arts who dared conjure demons and creatures from the Unseelie Court, the realm of evil that lives between worlds. It could be in part why Morag had always tried to have Alainn keep her powers at bay, lest someone with malevolent intentions learned of them.

  The fairies in the glade had also warned her of entities filled with abhorrent darkness, those who enforced their powers with evil. Alainn shivered again and picked up her pace until she was nearly running.

  “Young and powerful witch, come to me, reveal your many powers!” She gasped, for the voice was speaking inside her head. Then, the words of old Morag filled her mind.

  “When darkness approaches and threatens, do not simply call upon your powers. Face your fear and create your own light. Let only goodness shine through.”

  Alainn stopped running, inhaled several slow deep breaths, and imagined herself sitting in the tiny chapel of Castle O’Brien. She pictured the holiness of the place, the innocence and sweetness of newborn babies, the warmth of kittens and lambs, the soothing beauty of Irish harps, the goodness of Lady Siobhan, the power of the many glade fairies, and the strength of Morag. She envisioned sunlight pouring through the windows of the chapel and at once she could feel warmth and light radiating from within her, swirling around her, surrounding her in its ethereal glow. She looked down and could see light shining through her. The darkness shrank back and receded entirely, but not before she heard the unearthly voice once more.

  “One day, we will meet again, young witch. I shall learn what great powers you possess and take them for my own!”

  Chapter Eight

  It had been another night with
out sleep. At first Alainn was undeniably unnerved by the dark presence. But, once back in the warmth and safety of the inn, she could almost believe she’d simply imagined the entire unpleasant experience.

  Now, she hid behind the curtain of the bedroom window, watching Killian. He stood by his large grey stallion, had been there for nearly an hour since the sun had risen, but he had not yet looked up toward the window of the inn. She had not been able to lie upon the bed for she could still detect the musky scent from their recent lovemaking upon the sheets. She stifled a sob, as the memory of it filled her senses entirely and she realized they would never be together in that manner again.

  She sat down heavily upon a chair and waited for the sudden uneasiness in her stomach to settle. The herbs did not seem capable of stopping her queasiness this day. A new sharp pain sliced through her head, and she was overcome with a revulsion so intense she barely made it to the basin before her emesis erupted in earnest. She was blinded by a vision so clear and disturbing, she cried out in protest. Killian lay dead upon a battlefield. Beside him, lay Rory and Riley, both bloodied and lifeless. The entire moor was littered with bodies, and beyond the hills stood men in the red uniform of the English army. As quickly as it came, the vision went, leaving her sweaty and weak.

  She ran toward the window, but Killian was no longer there. Collecting just a few of her possessions, the treasured combs he gave her, her dagger, and herbs, she raced down the steps and onto the street. His horse, Storm, was a swift steed; she would never catch them on foot. She would surely need to find a stable and locate a horse. But, the meager coins in her pocket would not pay for even a lame nag. Would she be driven to procure a horse by way of her magic?

  “You took your sweet time, Lainna.”

  “Killian!” she screamed and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she could not stifle her sobs. Her body trembled with relief at seeing him safe and well, holding him in her arms.

  “Shhh, there’s no need to weep so, my sweet Lainna. We are together now, and that’s all that truly matters.”