A Witch's Life Read online

  Danhoul spoke of knowing Killian and herself not in a different life, but in this life. He claimed they had lived the same life over and over many, many times with only different results each time. That could possibly explain why she and Killian had been in love since they were children, and why she was certain she had met Danhoul before, but she had no recollection from where.

  Danhoul also insisted the ancient Celtic gods had something to do with the design of it and because of her unprecedented powers she was necessary to them. He claimed the gods had assured him, they would be made to relive the same life as many times as was required until Alainn and others like her, saw to it the universe was righted and portals were closed, as well as beings retrieved from the future and the past. It was most confusing and unsettling to her and, in hearing her grandfather’s thoughts, he believed it was most likely the many goblets of wine that made the young man’s words so unbelievably muddled and incomprehensible.

  Danhoul explained further. Although many Christians were intolerant of druidism or any other sect that were not of the Christian faith, Killian had always been much less traditional than his kin. He had accepted Alainn and her abilities when it was unlikely, even though he was raised in Christianity. Danhoul said it was because Killian had been given plenty of opportunity to get used to the notion in the dozens of times he had lived out this life before.

  Her grandfather could not wrap his mind around it and she sensed that most of what Danhoul spoke of was either partially imagined or greatly exaggerated by the drink.

  Alainn dwelled intently on what Danhoul had been saying. She thought it entirely absurd. If she had allegedly lived this life so many times before wouldn’t her magical abilities allow her to remember? Wouldn’t she have learned from past mistakes and experiences? It all seemed too difficult to comprehend and in her present drunken state, it was clearly impossible. She began to feel progressively dizzy and she looked over to see both men had spotted her. Danhoul must have noticed the lost expression in her eyes for he approached her.

  “You are here alone?” Danhoul questioned with concern in his eyes and his tone.

  “Aye, but I have decided not to stay. In truth, I should not have come.”

  “Well, though I am much in favor of you finally leaving your chambers after so many weeks, it would have been wiser if you had not ventured out alone. I would accompany you back to Castle O’Donnel if you desire it, for you look as though you may not be entirely capable of walkin’ at the moment.”

  “No, Danhoul, I will not return to Killian’s castle any time soon, and I’ll not need to walk for I’ve a fine steed waitin’ for me just outside the glen,” she insisted in a voice now slurring heavily with drink.

  “You intend to reside with your grandfather then, at Castle O’Rorke?”

  “No, that would be an unwise consideration. Mary and Riley have enough to contend with at present. They do not need to suffer the unnecessary burden of me living there as well, not since Riley foolishly professed his feelings for me to Mary so soon after they were wed.”

  “Where is it you intend to go then?”

  “I have not yet decided the actual details, only that I will not return while Ciara lives within the castle.”

  “So you’ve given your husband an ultimatum then, have you?”

  “I’ve given him a choice, and obviously he is not willing to dismiss her from his life.”

  Chapter Six

  Danhoul looked into her eyes and noticed the deep pain within the beautiful, pale blue pools as she spoke. He longed to take her in his arms, to hold her and comfort her, to take away the heartache she’d endured, but he knew well enough that would not be an advisable gesture. It had happened just so in another life—other lives—and his mind soon went to the memories of those times. He had to turn away from Alainn in remembering what had transpired then. With much difficulty, he focused his attention on their present conversation.

  “He needs to discover her true nature for himself, Alainn. I believe he has begun to realize she is not to be trusted. Sure when he sees the entire truth, he will want to rid her from his castle and his life.”

  “Perhaps!” She spoke with displeasure in her voice and then her eyes now sparked with jealousy.

  “Alainn!” Her grandfather came to her and warmly embraced her. “’Tis glorious to see you, my dearest granddaughter.”

  “I am your only granddaughter,” she chided him, but smiled at his words of affection.

  “Aye, but you are the daughter of my son Teige, sure you’d be the dearest granddaughter should I claim many others.” He smiled back. “I am well pleased you have decided to attend the gathering, though if I had my way, sure I’d like you to see how it was in the times past, to view how the old druid rituals were performed.”

  “And would I be witness to the sacrifice of a virgin?” She jested for the wine had made her giddy.

  Her grandfather glanced around and chuckled as he spoke.

  “I believe we’d be hard-pressed to locate such a person here, this night!”

  Alainn glanced unwittingly toward Danhoul and his cheeks colored as she looked at him. The older man stared at him as well with an expression of doubt and disbelief.

  “Sure, this celebration must be a wee bit embarrassing for you then, lad, if you’ve never had the opportunity to be with a woman in an intimate manner.”

  “I’ve not lived my life beneath a rock, Niall. ’Tis true enough I have not been with a woman, but I am a soldier and have lived for seven and ten years so ’tis not that I am altogether innocent.”

  “I suspect it is certainly not because he hasn’t had a good many opportunities to be with any number of women.” Alainn offered, but Danhoul’s face heated further and he did not reply. Alainn continued to speak to break the now awkward silence. “I suppose ’tis true, you have reached the age of seven and ten, Danhoul.”

  “As you’ll know we share the same date of birth, Alainn, I am but one year your younger.”

  “We should share a drink then, to celebrate, aye?”

  She reached for another goblet of wine and both men stated their opinion.

  “You’ve maybe had quite enough wine this night!” they declared together.

  She scowled at him and crinkled her nose, and even that made his heart warm to her. He smiled at her and attempted to conceal his yearnings for her.

  Niall looked at the two young people and drew a worrisome conclusion. He did not need to possess the gift of perceptiveness to realize the man had strong feelings toward his granddaughter. In her vulnerable state, so obviously in need of comfort, and now filled with drink, it would be a wise notion to ensure they spent little time together, especially on this magical night when emotions and passionate yearnings were heightened.

  Danhoul had unexpectedly and without explanation, asked to be relieved of his duties in being Alainn’s guardian and protector. Sure his reason for doing so was because he was falling in love with Alainn. Niall also knew, though she and Killian were joined and he was the one who held her heart, Danhoul had an undeniable and extraordinary ability to see imperative visions that would keep his cherished granddaughter from harm.

  How could Niall possibly keep him close enough so the young man would be a benefit, but adequately distanced so the two did not become involved in an improper manner? Such actions would complicate the situation considerably and perhaps cause irrevocable results. Had that happened in one of these other lifetimes the man had been speaking of or was the entire conversation nonsensical? The young man did not seem the type to be delusional nor have wild imaginings, yet what he had suggested seemed preposterous.

  Niall had always cared deeply for Killian; he’d known him all his life for Killian’s father had been chieftain of the land bordering his own. He had fondly thought of him as a grandson for he was a cousin to his own grandsons. He believed Killian was an admirable and honorable man, a good match for Alainn, and a devoted husband to his granddaughter. They had been dealt a
desperate hardship in losing their infant son, but he had hoped Killian would be more astute in knowing how to offer Alainn comfort and consolation. It was clear that had not transpired.

  He well knew how a man or woman in need of comfort was often driven to find it where they could. He ruefully brought to mind the one time in the near fifty years of marriage to his dear wife, Catherine, the one and only time he had foolishly strayed from their marriage bed.

  It had been after they’d lost their youngest child, their dear daughter, Shylie. Having already lost three sons killed in battle, the tragic death of their sweet, endearing child had apparently been too much for Catherine to bear. She became a mere shell of the woman he’d known so long. She’d languished for many, many months in her all-consuming heartache. She’d disallowed him to share her sorrow or her bed and, in his own grief, he’d been weak and found fleeting comfort by lying with another woman. She’d been considerably younger than himself and he was flattered at the notion she was attracted to him. When she came to him one night, in his lonely grievous state, he did not resist her temptations. He’d regretted that decision and that night ever after. When Catherine had finally recovered, he’d confessed his unfaithfulness, and she’d graciously forgiven him. She had truly bore him no malice, but he would never absolve himself of his transgression and would take the remorsefulness to his grave.

  Today, when he had gone to visit Alainn, and she’d finally agreed to see him after so many weeks, when he had looked upon her, it had frightened him to the core. The distant vacant look in her eyes was so morosely similar to his Catherine during her time of grief it had nearly broken his heart.

  He truly hoped Killian was not finding his own form of comfort in the dark witch’s bed. For, if that was truth and Alainn should discover it, he believed in her angry and jealous state her powers would take a turn toward bitter disenchantment or dark magic. That could not ever be permitted to happen. He must find a way to ensure what was broken between his granddaughter and her husband was soon mended.

  Alainn grew more and more befuddled and unstable on her feet. Danhoul surely noticed, for he placed his arm around her waist to help steady her. She swayed, leaned into him, stared up into his blue-grey eyes and giggled. Now more than a little bleary-eyed, she was startled to see Maire O’Donnel coming toward her and was relieved the woman was now donned in a white robe. The woman was as filled with drink as Alainn was and Maire was not nearly so abrasive when she was whittled. The woman actually possessed a hearty resounding laugh and Alainn smiled at the woman.

  “Alainn O’Brien, ’tis good to see you out and about finally. You must come with me and we’ll locate some food for your grandfather has a feast laid out that is fit for a king, or a chieftain at the very least!” The woman laughed boisterously and Alainn smiled again. “You look as though you could stand to eat more heartily for a good long while. Come, my dear, if you’re cup-shotten you’ll feel much better after you have some food.”

  “I am not feelin’ like eatin’ just yet, Maire. But, I think I should like to locate another goblet of wine. Would you find me some more wine, Danhoul?” She smiled up at him again.

  Alainn was now leaning against an immense oak tree to right her unsteadiness.

  “As I’ve said, Alainn, I think maybe you might have had enough wine this night!” Niall reiterated.

  “Let the girl have a wee bit of mirth then, Niall. Sure, she well deserves a time of merriment and jubilance!” Maire insisted. “If it’s to your likin’, Alainn, sure I’ll soon find another drink, Alainn. You wait right here now, dear!” the woman said as she ambled off with purpose.

  A servant had come in search of Niall for apparently he was needed to come see to a situation that had arisen between two young lords. Niall glanced warily at Danhoul and Alainn, then excused himself with the promise of a hasty return.

  “My grandfather fears you might take advantage of me in my inebriated condition.”

  “I would never do that, Alainn! It is hoped you know me well enough to trust I wouldn’t dishonor you.”

  “Is that because it perhaps happened in another life?” She dared to suggest, alluding to his previous conversation with her grandfather.

  He stared at her possibly with a hint of regret, yet with a distinct longing she’d never noticed before, but he didn’t respond.

  “Do you fear I might take advantage of you then?” She tittered. “Do you suspect I shall indecently shatter your innocence? Is that why you wear such a fretful face this night?”

  “Do not make light of such—”

  Maire O’Donnel interrupted as she approached with a tray filled with food and drink. She wore a wide grin and she passed the tray to Danhoul as she sat down on a long hollow log.

  “Come, sit down, the two of you. You both look as though you could use a drink. Alainn if you don’t eat heartily of food, the drink will as sure as the dawn go to your head, and you might very well do something you may be deeply regretful of.”

  Danhoul glanced at Alainn and he pushed the blonde strands of hairs from his eyes.

  “Sit down, boy!” Maire demanded.

  “I am no boy! Why does everyone refer to me by that damnable title?”

  “Sure ’tis simply because of your handsome boyish face, and the charming wee cleft in your chin.” Alainn smiled and reached out to affectionately graze the location she’d referred to.

  This appeared to take him off guard and he stared at Alainn for a long moment until Maire once more shoved the plate of food toward him.

  “I’m not interested in food or any more drink at the moment, milady!”

  “No, I can see that well enough, but what you are interested in could find you in a dungeon by daybreak for ’tis considered treasonous act upon desiring a chieftain’s wife. Young Alainn, you’ll be comin’ home with me this night and sleepin’ in the guest chambers, you will. For I’ll not see you add insult to injury by bein’ with the boy just to make your husband take notice.”

  “Though I am grateful for your endearing offer, I am in no need of stayin’ with you, Maire. Sure I have a place to stay and a way of getting’ there, ’tis Samhain all things are possible then.”

  Danhoul begged a moment’s leave and Alainn watched as he staggered off amongst the trees perhaps needing to relieve himself, or simply no longer desirous of listening to her and Maire’s conversation. Alainn took advantage of the time alone with the other woman to question her on a topic that had been much on her mind since Killian had brought her to Castle O’Donnel as his new bride.

  “But tell me, Maire, why is it you are being so kind to me this night when always before you have been most uncharitable toward me?”

  “Ah, well you needn’t take it personally, lass. In truth, I am most uncharitable to everyone.”

  “But you have never liked me from the time I came to live at Castle O’Donnel. You have been unfair and critical. You’ve found fault with most everything about me. You were disinclined to show me even the smallest of kindnesses.”

  The older woman now stared at Alainn and perhaps the amount of wine she had consumed loosened her tongue, but caused her to respond with untypical gentleness along with her candor.

  “You’re the granddaughter of a chieftain, the daughter of a chieftain, the wife of a chieftain. You’re young and vibrant with your whole life ahead of you. You’re uncommonly beautiful, with hair that the angels themselves surely envy. You are remarkably intelligent, educated, and musically gifted. You possess vast knowledge of herbs and remedies. I always greatly desired to learn such information. But when, as a young maiden I mentioned to my father of my interest in becoming a healer, he impatiently said no one in my line knew anything of such topics and certainly no one had the time or desire to teach a stupid girl-child like me.”

  Even in her inebriated state, Alainn sensed the woman’s long-standing pain and deep malcontent.

  “So ’tis jealousy or envy you feel towards me then, is that the truth of it, Maire?

>   She shook her head at considering the inquiry. “Nay, not either of those, Alainn. I s’pose ’tis resentment I feel toward you more than anythin’ else. I do not possess your station.”

  “You are a chieftain’s wife,” Alainn interrupted.

  “Aye.” She sighed. “Not by birth, only because my father offered Cormac a parcel of land, some cattle, and two good horses along with my hand. It was inducement enough I suppose for the man to wed me. He was over two decades older than me and apparently in need of a wife.”

  Alainn felt saddened by the woman’s lot in life, although it was surely a fate that befell many women, and perhaps a kinder fate than a good many others.

  Maire continued to speak. “Your grand and undeniably handsome young husband happily and purposely chose you for his wife. He is proud to call you his wife. He loves and desires you much. It is evident in the way he gazes upon you. I have longed to have someone look at me in such a manner, even just one time in my life.”

  Alainn empathetically felt the woman’s sorrow and discontent, and her thoughts went to Killian and all they’d once shared. She was honored to know he did feel that way toward her at one time, but now there was much uncertainty between them.

  “It is not something you could understand, Alainn.” The woman continued, “I have gone through nearly the whole of life almost entirely unnoticed, unworthy of being noticed... not beautiful, not bright or gifted in any manner that sets me apart from others, and I most certainly don’t possess a hint of magic.”