The Farrier's Daughter Page 9

  Hiding her face with the hood of her cloak, Alainn hurried to the back stairwell. She passed many servants, mostly menservants assigned the task of keeping goblets filled, with the odd woman carrying a tray of food. Breena, who was not often employed as a serving girl, was presently removing an elderly lord’s hand from her arse.

  Breena and Alainn had never been close though they’d both lived in the castle most of their lives. In truth, the servant girl had often treated her unkindly. Breena threw her an odd look as she recognized her; Alainn continued on her way.

  So enormous was the crowd of visitors, she could scarcely comprehend how they would all be fed and housed for an entire week. As she passed the great hall, she heard many loud, drink-affected male voices. Hugh O’Brien’s hearty laugh boomed out above the rest, making her skin crawl. With her powers so uncontrollable at present, she thought it best to pass the room quickly.

  Alainn had just rounded the last bend before her chamber, when brawny arms pulled her into a darkened alcove. She stifled a scream and beat at the arms until Killian’s face was illuminated in the soft light of the sconce.

  “Killian,” she chided. He kissed her passionately, and though she responded without hesitation, it was she who ended the embrace.

  “ ’Tis unwise, Killian. Should your uncle discover us, I fear there would be dire consequences.”

  “Then come to my bedchamber.”

  “Killian, there are dozens of people scattered about the castle, ’tis not a possibility. Does your uncle know you have arrived?”

  “Aye, he has requested I go to him, but I needed to know you were safe. I had reservations about you traveling with that family of musicians. I wanted to show the young lads my knuckles for their lusty looks. And when that brazen young soldier placed his hand on your leg, I could hardly keep from unsheathing my sword. Why did you look at him as you did?”

  “I thought for a moment I recognized him, but it must not be so for I cannot recall ever meeting him.”

  “Aye well, he’d best keep himself distanced from you. No one else attempted to put their hands on you, did they?”

  “Oh, Killian, settle you down. No one touched me. The young soldier is nothing more than a bold young boy. He meant no disrespect. And I am not without ways to manage men. I might have had him struck with a lightning bolt, but I thought that a bit rash. And you can wager much he wouldn’t have attempted any such behavior had he known you think of me as yours. They see me as a peasant, Killian. I am their equal.”

  “But you are mine, Alainn.”

  He kissed her possessively again, and, when a servant girl and lord came up the steps, he turned his back to conceal their identity. They heard the woman’s laughter as her companion led her eagerly to a nearby bedchamber.

  “I must get inside before someone sees us together, Killian.”

  She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips quickly against his, then started down the corridor and stepped inside her small chamber. As she lighted the candle, Killian followed her into the room. His eyes skirted the chamber. In all the time that they had been friends, he had never looked inside the room she had shared with Morag since childhood. He was appalled at how tiny it was.

  There was a small cot at one side and upon it lay the saffron-colored cloak Morag had always worn. By the bed, a small hole in the wall let in the vaguest of light. It could barely be referred to as a window. The fireplace was surely incapable of producing much heat, for its size was meager. Two half-burned peat logs were now lying there waiting to be lit. And in the other corner, there was a tiny bed of straw, beside which stood a wooden table. Upon the table stood a pitcher and basin, one candle, and a small stack of books. Two worn and shabby dresses hung from a peg above the bed. Alainn saw the pity in his eyes and, with cheeks aflame, turned away from him. He gathered her in his arms and whispered in her ear.

  “I had no notion, Alainn, that this was how you have been made to live all these years.”

  She turned and placed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t pity me, Killian. I have never gone hungry and I have always had a roof over my head. The work I do is not back-breaking. There are others far worse off than I. Though, I am ashamed to admit, after spending time in the lavish inn at Galway and sleeping within your grand bed in your castle, I do feel some displeasure at returning to this place.”

  “I will speak to my uncle this night about finding a more suitable chamber for you until we are wed.”

  “You will do nothing of the sort, Killian! I am much accustomed to this life. I will soon settle into it once more. And do you actually believe your uncle will be accommodating to me in any way when he learns you plan to defy his wishes and scorn Mary MacDonald?”

  She bent to light the turf fire and he knelt beside her. His eyes held a torment within them. She longed to remove the deep creases in his brow.

  “I should have listened to you, Alainn. We should not have come back here,” he said in a ragged voice. “We should have run off together.” He stood and began to pace. She went to him and placed her hands on his cheeks.

  “Do not be vexed, Killian. You must go to your bedchamber and get you some sleep. The night grows exceedingly late and you are expected to be in perfect form on the morrow when the games begin.”

  “I care not for these hellish games! All I can think of is you. Christ! My bed is as large as this entire chamber, and this window will not allow a breeze on a warm summer’s night.” He gestured in complete disapproval of her meager surroundings.

  “Your bed is not entirely this big, though it’s been a good many years since I’ve actually seen your bed.” But his foul mood would not be dispelled with her humor.

  She affectionately placed her hand upon his cheek.

  “No good will come of your temper, Killian, nor of trying to change what has always been.”

  They both jumped as the small wooden door crashed open, and Hugh O’Brien stood in the doorway. He was flanked by two guards.

  “Ah nephew, you have returned unharmed,” he sneered. “I am most grateful, though it seems it was unnecessary for me to send out half my army and both my sons to retrieve you. And here I find you in the arms of a peasant girl when you have been ordered to come to my chamber. You might have taken such urges to a brothel.”

  “Uncle,” Killian warned.

  “So is it by sheer coincidence that my healer has arrived back from her mysterious departure on the same night my dearest nephew has returned from his business in Galway? One might be driven to believe the two of you had been together, though I am sure this is not the case. For the loyal, intelligent man I know as my nephew would surely not jeopardize his forthcoming marriage to be with a commoner, who by her present actions, appears to be nothing but a whore.”

  “Watch your tongue, Uncle. You speak of the woman I love and plan to marry.”

  The older man threw back his head and laughed raucously.

  “I think not nephew. You are promised to the Scot and so it shall be. Whatever infatuation you have with this girl will pass when you allow yourself to spend time with the Scottish lass. She is quite beautiful, though I admit your wee harlot is not without lovely attributes of her own. But the Scot is a lady. She will be an adequate and suitable wife. Sure you’ll come to care for her when you are removed from the distraction of this enchantress. And should you find the MacDonald lass less than satisfactory, I’m certain you will have any number of mistresses to still your needs. Women have always gladly lifted their skirts and parted their knees for you.”

  Killian’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. The guards sprang to his side and roughly grabbed his arms.

  “There is no need to restrain my nephew.”

  “Should his weapon be collected, Milord?”

  “No, he may keep his sword. My nephew is a not a stupid or impulsive man. He knows what penalty would befall him should he attempt any harm of the O’Brien.”

  “You cannot force me to marry a woman I do not love!”

 
“The truth of the matter, Killian, is that I can. The alliance with her clan is necessary, and this love you speak of is no more substantial than tales of fairies. You are young and do not yet understand that love is fickle and fleeting. You will marry the Scot. That will be the end of it! Believe me, I was no more eager to marry Lady Siobhan than you are to wed the Scot. She was a druid priestess for Christ’s sake, and our family staunch Catholics, devout Christians. It was heresy to be sure to unite with a pagan clan, but it was necessary for the betterment of the O’Briens. You will accept your fate, Killian. You have little choice in the matter if you want to gain your father’s title, his castle, and his land.”

  “I will relinquish my title, and to hell with the land and the castle. ’Tis a pile of rock put together centuries ago by men whose names I do not know. And my father would understand; he would see me as happily wed as he was with my mother.”

  “No Killian, you cannot!” cried Alainn.

  “Ah, so the healer speaks. She has kept silent her bitter tongue for longer than I believed possible. But, you might listen to her. She is not worth the consideration of giving up all that will be yours.”

  “Truth be told, Uncle, she is all that I care about and I would give up more than you know to share my life with her.”

  “I sympathize with your plight, lad, for I well know the affect she has on a man. I still feel an aching in my loins for the temptress after being with her myself.”

  Killian lunged for him.

  “How dare you! I did not think you would sink so low as to fabricate such matters!”

  “She did not inform you of our time together in the great hall?” the O’Brien asked, a crafty gleam in his eye. “We spent a most memorable time there.”

  Killian glanced at Alainn. Her eyes were filled with despair.

  “Aye, I heard how you beat her for taking your horse.”

  “I warrant much she did not reveal the details in their entirety.”

  “What are you saying, Uncle?”

  “Why do you suppose she was not hanged, or lashed at the very least?”

  Killian looked from his uncle to Alainn, and his face turned to a sickly pallor.

  “You raped her?”

  “Did I rape you, girl?”

  “No!” she whispered vehemently.

  “Why you vile, lecherous liar!” Killian spat, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Why would you make such filthy statements? You only wish to tear us apart. You had to know when I left it was Alainn I intended to be with.”

  “Did you mention who you planned to marry? You only said it was a commoner. It could have been most anyone, Killian. You have an affinity for bedding peasant girls, the miller’s daughter, the cobbler’s, the tailor’s. Shall I go on?”

  “I cannot believe you did not know.”

  “Is that why you enlisted my captain’s son to protect the girl? And instead, she ran off with him and the cook’s son. Took them both to an inn in Galway. Spent the entire night with them, I am told. Can you not see what a wanton woman she is? How little she cares for you and your reputation? Really, Killian, she is a trite, sullied little whore. How many others do you think she has been with?”

  Killian tackled his uncle onto the hard stone floor, grabbed his throat, and squeezed as the older man kicked and thrashed. The guards fell upon them, trying to pull Killian from his kin, and, with considerable effort, succeeding.

  “Should we take him to the dungeon, Milord?”

  The O’Brien held his hand to his throat.

  “No, I think that will not be necessary,” he rasped. “He cannot be flayed for being passionate. ’Tis an O’Brien trait. He will see reason soon enough.”

  “You’d best take me to the dungeon if you don’t want your chieftain dead!” Killian shouted, struggling to escape the guards.

  “Killian, you must refrain from this!” Alainn pleaded.

  “I will not allow him to cheapen you with his vicious lies and insinuations!”

  “Tell him girl,” his uncle sneered. “Tell him you were with me, that I know you as he knows you.”

  “No one knows me as Killian does.”

  “I assure you, I know what it is to have your woman, Killian. I know what desires of the flesh she inflicts. I realize what you will be sacrificing to end what the two of you share, for I can barely fight the seductress and would like nothing more than to throw her down upon that very bed and have her even now. For her skin is as smooth as any I have touched, and her breasts as delightful. I think my cock will never feel such entire satisfaction.”

  “You will die by my hand, Uncle, mark my words!” Killian cried. “If you utter one more word, I swear I will see you dead by my sword!” The two guards strained to keep the man from hurling himself at his uncle.

  “Ask my priest if you will not take my word for it, for he happened upon us and witnessed some of our time together. Do you actually believe she would not offer herself to me to save herself a lashing? And are you so vain to think you would be the only man she would ever service? I am the O’Brien! When she heard you were off fetching your promised bride, when she learned of all the women before her, she was not unwilling. In truth, I have never seen such a spirited young vixen when it came to it.”

  “She would not be with you, I know her! You have no proof, and I would take her word above yours any day!”

  “So its proof you need?” he asked, his voice sly. “The wee soft tuft she possesses is nearly the same shade as her lovely locks.” He ran his tongue over his upper lip. “And as soft as eider down.”

  Killian threw the two men off him as though they were twigs, grabbed his sword, and placed it to his uncle’s throat.

  “Killian, you will be hanged!” Alainn screamed. The tiny peat fire roared into flames that caught hold of the bedding and the cape upon it. She shrieked in terror as her skirts caught fire. Killian dropped his sword and ran to her, pulled off his overcoat, and extinguished the flames with the garment.

  “I do hope the fire did no damage to those lovely silken legs. It would be a pity to have another scar on that otherwise flawless body.”

  Both Killian and Alainn stared at the man as he spoke.

  “Another scar to match the one above her right nipple.”

  Killian’s head jerked back as if he’d been struck. He looked at Alainn and his eyes were filled with accusations of betrayal.

  “Take him to his bedchamber and lock the door. He will be needed in the bouts tomorrow so a night in the dungeon would not be beneficial to the outcome. Take the girl, and see to it she has a cell to herself. There is no need to cause a riot over which prisoner will have her first. She has been promised to Liam O’Hara, and though the farmer has been warned she’s no virgin, I think he would not take kindly to having his new bride raped by the lot of them and unable to partake in the wedding night activities sure to happen this mid-week.”

  Killian slipped a dagger from a concealed pocket of his tunic and hurled it at his uncle. The man, who was swifter on his feet than he appeared, jumped out of its path, but it sliced his shoulder. Deep red blood poured from the gash. Alainn watched the hilt of the guard’s sword slam down upon Killian’s head, and in her terror, her powers took a course she could not control. The guard’s swords flew from their hands, met in mid-air, and drove into their chests. She pulled her own dagger from her pocket, and her eyes blazing with rage, she hurried toward the chieftain. He unsheathed his sword, knelt, and held it against Killian’s throat as he lay unconscious upon the floor.

  “Go on then,” hissed the chieftain, his eyes daring her to continue. She stepped back and dropped her weapon. “Call off whatever unnatural powers you possess, woman. My priest believes you are a daughter of the devil and thinks you should burn for your evil deeds. I may be inclined to agree with him after this night’s events. If you had simply done as you were instructed and kept your distance from my nephew, all this evening’s unpleasantness would not have been necessary.”

  “I tr
ied to leave, I meant to stay away. I had no knowledge I would meet up with Killian in Galway. Please tell me you will see no harm come to Killian, and you must allow me to go free.”

  “What do you have to bargain with?”

  “I will no longer encourage Killian.”

  “By the look he just gave you, he’ll not be wanting any further dealings with you. He will clearly never trust you again.”

  “Nor you, Hugh O’Brien, but I do have a powerful asset with which to bargain. I have means to end the curse.”

  “How could you possibly bring an end to it?”

  “I am the daughter of the Glade Witch.”

  The man’s jaw dropped open.

  “But what inducement would you have to end this curse when my nephew is promised to the Scot? Why would you aid the O’Briens?”

  Alainn held her head up, and, though her eyes were filled with tears, she spoke with sincerity. “Even if he is never to be mine, I love him entirely and want him to know happiness, to produce many fine children. And I want that for your sons as well. Don’t think I do any of this for you, Hugh O’Brien, for if it were only you made to suffer by my mother’s curse, I would gladly watch you live out your days in utter misery. I ask that, you will see no harm to Killian and let me go free.” She added as if in afterthought, “And I shall want the brown mare Killian recently gave me and the oldest of your dogs.”

  The man took a few moments to consider her words as if looking for a deception.

  “You shall have what you ask for,” he said finally. “But you are my servant and my word will still be abided. Your services as a healer will be required, and you will continue to work with my physician, assisting him wherever necessary. Since my sons and nephew are not yet wed, there is surely no need to hasten; the prospects of a child are surely still many months away.”