“Galen, send one of the men to fetch the surgeon. We’ll need strips of clean cloth and hot water.”
As the butler hurried down the hall, Maológ knelt in front of his niece, alarmed at both the news and her condition. She winced as he began inspecting the raw gash in the back of her head. “What happened?” he asked.
“We were chased by armed brigands. The carriage overturned. When I awoke, Mother and Father were gone. So were the horses, outriders, and driver. I searched for them but fear they may have been thrown. The carriage is perched next to a steep ravine. With the storm, I’m not sure it will hold much longer. They may be injured.”
Or worse, she thought.
The lump in Maológ’s chest started to evolve into a simmering rage. “Aisling, the surgeon should be here soon. Stay with Galen. I’ll go look for them and find out who did this.”
As he embraced her, he turned and muttered, “And they will be dead.”
The riders assembled in the courtyard, their torches illuminating the trees and casting phantom shadows into the night. In addition to the men on horseback, there were wagons equipped with rope, water, and medical supplies.
Aisling watched them depart in a cloud of dust, the horses’ hooves crunching against the courtyard stones before they were swallowed up by the darkness.
She remembered the items father entrusted to her for safekeeping. She needed to hide them from prying eyes.
Galen returned at that moment to treat her injuries, so she deferred to his ministration while mulling over her plan of action.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Lady Aisling?” he asked, lowering his glasses and peering over the rims.
“Thank you, please have the cook make something to eat.”
“Yes, of course, right away.”
Aisling listened to Galen’s footsteps echoing through the vast gallery, then stood and steadied herself against the back of the chaise. She walked to the entrance and mounted the grand staircase, looking at the rotunda below. As she crossed the landing, she remembered that her maid, Erin, had been given the night off. Several of the male servants had accompanied the rescue party. The house was veiled in silence. She was grateful for the chance to inspect the key and necklace without the usual interruptions.
Aisling opened the door to her bedroom and proceeded to the adjoining sitting area. At the center of the room was a fireplace, flanked by pale blue velvet wing chairs. Against the wall was a mahogany desk. She extracted the items from her clothing and wondered where her father had obtained them, and why they were important.
Some time later, a knock interrupted her focus. It was Galen, announcing the arrival of the surgeon. Aisling pressed a lever at the bottom of the escritoire to reveal a hidden drawer. She laid the treasures inside and hurried down the staircase.
After his brief visit, Aisling thanked the surgeon as he packed his medical bag.
“That’s a serious bump on your head. You’ll need to stay awake for a few more hours. Try to get some rest. Redress your wounds.”
“Thank you, Patrick, I will. Galen will show you to the door.”
As the clicking of footsteps receded, Aisling made her way to the Grand Hall. There were muffled sounds of horses and riders returning from the rescue party.
The wagons were empty. She scanned the crowd for Maológ.
As their eyes met, all of her hopes evaporated.
CHAPTER TWO
A DAY AT THE ABBEY
Aisling made her way up the path, bordered by stone walls on each side. She pushed open the gate to the burial ground and joined the other mourners who congregated on the hill. Her uncle, an array of friends, local gentry, servants, and seamen attended the commemoration. She was comforted to see her cousins, Ryen and Sean, the sons of her deceased aunts Brigid and Grace, sisters of Michael and Maológ.
Aisling gazed at the tidal estuary below, where small boats clustered at the edge of the ancient grounds, their occupants come to pay their respects. Father and Mother would have been pleased to see so many old friends, she thought. The soft drizzle cast a gray mist over the barren, rocky vista. A breeze swept through the cemetery and made distant keening sounds as it traveled through the cloister, nave, and surrounding structure, decayed from centuries of ravage.
The flowers had long gone, leaving a desolate and monochromatic landscape. Centuries of graves were organized into discrete sections and bounded by low stone walls. The newest cold slabs were punctuated by fresh mounds of dirt that lay in front of the markers.
In Loving Memory.
The past few days had been a blur, and yet it felt like a lifetime. She knelt and held her hand over their final resting places, the rain mixing with her tears.
It was inconceivable that one of her parents should die. To have them both leave her was unbearable. As she surveyed the mourners, she realized how many lives they had touched. These people here had depended upon them for their livelihood. She was starting to realize the importance of carrying on her father’s legacy. Her one consolation was the support of her uncle.
I hope that remains the case, she thought with growing trepidation. I’ll need to tell him about our new destination. She ran her hand through her hair and tried to ignore her feelings of discomfort.
Maológ was bereft. He couldn’t remember his last conversation with his brother and sister-in-law. It wasn’t anything special, just a typical exchange about their upcoming sea voyage. He recalled that his brother seemed adamant about including Aisling in their planning.
As siblings, he and Michael had been there for each other, but most of the time that meant providing support for their shipping business. Michael was never one to confide his innermost thoughts. There was, though, one exception.
When his wife was expecting Aisling, Lord Bailey was away at sea. Stranded on the French coast due to bad weather, he had sent his brother a request to stay with Colleen. He was worried about her health and wanted someone he trusted to serve as her protector. For Maológ, it was a time he would never forget.
When his brother married, Maológ had envied his choice of bride. Colleen was young and beautiful. She also possessed an inner confidence and sense of humor that intrigued him. He knew this was a woman he could begin to love, so he kept a polite distance—that is, until Michael requested his support. He had been happy to oblige.
As they spent time together, Maológ looked forward to seeing Colleen. She read him stories while they sat by the fire. He accompanied her on shopping trips to the village. They ate in the dining hall sitting side by side, unlike the meals he shared with his brother where they sat at opposite ends of the table, constrained by emotional and physical distance.
One night, Colleen went into labor. A rider was dispatched to locate the surgeon, who was away on a remote call. Maológ was able to secure a midwife but was concerned when she arrived at the estate dirty and unwashed after delivering another baby. It was one of the few times when he struggled to control his emotions.
“Madam, stop. Do not take one step closer until you have cleaned yourself up from your last venture,” he said through gritted teeth. He motioned to a passing servant. “Fetch soap and water, now. And find some fresh clothes.” He turned to the midwife, shaking his head at her state. “I don’t know what you’ve come from, but I’ll not have you touching Lady Bailey until you are washed.”
Unused to being challenged and her expertise impugned, the midwife retreated in a huff. Rather than withdrawing from the scene, Maológ supervised the birth with a watchful eye, sitting by Colleen and holding her hand. Seeing her in pain was unbearable, but after several hours of support and encouragement, her daughter was born.
Two days later, childbed fever set in. Colleen suffered from severe stomach pain. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Maológ held her hand and told her stories of the sea. He regaled her with his adventures in Lisbon, Seville, and Venice. He ordered the servants to make compresses to draw down her temperature. When she slept, he sat for hours wi
th Aisling, feeding her, answering her cries, and rocking to the sounds of his briny ballads. In those hours before dawn, he and the baby shared a soulful connection and a fervent prayer that Colleen would recover.
He worried and fretted for two days. Those were the worst days of his life. He would never forgive her for that.
On the third day, she awoke and smiled at him. Maológ’s tension dissolved as he rushed to her side and clasped her hand, afraid to let go for fear that he would lose her again.
Maológ had never prepared himself for this day. In fact, he had always imagined that both Michael and Colleen would outlive him by many years. Since he was always at sea, in dangerous situations, he assumed that he would be the first with a grave marker on the abbey hill.
He felt an overwhelming guilt. He mourned for his older brother. But he was inconsolable over the loss of Colleen.
His thoughts turned to Aisling. She looked so pale and vulnerable across from him. As he glanced in her direction, he vowed to protect her the way he tried to support her mother. For the last few days, he had been developing a plan to keep her safe. What he hadn’t yet revealed to her was that the outriders her father had hired were part of a conspiracy to do them harm. When he had sent Ryen and Sean down the side road during the search, they had found no signs of blackguards. He therefore believed that the liveried staff had plotted to harm Michael and Colleen.
Even more concerning was that those two individuals could not have been the only ones involved. Several more accomplices would have been needed for an operation that complex. Maológ scowled and vowed to root out the offending parties. But first, he needed to find sanctuary for his niece. He glanced at her face, which was drawn and pale.
Aisling looked down at her father’s headstone. She had spent so much time with him during the last few years, but now she wondered if she knew him at all.
The night the rescue party returned, she thought she was having a vivid nightmare. Maológ had ushered her into the library, to the armchair near the fireplace.
“My dear, I have dreadful news,” he said. “The carriage was discovered at the bottom of the ravine. Some personal effects were found. I’m afraid your parents are both dead.”
Aisling heard his words, but they sounded distant, unreal. It was as though she were standing outside on a cold, bitter night, gazing through a frosty window to watch life unfold on the other side of the glass.
As soon as her uncle had ridden away from the estate the morning after the search, she extracted the key from her desk and headed for the library. She entered the room and secured the door behind her. She had never understood why her father always said “one must be invited into the study,” but now appreciated the implications.
The inner sanctum contained his deepest secrets.
She crossed the room and glanced at her surroundings. Her eyes scanned the imposing mahogany desk, lush oriental carpets, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Along the opposite wall, symmetrical arched windows with dark glass cloaked the room in permanent shade.
Aisling hurried to the shelf and removed a copy of Annals of the Four Masters. Behind the tome, there was a lock. She inserted the key and twisted. A panel in the bookcase opened.
Aisling walked in and closed the door behind her.
Although it was daylight, the room was dark. She lit a candle and surveyed the space. There were two levels. On the ground floor was a desk with writing materials and bookshelves. A narrow staircase led to a loft.
From the rectangular mahogany table in the garret, Aisling looked out over the lower chamber then turned her attention to the loft itself; piles of notebooks dominated the space. The walls were covered with detailed maps of countries and trading routes, with notations next to several dozen locations. She sat at the table and pulled out the first note addressed to her.
My dear Aisling,
If you are reading this letter, it is because I am no longer with you. Aisling, you are now in charge of the family’s merchant business, including our fleet of ships, army of men, warehouses at various ports, and acquired property. But the greatest gift I bestow upon you does not lie among material goods.
You have the ability to change four elements of nature: sky, earth, fire and water.
Aisling, your powers are so immense that our enemies will spend years trying to steal them. You will affect peoples’ lives, and therefore must be wise about where and how you deploy your hidden strengths.
I hold these same talents and have passed them along to you, through birth. No one else in our family possesses these abilities or has knowledge about our legacy. You are special. Until you have a child to inherit these gifts, keep these secrets safe. When you choose to marry, you will need to make a decision about disclosing your powers. I trust you will make the right one.
The book Annals of the Four Masters contains coded notes about your talents, and ways to activate them. When you are in doubt, use it as a reference.
During my lifetime I was part of a secret network that included others with the same gifts. You must reach out to these members and use your talents to support them. This will require you to take the merchant fleet and travel to many places. Your first mission is to help an ally in the East Kingdom. Set up a new trading route there and make your presence known.
To keep your powers, you will need to pass a test. You have twelve months to achieve your first objective. The details are contained within your Book of Magic.
I’ve left you additional letters.
Read the second one when you have accomplished your first mission. When you’ve returned to Ireland, open the others as you see fit.
A few words of caution.
There are consequences to using your power. These are different for each person, and you must discover the implications for yourself.
Practice and perfect your skills. Some members of our secret society have defected to pursue the dark arts. One day you will face these enemies and will need compelling strategies to defeat them.
Use your special gifts to promote good. Do not dwell upon my death or use your abilities for revenge.
I will see you again, someday. Until then, know that you are loved.
Father
Aisling sat at the table, reviewing the notes. She shook her head. Inherited powers? Was this why he and Mother were killed? From the letter, it was clear that the information was undisclosed, even to the immediate family.
Does the network know that I now have these ‘gifts’? And the test. What must I do to succeed? A year seemed short, given the voyage into unchartered territory.
As she searched for more clues, she noticed a reference to a gilded sword. Casting aside the papers, she scanned the loft and spied a case tucked beneath the mahogany table. She dragged it into the open and lifted the cover. Her eyes widened.
Inside was a dagger, with a jeweled handle in shades of amber, emerald, red, and blue. The colorful stones match the necklace Mother gave me, she thought. She picked up the instrument with both hands and examined it from all angles. Despite the murky lighting, it shimmered, casting iridescent hues across the room. Upon closer inspection, the gleaming surface appeared new.
She placed the dagger in its scabbard. The book instructed her to conceal it in her magic pocket. This would enable her to store her Book of Magic and tools near her person, and retrieve them when needed, without alerting others of their presence. The notes also said she would soon be visited by a wizard, who could be called upon to help. Her mind raced as she realized how much there was to learn. With a flurry of activity, she arranged the papers and navigated her return to the library.
Aisling’s recollection was interrupted by the low voices of the mourners as they said their final goodbyes to her mother and father. She glanced at her uncle. He had no idea that his life was about to change. They were going to the East Kingdom.
Now, she needed to convince him.
After everyone had gone, Aisling and Maológ stood alone on the hill. Amidst the thunder, gray c
louds swept in and hovered overhead.
“Uncle, I’ve received instructions from Father.”
“What?”
“Before the accident, he asked that we set up a trading route to the East Kingdom. We must leave right away.”
“Your father had good intentions, but the fact is that someone killed him. I don’t know who. I’ll not have you risk your life until we’ve identified our enemies.”
“If his attackers are close, then won’t I be safer at sea?”
“No, Aisling, an undertaking like that is risky. It’s a treacherous journey. I’m sure he meant that you should go there, when you’re older. Our merchant fleet is scheduled to make a number of voyages soon. You must stay here.”
Aisling whirled around to face Maológ.
“Uncle, I am responsible for the merchant business now. Your support is important to me. You’re the expert when it comes to sailing, but I will protect what’s mine. Father told me I would be commander of the fleet, and I intend to lead the voyage.”
He sighed. “Be reasonable. I will keep you informed of progress and send messages to you from each of the ports. How could I let you go when I’m not sure I can protect you?”
“I understand you are worried about my safety. You’re right about the risks of such a trip. But we can do this together.”
Maológ exhaled and ran his hand over his forehead. “I’m sorry Aisling, I’ve already made arrangements with the abbey. You’re going to stay there until we get back.Your clothes and books will be delivered tomorrow. I know you don’t understand now, but you will.”
Aisling spun around to see several of her merchant company staff behind her. It appeared they were planning to guard her until the fleet sailed out of the bay. She took a deep breath as she confronted her uncle. “You haven’t even asked me about his final wishes. I’ll not fight my way through your band of armed guards. But this is most disloyal of you.”
“Aisling, dear, I don’t want to make you unhappy. You’ve gone through a tremendous shock. If your father were alive, he would agree with me.”
Princess of Sky, Earth, Fire and Water Page 2