Lost in the Mist of Time

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  “Fair enough, but do ye mind if I have something to quench my thirst?” She could hear the amusement in his voice, but she refused to let down her guard. Dougray’s father or not, she didn’t know what this man wanted. As far as she was concern, he was the one behind all their troubles. He already had staged his death. What else was he capable of? She nodded to Fiach, “Give him a drink, will you? I am anxious to hear the gentleman’s explanation.”

  Shane drank deeply from the goblet Fiach had handed him before he sat down and raised his eyes to Aislinn, who still had not relented. “I can only assume that ye heard the story of our demise, Lady Mary and myself of course.”

  “You had supposedly lost your lives in a fire. I can see that you escaped. Did your wife fare as well?”

  “She did and is in hiding.”

  Aislinn lost some her hostility for curiosity won out. “But why? Dougray thought you both were dead. Why would you do that?”

  “Simply because we thought it would protect him. My daughter Miriam was safe for she married an English advocate and they would not look at her with suspicion, but Dougray was a different story. My wife’s father, the man you met the other evening, Sir Richard Halstead tried to make the path easier for my son, but I am afraid Dougray had too much of my blood coursing through his veins. He wouldn’t conform to the Tudor King’s thinking, and well, I can relate to the feeling. His life was forfeited the moment he decided to step foot on Irish soil. He conformed back to the old ways that he once knew as a boy, and all the training that was drilled in his head of the English rule was cast aside. The Tudor King was aware of it, and it was obvious to his followers as well, but the English were not all that threatened by my son. The Chieftains did not trust him either. He was damned, so to speak, no matter where his loyalties were placed.

  “It was unfortunate that Ella Butler got in the way. She was murdered in my son’s stead, a mere accident but one that still was to be to an advantage for the crown. The truce between the Butlers and the Fitzpatricks was a fragile one. The marriage was to have strengthened this truce, and it might have worked if Ella had lived.

  “Fingham Butler was never known for his forgiveness on any account, and the death of his only daughter would not go without revenge being sought. Dougray by all means should have been eliminated by now and so thought others, but they failed to realize that Dougray was not softened by English luxury, rather it made him harder in his resolve to be exactly the opposite. He fought back. Seeing that Butler’s attempts were failing, they tried other tactics making it look like each clan was viciously attacking the other.”

  “So it would come to a full-out clan war.”

  “Ye catch on quickly, milady.” Shane did not hide his admiration.

  “Then there would have to be spies within each of the clans to raise these suspicions.”

  “Right again. I am trying to disclose the truth and end this charade before it is too late. Mary and I have given up so much to insure the safety of all that reside at Dunhaven, and we will not let anyone stop us now.”

  “But if he’s doomed by the crown and by his own people, what can you do to prevent it?”

  She saw Shane and Fiach exchange an uneasy glance. Obviously they had already discussed the options. “What is it?” she coaxed them. “What must be done?”

  “Dougray will have to vanish,” Shane answered her solemnly.

  “You can’t be serious. He won’t abandon the people of Dunhaven.”

  “Then he will die,” the older man stated forcefully, the lines of worry etching deeper into his face.

  “Okay, wait a minute. There must be another way. Let’s just say that he agrees to your plan to disappear. What happens to Dunhaven and everyone there?”

  “A truce can be made for all, if a Butler were to marry into the clan. They are in good standards with the crown, and their loyalties will not be questioned.”

  “But who? You only had two children…Miriam? You would have her marry another old man. It is not only cruel….”

  “Not Lord Fingham, his nephew Tremain.”

  “Tremain?” Her brows arched as she remembered the man who had captured her.

  “I see ye know whom I speak of.”

  “Oh we’ve met,” she said, “but what makes you think that Miriam would even consider this? She seems very happy of her status as is.” She decided not to let on how thrilled Miriam would be at the prospect of marrying her one true love.

  “Even if I didn’t know better, my daughter would do what was expected of her. But I’m positive, this time, it will not be a sacrifice on her part. You see, Miriam is in love with Tremain and has been since she was a young lass.

  I know for a fact the man is in love with her.”

  “Then why, in God’s name, did you not let the two marry in the first place?”

  “It is not as easy as it may seem. Tremain is Fingham’s illegitimate nephew though highly favored. The drawback is that he has no land, and therefore no means to care for my daughter. He was beneath her in status. But now there is a way this can be rectified.” Shane paused to make sure she was following where he was going with this. “Dougray was knighted, and can grant the lands to Tremain, thus securing Dunhaven from the throne. The Butlers may openly show allegiance to the crown, but they are still Irish, and that is better than having an English lord take what is not his. Besides, Tremain’s heir is a Fitzpatrick.”

  “You knew Oren was Tremain’s son?” Shane nodded.

  Aislinn’s mind was reeling and needed to sit down. Fiach was good enough to offer her a seat and also pour her a drink. “Ye will feel better with a little wine to calm yer nerves.” She gladly accepted.

  “Ye do realize,” Shane spoke again. “That time is of the essence. This last attempt was too close. Dougray will have to make the choice now.”

  “Where is he supposed to go?”

  Shane misinterpreted her worries. “Ye need not fear; we will make arrangements for ye to go with him. This is yer wish, is it not?”

  “My place is at his side.”

  “Good. Now we must find Dougray.” Shane had been watching Aislinn and he knew that she seemed preoccupied with something more than just what they were discussing. “Do ye have a misgiving?”

  She looked to Fiach and her eyes wandered to the journal that was on the table. She was worried for she had read Fiach’s words. She had viewed Dougray’s broken remains, but possibly they still had a chance. Maybe her sole purpose of being here was to save him. Neala claimed that she couldn’t change what was meant to be, but perhaps that was it. Maybe she was to prevent Dougray from being taken in the first place. It was worth a shot, because no matter what happened, she had no intention of letting him go without a fight. “Do you have a suspicion of who is behind all this?”

  “Is it not obvious? It is the Tudor King who had grand ideas to be King of Ireland and wants all to bow down to him. He has put out the word to subdue Dougray for his outspoken views, and his alliances with chieftains who will never conform to what he will demand of them. He nearly eliminated all the Geraldines, and tried to end my dear sweet Mary’s life as well as my own. Dougray is a mere inconvenience to him, but also one that would benefit as an example. He took in my son, treated him as well as if he was his own, and now Dougray spits in his face.”

  “I get it already. The king wishes him dead, but who did he send to do the job?”

  “Someone close enough to betray him,” Shane told her.

  Again she looked at Fiach, for he was the one that had written the words that he should have known.

  “What is it, lass?” The priest could sense she was holding something back. “You may find this odd, but I have to mention it in hopes that it will trigger something in your memory. You of all people know Dougray. You could save him for I know that you will recognize the threat. I just hope that I can prompt you to see it before it is too late. Please come back to Dunhaven with us.”

  “If I was aware of the culprit, he would not b
e drawing another breath,” Fiach said.

  “I’m sorry, Father Fiach, but I am so worried. If anything were to happen to Dougray, I….” She choked back a sob. She already knew how he died. How could she ever explain that to them?

  Fiach put an arm around her. “There, there, lass. I will return to Dunhaven.”

  “It will have to be now,” Shane interrupted. “My son thought to send Aislinn to her uncle’s, but I say that she will be of help to us there. It will be dangerous. Will ye go?”

  “You can count on it.”

  Shane nodded proudly. She was indeed worthy to be called Scathach.

  Fiach made the arrangements for the meeting, which Dougray had mixed feelings about. His parents had basically lied to him, letting him believe that they were dead, when all along they had managed to put a substantial allowance aside, so that they could live comfortably in Italy. He understood they were trying to do what was best for Miriam and him for he would do anything to make sure that Aislinn was safe from harm’s way, but they had abandoned the people of Dunhaven, letting them fend for themselves.

  Both men’s steel-gray eyes stared each other down. They were so similar in height and coloring, but the similarities did not stop there. They possessed the same stubborn streak that would not allow them to bend to anyone’s will.

  “I have no wish to abandon Dunhaven as ye saw fit to do,” Dougray stated flatly.

  “I did it to save them since the Tudor King did his best to set raids upon us, picking us off one by one. I had hopes that ye would have the blessing from him, and so it seemed ye did for awhile.”

  “He was the one to knight me and grant me the lands. Why would he see fit to eliminate me now?”

  “Ye did not conform to his liking. The man changes his mind on a daily basis, doing away with those he called friend a moment before.”

  “I have the backing of the O’Malley and of the Burkes. They will come to my aid.”

  “And they may, but they are far away with their own affairs that keep them occupied. It would be only a matter of time before they pull their forces back to sustain their holdings.”

  Dougray was pacing as he mulled everything over. “Ye ask me to grant lands to my enemy. Tremain has done me no favors, and I cannot see why I should assist him now.”

  His father explained with patience, “Ye told me yerself that ye wished to find peace with the Butlers. This is the only way. And ye will be able secure Dunhaven without jeopardizing the people ye care for. But most of all, Dougray, ye will have a chance to live. Do ye not want children of yer own?” He watched his son’s feature’s change, gentling at the mention of a family, and he took the information and forged forward. “Ye have a wife to consider. Ye owe her to keep her safe. If ye do not follow my suggestion, it will be a cold bed she comes home to.”

  Dougray ran his hand through his hair. A suffocating sensation tightened his throat for he was torn between what he wanted to do. He had dreamt of rebuilding Dunhaven and it was in his grasps, but he obviously would have to fight for it, causing more death than need be. Aislinn had told him she would stand by his side, no matter what he chose. If they left for Italy, he may be eliminating her chances of finding a way back home, but if they stayed, she would be in danger of losing her life. The attempts could not be ignored. He loved her beyond words. Safety first, and if they could somehow come back to Ireland, they would. He impatiently pulled his drifting thoughts together and faced his father. “What do I have to do?”

  Chapter 73

  As soon as Dougray returned back to Dunhaven, he was met with the news of Cahir’s death. He paced the length of the library where he was meeting privately with Hamish and Murrough.

  “It seemed odd to me, milord,” Hamish began his account of what had transpired since his return to Dunhaven. “There was someone who entered the physician’s room where I was hiding and took the bottle that I told ye about, as if it belonged to him. And that very day, I came upon Cahir’s body.

  I apologize for I did not see the man’s face, and I cannot say if he was the one to hold accountable for Cahir’s death. As far as anyone knew, Cahir had gone out alone to gather herbs.”

  “A deliberate act to silence?” Murrough spoke, making Dougray stop his pacing.

  “Or of what he could have proven. As of right now, we only have suspicions of the poisoning. Perhaps Cahir had been innocent of these acts we silently accused him of. The real culprit might have felt threatened, and knew that Cahir would be able to prove poison was involved. Possibly he may have been able to point a finger to who was responsible.”

  Fiach had remained silent up until now, trying to put the pieces of the missing puzzle together. “Did it appear like Cahir struggled?” he asked.

  Hamish thought about it for a moment, before he answered. “Nay. It was a quick slice to the throat”

  “Cahir must have known his assailant and didn’t expect to be slain.” Dougary mulled over the information.

  Fiach nodded his head. “Hamish, was there anything ye noticed that seemed out of the ordinary?”

  “Well….” Then he shook his head as to dismiss what he was going to say. “Anything could help. Even if ye are not sure if it makes a difference or not,” the priest encouraged him.

  “Well Cahir’s hand had spots of blood on it as though he might have clutched his throat. But the odd thing of it was it looked like he had wiped his hand on something. Part of his palm was perfectly clean, but there was not a hand print on his clothing. It was as if the assailant had wiped Cahir’s hand before he had left.”

  “Does seem a bit odd.” Fiach nodded his head, but for the life him he couldn’t imagine the purpose. He wanted to find the answers for he couldn’t help but think that they were running out of time.

  Aislinn’s words had haunted Fiach. She seemed to think that he should know whom they were dealing with, but he didn’t know. Cahir had been the only suspect and he was dead.

  He was still with those thoughts when he came across Abbot Kirwan, who was crossing the courtyard on his way to the chapel. Kirwan fell into step beside him. “Ye looked troubled, Father Fiach.”

  “Nay, just lost in thought is all and maybe a little tired.” “Come with me to the chapel and sit awhile.”

  Fiach could see no reason not to. Matter of fact, a little prayer might even help to solve this mystery. “I would like that.”

  “Have ye come any closer in solving poor Cahir’s murder?”

  “Nay, it is still a mystery to why someone would go to such trouble.” “What do ye have there?” Kirwan nodded toward the book he was holding.

  “Just my writings and prayers.”

  “Really. I would be interested in….” He reached for the book causing Fiach to drop it. “I’m sorry.” Kirwan would have picked it up but Fiach had already bent down.

  “It’s all right,” he picked up the book that was near Kirwan’s feet and noticed that the man’s robes had a stain near the bottom hem. It surprised him for the man was always so careful about his appearance. He stood now. “I will have to pass with ye reading my words. It is private. Ye do understand?”

  His beady eyes strayed to the leather-bound book as though he wanted to insist, but then he raised his gaze and smiled. “Of course.”

  Chapter 74

  Abbot Kirwan found Aislinn in the library browsing through the shelves. This was another habit of hers that thoroughly annoyed him. It wasn’t her right for she was just a woman who couldn’t fully understand the consequences of what she was reading.

  Today, though, he would hold his tongue. “Milady?” She looked up. Having her attention, he continued, “I would not bother ye, but I saw the boy leave the castle.”

  “Declan?” She had already put the book down.

  “Aye, milady. I know how ye worry about the lad and thought it was best that I inform ye.”

  “He shouldn’t be out alone. It’s not safe. Thank you, Abbot Kirwan, I will go after him at once.” She hurried out the door and to
ok the steps as fast as she could down the winding stairs. She didn’t even pause to find Teige to go with her. She had her sword and she would be back before anyone knew she was gone.

  As she came out into the courtyard, she saw a wisp of Declan’s blond hair as he trotted past the guards that were too busy talking to notice a small boy going out of the gate.

  She hurried forward, knowing she had to find him quickly before Dougray heard of this. He had only allowed them to come back to Dunhaven on strict orders that they were not to leave the castle doors. She had not wanted to spend another moment away from his side, so she had given him her word.

  What in the world possessed the small boy to disobey those orders?

  She was almost through the gate when one of the guards took notice and halted her. “Milady, ye are not to leave the grounds.”

  “This I know, but you failed to stop Declan from going. Let me pass and I will not report this to my husband.” The guard backed away not wanting to have any trouble.

  “As ye wish, milady.”

  She was frantic to find Declan but it was like he had disappeared. She was about to go back for help, when she caught sight of his blond head. He was crouched down picking wild flowers, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Declan, what are you doing out here all alone? You know it is not safe to wander so far away from the keep.” The little boy’s smile faded from his face. She felt awful that she had allowed her own fear to make her speak so harshly. She smiled shakily. “It’s all right, Declan.” She motioned him to come to her. “We must get back. Come on.”

  He walked over to her handing her the flowers. “They’re for ye.”

  “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She smiled warmly down at him. “Come now before someone realizes we’re missing.” She took his hand to hurry him along. It was most likely her imagination, but she had an uneasy feeling like they were being watched.