The Seventh Son

by Ashley York

  “My thanks.”

  “Anything for ye, my love.”

  He took her hand in his and they stood at the door.

  “Accept my life as I offer it to ye. I promise to see to yer needs, protect ye always, and love ye. I’ll take no other unto me and my words of faithfulness will never falter,” Malcolm said.

  “I accept yer protection and yer love and offer ye my respect and love, and I will cleave unto ye alone, my husband.”

  Matthew smiled at each of them in turn then raised his hand, his eyes dropping to the opened book.

  “May God add His blessing to this pledge and that Caireann being flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, Malcolm will always care for her even as his own body. And let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled—”

  “Enough, priest! Let us see them married, not cast into hell,” Aodh bellowed.

  Malcolm and Caireann did not turn away from the other.

  Matthew coughed. “Ye may kiss yer bride, Malcolm.”

  Malcolm bent slightly to hold her against his large frame. Caireann went up on tiptoe to press herself to him. Their sweet kiss was met with loud applause. They turned to the priest who offered a kiss of blessing to each of them.

  Tisa wiped her cheeks, her own face hot with emotion. Struggling to take a steady breath, she gathered her composure. She wanted no less than this for her dear friend but had hoped the same for herself. When she turned toward Tadhg, his sad eyes were on her before he turned away to blend in with the rest of the people headed back down the hill.

  “Mistress.” Malcolm held Caireann’s hand. She stood beside him. “I wanted ye to ken we will be back on the first new moon. Dunna fear. Ye are well protected.”

  Tisa cleared her throat. “Ye two spend time together, learn to love each other, and dunna think of things here. We will all be fine.”

  Caireann squeezed her tight, her eyes filled when she withdrew. “Thank ye, Tisa.”

  Malcolm nodded and led his bride down the hill. Tisa was left alone at the top of the hill. Darragh had not been present. There was no doubt that he was with Ian even now. She did not feel much like being with others right now. Her eyes continued to tear up despite her best attempt to stop crying.

  The priest came up beside her.

  “Are they tears of joy for yer friend?” Matthew asked.

  “I do wish her great happiness.”

  He nodded and smiled. That knowing smile that told her he knew she had not answered his actual question but he didn’t press her. When he started to turn, she grabbed at his arm. His glance toward her hand made her aware of how desperately she clutched at him. She loosened her hold.

  “Will ye be allowed to stay on if I ask ye to do so?”

  “I dunna believe Aodh will order me to leave and if ye have need of me, I will certainly stay.”

  “Can we have Vespers this evening?”

  “I will be happy to do that.”

  “My thanks. I will be back before the evening meal.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ~

  AN EARLY SPRING SNOW impeded Aodh’s plans for yard practice the next morning. Tadhg prayed that Cormac had missed the brunt of the bad weather since leaving. The washer woman’s home was a busy place even while the other homes were sealed up tight, no one coming and going. That included Darragh’s house.

  “Settle down, Nell.” The little girl fussed for her mother even as the stiff garment was yanked over her head.

  Tadhg waved when her little head popped through the top of the gown. Nell’s face screwed up just before she let loose a loud wail. He gave her his back and she ceased the sound.

  Five of her siblings made mischief as they waited, pulling at this and playing with that. Barely halfway through the morn and Tadhg again needed a reprieve from the place. He slipped out the door unnoticed.

  The snow fell in thick, wet flakes making any travel extremely difficult. Tadhg breathed in the salt sea air. No doubt the water was covered with frozen whitecaps. He’d heard the waves crashing all night long with a mighty force as he lay awake, thinking over the conversation he’d had with the man in the cave. Probably a bit younger than Tadhg, he had great wisdom. Wishing for the end of his life was no way to live and it offered no honor to the God he believed gave him that life. Mayhap the man knew a way to overcome the eternal bitterness eating away at him.

  Tadhg sloshed his way through the snow, against the driving onslaught, secluding himself in the stable. Enveloped in the warmth, the smell of horses surrounding him, he paused before untying his mount.

  “Easy, now.” He guided it toward the meadow’s edge, waiting until then to jump on top.

  Within the primeval forest, the heavy canopy above held much of the snow at bay. The travel was easy despite occasional plops of heavy snow dropping down on him. Only an eerie silence met him as he plodded back to the hidden entrance of the cave. There was no guarantee the man would be there but with his horse, Tadhg could continue on to wherever he might choose. Mayhap to get some time to himself, think things through on his own if he must.

  “Hello?” His call echoed back to him, the darkness within all encompassing.

  The embers from the day before remained undisturbed, a sure sign that no one else had been there. He paced the small area, turning back toward the opening repeatedly as if he could will the man to return by his own insistence. Leaning against the far wall, he sat to face the opening. The bush hiding the entrance shivered in the wind. A breeze tickled the hair on his hands. This far from the entrance, it couldn’t be wind from outside that he’d felt. He went to all fours and moved closer to the side wall where the other man had found the wood.

  “Hah!” Tadhg stood along the narrow opening that led further into the cave.

  Looking as far as he could, there was no light, no sound but the wind whistled through. It must lead to the outside. He turned sideways to slide along the cold wall and was rewarded by a greater opening with high ceilings and low sloping walls all around.

  “Hello?”

  He found a small pile of smoldering embers in the center. Someone had been there just a short time before. Mayhap they would return.

  The darkness here was complete with no light source beyond the glow of the dying embers. The warmth from the fire hung on and he removed his brat, shaking off the melting snow before settling on top of it.

  A strange little place of refuge yet he felt peaceful here. Mayhap it was unburdening himself to the stranger. Mayhap it was finally speaking from his heart of his anguish. The peace wrapped around him and he was in no hurry to return.

  “Oh!” The stranger passed through, startling Tadhg and he stood.

  “I dinna think ye stayed here,” Tadhg said.

  The white of the stranger’s teeth indicated he smiled and it warmed Tadhg’s heart.

  “Aye. Only when it hails. Did I not mention when it snows as well?”

  Tadhg nodded and sat again. “Oh, I see. And I as well.”

  He indicated the man sit with him on his brat. After a moment’s hesitation, the stranger did sit on the very edge of his overlong covering.

  “I realized although we had spoken to each from our heart, we had not even exchanged names.”

  The other man looked around as if for something in particular.

  “Did ye lose something?” Tadhg asked.

  He cleared his throat. “I am called Ultan.”

  “Ah ‘the saint of orphans and children’. Pleased I am to meet ye, Ultan. I am called Tadhg.”

  “And what brings ye back here this day, Tadhg? Surely ye were not caught out in the storm again. ‘Tis been coming down all night.”

  “I sought ye out. I’d hoped we could speak again.”

  Ultan did not respond. Tadhg could swear the room was suddenly more quiet. He made to get up. “Mayhap we need a fire.”

  “Nae!” Ultan reached a hand toward him. “‘Twill get too warm methinks.”

  “Ye ken best, livin
g here sometimes as ye do.”

  The other man laughed again. The tinkling sound soothing and he settled back down on the brat. He seemed an easy sort. Mayhap that was why Tadhg spoke so forthrightly with him. It really wasn’t like him at all.

  “I thought of what ye said to me,” Tadhg said rather quickly, suddenly afraid he might change his mind.

  Ultan had to turn back to him to answer. “And what was that?”

  Tadhg’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He tried to make out the man’s face but with him still wearing his hooded fur covering, it was impossible. “No way to live—without love I mean.”

  Ultan nodded but remained silent, his face toward him as if he could make out Tadhg’s features just fine.

  “I dunna ken how to move beyond the loss. My heart cries out in agony at the pain I canna show.”

  “Pain ye canna show?”

  Tadhg could see the whites of Ultan’s eyes now and he focused there. “She is the wife of another—the woman I love. I would not take her from the man.” He closed his eyes, battling the anger that felt like a hefty stone lodged where his heart once beat. “She seems quite contented with her lot but her betrayal—taking another unto herself—it burns like fire against my flesh.”

  “‘Tis not betrayal if she was forced by her father to marry another.” Ultan’s voice sharpened as if in anger.

  Had Tadhg explained in such detail? He turned toward the fire where a few embers still glowed. “Women feign their feelings so easily.”

  “When has she shown herself so vile as to do such a thing? If ye loved her once—”

  “I love her still.”

  The quick intake of air pulled Tadhg’s eyes back to the man. No other response. Almost as if the man held his breath, waiting for more information.

  Something stirred in Tadhg’s memory but he pushed it aside. “Nae, she has never been caught in such a lie.”

  “Then why would ye believe her capable of such deceit?”

  Ultan’s tone caused Tadhg’s own defenses to rise. “All women are capable of such deceit.”

  “Capable but not something all women would choose to do,” Ultan replied rather quickly.

  This seemed a moot point to Tadhg. “I disagree.”

  “Why do ye disagree? To say all women will practice deceit is the same as saying all men will practice rape.”

  “Rape? How are they the same?” Tadhg had said nothing about rape.

  “All men are capable of it, are they not?”

  “I suppose,” Tadhg struggled to follow wherever these thoughts were leading.

  “So will all men rape?”

  “Nae! That is a ridiculous thing to say.”

  Ultan turned his small palm up as he spoke. “An example of ill treatment by a man. Deceit is surely as deplorable as rape. The one is bodily forcing another, an intentional act; the other, mentally misleading another, also intentional.”

  Tadhg realized for the first time that the man was not very big at all and wondered at his age.

  “Deceit requires planning and forethought,” Ultan continued. “Not even dismissible by bodily functions that overtook yer mind, as deplorable as that sounds. Deceit requires yer mind. Ye must think about what ye will do. Not all women will deceive.”

  “Ye are correct.” Tadhg looked toward the passageway not even visible from where he sat. “My mother was the sweetest, loving woman. A wonderful woman. She deceived my father and lay with another. A man as close as kinsman. My father’s most favored friend.”

  Ultan gave a melodious gasp.

  Memory stirred and Tadhg heard the sound again and again in his head. Tadhg wiped at his face. Surely he was overwrought from lack of sleep.

  “A child was conceived from their union and my mother passed it off as my father’s own daughter. It wasn’t until my mother died that the truth was uncovered.” Tadhg faced the stranger. “A bad story. One I have not shared with another.”

  The other man remained silent, until he stood so quickly he nearly tripped on the material beneath his feet. “Beg pardon, I must leave.”

  Tadhg stood as well, following Ultan who continued through the passage in great haste. “I dinna mean to offend. Please! Stay!”

  Ultan finally faced him, shook his head but did not speak.

  “I wished only to share the story with another person not to cause ye to quit my presence. Please stay.”

  “I—I canna—stay.”

  Ultan ducked out and was gone. Tadhg stood staring at the entrance for quite a while. Had his story been so devastating to a total stranger that he could no longer remain in Tadhg’s presence?

  “‘Twas devastating because of the kind, loving nature of my mother. Her soft heart. Her gentle ways. It does not make sense even now. She loved my father.”

  Tisa ducked into her house, her heart beating against her ribs. Where had the outcasts gone to? She yanked the little doll out from inside her tunic. She’d made it for Aednat. Had something happened to them? Surely Malcolm would have told her.

  The telltale sound of Darragh’s peaked passion met her ears. Her hands closed into tight fists, her grip on the doll causing its berry lips to smoosh into her thickly twined hair. Tisa dove behind the curtain, kicking off her shoes as she went. Tadhg’s mother had slept with another? Tisa needed time to think. The sound ceased and she held her breath.

  “Who is here?” Darragh called.

  Tisa tossed the doll into the corner, took a shaky breath, and swallowed.

  “Only me, Darragh. I am sorry to interrupt. I am not—” she yanked down the trews “feeling well. I need only to lie down—” she threw the leine on top of the growing pile behind the chest “for a few moments.”

  “Ugh!” Darragh’s disgruntled outburst said it all.

  Tisa yanked on her chemise and climbed under the covers, turning away from the entrance just before the irritating man yanked back the hanging.

  “Tisa! Ye are interrupting me! Is there nowhere else ye can rest?”

  Anger ripped through her innards. She bolted up and let her expression speak for itself.

  Darragh stood there naked with his hardened rod bobbing in front of him. She wanted to scream. Loud. By the way he stepped back, she assumed it showed on her face. She didn’t pause to think but let loose her mouth.

  “I wish to lay down in peace but dinna request ye leave or find another place to meet with yer lover, did I? I asked only to be allowed to rest my head until this passes.”

  “Mayhap she’s with child!” Ian called from Darragh’s room then laughed at his own joke. A crass sound.

  Darragh started to laugh as well but then a frown lined his brow. He moved closer. “What is it that ails ye, wife?”

  “My head.”

  “And yer courses are fine?”

  Tisa rolled he eyes. “What care have ye about my womanly time? Ye are my husband and ye ken well enough there is no chance they are less than fine.”

  Ian again laughed but Darragh’s expression changed into a dark scowl. His eyes narrowed. Fear gripped her and she wished she could call back her outburst. She knew better than to let loose her anger on him. The man was dangerous. He held her fate in his hand. He had a cruel streak.

  “Ian, I need ye to leave,” Darragh said in a loud voice, his eyes on her.

  Tisa’s breath accelerated. She dared not move.

  “But we’re not—”

  “Now!” Darragh bellowed.

  Rustling could be heard as he dressed, then the curtain being lifted and the door finally closed. Darragh settled beside her, naked but no longer aroused, and stretched the full length of the pallet. She was not fooled by his languorous movements.

  “So tell me of yer discomfort, wife.”

  “Please, Darragh.” Tisa worked to even her tone. “I dinna wish to disrupt yer...time alone with Ian.”

  His face tight, the heat poured off of him. His anger. She remembered it well. Their wedding night. Their first night here. The inn just a few days earl
ier. This man was easily enraged but she had been able to disarm him.

  She reached toward him. He clutched her hand with tight fingers. A gasp froze halfway up her throat.

  “Are ye cuckolding me?” He asked the question but his tone condemned.

  “I am not, Darragh.”

  She hadn’t meant to stress the word.

  He released his grip, his tight features softening. “I search for my pleasure elsewhere as sure as if ye denied me yer body. And I am denying mine to ye, am I not?”

  “I care not, Darragh. We have found a way to be content.”

  “Are ye content?”

  “I have no needs ye dunna see to.”

  “Truly?”

  “Aye.”

  “There is no one ye long for? Whose hands ye would have on ye? Who ye would have unleashing yer passion?”

  Something in his expression—Gerrit! That whoreson.

  “Has someone been spreading tales?” she asked.

  Darragh’s frown deepened. “I dunna need to learn from others what I can see with my own eyes.”

  “Nae!” Her voice rose. “There is naught to see.”

  “Dunna forget, sweet little Tisa, that I was the one ye clung to when ye longed for Tadhg, when ye imagined him taking ye. I was the one ye would not even allow to touch ye.”

  She shook her head. “Nae. ‘Twas a mistake for me to pretend and ye encouraged it. Ye wanted me to...feel those feelings. I have no use for such feelings.”

  Giving him her back, she closed her eyes against the tears. They slipped down her hot cheeks. Darragh stroked her side as he settled close behind her.

  “But they are there. Just below yer calm demeanor.” His lips beside her ear sent a shiver down her spine. “Ye’re a passionate woman. I have said as much.”

  “Please, Darragh. Dunna cause me...more humiliation.”

  “Show me yer passion again.”

  He whispered the words, as if to entice her.

  “Nae! There is no one here.”

  He snaked his arm around to cup her breasts. It could have been a sword hilt, the way he gripped her. “Because ye’re a woman and if ye have needs, I will see to them as yer husband.”