The Seventh Son

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The Seventh Son Page 32

by Ashley York


  As soon as Gerrit was taken away, Brian and another man gently lifted Aodh’s body. His widow looked on as they walked as one up the hill. Tisa was overwhelmed with guilt and pulled out of Sean’s warm embrace. Dropping to her knees beside Darragh, she placed a hand on his motionless chest, already chilling to her touch. Her tears began anew.

  Someone came to stand beside her. Ian, his face tight with emotions he dared not show, looked down at her. He was giving her a chance to accept his presence beside his dead lover. She nodded to him. Darragh had spent time with this man. She must assume he cared for Ian.

  “What would ye—” He cleared his throat. “What would ye have us do with him?”

  Tisa took a shaky breath. Surely ‘twas worse for this man who could not show the depth of his own emotions at this great loss. She smiled at him, motioning him to come beside her. At his nearness, his unshed tears that clung to his lashes were no longer hidden. Ian’s hand rested on his knee, very close to Darragh’s own. His fingers stroked as if caressing his leg. She took his hand in both of hers.

  “I dunna ken for certain what Darragh would want. What say ye, Ian? Ye were friends.”

  The redhead turned wide eyes on her. “Mistress, I ken he cared for ye. I believe he would be grateful for any decision ye made on his behalf.”

  “Then I will see him have a Christian burial. The priest. Is he still here?”

  Ian searched the crowd before speaking. “Does anyone ken where the priest is?”

  “Here.” A quiet voice called out from the crowd that parted for the man to approach. “I am here.”

  Tisa stood. “Please! Come and offer prayers for my husband.”

  Her face tight with emotion, she clung to Ian’s hand as the priest spoke in perfect Latin. Many from the crowd moved closer, joining in with the expected responses. Tadhg stood behind her, his deep voice soothing her.

  Ian suddenly faced her, struggling to hold back his own tears. She took him in her arms to comfort him, hoping onlookers saw the warrior comforting her.

  “We shall grieve together,” Tisa whispered the words.

  Ian may be maintaining his outward composure, but Tisa felt his body shaking gently against her. His heartfelt loss was quite great. Tisa closed her eyes against the sight of the men who came forward to carry Darragh’s body away. The deep respect they had for her husband was evident in the sheer number of men who accompanied them.

  They all hold ye in very high regard, Darragh. Ye will be missed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ~

  TISA SAT ON THE immaculately clean pallet where Darragh had slept. Everything was in its place as usual. His chest held some strange items she could not begin to understand. A pair of braies that would hang off of Darragh. A wood carving of a puffin that was very well done. More of the balsam soap he used on special occasions. An infant’s night shirt.

  She had rummaged in the chest many times, always assuming there’d be a time when she could ask about the objects. Now there was no more time. Standing in front of the closed curtain, she viewed the scene she had stitched of the birds and the trees with a critical eye. Darragh had often remarked on her ability, praising her. She glanced at the bed. He had done what he could to protect her from his father and he’d been successful, making it his goal to keep up the pretense. He had been good to her. The stool leg being dragged through the rushes brought him to her mind even before she lifted the hanging.

  Tadhg’s eyes were bright with his smile as he sat. “I dinna mean to disrupt ye.”

  “Ye’ve come at a good time.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sad being here alone.”

  “‘Tis as I thought, Tisa. Darragh was part of yer life.” He did not move to take her into his arms but remained seated, his eyes locked on to hers. “He has been yer life. A great loss.”

  She hugged herself tight.

  “Aodh expected to share me—or rather take me for himself. ‘Twas his decision that Darragh take me to wife, not Darragh’s. Darragh resented everything about me and all he had to do for me as his wife. Once he learned I truly dinna want him or anyone else in my bed, we came to an understanding.”

  Tadhg’s eyes never wavered.

  “I dinna stop him from having his lovers. Breandan. Ian. I still acted the besotted bride, totally satisfied with my husband. And I was satisfied.”

  His expression did not change.

  “Just not the way everyone else assumed.” She walked to the intricately carved chest in the other alcove, carried it to the table, and placed it in front of Tadhg.

  “There was no one I wanted but ye, Tadhg, and Darragh understood that.” She cleared her throat before she continued. “Do ye ken what he said to me right before he passed?”

  Tadhg shook his head, his eyes dark.

  “He told me to love ye with my great passion.”

  She opened the chest and took out the little carving Cad and Will had made for her, setting it on the table in front of Tadhg.

  “This is all I need to take with me when we return home. I will leave with ye when ye say ‘tis time to go.”

  Tadhg stood then, drawing in a deep breath and turning away as he shook his head. When he finally faced her, she recognized that look of love. He opened his arms and she fell against his chest.

  “My love, I needed to ken ye want that,” he said. “I would not take ye away if ye wished to remain.”

  “Nae. I dunna wish to remain. I dunna belong here. I belong with ye.”

  “Glad I am to hear ye say as much. Ye seemed so upset at the deaths. I dinna ken for certain if yer feelings ran deeper than I understood.”

  Tisa looked up at him. “Darragh was a man of honor and he did his best to protect me. Now I ken he protected me so that he could give me to ye.”

  “Sean told me he had acquired a new respect for the man as well. He believes ye changed him, helped him to become a better man.”

  “Nae. I helped him to be the man he was meant to be.”

  Tadhg kissed her lightly. “Then we should do as he asked.”

  “Let me love ye with my great passion?”

  “Aye! And to have our joining blessed. Sean has gone to find the priest for me but we dunna want to disrespect Darragh so ‘twill be in secret. Is that acceptable to ye?”

  Her hands on either side of his face, Tisa kissed him with as much passion as she’d seen Darragh display with Breandan. Tadhg drew her in close, flattening her up against him so that his heavy need pressed against her. Heat spread like a wildfire through her body. Their tongues quickly sparring and stroking. A knock at the door broke them apart, both breathing heavy. Tisa wiped her mouth, she did not want to stop.

  “I should...I should open...the door?”

  “Aye.” He took a deep, slow breath. “Mayhap ‘tis Sean.”

  “And the priest?”

  Tadhg nodded. Tisa blew out a loud breath and walked to the door. Sean leaned a shoulder against the frame. His eyes scanned her then he looked beyond her to Tadhg. “Is this a bad time?”

  The sincerity of his expression made Tisa giggle. “Nae. ‘Tis fine, Sean. Come in with the priest.”

  Sean led Matthew into the area, his eyes taking in everything around them.

  “Have ye never been in here afore now?” Tisa asked.

  “I have not. Darragh and his father saw no use for having me around.”

  Tadhg extended his hand. “Pleased I am to meet ye.”

  “Oh, we’ve met before. I was yer priest when ye were but a small child. I dunna suppose ye remember me though. I was quite a bit younger then.”

  Tadhg tilted his head. “Did ye have red hair?”

  “I did!”

  “Methinks I do remember ye.”

  “I spent much time with yer mother back when there was all that trouble.”

  Tisa saw Tadhg’s expression closing off and she took his hand before addressing Matthew. “What was the trouble?”

  “Oh, there were many battles. Padraig MacNaughton was so
ught out by all for his leadership and wisdom. Every time he was called away, he would have me come and pray with him and Moira. The prayers always worked...except for that one time.”

  “Every time the prayers were effective.” Tadhg’s voice held a correcting tone. “My father lived to become an old man.”

  “Yer mother and I believed him lost during the troubles. He had been gone for three years and no word. What else could she think? A blessing ‘twas when he came home hale and hearty though a bit thinner for wear.”

  Tadhg did not respond, his face stricken.

  “What is amiss?” Sean asked. He had been listening quietly but Tisa knew his concern. Tadhg’s expression was fearsome.

  “My father was believed dead?”

  Something in Tadhg’s tone sparked the memory of what he had told her in the cave. If his mother believed her husband dead, she would not be an adulteress by laying with another.

  “She dinna want to believe it. ‘Twas yer father,” Matthew pointed at Tisa, “who came and tried to help her as best he could. They always prepared for Padraig’s return. The last winter was the worst. Miserably cold. Wind that would not let up. Even our food ran out. Many perished.”

  “Ye were still young, Tadhg.” Matthew turned to Tisa. “Yer own mother had just died. Yer father was beside himself but he set his grief aside to care for Moira and keep her hope alive. We often prayed together that Padraig would return, never a word that he may not.”

  “There must have been at least one time that they believed he would not return.”

  Tadhg’s quiet tone was ominous.

  Matthew’s face reddened and he averted his gaze. It was suddenly difficult for Tisa to breathe but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the priest, as if he were a snake ready to attack.

  “Is that not so?” Tadhg prompted him.

  “The winter was brutal, Tadhg. We all expected to perish. Yer mother...she was overcome with anguish.” Matthew turned to include Tisa. “Yer father was a good man. He loved Padraig with all his heart. He would never betray his dearest friend.”

  Matthew quieted. After a moment, he swallowed, squared his shoulders, and sat up straight as if about to deliver a eulogy.

  “Padraig returned that spring and he brought food stuffs. He had traveled through the harshest conditions to get home so that he could provide for ye and yer mother and yer family. A miracle. A true miracle but ye have the right of it, Tadhg. Yer mother came to me that spring. She told me she was with child and that ‘twas Roland O’Brien’s baby.”

  “Brighit.” Tisa murmured her dear friend’s name.

  Tadhg did not move.

  “Did she tell Padraig she carried Roland’s child?” Sean asked.

  “She did not.” Matthew glanced at Tadhg. “But we were in agreement, Moira and I, that Brighit’s true father needed to be listed within the records. We could not allow her to be married to her half-brother.”

  Tisa gasped.

  “That was why Padraig broke with the O’Brien?” Sean asked but he knew the answer. “He must have seen the records...just as ye saw the records, Tadhg?”

  Tadhg glanced away, clearly struggling with all that they had just heard. Tisa’s father and Moira had lain together but they were not adulterers. The conditions they must have endured! That they survived at all was a miracle, just as Padraig returning home was a miracle.

  “Father, ye have given me great peace of mind.” Tadhg offered a sad smile. “I have taken the yoke of betrayal upon me without cause. I have cursed my mother her unfaithfulness and require forgiveness.”

  “God forgives all who come to Him in sincere repentance and so He does the same for ye now.”

  The joy on Tadhg’s face caused Tisa’s breath to catch. It seemed as if she were looking on the Tadhg of old, the Tadhg of her youth.

  “I understand yer foul mood now,” Sean said. “I knew ‘twas a heavy burden ye carried but had no understanding of exactly how heavy.”

  “I made it much worse, condemning another out of hand, just as my father had condemned her and Roland.” Tadhg looked at Matthew. “I wish my father had received peace before he died.”

  Matthew nodded, a sage expression on his face. “We ken nothing about the moments before death. Mayhap he did have that peace. I wish to believe that he did.”

  Tadhg smiled again, a peaceful smile. “I will believe it as well.”

  He turned toward Tisa, taking her hand and kissing her palm. “A load off of me for certain but now I want nothing more than to take ye as my wife.”

  Sean stepped closer. “I explained to Matthew about Darragh’s inability to consummate the marriage and that ye dunna wish to tarnish his memory by publicly declaring but that ye dunna wish to wait.”

  He winked at Tadhg before kissing Tisa’s cheek. “Blessings to ye and yer husband.”

  Matthew raised his hand.

  “And may the blessings of God the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, our greatest help in times of trouble, be with ye now and on this binding, Tisa and Tadhg.”

  The priest kissed Tadhg’s cheek and then Tisa’s before pulling away. “Ye may kiss yer bride, Tadhg.”

  Tadhg’s serious expression when he turned to her made her heart leap with happiness. This was the day Tisa had dreamed of since she was very small. Tadhg would take her as his wife and she would be his. She’d had no idea of her own strength and that was certainly put to trial but now her trials were over and she was blessed with her deepest desire.

  Her eyes closed as he lowered his lips to hers. The feel of his warm mouth pressed against hers set her heart to fluttering. He wrapped a gentle arm around her, pulling her in close. When he broke the kiss, Tisa looked up into the eyes of love.

  “I take ye as my wife until time is no more, until the sun no longer shines and the moon no longer rises. Even then, I will hold ye close and cherish ye. For eternity.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  ~

  THEIR WEDDING NIGHT WAS spent ensconced in Tisa’s bed. Where she had spent so many nights dreaming of Tadhg, being with him was most enjoyable. The knock at the door the next morning was not.

  “Mayhap ‘tis just Sean.” Tisa tried to slow her rapid heart and donned her gown. She could feel Tadhg’s eyes on her still.

  “Ye’re a lovely lass, wife. Shall I wait here for yer return?”

  Tisa exhaled a slow steadying breath. “Yea.”

  The curtain dropped behind her and she fed more wood to the fire. The knock sounded again, hurrying her to the door. Malcolm and Caireann, a huge smile on both of their faces, stood there.

  “Good morning, Tisa!”

  Taking her friend into a tight embrace, Tisa stretched her hand toward Malcolm to squeeze it, including him. “Ye’ve returned. Come in. Have ye only just arrived? A nice honeyed moon?”

  Caireann blushed prettily from where she sat beside her husband. Malcolm pulled her closer. “Ye show yer satisfaction with yer husband. That gives me great pleasure. We came here first, mistress. Caireann insisted.”

  “I am very happy for ye.” Tisa hesitated, not certain what to say next. “I hate to ruin that happiness but there has been trouble here. The warriors were competing—a friendly competition and Darragh...Darragh was killed.”

  Caireann’s jaw dropped.

  “Darragh was killed? Surely there are few that could best him. The MacNaughtons alone. Tadhg or Sean but surely they would never do that. He is—was yer husband.” Malcolm asked, his amazement visible as well. “How did he die, mistress?”

  “Gerrit.” Tisa’s tone conveyed her bitterness. “Though they fought with the mace, Gerrit stuck him with a knife, concealed beneath his cloak.”

  She shook her head, reliving the scene again. “Aodh was beside himself. His anguish at losing Darragh. He charged at Gerrit, mad as a bull and ready to kill him. That whoreson did the same to Aodh, gutting him in front of everyone.”

  “Aodh is dead?” Malcolm�
��s tone of disbelief drew his wife’s concern.

  “Were ye close to him, love?” Caireann asked, though she sounded quite surprised at the revelation.

  “He is—was chieftain. He was the head of this clan.” Malcolm shook his head. “I did what I was told but no one was close to that man. His word was law. Chaos can easily overwhelm us. Sorry I am that they are dead and that whoreson Gerrit—”

  “There’s more.” Tisa retrieved Caireann’s shawl and shook it out across her lap. “Do ye ken how these holes came to be at the back of yer shawl here?”

  Caireann peered at the punctures. “I dunna. That is what I was wearing when I was raped. I dunna want it. I dunna even want to look on it. Burn it.”

  Gripping her friend’s hand, Tisa stared into her eyes. “Methinks these holes were left by the man who forced himself on ye. Can ye think of anything else that could have left this round pattern of holes?”

  Caireann shook her head.

  Tisa included Malcolm before continuing, “I had these same marks after ye found me in the woods. Do ye remember?”

  Malcolm’s expression went from bewilderment to understanding in a flash as quick as lightning. Tisa yanked at his arm before he could pull it away and stomp out the door. “Nae! Malcolm! Ye canna go now. Gerrit is in the prisoner’s hole until they decide what fate awaits him. He’s murdered two men, one the chieftain!”

  “Malcolm? What is she saying?” Caireann searched his face. “What does Gerri—” she gasped, “Gerrit raped me?”

  Tisa watched her, experiencing the trepidation in her own heart, waiting for the onslaught of tears when the truth hit. But Caireann tightened her jaw, her lips flattening into an angry line.

  “That foul dog!” Her tone was incensed. “Why? Why would he need to touch me? So many fall all over him.”

  Caireann’s controlled rage was quite a change from the helpless victim. Tisa swelled with pride at this change in her dearest friend. Marriage was making her stronger.

  “That foul dog will pay for raping me as well.” Caireann turned to Tisa, her appearance intent. “In yer father’s household, such an act was never be allowed to go unpunished. No woman was allowed to be mistreated so. They hunted down the man who forced himself upon the woman and gelded him. I expect no less!”

 

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