The Seventh Son

by Ashley York

  “True! But I would let ye touch them. Do ye remember that?

  He smiled. “I do remember that.”

  “I am Aoife.”

  “How do I ken ye?”

  “We were of the same clan, Sean.”

  “Ye are a MacNaughton?”

  “I am not.”

  This same woman, but younger, alongside his own mother hard at work flashed through his mind. “Did ye ken my mother?”

  “Very well. We are sisters.”

  More memories flooded him. His mother smiling. Singing with Aoife. A huge fire burning before them. Sean and other children dancing. Music surrounding them.

  “Figs!” Sean’s face heated at his outburst. The memory of this woman giving him the sweet fruit any time he asked her came to him. He remembered he liked this woman. More memories flooded him. Her helping him don his leine. Washing his face at the stream. Helping him to play a wooden flute. “Methinks I do remember ye.”

  “A long time ago now.” Aoife sighed and looked over at the little girl who was propping her doll on her shoulder just as Brighit was doing with Padraig. “So long ago.”

  “Where is Malachi?” Sean glanced over the others but there were no men young enough here.

  She kept her eyes on Aednat. “Long dead now. So many dead. Now Darragh.”

  “Darragh was yer son as well?” Sean stilled. Darragh and Malachi were brothers. Both were his cousins. He shook his head before continuing. “I feel yer loss, Aoife. To lose two sons is a terrible blow.”

  She turned a sad smile to him. “And how fares my sister?”

  “She has passed as well.” Sean swallowed, again feeling his own sadness when she died. “I am all that remains from my family.”

  Aoife’s brows lowered into an angry scowl. “That is not so, Sean. Ye have many who are kin to ye.”

  Sean sifted through his mind for any information to confirm what she was saying. He had a great amount of money and land from his mother but he never understood from where it came. His childhood memories, until now, were of being in the MacNaughton Clan and that his wealth was not spoken of.

  “I dunna ken them and my mother never spoke of them that I remember. Why would that be? Surely there was some trouble that would make my mother leave?”

  Aoife shrugged. “Yer mother left to be with yer father. Our clan, your mother’s and mine, is from south of the Liffey. There were troubles. The Christian beliefs battled the pagan way. It caused much strife. My own Aodh had been baptized a Christian but followed the pagans after Malachi died. He was angry with God for taking him. I had hoped to turn him back.” She shrugged, seeming to age before his eyes. “When he set me aside, I had no choice but to remain here with my granddaughter and care for her.”

  “The little girl is Malachi’s daughter?”

  “She is. Both Malachi and his wife are dead. She is all that I have left of him. Aednat?”

  The little girl turned, her expression of pure joy caused Sean to smile.

  “Come here. Meet yer cousin, Sean.”

  Sean could not have believed the little girl could appear any happier but when she came toward him, her intense gaze of pure love overwhelmed him and his breath hitched. He cleared his throat.

  “We are family? Ye are so big!” She turned to Aoife. “Will I become this big?”

  “I dunna believe so.”

  Sean pulled Aednat up onto his lap and she immediately wrapped a tiny arm around his shoulder.

  “Would ye ever want to be this big?” he asked.

  “Ye must be able to see so much at such a great height.”

  Nodding slowly, Sean struggled to remain composed at the awe in her voice. “True, but I am always the one called when something is too high to reach.”

  She frowned suddenly, thinking hard. “And that is a problem for ye?”

  A quick mind. “Sometimes. When I am very busy, I dunna always want to come and help.”

  “Will ye stay with us? We dunna have many things up high but I would like ye to be here.”

  The sincerity on her face, the intensity of her gaze, made Sean realize he did want to stay with her. He was enamored with her. “Mayhap ye can come with me.”

  Aoife offered him a shy smile. “Mayhap that is what we should do.”

  “Ye are family. Mayhap ye would come and meet my wife, Thomasina. She will soon have a baby as well.”

  “Oh! Like that one?” Aednat pointed to Brighit who had moved closer. Padraig once again asleep in her arms.

  “Just like that one.”

  Malcolm came in, his face lined with worry. “Can ye stay here with them, Sean?”

  “What is amiss?” Sean felt his angst and stood.

  “I was told to remain here and send ye back,” Malcolm said. “I need to return. I have something I must see to myself.”

  Malcolm’s angst and his urgency unsettled him, making him anxious. Malcolm was a man who did not deviate from his orders. He glanced at Caireann who sat talking with two young boys. Something was bothering the man that he did not wish to share with Sean. Malcolm needed to return, for whatever reason. Sean would respect his decision.

  “I will remain here.” Sean glanced toward his aunt. “Tell Tadhg that I have met my mother’s sister and wish to remain here a bit longer.”

  Malcolm blew a sigh of relief. “I will.”

  The big man took Caireann into his arms and kissed her goodbye. Sean avoided Brighit’s questioning glance.

  “I will return anon,” Malcolm said.

  Brighit nodded, her concern gone. “Thank ye for bringing us here, Malcolm.”

  Aednat jumped up and grabbed Malcolm around the legs before bending her head back to look up at him. “I love ye, Malcolm. Thank ye for bringing me my family.”

  Malcolm caressed her head. “My pleasure, little one. Be good.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  ~

  THE GROUP OF FIVE older men sat at the head table. Brian, much younger, sat between them in Aodh’s former place of honor. The council. Benches were lined up opposite to watch the event. The area between the onlookers and the head table allowed a small place for both the accused, seated on a stool, and the witnesses as they were brought forward. Tadhg sat to the side so that he could watch their faces.

  Leofrid was not among the six. He sat on a stool to their left, his face tight and body stiff, separated as if he did not belong at all. Tadhg had to agree. He was not a part of this clan and deserved no say in how they handled things. To say Leofrid appeared uneasy over the proceedings fell far short. If the man were given a broadsword, he would probably slice off the heads of the six men and Gerrit without pausing for a breath.

  One by one the witnesses spoke. All who saw what had transpired, which included all the warriors who had not yet returned home, came forward. Sean was not needed so Tadhg had thought it best for him to see to Brighit and the baby. Peter worried less knowing she was away from all that was going on. He’d kept his plans to himself which suited Tadhg just fine since he trusted the man. The MacNaughton warriors were ready in case trouble erupted.

  The recounting of events were the same. There were no deviations. Gerrit wielded the blade that had killed both Darragh and his father.

  “What say ye, Gerrit?” Brian spoke in a loud, confident voice.

  Brian’s eyes never wavered from Gerrit who slowly stood before them, dressed in his full leather attire and even his cloak. Arrogant was the best way to describe him. His shoulders back. His face empty of any feeling. He looked more as if he were about to be dispatched for a battle than to defend himself against murder charges.

  “I dunna deny what has been spoken of me. I took the life of both Darragh and Aodh. I did so only as a last attempt to spare my own life.” His eyes darted toward Leofrid. “Darragh had decided to murder me even though it was a friendly competition we were engaged in. I ken not why he chose to do so.”

  Mumbling rippled through the people in the longhouse behind Tadhg. The fire had been
allowed to die out due to the overwhelming heat of the tightly packed bodies.

  “Or why he was not halted.” Gerrit’s tone indicated his indignation. “I acted to defend myself.”

  A door opened but Tadhg kept his eyes on Brian. The man was impressive, handling this trial with the strength of a true leader.

  “And what of Aodh?” Brian asked.

  Gerrit’s nostrils flared and he paused before answering, as if for control. “The man came at me in a rage. All were witnesses. He sought to end me. I was defending myself. “

  Movement behind Tadhg called for his attention but he ignored it.

  Brian tipped his ear toward the man on his left, faced him, and then nodded before continuing with his questions.

  “So yer claim is that ye murdered both our chieftain and his son in defense. ?”

  “It was defense.” Gerrit crossed his arms in a stubborn stance. “I will say no more.”

  Brian nodded, the men on either side gathering close to him. Their words were few and they did not carry. They separated, each leaning back now.

  Brian glanced toward Leofrid. “Leofrid, I ken that Gerrit is yer man but he has come before me as we are the ones who have been wronged by his actions. Will ye accept the ruling of this council?”

  Leofrid’s eyes widened and he sat up a little straighter as if happy to again be shown any type of consideration. Since Aodh’s death, many began to demonstrate a lack of respect toward him and his cause. It seems Tadhg and Sean’s opinion that what happened outside of Eire was of little concern to them was shared by most.

  Godwin tipped his head, momentarily closing his eyes. “I will accept yer decision as fair and right.”

  Brian took a deep breath. “Then Gerrit, I must say ye have the right of it. Darragh was trying to end ye. The why of it we will never ken.”

  The murmuring again. Rumors. There had been a lot of talk. Always in defense of Darragh. He’d been taken advantage of by the man. Nothing specific, only that it had been unusually cruel and may have included sodomy. These events were now considered the very reason Aodh had handed Gerrit off to Leofrid. Darragh’s father had been trying to protect his son. The offenses were considered justification for Darragh wanting Gerrit dead. The reason Darragh was not stopped.

  “Aodh’s action as an aggrieved father is understandable. He sought to avenge the murder of his son. For this, ye will be banned from our clan and if anyone encounters ye, they have the right to end ye.”

  “And what of rape? What punishment will he have for that?”

  Tadhg whipped around to see Malcolm just behind him. Caireann’s shawl hung from his hand.

  Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd.

  “What have ye there?” Brian asked. “Come forth, Malcolm.”

  Malcolm glared at the man seated on the stool, stopping just a few feet in front of the trestle. He shook out the material.

  “This is what my Caireann was wearing when she was knocked down and forcibly taken from behind by this animal.”

  Brian pointed to the shawl. “And that is the proof?”

  “It is.”

  Malcolm turned and took the few steps that brought him directly in front of Gerrit. With tight lips and a locked jaw, Malcolm put his hand to the brooch holding Gerrit’s cloak. Before the man knew what Malcolm was about, he ripped it from Gerrit’s shoulder.

  Gerrit pulled back, aghast at this maltreatment. He turned wide eyes on Leofrid. “My lord!”

  Leofrid could no doubt read the same fear as Tadhg saw on Gerrit’s face. After a moment’s hesitation, Leofrid turned away from the prisoner in a definite show of abandonment. For the first time, Gerrit’s shoulders slumped.

  Malcolm returned to Brian with the brooch, placing it on the table before him. Malcolm put the material over the bejeweled item, each prominent stone matching up with the unusual holes. The men all nodded their heads in agreement. Brian’s grave expression said he was convinced. He motioned for Malcolm to step aside. The large man moved exceedingly close to Gerrit as if to guard him, even ensuring his punishment if need be.

  “Gerrit. Did ye force yerself on Caireann?”

  “I dinna.”

  “We have evidence here that ye did, indeed, rape the girl.”

  “I dinna.”

  Brian glanced to both sides, being met by nods of approval from all. “The council agrees this is sufficient proof that ye did.”

  “I dinna.”

  “The punishment for rape in this clan is gelding.”

  Gerrit’s jaw dropped in objection. “She wanted me—”

  The loud sound of Malcolm’s fist solidly connecting with Gerrit’s jaw echoed throughout the room. The man was knocked off his stool, falling flat on his back. After a stunned silence, the crowd erupted with laughter.

  Malcolm glared down at the man. “Watch yer mouth.”

  Brian sat at the table, his hand in front of his own mouth and waited for the laughter to die down. Gerrit only pulled himself back onto the stool once Malcolm moved away. He remained close, his arms about his chest.

  When the attention was back on Brian, he stood. “Gerrit we find ye guilty of rape and a gelding will take place immediately.” His eyes fell on Malcolm. “Malcolm, will ye administer the punishment?”

  Over Gerrit’s loud objections, Malcolm smiled and announced. “Without hesitation.”

  Stiff lipped, Leofrid kept his eyes averted as Gerrit’s hands were tied behind his back and he was forcibly taken from the longhouse. Several men followed behind, although it certainly looked like Malcolm had the man under control. Brian and his advisors stepped out from around the table, relief on their faces. The older men sauntered off.

  Tadhg approached him.

  “Well done, Brian.” He meant the compliment but he was also wary of Leofrid. Brian should not be left alone with the man.

  “My thanks for yer support, Tadhg. It means much to me.”

  Leofrid came up close to them, as if they were all well acquainted. Brian’s open expression shut down. A wise leader.

  “Well done, Brian. Beg pardon for my man’s behavior. Some bad blood between the two. Awful about Aodh. Terrible loss for the cause.”

  Brian offered a noncommittal grunt.

  “And have ye been practicing with yer men, Tadhg?” Leofrid asked.

  Tadhg’s breath quickened. “My men are always ready.”

  “Good to hear. Very good.” Leofrid scanned the room. “Enough have remained. Enough indeed.”

  “Despite my request for a time of mourning, ye and yer men have remained.” Brian’s clipped reply spoke of his own irritation with the situation. “Methinks ye taking yer soldiers and leaving this place is best for all.”

  Clearly shocked, Leofrid glanced between them as if not certain of what he’d heard. “Why ever would I leave this place?”

  Tadhg’s hands grew slick. He hadn’t anticipated open defiance from this man.

  “Because I tell ye to.”

  “There is an agreement.”

  “There is not.” Brian’s louder tone was calling attention. A quick glance around told Tadhg they were not just his own men that remained. “Any agreement ye had was with Aodh. He is dead as is any agreement ye had with him. ‘Tis not a difficult concept to grasp, Leofrid. We dunna choose to side with ye against the Normans.”

  “And who exactly is we?” Leofrid looked around, catching the eye of many of the more belligerent warriors who now moved in their direction, surrounding them.

  MacNaughton men shifted as well, one for nearly every one of Leofrid’s. Tadhg wanted to kick himself for his own stupidity. How could he have believed Leofrid would step down and just go away? The man had the most to lose. It was his family’s kingdom that he fought for when he went up against the Normans. A kingdom already taken from him. The truth was this man would fight until the death.

  A loud commotion outside that sounded like a cry of alarm tightened Tadhg’s gut. He prayed Leofrid had not managed to rile even mor
e men to his cause. The flash of surprise he glimpsed on the man’s face gave him hope. All within the longhouse flooded out the door and into the yard.

  The fog had lifted and seven large Norman ships could now be seen coming into the bay. One boat was already sending men ashore who were walking up the rocks. All the men wore shields, sidearms, and helms. The weapons pointed down indicated they did not come for battle but could easily be made ready.

  One man stood out although he was fully mailed, the same as the twenty or so men coming up around him. Lord John of Essex from Brighit’s wedding to Peter. Even without seeing his face, the knight was easily recognizable by his swagger.

  Brian shot a glance at Tadhg before they both turned to see Leofrid’s stricken expression.

  “Normans!” Leofrid announced. He turned around in a circle, his eyes searching out his warriors. “Men!”

  Even the men that had followed the Godwin out of the longhouse were now keeping their distance. These Normans were well armed and well protected. They appeared to be coming casually up the shore but any seasoned warrior could see they were in a formation that could easily be closed into a wall of defense.

  “Men!” Leofrid’s voice cracked. “Where are my men?”

  Brian shrugged. Peter came up to stand on the far side of Leofrid, never taking his eyes off the men coming toward them. Tadhg didn’t miss the slight nod Peter gave to John.

  Once Brian stepped forward, signaling he was leader here, John approached him.

  “Hail,” John said.

  Tadhg would swear he felt Leofrid take a step back.

  “Welcome.” Brian reached out a hand toward John.

  The men behind were grouping in twos and threes, perhaps in a sign of solidarity against the daggers Leofrid was shooting at them. The man’s stench wafted to him. He must be sweating torrents.

  “Normans?” Tadhg couldn’t resist asking the man. He was rewarded by a wide-eyed stare followed by a short nod. “These are the soldiers you would have us fight?”

  Leofrid sighed in relief, misunderstanding the question.

  “Why would you need to fight these men?” Peter had stepped closer to Leofrid and now looked past him to Tadhg. “Have they done anything to you?”