by Laurel McKee
The salty-sweet musk of their joining, the fresh green of the grass crushed under them combined in a heady perfume mat drove her onward. Their moans and incoherent love words echoed on the wind, and it was as if the night was theirs alone. The stars, the moon, all theirs, a treasure that could never be taken away.
Their rhythm grew faster, more frantic, his hands tight around her waist as she rode him. Then, deep in her very core, she felt that pressure expanding, growing. Behind her closed eyes, brilliant lights exploded in the darkness, red and white sparks.
"Will!" she cried out, her back as taut as a bowstring as her climax washed over her.
He, too, shouted, her name. His head thrashed on the grass as his hips arced beneath her.
She collapsed to the ground beside him, their legs still entwined as they tried to catch their breath. Will kissed her shoulder, resting his forehead against her as she trembled.
She thought she would weep from the sudden force of her emotions, and she curled her fist into the earth to try and hold those tears back.
"You see," Will muttered against her hair, "I kept my promise."
Eliza laughed shakily, turning her face to look at him. A cloud obscured the moon for a moment, wrapping them in the welcome concealment of darkness. "So you did."
"How I have missed this," he said, drawing her closer into the curve of his body. "Missed you."
"I missed you as well. Dublin was dull without you."
"Somehow I doubt your life could ever be dull, my lady."
"I would welcome a bit of dullness just now, I confess." She caressed the arm he wrapped around her waist, running her fingers down the corded muscle to hold his hand close against her. From far off, in the perfect silence of the night, she heard the howl of a bird. Long and mournful, eerie like an omen in some old Irish tale. A banshee, perhaps, the harbinger of death. It made her shiver.
"Are you cold?" Will asked, kissing her shoulder. "Come, we should go inside."
"It does grow late," Eliza answered. "But I hate for this to end."
She rolled over, pressing her lips to his in one last, lingering kiss. A kiss that had to say all she could not 'Thank you, Will."
He gave her a bemused smile. "For what?"
"For giving me this night"
Will laughed, reaching for his rumpled shirt and her chemise and gown. "Surely I should be the one thanking you. You have been a most excellent... nurse."
Eliza pulled her chemise over her head so he could not see her face. He should not thank her for nursing him back to health when it was her own ideals and work that helped wound him in the first place.
She stepped into her gown, pulling the sleeves over her shoulders. He stepped close behind her, fastening the tapes of her bodice. His fingers brushed the bare skin of her nape, brushing her tumbled hair aside to press his lips to that sensitive spot A shower of sparks danced down her spine again, and she swayed back against him.
Will wrapped his arms around her waist "I should have done this all those years ago, when we last met in this garden. Maybe then we never would have parted."
Eliza laughed raggedly. "Or we would have gotten into even more trouble with our families!"
"Isn't trouble worth it?"
"I used to think so." Suddenly, far off on the horizon, Eliza glimpsed a strange silver gray snaking along the black sky. Smoke, just like that that had lingered over the destroyed village. "Look," she said, pointing.
He went very still. "Come inside now, Eliza."
She ignored him, pulling away to run along the garden paths, up a hill that afforded a better view of the surrounding countryside. That ominous cloud looked thicker there, hanging over a neighboring estate like a warning.
Kildare is green now, the man had said. Was this what he meant?
"Eliza," Will said, tugging insistently at her hand. "Come inside now!"
"We have to go," she whispered. "Now."
Chapter 23
Will checked the cart one more time to be sure all was in readiness for the journey ahead. The horses, stolid farm animals, stood placidly in the dawn light In the back, a mattress was covered with old quilts, Lady Killinan's jewels sewn into their seams. Caroline had even slipped in a few books, tucking them under the bedding. Eliza tucked her pistol into a canvas knapsack she would keep with her at all times.
They had to look like an ordinary farm family, taking an ill daughter, played by Anna, to find a doctor somewhere. No detail could give them away.
He stepped back, tugging his plain wool cap over his brow. It hid his newly shorn hair, but he feared no garb could truly disguise him. It was a perilous journey they embarked on and impossible to tell what they would encounter on the way.
He could hardly believe that only hours ago they had been making love in the garden.
"Will!" he heard Eliza call out, and glanced up at the house to find her leaning out a window. She wore a boy's shirt and coat, but her hair fell over her shoulders. "We're very nearly ready."
Will looked to the horizon of the night sky, which was now pale gold at its edge. "Hurry! We need to make as much distance as possible today."
She nodded and drew back into the house, slamming the window after her. In only a moment, he heard the squeak of the front door opening, and she emerged into the dawn.
She had pinned up her hair, covering it with a woolen cap. With her tall, thin figure and her breasts bound, she looked quite passable in her male garb—unless someone looked closely at her smooth, pretty skin and her buffed nails. She was a fine lady, no matter how she tried to hide it!
She grinned at him as if she read his thoughts, pulling out a pair of old leather gloves. "Will I do?" she asked, drawing them over those pretty hands.
"If no one studies you too near." If they did, Will would surely feel compelled to hit them. Eliza looked strangely alluring in her new clothes, with her long legs encased in snug wool.
"It feels quite delicious, I must say. I never felt I could move about so freely, with so many petticoats and skirts!" She patted the horse's neck, checking its bridle. "But I suppose I should not become accustomed to it. We'll be in Dublin before we know it, yes?"
"We certainly shall. It may take a bit longer than usual, because we aren't in a fine carriage and because we'll have to use back pathways and hidden roads. But I vow I will get you there as fast as I can."
"Oh, Will. So heroic." She smiled sadly. "I just wonder what we will find along the way."
She strolled to the edge of the drive, staring off over the gardens of Killinan. They were blanketed in morning mist, pale silver like a quiet, peaceful fairyland. He wanted to know what she thought as she took one last look at her home, but her face was as pale and still as the marble statues around them.
He came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her close to him. "We will return soon."
"I know," she said, covering his hands with hers. "Yet it won't be the same. It will never be the same, I think."
"It will always be your home. You must always remember that." He gave her a teasing smile. "And also maybe you could remember what we did in the garden?"
A faint blush actually stained her cheeks. "Will! You are—"
"My dears, we are ready," Katherine called, emerging from the house with Anna and Caroline in tow. They all wore simple muslin dresses and knit shawls, plain caps over their hair. But, just as with Eliza, their disguises could only go so far. They looked quite worrisomely as if they were on their way to a masquerade ball.
"I will remember Killinan just as you said, Will," Eliza whispered. "At least we will always have that."
She kissed him quickly before going to help her mother and sisters into the cart.
"I feel rather like those wild, bloodthirsty creatures one reads about in France," Katherine said wryly, settling her skirts around her as Anna covered up in the quilts, pretending to be ill. "I should have some knitting with me, as they say that terrible Madame La Farge did in Paris."
; "I fear you look more like the poor French queen, Mama," said Caroline. "Here, Anna, wrap this blanket around you tighter. You're meant to be an invalid."
Will climbed up onto the cart seat beside Eliza, gathering up the reins. "We'll go as far as we can before finding a concealed place to rest for die night"
"Yes, of course," she murmured.
"Are you ready to leave?" he said gently.
She glanced back one last time at the house, so serene and beautiful in the sunrise light "Yes. I am ready."
And Will flicked the reins, setting the cart into creaking motion as they rolled inexorably away from Killinan—and into they knew not what
Chapter 24
"Will!" Eliza laid her hand on his arm, forcing him to rein in the horses. "Do you smell that?"
It was the same; she knew it was. The same as that thick, sour miasma that hung over the ruined village on her way home—smoke. Smoke and charred decay, rotten in the warm weather.
Will's eyes narrowed, becoming a stormy gray as he quickly scanned the woods on either side of the narrow track. "I certainly do." . "Something is burning."
"Was burning, I think. It smells stale."
"Fighting last night?"
"Perhaps. The town of Rossmorland is not far ahead, and there's said to be a store of weapons from Dublin there. It could easily have been raided."
From the cart behind them, Katherine stood up, balancing herself against the rough wooden slats next to the sleeping figures of Caroline and Anna. Like all of them, a sleepless night hiding in the woods had left her pale and disheveled, her golden hair straggling from beneath her cap.
"Do you think we should go back?" she asked. "Find another route?"
Will rubbed at his stubbled jaw. "Surely it is just as dangerous behind us, Lady Killinan. It seems quiet enough now. If Rossmorland was burned, they would have moved on by now. We can go around the town, though, just past the bridge ahead."
"Mama?" Anna mumbled, slowly sitting up as she blinked at the light. "Why have we stopped? Is it nightfall?"
"Not nearly, my darling," Katherine answered. "I fear we have a long way to go before we rest"
A bird suddenly screamed in the distance, a haunting echo that pierced Eliza to the core. Or was it just a bird, not an omen? She hardly knew any longer. Reality had become distorted, unreal. There was no Killinan, no Dublin, either, only the five of them trapped in an endless uncertain purgatory.
"We can't stay here forever," Eliza said.
"Indeed not" Will slapped the reins, urging the horses forward.
The hot sunlight pierced through the trees, dappling the dusty roadway under the horses hooves to dark emerald spotted with black. It seemed an enchanted place, like in the old Irish tales Eliza loved so much as a girl. The realm of fairies and elves, hidden beneath the verdant leaves only to emerge at night to dance and make merry—and make mischief on unsuspecting humans.
But even the world of the fairies could so quickly turn dark and violent Fairies were so jealous and changeable, and heartless, too. They destroyed men who displeased them with scarcely a thought, laid waste to their dreams.
Gradually, the light grew brighter as the trees became farther apart, the roadway wider. They were emerging from the fairy world of the woods into that of the river, the realm of mischievous naiads. There was a bridge there that led to Rossmorland and then curved in two directions, either to Dalkey and the coast or to Dublin. If they could make it past there, certainly their way would be open to the city.
The smell of smoke grew stronger as the woods thinned, a thick, cloying scent that stuck in Eliza's throat Was this the smell of the whole country now, the stench of destruction?
Anna coughed, pressing her hand to her face as Katherine gently urged her back down beside the still-sleeping Caroline.
"What does this mean?" Anna whispered.
"It only means we will have to find a path around the town and avoid people still," Eliza answered. "That is all."
Even as she prayed her words were true, Eliza very much feared they were not. A terrible sight greeted them as they emerged into the light, the river just ahead. The bridge was blocked by slack, broken bodies clad in bloodied red uniforms, a cloud of smoke hanging over all in a dark gray pall.
'Mama, get down!" Eliza cried. "Don't look."
Katherine, though, had already glimpsed the carnage. She caught Anna in her arms, bearing her all the way to the bottom of the cart, holding her daughter's face close to her shoulder.
"What is it?" Anna sobbed brokenly.
"Shh, darling, we must be quiet," Katherine whispered
Will slowly climbed down from the cart, his face a frightening blank.
"Will, no," Eliza said, lunging forward to catch at his sleeve. But he was already gone from her.
"It's all right, Eliza," he said, not looking back. "The battle is obviously done. I have to see if anyone lives."
How could anyone possibly be living, she thought in horror, staring at the scene of perfect, terrible stillness. The only things moving, the only sounds, were those shrieking birds wheeling overhead.
"Stay here with your mother and the girls," he said, looking back at her at last. His eyes were dark gray, flat and hard. Her Will, the tender, passionate Will from the garden at Killinan, was gone, the cold warrior now in his place.
It made her shiver, despite the heat of the sun and the smoke.
"If anything does happen," he said, handing her the reins, "run back into the woods, as far and fast as you can, and don't return."
Eliza wrapped the reins tight around her fist, watching as Will drew his pistol from inside his coat and made his way to the bridge. The whole world seemed at a perfect standstill, the river frozen in its flow, the birds caught in midflight.
"Mama," she said. "You heard what Will said." And she, too, climbed down from the cart, taking her pistol from the knapsack.
"Eliza, no!" her mother cried. "You must not. Stay here with us."
"I have to help Will if I can," she said. "Who can hurt me there now?"
As she moved closer to the bridge, the stench grew thicker and more pervasive. Smoke, blood, the stinking odor of fear. There were not so many dead as she thought from a distance, perhaps a dozen or so. But that was surely quite enough.
Eliza swallowed hard past the sour knot in her throat and knelt down beside Will as he examined the first body.
It was a young man, his eyes wide in startled horror. His boots were gone, his coat and bloodied shirt ripped open as if he had been searched for valuables.
Her hand shaking, she reached out and closed his eyes.
"I told you to stay at the cart," Will said quietly.
"I... I want to help, if I can."
"Help?" He glanced at her from those terribly dark eyes.
She turned away from him, from that cold stare, and looked at the other men on the bridge. There was not a stir of movement, only the sprawl of broken limbs, broken lives, among broken pikes and torn flags. The green of the United Irishmen mingled with the red and blue of the regiment's standard, as if they were all doomed together now, no matter which side they chose. Ireland was doomed.
"I fear we cannot help any of them now," she whispered.
"No, we can't" Despite his empty eyes, he took her hand, helping her to her feet Together they made their way from man to man, making sure none yet lived even as they knew it was. futile.
But the soldiers were not the only ones who lost their lives there. At the middle of the bridge dangled a thick rope and a hanged man, clad in the cheap garb of a farmworker. Eliza turned away in a rush of cold nausea, but not before she glimpsed the proclamation pinned to his chest—the order for Kildare to disarm and come back to the rule of the Crown.
"They must have come here to hang him," Will muttered. "And been surprised in their turn."
"Yet the attack came too late, if saving this man was their aim," Eliza said. "And why did they not take the body away?"
"Who has time
for such civilized niceties as burial in times like these?" Will said bitterly. He drew his dagger from the sheath at his waist, as if to cut the man down, but then his gaze caught on the crumpled body at the end of the bridge.
As Eliza watched, confused, he walked slowly to the man, kneeling down. She followed, even though her instinct told her to stay where she was, to run back to the cart She had become quite adept at ignoring her instincts of late.
It was not one man but three, a red-coated officer and two Irishmen. From the bloodstains on the stone, she judged there had been a most ferocious battle between them.
"Who is it?" she asked quietly.
"General Hardwick." Will gently rolled over the man's stiffening corpse, and Eliza saw to her horror that it was, indeed, the genial man she had last seen at Dublin Castle, laughing with his wife.
And she remembered the general's pretty daughter, smiling shyly at Will as he led her into the dance.
"He was your friend, I think," she said.
"He was a brave and honorable man who should not have been in the field at his age," Will answered hoarsely. "He said Kildare was a most dangerous place."
"And his family?"
"He sent them to England months ago. They won't hear of this for some time, I fear."
Suddenly, a burst of gunfire exploded from the trees lining the river, a flash of deadly sparks that shattered the eerie stillness. Will grabbed her hand, dragging her down the bank and shoving her under the pilings of the bridge.
"Stay there!" he shouted. "And for God's sake, Eliza, bloody well do as I say this time."
"Will!" She reached for him, but he was gone from her, disappearing back up the muddy bank. He knelt there just at the rise, firing his pistol in response.
Holding on to the jagged stone of the piling with one hand, Eliza drew her own firearm, taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves. She was surely caught, with the unseen attackers ahead and her vulnerable family behind. The river flowed on beneath her, unconcerned at all the violence it witnessed that day, not caring that Will's blood and hers might join its waters, too.
But their blood would not flow that day, not if she could help it! Eliza was sick of death, of fear, of the terrible end of dreams. And she was angry, too. Angry with a fiery passion that made her want to howl with it all. To rush into battle and be done, once and for all.