The Irish Devil

by Donna Fletcher

  Tears gushed from her eyes like a fast-flowing river.

  “Do not let it upset you, Faith,” he urged. “The man is not worth wasting tears on.”

  “Nay, he is not,” she agreed between sobs.

  He drew back and looked down at her in surprise. “Then why do you cry?”

  “You chose me,” she said, her tears still falling. “You chose me as your wife because you wanted me, not because you were forced to accept me.”

  “Of course I did,” he said firmly. “The devil does as he pleases and it pleased me to make you my wife.”

  She wiped at her tears. “I am pleased to be your wife.”

  “If you must know the truth,” he admitted with a grin, “I did not plan on leaving Donnegan keep without you.”

  She smiled, her tears finally subsiding. “I will be truthful, too. I found you most attractive when first we met.”

  “I know,” he laughed and received a jab in the ribs. He laughed again. “I saw the passion in your eyes and I was determined to taste it.”

  She tugged on his long dark hair and her soft glance caressed his face. “I love you, Eric.”

  He kissed her with a tenderness that made her want to weep again. “I love you, wife, and you will hear me declare that love until my dying day.”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “Nay, do not speak of death. I could not bear to live without you. We will always be.”

  “Always, I promise,” he whispered and kissed her again and again and again.

  o0o

  The keep and castle grounds were abuzz the next morning in preparation for Lord and Lady Donnegan’s departure. Colin was assigned first guard of the day for her, Eric and Borg being presently occupied with an important matter, though with what Eric refused to tell Faith.

  Faith had not seen her father or stepmother, nor did she wish to. Eric informed her that they would be departing Shanekill keep before the morning meal and she was relieved. They would finally be gone and probably for good, the thought did not disturb her.

  What did disturb her was that she received an unexpected message from her stepmother requesting that she speak with her. She awaited her presence in the chapel.

  Her first thought was to decline her request, but giving it a brief consideration she decided it was best to face her one more time and be done with it. And besides, she knew that her stepmother chose the chapel as the meeting place in order to intimidate her. And she refused to be intimidated by her or the chapel any longer.

  She also possessed a margin of safety with Colin and Rook at her side, so she informed Colin of the summons and he agreed it would do no harm for her to meet with her stepmother.

  The day was lovely. The sky was bright and beautiful and dotted with full white clouds; the air was cool and a soft breeze blew. The castle grounds were busy, with most going about their routine chores. The clang of swords could be heard on the practice field in the distance. It was a marvelous day and Faith was grateful to be alive, grateful for a husband who loved her and for friends who cared and for a new home where life would finally be good.

  Rook chased after a stick that Colin had been throwing to him, which Colin dropped, to the dog’s disappointment, when they stopped in front of the chapel.

  “Stay out here and play with him; I will be fine,” Faith said, feeling guilty that Rook had been denied his playtime for the last few days.

  Colin looked hesitant and before he would agree he glanced inside the chapel. Fewer candles than usual burned and a lone figure sat with her head drooped near the alter.

  “Hopefully, Lady Terra is praying for forgiveness.” Faith smiled.

  “Then she has a lot of prayers to recite.” Colin laughed as he retrieved the stick from the ground and gave it a toss. “Call out if you feel the need.”

  She nodded. “Aye, I will.” She entered the chapel with reluctance.

  The place was darker than she expected, shadows danced in the dark corners and along the stone walls, though perhaps it was her fears that made her see it that way. The few lit candles along the altar cast a dim light and the heavy silence reached out and welcomed with a somber embrace. She spied the lone figure on a bench up near the altar and hurried forward, wanting this done.

  With her thoughts centered on the confrontation about to take place, Faith did not notice or hear another figure quietly close the door behind her and drop the latch across it.

  “Lady Terra,” she said as she approached. She was taken back when a person in the brown hooded robe of a cleric stood and turned.

  “Faith, I am so pleased to learn you wish to take confession,” Father Peter said, standing, his pale face looking ghostly in the glow of the candles.

  Faith froze when her startled glance fell upon the heavy wooden cross that hung around the priest’s neck.

  “Come, let us get started,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “You must have much to confess.”

  Faith still could not move.

  Father Peter talked softly, urging her not to be afraid. “Come now, Faith, I am an instrument of God here to do his work, you must not be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

  Faith thought she spied a shadow moving up behind Father Peter, but she could not be certain. Did her fear create the apparition? She squinted her eyes against the darkness, attempting to see clearer and suddenly the figure began to take shape. She ignored the priest, who continued to babble about saving souls from evil, and watched as an arm rose up, and out of the shadows, a shiny dagger clasped firmly in the thin hand.

  o0o

  Eric paced the floor in front of the dais. “Where is he?”

  Borg sat on a bench a few feet from Eric, waiting patiently. “Probably giving as many blessings as he can before he leaves,”

  “I demanded his presence here and he ignores me.”

  “Or is occupied.”

  Eric glared at his brother. “I do not care what occupies the cleric; when I demand, he obeys.”

  Bridget entered the hall and hesitated, but Borg waved her forward. He slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “He is angry because the priest keeps him waiting.”

  Bridget nodded, still a bit fearful of the dark lord, especially when he displayed his temper.

  “Perhaps Bridget can answer some of your questions,” Borg suggested.

  Bridget looked to Eric. “How may I help you, my lord?”

  “Will she never simply call me Eric?” he asked of Borg.

  “ ‘Tis the Irish way… ignore it.”

  “ ‘Tis the Irish who have the manners,” Bridget informed them sternly. “And the Vikings who do not know any better.”

  “She told you,” Borg said with a laugh.

  Bridget turned bright red. “Oh, Lord Eric, forgive me.”

  He laughed and waved his hand at her. “Nay, Bridget, I admire those who speak the truth, especially when they take their life in their hands in doing so.”

  This time Bridget paled.

  Borg laughed harder and squeezed her to him. “He but teases you.”

  Bridget was not taking any chances; she clung to Borg for dear life.

  Eric finally asked his questions. “Do you know that Nora fetched Father Peter the night of Faith’s attack?”

  “Aye, she was instructed to do so.”

  “By whom?”

  “Lady Terra,” Bridget answered. “She wanted Faith’s sins absolved before she died.”

  “What were her words?” Eric asked.

  “I am not certain, though I do recall Nora saying something about Lady Terra telling her that Lady Faith had met an evil end.”

  Eric stared at her. “Are you sure?”

  “I cannot be positive, though Nora repeated them often enough, reminding me of her part in helping Lady Faith. She boasted to me and other servants that it was because of her that the priest was there and waiting for Lady Faith when she was carried into her room.”

  At that moment a young servant girl entered the hall
with a message from Father Peter for Lord Eric. As soon as Eric learned that the priest was hearing Faith’s confession at her request he rushed out of the hall, Borg and Bridget close on his heels.

  o0o

  Faith’s scream did not come in time to save the priest. The dagger plunged in and out of his back with lightning speed and the frail man, his eyes wide with fright and a whispered prayer on his lips, fell to the floor.

  An unexpected vicious blow to her face sent Faith stumbling backward but she managed to remain on her feet and she cast angry eyes at her stepmother.

  Shouts, barks and incessant pounding on the door brought a laugh to Lady Terra. “Fools. They built this place to keep the women and children safe from their enemies. They will never get in.”

  Faith glared at her, not concerned at the moment for her life or with her escape, but curious for answers. This woman had wanted her dead, and had left her to die. And now she wondered if she had something to do with her attack. She wanted answers; she needed them after all these years.

  “Tell me the truth,” Faith simply said and waited, her posture that of a proud lady of the keep.

  “With pleasure,” Lady Terra said, her eyes bright with madness. “No one wanted you. Your mother came from poor stock, the fifth daughter of a near-penniless landowner. But your father wanted that land so he married your mother; to his relief she died in childbirth. Unfortunately you lived.”

  Faith refused to show any response to her malicious remarks. Her words left her with a heart full of sorrow and much regret for a mother she had never known and for a woman who never had the opportunity to know a love as potent and powerful as the love she shared with Eric. But she loved her mother most dearly, for she had given her the most precious of gifts—the gift of life.

  The pounding on the door continued along with the shouts, and Faith was certain she heard Eric calling out to her. She smiled to herself. He would not let her die, nor would Borg or Colin—and of course there was Rook. They would save her.

  Lady Terra laughed softly. “No one will save you, just as no one wanted you saved the night of your attack.” She looked with disgust on Faith. “William and I were always of the same mind. We thought you nothing more than a piece of worthless property, better left to rot or pawn off on someone. My daughters were the ones we wished to arrange substantial marriage contracts for and you stood in the way.”

  “Why not have married me to just anyone and have me out of your way?”

  Lady Terra shook her head. “You will never make a good mistress of a keep, you are too ignorant of the way of things. If William offered you to just anyone, then he could not expect to do well by my daughters. You needed to be completely out of the way.”

  “And you arranged it, though it did not go as you hoped.”

  “You foolishly fought the idiot,” she said almost in a shout and stopped, her hand quickly covering her mouth. She took a few deep breaths, lowered her tone and continued. “I told the man I hired to have his way with you and then kill you. Your death would have served us well. Poor William would have been able to mourn his daughter who died saving her honor and soul—but instead you lived and brought us shame.”

  “I shamed no one,” Faith said proudly.

  Both women heard the door crack and the pounding continue.

  Lady Terra turned wide eyes, but a soft voice on Faith. “This will be done here and now. I had thought it done with when William and I plotted to marry you off to the devil—a fitting arrangement. You were of no more concern to me and I had cleaned up quite nicely myself, doing away with your attacker, though there was one loose end.”

  “Nora,” Faith said in a whisper.

  Lady Terra nodded. “Dear, sweet, caring Nora… but not quite bright. She never realized that I had given her specific orders to fetch the priest because you had met an evil end. I had assumed you already dead and had yet to be informed that you still lived. When William told me of your husband’s summons, I thought, what an appropriate wedding gift to give you while ridding myself of one last nuisance.”

  “So you sent her to the keep ahead of everyone and she dutifully obeyed whatever foolish order you gave her and then you followed her.”

  “Was it a pleasant surprise, dear?”

  “You are mad.”

  The splintering of wood warned that they would soon have company

  Lady Terra raised the blood-stained knife. “I am very mad, my dear. When the Irish kings learn of Lord Eric’s banishment of Lord William from his land, they too will shun him for fear of losing the Irish devil’s favor. That I will not tolerate.”

  Faith went to take a step back and Lady Terra rushed forward, grabbing her hand. “You will meet the fate you should have met years ago and I will be the sorrowful stepmother who saw it all. I will tell your grieving husband how gallantly you fought your attacker for the second time, but how in the end he inflicted a mortal wound that claimed your life just before he died.”

  Faith jumped, startled by the screams of help that Lady Terra called out. “Hurry, you must hurry. He is going to kill her.”

  “My death will not change my husband’s feeling toward you,” Faith said and yanked her arm, trying to free herself.

  “The fool loves you so much that he will be lost in his misery and nothing will matter to him, least of all your father and I.”

  The next few seconds went by in a blur. Lady Terra raised the blade, the door crashed in, falling to the ground, and her husband stood in the doorway, the height and bulk of him filling the small space and his elongated shadow falling down the aisle across Lady Terra.

  “Drop the weapon,” he warned and took several steps inside the chapel, Colin and Borg following behind him while Bridget remained outside.

  “Stop,” Lady Terra screeched, and within the blink of an eye she had the knife held firmly against Faith’s throat. “I will kill her.”

  Eric stopped abruptly, as did Colin and Borg. Rook was the only one who continued on, no one but Faith having noticed him enter in a low crawl on his belly and proceed silently around the benches, headed to where she stood.

  “You bitch,” she screamed at Faith. “You have ruined everything. You should have died the first time I ordered it.”

  Eric carefully took a step closer, his heart pounding with fright.

  “Stop,” she screeched again and pushed the blade against Faith’s neck, causing a drop of blood to fall.

  Eric immediately remained where he was, fear for his wife’s life suspending all movement. “This is not necessary. We can discuss this.”

  “There is nothing to discuss,” Lady Terra yelled. “It is over. I will finally see to it being over.”

  Eric looked ready to pounce on the demented woman.

  “Nay,” came the soft whisper from Colin beside him. “She is too far away.”

  Eric agreed with Colin’s caution; Faith was too far away for him to reach her in time. The mad woman would have her throat cut in an instant. For the first time in his life he feared the outcome of a battle. There was always another maneuver to attempt, a plan to try, a possibility—but in this case there seemed to be nothing left but defeat.

  Faith looked on him with brave eyes. She did not whimper, cry or beg for her life. She stood proud and courageous, this woman who loved and trusted him.

  He could not fail her, he could not. He vowed to protect her, even with his life.

  She smiled at him as if she knew, understood his troubled thoughts and in her silence he thought he heard her plea. “Do not worry, Eric,” she said.

  He realized she spoke aloud.

  “Shut up,” Lady Terra warned.

  Faith disregarded her warning and continued. “I love you.”

  Eric grew frantic. What did she think to do?

  Colin and Borg grew concerned as well and without thought moved to take a step.

  “No,” Faith cautioned. “Do not, she is insane.”

  “Fools,” Lady Terra shouted.

  Fai
th saw that Rook was now close enough to attack and she looked to her husband, and spoke her heart in case this did not turn out as she hoped. “I will always love you, Eric.”

  Before he could respond, think or act, Faith, in a shrill voice, called out, “Rook!”

  The big dog seemed to appear out of nowhere. His large body sailed through the air, his growls sounding like mighty roars as he lunged directly for the two women.

  Given an instant to act, Faith grabbed for the dagger at her throat and struggled with the woman, placing Lady Terra in Rook’s direct path. With a chilling roar and his teeth bared Rook knocked the startled woman to the ground and with limbs flying frantically it was all Lady Terra could do to keep the angry animal from going for her throat.

  Eric rushed to his wife’s side, taking her in his arms and holding her as tightly as he could without stealing her breath from her. “I was never so fearful,” he whispered against her ear.

  She hugged him just as fiercely and with a tearful laugh of relief said, “The devil, fearful?”

  “Nay, a husband,” he said and kissed her.

  Colin and Borg were attempting to get Rook off Lady Terra but his snarls and snaps would not permit them near him.

  Faith was about to order Rook off her when Eric spoke up. “Cease, Rook, and you will be well rewarded.”

  The big dog stopped and turned large eyes on the couple. He then gave the trembling woman one more snarl and loud bark and moved off her to stand directly beside Faith.

  She immediately dropped to her knees and hugged the huge animal, kissing his snout and telling him how much she loved him and how brave he was. Rook responded with several lavish licks.

  “Enough,” Eric called out. “It is my turn.” With that he swung Faith up into his arms, ordered Colin and Borg to see to the crazy woman and ordered Rook to follow him, and then he marched out of the chapel.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Faith stood by her husband’s side and watched a grumbling Lord William and a bandaged and raving Lady Terra helped into a wagon. Dermot MacCathy, king of Cork, had responded immediately to Eric’s request for men to be sent to Shanekill keep to handle this matter at once. The king agreed and sent an escort of fifty men to return Lord William and Lady Terra to Donnegan keep, where he would be waiting to deliver their fate.