They sat together as Mara brushed out her long hair. It occurred to Alain it was the first time her mother had ever brushed her hair. In the nearly eight and ten years she’d lived on this earth, her mother had never brushed her hair.
“’Twas Killian’s mother’s brush!” She heard herself say and thought how meaningless the words were. Her voice felt irritated so long had she been silent.
“It’s lovely!” her mother replied.
“Aye, she was a kind and gentle woman... and very beautiful in appearance as well. I have seen her spirit here often. Most recently I saw her holding our babe in the churchyard. I thought to tell Killian, but wasn’t certain if it would bring him comfort or simply cause more uneasiness with these damnable abilities I possess!”
“I think it would comfort him, Alainn. He’s never appeared to be unreasonable regarding your powers. In truth, he has seemed unusually accepting of them.”
“Aye, well, that was before they were the cause of his son’s death!”
Mara moved from the bed and stared down into her daughter’s eyes as she spoke. “But you are not entirely certain it was the use of your powers that caused the tragedy, Alainn. You have not yet told your husband of the skullcap you were given that might have been the actual reason for the loss of your child.”
“Aye, but it was me who chose to use my powers even knowing there had already been bleeding, so perhaps it was not the powers, but only me, who caused the death our child. ’Tis of little use revealing these truths to Killian, or debating the actual cause; whether me or the powers I possess, for they are one and the same, I suppose”
“There are those who would believe the curse remains, and suggest that is what took your child’s life,” Mara admitted.
Alainn registered little emotion when she replied. “The curse is ended. I feel it in my bones.” Alainn assured her.
“But ’tis understandable that people might draw that conclusion. No O’Brien child has been born since the curse was allegedly ended. There are those who have suffered gravely because of it, and it has been whispered among gossipmongers that perhaps justice has been served, that it was befitting my grandchild would be taken by the very curse that I placed upon the O’Brien line, that my kin should be the last victim of my damnable curse.”
“It was not the curse that took my baby’s life. I am most certain of that, so you needn’t bear any guilt on the death of my babe. It was only me, and my abilities. And how evil a woman am I to have used my powers in a way that would endanger my unborn child, our own precious wee son!”
“You used them to save your man, and the lives of a more than a hundred other men. No one can flay you for that, Alainn! Anyone who knows you realizes what an uncommonly great love you and Killian share.”
“Shared!” She corrected. “He feels little for me at the moment, bar resentment and blame. I sense that well enough. And maybe he’ll not ever get past that! And, if that be truth, how can I continue to saddle him with me and this undesirable marriage for the rest of our lives. Sure it would be wise to find an end to it.”
“You have considered taking your life, Alainn? I hear it in your thoughts.”
“But being ever raised in the teachings of the priests and Christianity, I hesitate, for I am not certain I can risk eternal damnation. I cannot be parted from my wee child’s soul, nor from Killian’s soul in death.”
“Otherwise, you would see it done?”
“Aye, I would!” she admitted in a voice so lacking emotion they might well be discussing the recent snowfall.
“And would you have willingly gone with the demon this night as well?”
“No, taking my own life would have been much preferential to eternally dwelling with that foul beast, though I suppose I’d be made to meet many such hideous beasts if the hell the priests speak of does exist,” she admitted.
Mara bristled and angrily moved from the bed. “Do not dare to entertain those desperate thoughts again, Alainn O’Brien, for I sacrificed all comforts and human contact to see you safe and ensure you were allowed a decent life. I lived out my own life without the man I loved, and I swear to you I loved him as dearly as you love your own husband. And I survived. And I lived without you, for I only ever held you for two days. How dare you consider ending the very life I gave to you?”
“I did not ask that you sacrifice anything for me.” Alainn benignly stated not in argument or accusation.
Killian came into the bedchamber when he heard Mara’s angry voice. “What has you so riled, Mara?” he demanded to be told.
“Ask your wife, why I am angry beyond any rage I have felt in decades?”
“Alainn?” he questioned, but she simply turned away from him.
“Take her dagger!” Mara ordered Killian.
“What?” He wasn’t certain why the woman requested that of him.
When he looked down at Alainn, he saw the resolve in her eyes and he took the anelace from the nightstand with a complete look of horror upon his face.
“Why do you both appear so stunned?” she asked, again in a weak emotionless voice, “’Twould be less painful than many a death, and quicker by far than most.”
Killian’s face twisted in anger and he crouched beside her. “You must promise me you will never do yourself harm! Tell me you’ll not end your life by your own hand, for if you do, you are truly a spiteful selfish woman, to even consider leaving me here to grieve alone and twofold!”
She turned her eyes to meet him, but she noticed how he avoided meeting hers. That only proved to make her heart break even further knowing he couldn’t even bear to look at her. She did not speak.
“Promise me, Alainn!” he insisted.
“I promise I will not be the cause of my own end.” She appeased him.
Although he still did not look at her, he gently touched her hand, but he kept the dagger with him. He glanced down at her and noticed she did not wear her amulet.
“Where is the amulet?” he demanded to know.
“In the hearth fire in the tower room,” she admitted once more in an empty voice.
“Christ, Alainn! Do you not recall Niall warned you, dark powers can get to you when you are without the charm of the amulet? ’Tis most fortunate gods and spirits were with us and have granted us great favor this night, but you must ensure you wear the amulet always.”
“My grandfather is a kind man, a wise man, and perhaps much knowledgeable of many druid ways, but he thinks the amulet can protect me from the dark entities. The darkness I now feel within my own heart is blacker by far than any evil I’ve been witness to, blacker than any other evil I might encounter, I assure you. No amulet can shield me from that darkness.”
“You’ll wear the amulet, woman, by God you will!”
He stormed out of the room and Alainn sighed a deep sigh as she lay down upon the bed. Her mother covered her and placed a kiss upon her cheek as she left her to her slumber.
She was asleep when Killian placed the charred amulet around her neck and covered her shivering, slender form with extra quilts. He placed several more peat logs on the fire. Before he left, he glanced back at her as she slept and felt utter self-loathing, surely as deep as her own at knowing he could not lie with her or hold her. He could offer her no comfort. Not yet!
Chapter Thirty-Eight
From that night forward, Killian became overbearing in his diligence in checking on Alainn’s condition. He made certain the fire in the heath was kept blazing day and night, to the point the entire chamber was filled with uncommon and often uncomfortable warmth. He monitored closely what Alainn ate and made certain Eireen saw to it she bathed and dressed daily.
He felt certain Alainn despised him treating her like a child, but she did not resist him in any manner, which only caused him greater despair for he realized her spirit was far from being mended. But he was relieved to watch her health slowly return. Her hair shone once more, and her skin began to glow, though her eyes still held a haunted quality and she wou
ld never allow her gaze to meet his. She was meek and quiet and submissive, qualities many men would find most appealing in a wife, but it brought him displeasure, knowing it was entirely out of character for Alainn to allow herself to be controlled in any manner.
Mara had returned to Castle O’Brien and Alainn had met their farewell with no obvious emotion as she evidently confronted all of life at present. She still had not wept over the loss of their babe, and it wore at Killian’s heart to know one day she would surely be overcome with such devastation and heartache, he wasn’t certain she could bear it. But, he also knew it was necessary if she was ever to return to the woman she once was.
He had been sleeping apart from her from the time they’d lost their son. Since the night he’d brought her back to their bedchamber, he had found a room directly above her and he felt himself aching for her at night, knowing she was there alone and in need of love and comfort, but he could not bring himself to go to her when he had still not come to terms with their loss and both their parts in it.
Danhoul remained sleeping in the chamber next to hers and he felt the young man probably harbored similar desires for her, but he remained honorable and, in truth, he believed Danhoul Calhoun had distanced himself from her so she did not become entirely reliant upon him. Killian was developing a deep respect for the man, and he had begun to think of him as his friend and most certainly his staunchest ally in seeing Alainn well.
Killian had heard reports of the English drawing back and of many returning to England. The loss of the great number of men that day in the valley surely hit them hard even knowing what numbers they boasted. He’d never discussed any of it with Alainn. And, in actuality, they barely spoke, save the conversations regarding her wellness.
He quizzed Eireen on what his wife did to fill her days. He asked the woman if she read or sang or played the harp. He wondered if she ever thought to venture outdoors to the herb garden or to the stables, even to the chamber where she mixed and prepared potions. Always the answer was the same. She sat by the window and looked out upon the graveyard, but she would not go to the graveside of their son, or even move from the one room in her expansive chambers.
She never read, except briefly from the scriptures, and he’d been sorrowed further to hear she desired contact with even fewer people now. She had not yet seen her grandfather or Riley since the night they’d buried their son, though Niall O’Rorke had come daily in hopes of spending time and comforting his only granddaughter.
Alainn had apparently requested that Mary and Cookson no longer be allowed within her chambers. She now only saw Eireen, and Danhoul, and himself. Though he suspected if she could deny him the right to be near her, she might. He felt he could possibly force her to take nourishment and care in matters of a personal nature, but he could hardly order her to have visitors if she wanted so little company at the moment.
Samhain was fast approaching and he’d hoped Alainn would be acting and feeling more herself by now for, at one time, she anticipated it with great joy and elation. She had spoken of taking him to a fairy glade and watching the magical happenings she claimed only happened in such multitudes and splendor on and near that day. She’d also talked of going to the druid ceremony her grandfather always held to honor that holiday, but he suspected none of it held any meaning to her any longer.
Once, a very long time ago, when she’d first taken him to the fairy glade near Castle O’Brien, she had sadly spoken of believing they would be parted by the time Samhain fell. And when he thought about it, he was overcome with sadness for he realized they were indeed parted. Though they lived under the same roof and were married, it was a marriage in name alone for they seldom spoke and never touched.
He was perhaps more to blame for that than her, but it had gone on for so long now, he wasn’t even certain where to begin to make amends for his wrongdoings toward her or to bridge the insurmountable distance that had formed between them. He couldn’t even determine how he actually felt toward her anymore, whether he still harbored resentment and blame. He felt all consuming guilt and heartache. Of course he still loved her. He would always love her till the end of his days. And he couldn’t dispute he still burned for her but, beyond that, he felt an emptiness rivaled only by her own, he suspected.
As he looked out the window across his study, he shivered, for the air held a constant chill. The ground was white, even though it was autumn. Winter should not yet be upon them. They seldom had snow in this area so close to the sea, but it had fallen more than a few times recently, and the ground remained frozen which was another completely foreign happening. He believed Alainn was entirely responsible. For although she’d previously caused weather changes during times of her anger or her jubilance, he felt certain it was the icy emptiness she now felt that had brought about the unusually cold and early winter. He was startled by the voice that interrupted his thoughts.
“Aye, ’tis her doin’, the bitter cold and the ice.”
“By Christ, you hear my thoughts now, Danhoul?”
“Aye, and they mirror your wife’s much as of late. One of you must end this dismal separation, and I believe it must be you. Until you speak of forgiveness, she’ll not be liable to heal entirely.”
“Why is she so cold all the time?” He chose to ask a question rather than respond to Danhoul’s statement.
“Blood loss and weight loss are both known to cause a constant chill and she’s had dangerous degrees of both.”
“But her weight increases now.”
“Some, ’tis true, but since you’ve surely not seen her without benefit of garments, I doubt you know how thin she actually is!”
“And you’re suggestin’ you have?”
“Aye, Killian, indeed your wife and I have been enjoyin’ a fervid love affair these past months! Can’t you tell by her great joy and mirth, she’s a woman well loved and deeply satisfied?”
“I’ll thank you not to make light or jest about matters of that nature, and your sarcasm is far more typical of Alainn, or once was common for her at any rate.”
Danhoul nodded.
“Why did the magical protection spell you placed on the tower room not keep the dark being from entering the chamber?” Killian asked for it had been on his mind for a goodly time.
Danhoul shrugged. “I am not entirely certain. I charmed the door, the hearth, the narrow slats; no being with untoward intentions should have been able to enter. It is supposed the dark one possesses the ability to create portals with which to enter a location. I suspect he wishes to get to Alainn before Samhain for then her own abilities will be at their strongest. She will be capable of resisting him, perhaps banishing him at least for a time. Her powers will be perhaps uncontrollable even by her at that time.”
Killian was not eager to dwell on that consideration and, as always, the thoughts of both the evil being and Alainn being incapable of controlling her supernatural abilities left him feeling as though he understood very little of the world of magic. He glanced at the other man for he stood there as though he had something of further importance on his mind.
“Is there something you’re wantin’ to discuss with me, Danhoul?”
“Aye, and it’s sure to be something you may not wish to hear, but I’ll simply tell you plain what I believe to be truth; the dark witch will attempt to lure you to her bed, and it will happen soon!”
“The dark witch? What are you talkin’ about, Danhoul?”
“Ciara, the healer’s granddaughter, she knows well enough you and your wife are not on intimate terms and soon she will attempt to take advantage of this knowledge! Though I have no proof, I believe she was in part behind the spell placed upon the castle the night the demon attempted to get to Alainn. And perhaps it was Ciara who slipped the potent sleeping potion in your drink that night as well.”
“You truly think she is a witch? I have never seen her present any powers, and I am still not so certain it was a spell she put on me when we were together those years ago! I don�
�t believe Ciara was anywhere near me or my drink the night in which you speak of.”
“Believe what you will, but heed my warning. Ciara will summon you to her bed by way of her powers or simply her feminine wiles, I cannot say. However, I do know with no uncertainty, though Alainn may seem incapable of jealousy or any emotion at the moment, she’ll not take kindly to you sharin’ a bed with that temptress!”
“I’ve no intention of going to any woman’s bed at the moment. ’Tis clear you don’t care for Ciara, I see that plain enough, and if you believe she is in allegiance with the demon, I can see certainly see why you would not trust her. I know you have a keen intuition so I’d be inclined to heed your warnings. Yet I sense there is more, something I am unaware of, what has she done to make you distrust you so completely?”
The young, blonde-haired man seemed deep in thought and he pushed the loose stands of hair from his eyes as he often did when he was concerned about something. Killian noticed and thought it odd he was spending so much time in his company he was beginning to know his habits.
“She takes many men to her bed on a whim or to enlist them in her wrongdoings. She has been with your cousin and the young cook as well. She’s attempted to seduce your captain, his son, the Scottish groom, and me as well!”
“By God’s nails, I suppose she truly is a whorish woman! The fact she’s been with Riley... well that does not surprise me in the least, he beds women constantly with inducement or no, but Cookson, sure he’s never ever been with a woman before that I know of. Mac is a man of deep conviction and has already suffered through the dire consequences of seduction by a woman once in his life, so I doubt he’d fall prey to the woman.
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