Lionel had Mara half way through the door, although Lily was tugging fiercely on her. “There is a priest in the great hall,” he bellowed. “I am doing what is my right, do you hear? I will marry Mara and we will be done with this foolish nonsense once and for all!”
Lily dug her heels in. “You will not marry her!” she cried. “Let her go!”
Mara, in a bad position, was being torqued quite seriously, but she managed to bite Lionel on the arm. He yelped and let her go, but was able to wind a hand into her dark, luscious hair. He pulled hard as she screamed.
“With me!” he roared. “Lily, let her go!”
The sounds of broadsword against broadsword filled the room, especially when Kirk and Spencer crashed into the massive wardrobe and sent it smashing over onto the floor. Wood exploded all over the room as Kirk managed to grab Spencer by the neck and throw him down onto the demolished pile. Micheline and the twins screamed, trying to move away from the fight, as the battle for Mara not only went on in front of them but also continued at the door.
Unfortunately, Lionel was stronger than his daughter and he had Mara in a painful position, so he was able to wrest her through the door and away from Lily. Lily, horrified and distraught, moved to follow.
“Kirk!” she cried. “He is taking her to the great hall to marry her! You must help her!”
Kirk heard the words and, with a frustrated roar, kicked Spencer as the man tried to get up. It was enough of a blow to cause Spencer to roll several feet away as Kirk made a break for the door. But Spencer somehow ended up on his knees and picked up a piece of the broken wardrobe, hurling it at Kirk. The wood caught him in the legs and knocked him down to one knee, giving Spencer enough time to run at him with his broadsword wielded. Kirk avoided two heavy blows as he struggled to his feet and the battle went on.
Lily had already run from the chamber, following her father and Mara. Mara’s angry screams were echoing off the walls as Lionel dragged her down the stairs. Kirk, however, had his hands full with Spencer; as much as he was frantic to rush to Mara’s aid, he was in a mortal battle. He needed to subdue Spencer before he could go after Mara.
But time was ticking.
*
Lionel got Mara as far as the entry to the great hall. There was some decorative iron railing in the wall and as Lionel pulled her through the entry, Mara reached out and grabbed it. It prevented Lionel from pulling her any further as she held on for dear life, screaming with pain as he yanked on her hair. When Lionel realized the hair wasn’t doing him any good, he wrapped his arms around her slender waist and tried to yank her free that way. Mara tried to kick him in the groin.
Lily, too, was working against him. She came up behind her father, jumped on his back, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She squeezed and squeezed, and Lionel was close to blacking out. He finally had to let go of Mara in order to dislodge his daughter. With Lionel occupied, Mara let go of the iron and ran for her life.
She raced back up the stairs to where Kirk and Spencer were still doing battle, only now they were out in the corridor destroying everything in their path. Mara didn’t want to cry out to Kirk and distract him, as she had done the last time Kirk and Spencer battled, because she well remembered what happened that time. Therefore, she ducked into the nearest chamber, hoping to find a weapon. If Lionel laid another hand on her, she was going to make the man pay.
She ended up in a spare chamber, small but nicely furnished. A quick and panicked perusal of the room showed that there were no weapons available. There was, however, a fire poker and shovel. Mara raced to the hearth and collected the iron poker. Taking a deep breath for courage, she ran back to the chamber door because she could hear the battle drawing closer. It was loud and frightening.
Mara was fully prepared to brain Spencer so Kirk could get the upper hand. But what happened next was not as she had planned; it occurred faster than she could comprehend. Soon, it was all spiraling out of control into deadly oblivion.
When she threw open the panel, Kirk and Spencer were right there. In fact, they were practically on top of her. Kirk, seeing Mara in the doorway, was distracted long enough for Spencer to take a huge swipe at his head. Kirk ducked in the nick of time but in doing so, hit his head on the wall and nearly knocked himself out because he was without his helm. He had left it back on his charger when he had arrived at Quernmore.
Mara, seeing Kirk go down, threw herself at Spencer, poker and all, and sent the man sideways into the opposite wall just as Lionel came racing around the corner. The old man was without Lily hanging all over him, running headlong into a battle without a weapon or any armor.
Kirk, dazed as he was, only saw a body. Assuming it was Spencer, he threw up his broadsword and Lionel ran right into it. In the blink of an eye, Lionel was impaled through the gut on the tip of Kirk’s massive broadsword.
Lionel groaned as the steel blade carved through him. Mara, hearing the sound, stopped beating up on Spencer and they both turned to see Lionel standing in the corridor with Kirk at his feet and a broadsword through his belly. He was just standing there as if he could not comprehend that he had just been mortally wounded. But swiftly, reality set in as he began to bleed out all over the floor. Blood gushed down his legs and onto the wood. His shocked gaze found Mara, who stood equally shocked gazing back at him.
Lionel smiled weakly at her. “All I wanted,” he breathed, “was a son….”
With that, he fell forward, quite dead, against Kirk. Kirk grabbed hold of the man and lowered him carefully to the ground. All they could do was stare at the deceased lord of Quernmore Castle. As swiftly and violently as the battle had begun, it was over. The sudden stillness was overwhelming.
For the longest time, no one said a word. They just stared at Lionel. Kirk moved first; he removed his broadsword from Lionel’s soft belly, almost gently. There was a good deal of regret there. His gaze lingered on the man for a moment before turning to Spencer.
“This does not please me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I did not intend to kill him like this.”
Spencer looked down at his liege. “I realize that,” he said. Exhausted, ill, shocked at the turn of events, he clumsily sheathed his broadsword and slumped back against the wall. “He did it to himself, Kirk. I have always known the man to be stubborn and willful, but never foolish. But… perhaps it is better this way.”
“What do you mean?” Kirk asked.
Spencer’s focus moved to Lionel, crumpled on the floor. “He was not being entirely selfish,” he said softly. “I know it looks that way, but he confided in me recently that he was dying. He saw this marriage to Mara as his last chance to have a son to replace Michael and preserve his legacy, but it seemed as if whatever desperation he felt turned to madness over the past few days. He simply wasn’t himself. It was the despair of a dying man, if that is of any comfort. So perhaps it is better that he meet his end quickly rather than looking forward to months of agony as his life slipped away.”
Kirk’s expression was serious. “Is this true?” he asked. “He was dying?”
“Aye.”
“Of what?”
“A mass in his belly. Already, his legs were growing numb and he was in great pain. Ask the castle physic if you do not believe me.”
Kirk looked at Lionel’s crumpled form through new eyes. He sighed heavily. “Although I am not without sympathy, it still does not excuse what he surely must have put Mara through. If I had not returned when I did, she would be Lady le Vay.”
“That is true.”
“That selfish behavior is not the man I knew.”
“Nor I. Attribute it to his illness if you must.”
Kirk’s gaze moved to Mara. Still standing against the wall next to Spencer, her lower lip was trembling as she looked at the man she loved with all of her heart. She dropped the fire poker and went to Kirk, collapsing into his embrace tearfully. As they held one another, in exhaustion and in joy, far down the hall, Micheline poked her head out of the cham
ber with the twisted door. The sudden silence in the corridor had prompted her to find out why.
“Kirk?” she called fearfully, seeing the collection of people at the end of the darkened corridor. “What has happened? Where is my sister?”
Mara let go of Kirk and ran down the hallway to her sister, sobbing as she threw herself into the woman’s embrace. The women hugged fiercely.
“Misha,” Mara wept. “I did not think I was going to ever see you again.”
Micheline smiled as she held her baby sister. “Of course you would see me again,” she said calmly, soothingly. “What has happened? Where is Lord le Vay?”
“Dead,” Kirk replied for Mara. “He is here, Misha, at my feet.”
Micheline could see a body in the dim hall. “Did… did you kill him because he married Mara?”
“He did not marry Mara. He did not have the chance.”
Micheline’s gaze lingered on Kirk before returning to her sister. Things were still confusing, but Kirk and Spencer were no longer fighting and she found that she was most grateful for that. In truth, she had been quite worried for Spencer.
“It would seem that there was a good deal of madness going on here at Quernmore,” she said to Mara. “Would you care to tell me all that has happened?”
Mara nodded, wiping at her eyes, but Kirk spoke from down the hall.
“She can tell you everything tonight at the wedding feast,” he said wearily, making his way down the hall and reaching out to collect Mara. “Right now, I understand there is a priest in the great hall. I intend he should marry Mara and I this very moment.”
Mara clutched his hand tightly, even tighter when he led her past Lionel as if afraid the man would rear up and grab her. Kirk took Mara and Micheline down to the great hall as Spencer, Wanda, and Valdine tended to Lord Lionel.
They found Lily tied to a chair near the mouth of the great hall, courtesy of her angry father. Kirk untied her and tried to explain what had happened as gently as possible. It wasn’t gentle enough; Lily burst into hysterical sobs and raced upstairs to find her father being cared for by Spencer and the twins. Although she did not agree with what her father had done, she still loved him and wept bitterly over his accidental death. He was all the family she had left.
Lily stayed with her father’s body throughout the marriage ceremony between Mara and Kirk. Mara, although joyful that she now had a new husband that she loved with all of her heart, was nonetheless distraught over her friend’s sadness and instead of a wedding night with her very exhausted husband, she sat with Lily all night, comforting her friend just as Lily had spent so much time comforting her. It was the right thing to do.
That night, the hellion finally grew up as her husband slept hard and dreamlessly in their marriage bed, snoring loud enough to rattle the doors. He missed his wife, of course, but he understood as well as encouraged her compassion towards the woman she had once hated jealously.
Now, there was no more jealousy or pain. The love that Kirk and Mara had for one another had come full circle and a bright future was on the horizon. No more horror, no more Darkland.
Kirk, as well as Mara, finally came to know peace.
Epilogue
The day was balmy and bright, and a strong breeze blew in off the Irish Sea, snapping the standards of Bowland that flew over Wicklow Castle. The smell of salt was in the air along with a hint of warmth, as the summer season had proven oddly warm during the middle of the day. This morning promised the same weather pattern as the inhabitants of Wicklow went about their business before it grew sticky.
Kirk entered the cool confines of the enormous keep. He had been in the bailey seeing to their baggage, for a cog was moored less than a mile away that would take them to the green fields of England. It had been a trip long planned to visit Micheline and he was anxious to get on with the travel while the weather held good. With baggage and possessions loaded, now it was time to load up his family. With four young children, that would be the tricky part.
He hadn’t taken five steps into the keep when he came to a halt and looked around at his feet as if he was missing something. Retracing his steps, his intense gaze roamed the bailey as he shielded the sun from his eyes.
“Ryan?” he called.
A moment later, a small boy with dark hair leapt onto the stone steps. He was a sturdy lad, five years of age, and in his arms he carried puppy. The dog’s long body trailed down, the hindquarters swinging as Ryan mounted the steps. Kirk frowned.
“Where on earth did you get that?” he asked.
Ryan Connaught turned his handsome young face to his father. “There was a dog that had puppies by the smithy shack,” he told his father excitedly. “I took one!”
Kirk cocked an eyebrow. “I can see that,” he said as the boy drew close and extended the puppy for his father’s inspection. “A fine beast. But you must return him to his mother.”
Ryan’s expression fell, looking much like his mother when her wishes were denied. “Papa, I want to take him with us,” he said sincerely.
Kirk shook his head. He started to reply but was cut short by first one scream and then another. Kirk turned towards the direction of the screams in time to see one of his daughters shooting out of the keep entry and bash into his legs. When he reached down to steady her, another daughter ran up on her heels and he grabbed them both to keep them from tumbling down the stairs.
“Regan!” Came the cry from inside the keep. “Bridget! Stop immediately!”
Fortunately, Kirk had the two year old and three year old girls by the arms as Mara emerged from the keep, holding several pieces of garments in her hands. Kirk looked at her curiously until he realized his daughters were only half-dressed.
“You are only now dressing them?” he asked his wife with strained patience. “We are supposed to be departing shortly. What is taking so long?”
Mara cast him an exasperated look. “The baby is screaming and these two will not stand still,” she said as she grasped Regan by the arm. “They are both trying to climb onto the windowsill for some reason. I would pull one out and the other one would climb up.”
Kirk smirked. “They get that particular trait from their mother.”
Mara didn’t see his humor. “We are going to have to do something about putting shutters over their windows,” she said. “I am terrified that they are going to fall out of the windows.”
He looked down at the dark-haired babies at his feet. “I will see what I can do,” he said. “But they really should be dressed by now. We must depart.”
“Then it would be very helpful if you could lend a hand.”
Kirk gave his wife a smile as he grasped the toddlers by the hands and led them gently back into the keep.
“You tend the baby, love,” he told her. “I will take the poppets in-hand.”
Mara reached down and scooped Bridget up. “Bridgie still needs her hose and shoes, and Regan needs nearly everything else,” she said as she watched Kirk pick up Regan. “I think she has a splinter in her toe; see?”
Kirk looked at the foot his wife was holding up into his face, kissing the dirty little foot as Regan squirmed and whined.
“I will get it out,” he said softly. “I’ll not let my baby suffer.”
Mara called out to her son, who rushed past his mother up the stairs, still holding the puppy. Mara called to him again but he ignored her, instead taking the puppy into his chamber and trying to hide him behind his bed.
As Kirk took care of Regan’s splinter, Mara went into the bed chamber occupied by her sons and wanted to know why Ryan had the puppy stuffed under his bed, but the little lad, being rather persuasive, was able to convince his mother that the puppy was a necessary fixture in his room. Mara didn’t have the patience to argue with him mostly because her ten month old son, Brendan, was screaming his lungs out in his pen on the opposite side of the chamber. She picked the baby up, comforting him.
With the baby in her arms, Mara went into the girls’ chamber to
hurry her husband along but found herself watching him interact with his daughters instead. Over the past five years, Kirk, the big Irish knight with the big voice, had turned into an incredibly soft and attentive father.
In a world where most men didn’t participate in child rearing, Kirk had gone out of his way to be a part of his children’s world. Ryan was his shadow, Regan and Bridget were his loves, and baby Brendan, with dark hair and his father’s gray eyes, was usually a fixture in his arms. While Mara had little patience sometimes, Kirk’s patience was infinite, and it made her love him all the more.
She watched him as he plucked the splinter out, kissing and hugging the little girl as he proceeded to pull her little hose on and tie on her little leather shoes. Regan was the oldest at three and a half years, and she was very much her father’s daughter, but Bridget, at nearly two and a half, was the image of her mother in both looks and manner. As Kirk tried to tie up the last of Regan’s shoe, Bridget wormed her way onto his lap and plopped down. Kirk simply worked around her.
“The boys are dressed and ready,” Mara said, entering the room with Brendan on her hip. “Do you need any help?”
Finished with the shoe, he managed to pull a light linen tunic over Regan’s head and set her on her feet.
“I do not,” he said, taking a similar linen tunic off the bed beside him and pulling that one over Bridget’s dark head. “I believe we are finished.”
He stood up and Mara handed him the baby as she collected soft-knit caps from the bed and pulled them over her daughter’s heads. With the children finally dressed and ready, she surveyed the room to make sure she didn’t forget anything.
“Did you pack the parcels for Micheline?” she asked Kirk. “The ones with the baby clothes in them?”
Kirk nodded patiently, going out into the corridor to make sure Ryan was removing the puppy from his chamber. “They were loaded,” he replied. “Drew put the packages on himself.”
“Are your brothers going with us?”
“They are not. I need someone here to manage Wicklow while we are away.”
Lords of the Isles Page 30