She remained perfectly still, closed her eyes, and simply savored the misty spray of the saltwater on her face. She gently rubbed it against her cheek to quiet her burdensome notions and directed her magic only toward calming her unsettled stomach.
They were setting out for Scotland, the land to the north of their beloved Ireland, and even now crossing the often rough waters of the Irish Sea. It was considered unwise by many to make the crossing with winter soon approaching, but she had pushed for them to go now and not wait until the following spring. She believed somewhere in the untamed land of Scotland she would find her father, Teige O’Rorke. She had seen it in her visions, was confident in that one certainty, and she held tight to it.
Killian had started to walk toward her and Alainn placed her hand to her head as she stood, in hope of dispersing the constant dizziness. She kept her eyes on only him and once more tried to ignore the swirling water all around her.
“Alainn, are you quite well? You’re lookin’ as pale as a spirit!” There was some suspicion in his eyes as he observed her appearance. “Is it the memories of the horrific storm you’re recalling? Do you sense the sea growing unsettled? Are you fearful of another squall?”
“I’ve had no visions to indicate the waves will strengthen and no, I am not unduly fretful of such events transpiring.” She shook her head.
“Is it simply the rough water then that causes your stomach to be ailin’ so, or is it something else altogether?”
“Aye, sure that must be the cause of it, Killian!” She smiled reassuringly as she looked up at him. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss. He tenderly gathered her in his arms and held her tight as they spoke.
“I don’t recall you havin’ such a weak stomach when we made the passage to England. And though it isn’t entirely smooth, thankfully the water is reasonably calm here at the moment.”
Alainn remembered that journey, the first time she’d ever left Ireland’s shores and how she’d been made to still the waves back then. As she dared to glance out at the water even now, she closed her eyes and calmed the water with her magic.
“My potion has remedied your own wretched stomach, Killian?” she queried seemingly ignoring his questions and his concerned tone.
“Aye, as always, my love, your potion has proved infallible. Did you charm it with your magic as well then, Lainna?”
“Aye!” She smiled up at him as he referred to her by the fond name he had given her when she was just a wee girl.
“Well, I am most grateful to you for that, as are half the men who have embarked upon this sailing with us for more than a few were wary in making the crossing. I am well pleased you have the gift of healin’ and of magic, for you have cured many an unsettled stomach this day. But why has it not had a healing effect on your queasiness, Alainn?”
“Perhaps I may be experiencing a touch of the putrid stomach. Before we journeyed to the port there were others at Castle O’Donnel who seemed to be assailed with the same grueling malady,” she said in a matter of fact tone, longing to dispel his concern. “Tis hoped the new healer, Roisin and her reputable ability to create healing remedies will soon relieve their present discomfort.”
Though she had attempted to swiftly changed the subject, she was grateful for the distraction when Conner MacLain approached. He was to accompany and guide them on this proposed venture for he hailed from Scotland and knew the land and the people well.
As he walked toward them, he threw her a knowing glance at her ashen color, but he did not mention the previous night when he’d found her out on the cliffs and believed she was about to put a drastic end to her own life. Although she had needed to confide to him the truth about her condition, now he only nodded politely to her. She did not move from Killian’s arms, nor did he seem inclined to release her even though they were in the company of others. Clearly anyone who knew them was aware of their deep love for one another and their often affectionate mannerisms.
Alainn had aptly healed Conner’s swollen, blackened eye inflicted by Killian’s fist in the midst of the previous night’s grave misunderstanding, and Killian’s wounds, also. Killian had mistaken Conner’s act of bravery as something untoward, and, to be fair, when he happened upon them, she agreed it would have appeared the man was dishonorable in his actions. He had pulled her away from the gale force winds near the cliffs and consequently fallen atop her which was how Killian had found them.
It was fortunate the night hadn’t ended with someone dead and not simply a blackened eye for a lengthy physical confrontation had ensued, but apparently neither man maintained animosity toward the other regarding the unfortunate incident. As Conner engaged Killian in conversation regarding the details of their journey, Killian gently kissed her forehead, smiled warmly, and then left her to walk companionably with the other man.
Alainn truly well-liked Conner McLain, although he was feared by many. He had suffered hardships that contributed to the man eventually taking a perilous path. After serving a sentence of years in prison, he had entered into a dangerous life as a hired killer. Most did not entertain the notion of even speaking to the fearsome man much less befriending him. But he had a kind heart and despite his reputation, his sometimes gruff demeanor, and physically threatening appearance, he was a good man, and would be loyal without question.
He was apparently still a wanted man in some areas of Scotland and Alainn was not certain it was the wisest of choices for him to return. Yet he had agreed to it without pause. Alainn was filled with empathy for Conner’s present plight. He shared an ill-fated mutual love with Mary O’Brien. She was Alainn’s valued friend and married to Riley O’Brien. Riley was both Killian and Alainn’s cousin. Riley and Killian’s shared a paternal connection and Alainn’s father, Teige was brother to Riley’s mother Siobhan.
Although Riley and Mary’s marriage had been arranged and was a marriage without peace or any degree of happiness, she carried Riley’s child. Conner had done what he felt was safest and the most honorable for her. He’d left her behind even though it surely broke his and Mary’s hearts.
As much as Alainn would have greatly desired to see Mary and Conner together, Riley was not a man to be crossed for he was unconscionable and often given to violence. Both Alainn and Killian had been made to deal with his temper and his unreasonableness on numerous occasions. Riley continued even now with his lecherous behavior, having any number of adulterous affairs with many women including Ciara McCree, a woman who had caused much misery between Alainn and Killian. Few were aware Ciara was a witch with mystical dark powers and was in allegiance with the despicable demon. Riley made absolutely no attempt to conceal his indiscretions from his wife, and he foolishly chose to disbelieve Alainn and Killian when they alerted him to Ciara’s sinister magic and vexatious connections.
Alainn had even dared to consider conspiring with Mary in an attempt in fleeing from Riley, but Mary was mere weeks away from her term and, considering the precariousness of Alainn’s own life just now, she felt she couldn’t be of certain assistance to her friend. She deemed she may cause further calamity for Mary no matter her good intentions.
Riley was a noble, a harsh man of power not unlike his father, and he was possessive of Mary and the fact she would soon bear him a child. The law of the land in Ireland and perhaps everywhere in this the sixteenth century, would unwaveringly favor him. Should Mary think to leave him, she would possibly meet a cruel fate, perhaps the least drastic or most favorable in having her child ripped from her arms at birth, never to see him again. Having lost her own son, the heartbreaking thought of Mary suffering the same sadness had sealed Alainn’s decision in refraining from interfering and in leaving Mary, though in a discontented life, a life she would live with her child.
It saddened her to know Mary and Conner were parted and could not pursue their love, but Alainn felt some relief in knowing a sea and soon a good portion of two countries separated Riley and Conner. Although she’d not witnessed any actual visions to
indicate there would be unrest between them, she was filled with great unease whenever she dwelled upon the two, large strong-willed men, both well-skilled with swords. She shivered and was soon covered in goose flesh and was overcome with a sense of impending doom. Yet, she had experienced no sudden throbbing of her head or violent nausea beyond what she was already experiencing, so sure there was no immediate danger to dwell upon.
Alainn glanced at Killian once more and uttered a sigh of relief in seeing he had walked to the other end of the ship, still engrossed in conversation with Conner and not looking in her direction at the moment. She was well aware her already pale complexion had steadily waned with the worrisome thoughts that filled her mind, her own dilemma notwithstanding. She ever so slowly sat down once more. Even the slight movement made her stomach lurch, yet again, and she stifled a noxious fit of gagging. As the distance between her and her husband widened, her eyes filled with further tears she attempted to quell. She might have been successful if she’d not noticed her friend Danhoul staring at her. As he drew nearer, he looked down at her with anxiousness upon his face. He leaned against the ship’s rail with a solemn expression, and then squatted beside her.
“You’ll not be capable of concealin’ it from him for very much longer,” he said in a hushed tone.
They might have simply spoken through telepathy, but Alainn believed that would surely appear odd if he was beside her without addressing her or speaking.
Alainn’s eyes finally brimmed over with tears again now steadily sliding down her cheeks. She hurriedly swiped at them and glanced at Killian again, hoping he had not noticed.
“I had thought to tell him. I even attempted it on more than a few occasions, but always he prevented me from speaking or I couldn’t go through with admitting the truth. Now I feel certain he cannot know!” she whispered with determination.
“Well, sure he’s bound to learn about your condition soon enough. ’Tis entirely odd he hasn’t suspected already with your constant uneasy stomach and your ever-blossoming bosom.”
“Sure he has already voiced his suspicions in both those regards, and I’ll thank you to keep your own eyes from my bosom, Danhoul Calhoun!”
It was clear he had hoped to lighten her mood with a hint of humor, but his eyes held a distinct somber quality impossible to conceal by his good-natured taunting. She attempted to stifle a sob, quickly stood, and turned away when she saw Killian looking her way. The sudden movement made her head spin and her stomach reel. She was forced to hang her head over the ship’s rail and spew in earnest.
Danhoul’s smoky gray-blue eyes filled with empathy and Alainn sensed his own heart was woeful. She heard his thoughts and they, too, saddened her for Danhoul had undeniably fallen in love with her. She was also well aware that at one time, in one or perhaps more of the many lives they had apparently lived together, she had loved him as well. The distant memories of those other lives sometimes came to her and Danhoul maintained considerably more memories than she did. It must be most difficult for him. When she had finally ended her fit of spewing, she wiped her mouth on a cloth, ingested more of her remedy, and gingerly sat down again.
She spoke once more of the displeasing topic they had been discussing. “I know now without the slightest doubt there is nothing to be done but to rid myself of the child.”
“Aye, I concur, there is no other choice.” His voice held a distinct sadness in her obvious displeasure, but he spoke on the objectionable topic nonetheless. “It must be done very soon, Alainn. Perhaps it should have been attended to before we set out for Scotland.”
“I had hoped the herbs would have succeeded in ending my time with child, but thus far, the herbal remedies often used for such deeds have proven entirely ineffective. I have been taking them several times a day for days on end now. I have resorted to creating and drinking unusually potent remedies and combinations not without the possibility of causing harm. All I’ve gotten for my trouble is an ever-worsening putrid stomach from ingesting unwise quantities.”
“Perhaps it is the demon somehow sending his dark vengeance in form of purulence in retaliation of you foiling his plans to see you either summoned to his side or killed by the cursed blade. Have you considered the possibility he might have directed the violent queasiness toward you in knowing you attempt to rid yourself of the dangerously pernicious child that grows within your womb?”
She shook her head at that dismal possibility, but did not reply as she kept turned away from Killian’s gaze and more tears fell. She finally uttered words she had never expected to cross her lips.
“More drastic measures must surely be taken! I suspect there is many an aged crone to be found somewhere in Scotland with suitable knowledge of how to root out an undesired child. With my wretched stomach, it will not be difficult to feign illness while Killian and Conner make inquiries to the nearest local prison. My continued visions of my father would suggest he is or once was recently held prisoner somewhere in Scotland. When Killian is otherwise engaged, you must take me to where it can be done in secrecy. Conner has agreed to assist us in speaking with the locals and finding a woman capable of aiding me.”
“I’m not certain it was wise to include Conner in this. Sure the less people who know of your condition the better.”
“I had little choice in the matter. When he attempted to save me at the risk of his own life, I felt the need to explain why he’d seen me standing so near the edge of the cliffs.”
“Yet you continue to keep the truth from your husband? Perhaps you underestimate him, Alainn. He loves you well. Sure he’d understand.”
“He cannot know!” Alainn insisted. “Sure I’ve told you his deep conviction in disagreeing with preventing conception. How might he react if he knew I endeavor to discover a means to expel the child within me? He can never suspect the truth of it!”
“How can he not suspect? Does he truly not know you shared the king’s bed, that you were driven to allow the bloody Tudor monarch to defile you?” The words were issued in a tone barely more civil than if Killian himself had spoken the deplorable, disgraceful truth.
“He must never know!” Alainn hissed as she determinedly repeated the words. “No good can ever come from him learning of this.”
“Sure he would recognize the truth of it and understand it was done in hopes of saving Lily from such torment and in saving his life, and freeing him from the tower… in assuring both of us were freed from the tower!”
“He would not understand, Danhoul. With no uncertainty, he forbade me to do anything that would allow the king to become besotted with me. He specifically warned me that should I share the king’s bed to ensure his freedom, he would never forgive me… and Killian is a man of his word!”
“Perhaps! But you cannot know for certain if you continue to keep him in the dark and if he knew your intentions were to see Lily removed from further torment at the hands of men.”
“There is no doubt in my mind, Danhoul. He would never find it in his heart to forgive me if he learns I was bedded by King Henry; no matter the reason! And to know the undesired, yet nonetheless adulterous joining created a child now entirely consumed in evil by the cursed blade… Why would I care for him to carry such guilt? I see how it wears on you. To cloud the damnable truth of it you are driven to constantly drown it in whiskey or ale.”
Danhoul simply turned away from her adept reckoning.
“Perhaps an even more worrisome consideration would be if the king knew you carried his child, sure he would want to secure him as a possible heir to the throne of all of England.”
“The queen, Jane Seymour, has given birth to her son barely a week ago, and by all recent accounts from England, the king is overwhelmed with joy and relief. He has no need for another heir, and he would not think to claim a bastard child by an Irish woman.”
“Aye, but I know through my knowledge of the future and you through your precise premonitions, the new heir, Edward VI, will always be of ill-health. He will maintain a
sickly and weak constitution, and never live to become a man.”
“Aye, I have seen it in my visions, he will be but six and ten when he succumbs to his many maladies.”
“Should the king learn of your son, he would gladly take him and keep him as the next in line perhaps even find a way to proclaim him legitimate when he discovers his son is unsound of body. If the demon can find a way, sure he will see it happen.”
“That can never happen. I sense this child is already filled with such evil. If he inherited even a portion of my magical abilities and became King of England one day, sure the entire world would be at his mercy. But I assure you, Danhoul, there is no fear of King Henry learning of this sordid secret. With my magic I ensured he would have no memory of me, not of my face or my name, nor anything of our time together.”
“It is hopeful your magical spell holds and the demon does not find a way for the king to remember you. The dark demon would benefit much from having the king remember so that he might take the darkly-affected child and secure his positon as heir to the English throne,” Danhoul dared to suggest.
This time, Alainn gasped at that unthinkable possibility and her face drained of color entirely.
The spirit of Shylie O’Rorke appeared beside them. The girl, not yet a woman, had met her death at the age of three and ten, killed at the hands of the very demon now intent on following Alainn. Shylie was sister to Alainn’s father, Teige. Shylie had possessed magic in life, which she carried with her in death. She had adamantly insisted on accompanying them on the journey to Scotland.
Although Alainn hadn’t been aware spirits could actually fall in love, it was clear Shylie was deeply and unequivocally smitten with Danhoul. She was seldom found far distanced from the young druid, but Shylie was also aptly capable of sensing evil and because of that, she had avoided being near Alainn. It was apparent; the evil being that now grew within Alainn, left Shylie more and more unsettled. She stared down at Alainn with her spectral eyes now filled with empathy, but she did not draw nearer, nor did she speak.
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