A Witch's Quest

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  She sat down upon the bed beside him and touched her hand to the stubble on his jaw. She smiled at the immediate overwhelming love she felt for him. If she was to die, or was even now dead, she would only be saddened their time together was cut short. She would perhaps be regretful that she had been headstrong and willfully difficult at times. She’d be sorrowful of the wasted time months ago when she had chosen to live apart, after they’d lost their baby boy and all between them had been strained and distressing. But her regrets would be few. She would never rue the time spent with Killian. She would treasure their friendship through the years together. Falling in love with him, marrying him and having Killian’s love and devotion was the greatest treasure she had known in her eight and ten years upon this earth. Even though they’d suffered hardship and tragedy, she would always be grateful for their time together.

  She felt a tear slide down her face and her hand went to her cheek to find it was wet. She found herself curiously wondering if spirits actually maintained the ability to weep. She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon Killian’s ever-appealing lips. He started, pulled away and placed his finger to his lips. She hadn’t expected him to be capable of feeling her kiss, but he reacted to it as surely as if she’d been there in true form. He looked toward her as though he might actually see her, or at the very least, sense that she was right there beside him. Was that further proof she was dead and now a spirit? Her heart ached for him, for she knew him well and he would undoubtedly pine for her, and even worse she was certain he would blame himself for her death.

  He had brought her here to London even knowing there may be danger in store for them, but his intentions had been pure for he’d needed to ensure she was kept away from Ciara, the woman who had caused much discord for her and between she and Killian. Alainn believed Ciara possessed maleficent magical abilities. She was part of a dark coven of witches known to perform gruesome rituals and dangerous spells. They had surely killed Glynnis, the healer from their castle, and they had been coming to Alainn in her dreams, taunting and frightening her in her visions for some time now. Killian had been greatly disturbed by this and hoped to keep her close to him so that he would be capable of protecting her.

  She would never think to place blame on him for anything that had happened to her while they’d been in England. She had longed to be here by his side, and she’d been keenly aware of the possible peril. The untimely incident that had enfolded could surely have happened anywhere if that was what fate had in store for her. She might have been struck down by a coach in any city even back in Ireland. If the demon had a part in it, then it would be unlikely it could have been prevented.

  Aine, the Celtic fairy princess, her own great-grandmother had once warned her that it was often impossible to change fate, that a person with magical abilities may be capable of prolonging, possibly lessening or altering the events, but that often times if something was fated to be, there was little to be done about it.

  But this would surely haunt Killian till the end of his days, to believe he caused or contributed to her demise. She would not permit him to live out his days wrought with guilt. If she had truly been killed she must find a way to somehow undo this. Perhaps she might go back in time, but would that even be possible if she was a spirit? First and foremost, she decided she must discover if she was alive, and if she had not yet died, she must find a way to ensure it remained so.

  She heard Danhoul’s voice continuing to call to her, and with a tender gesture of love she caressed Killian’s cheek once more, gently pulled her fingers through his thick dark brown hair, touched her hand to the charmed pendant around his neck and watched it begin to glow in response to her touch. Alainn saw Killian stare down at the glowing amulet as well, and she whispered a hasty prayer that he would remain protected from harm, before she turned to follow the ever insistent voice of her friend and guardian to where it might lead her.

  Killian placed his hand to his cheek and wondered what type of peculiarity or magic he was experiencing. He was nearly certain he had sensed a kiss upon his lips and a caress on his cheek. It was the oddest sensation, as though Alainn was truly kissing and touching him. They had shared many kisses both tender and loving, torrid and passionate. He was certain he could well distinguish Alainn’s kiss from any other kisses. Perhaps with her unusual magical abilities she was able to send him this sign of her love from across the distance that separated them now. She was surely telling him she was now safely settled back in their treasured Ireland. But it was as though she had truly been there with him. He was also nearly certain he detected the lovely fragrant scent of her long beautiful blonde locks.

  He placed his hand on the amulet that remained hanging from the leather strand around his neck. Alainn had given it to him some time ago and insisted he wear it at all times to ensure he was protected from evil or dark enemies, but this time he knew he hadn’t imagined it; it had glowed. Previously it only glowed when something or someone magical was near him. At times it was to alert him of evil or dark magic, but during those times it burned uncomfortably against his skin. It always glowed brightly when Alainn and her magic were near, but that was a warm and welcoming sensation. It had always been comforting to him. No, he had not imagined this or created a fanciful notion...he believed Alainn had been here even now, right here beside him.

  He would not dare to allow himself to think it might have been Alainn’s spirit that had come to him. He knew the Irish Sea was rough and often times unpredictable. In truth there was many a ship that had met a doomed fate on those unruly waters. Had there been a mishap at sea? Had Alainn’s ship met with peril? He felt his heart lurch and his stomach tighten at the grim and unthinkable possibility. Had he sent her away with the intention of keeping her safe and unknowingly sent her to her death?

  He would need to find a way to discover whether she and Danhoul and the others from his clan had made it to Ireland without incident. How he would accomplish that he wasn’t certain, for the only people he had seen in many days were the guards at the door. One was the guard who passed him his food morning and night and stood part way down the corridor from early morning till after the sun went down. The other guard came during the hours of darkness and was not as capable in his duties for he reeked of drink and often slept through his watch. He was a surly unpleasant fellow and often given to cussing loudly to himself and others, and snoring louder. If ever Killian thought to escape it would surely need to be during the hours after darkness fell. Yet, it was clearly an impossible consideration. The tower and the nearby castle were heavily guarded at each entrance.

  Killian had not been called to see the king in well over a week, and he wasn’t certain how he would discover the fate of Alainn’s ship without allowing anyone to know of his connection to her. He could not permit anyone, most especially the untrustworthy king to know Alainn’s identity. Since he had fallen out of favor with King Henry and soon thereafter found himself imprisoned in the tower simply because he would not bend to his every demand, Killian had hoped to keep Alainn ever distanced from the deceptive and dangerous Tudor monarch.

  Killian went to the door and stared out the small barred window, calling out to the nearby guard, thankful it was the much more agreeable guard who now stood watch. He had not spoken to him before other than a brief polite acknowledgement each time he brought him sustenance. The guard came to him straightaway, clearly curious as to why Killian would now wish to speak with him.

  “I must take audience with your king.”

  “The king has given specific orders that you’re not to be brought before him until you intend to heed his word. He says you’re not to fritter his time away again unless you’re through insulting him and are finally willing to abide by his wishes.”

  Killian narrowed his eyes, surveyed the massive padlock on the outside of the door, the formidable sized guard and the sword on his belt. There was no hope of escaping this prison even if he still maintained possession of a sword of his own. He would n
eed to find another way.

  “Then I must be allowed to meet with one of the Irish chieftains, Chieftain Gallagher or Chieftain O’Neill. I simply request a brief meeting with one of my countrymen. They are sure to be found near the castle gates.”

  “That request could also only be granted by the king, so once again you must agree to his demands before I will request you be taken to him.”

  Killian’s face must have revealed his frustration, for the guard spoke again.

  “Might I ask what deed you are so entirely opposed to that you refuse to comply when you might see yourself freed from this damnable tower? The rumor mill has it that you refuse to bed one of the ladies of the court. Do you deny that to be the truth of it?”

  Killian could feel his eyes burn with fury and his body go rigid at the guard’s insistence of discussing the ludicrous and objectionable subject. He willed himself to remain silent as he stared down the corridors in both directions observing the length and the turns as far as his eyes could see.

  “It’s been said you were willing to battle and kill no less than a dozen Englishmen by the king’s order, but you’ll not take one English lady to your bed to appease the king? You Irishmen are an odd lot by any measure I know.”

  “I am no longer willing to bend to his will regardless of what absurd demands he might make this day or any other. For sure if this deed was done, another perhaps even more ludicrous, undesired request would come to his demented mind,” Killian blared in reply.

  “You risk much making such dangerous declarations. I might relay these traitorous insults to the king even now.”

  “I doubt it could be considered traitorous simply offering my opinion when this is not my country and he is most certainly not my king. And do you or any other of his guards or his advisors truly believe he is entirely able-minded any longer? I have seen how nearly everyone fears the man. Most lie in wait of what madness he might next embark upon. I would suggest he has caused much unrest for all of England ever since his split from the church.”

  “You’re entirely correct in that statement, but even an Englishman born and bred wouldn’t dare to openly make such ill-favored remarks without punishment. You’d be wise to keep those opinions entirely to yourself for it’s difficult to know who truly sides with the king, and who would just as soon see him meet his end straightaway.”

  “Aye, well I doubt you seem the type of man who would scurry off to the king with a few bitter words of an inconsequential Irish prisoner.”

  “I might receive a fine reward for such notification. I would not be the first who benefitted from taking snippets of information to the king for all of us must abide by his word in order to ensure we don’t meet a cruel end. We have no choice if we wish to keep our families fed and out of harm’s way. And I think you not inconsequential in any manner else you’d have lost your head on the block those weeks ago for killing one of the king’s finest guards. He was a man I had known all my life.”

  “I am regretful of taking the man’s life, and sorry I am it was someone known to you, but it was his life or mine and saving one’s own neck is the strongest inducement in taking another life.”

  “I agree with you, for I’ve been made to kill men by order of the king and others in defense of my own life. The latter is much easier to justify. I did know the man you killed my whole life and he may have been a worthy guard and knew much of the way of the sword, but it might give you some comfort or relieve your guilt in some manner to know he was a far cry from a man of respect. I never cared so much for him, for I wager he would have slit his own mother’s throat for nothing more than to catch the king’s attention.”

  “Ah, I’ve known less than honorable men such as him myself. I see your reasoning and perhaps I can rest easier having ended his life then, if you, a man of fine character did not much approve of him.”

  “How is it you believe me to be of fine character? We’ve not spoken but a handful of words to one another all these weeks.”

  “A man doesn’t need to speak to convey his character. Your lack of cruelty to me tells me much of your integrity. You do what is required of you, but not with the brutality I have witnessed much in this country as well as my own.”

  The guard actually grinned at this statement and his demeanor changed, he became immediately more at ease as he spoke to Killian.

  “I think we might be of quite similar mindsets given different circumstances. You’re a man to be respected, that’s plain, but I think you’re a man who is much admired as well. Because of that, I feel the need to offer you some wisdom having been at this post all these many years. Just do what the king asks of you, for I’m inclined to believe he favors you. Bed the woman if that’s what will appease him and rectify any previous insult. I can think of far less desirable deeds forced upon a man. It’s not as though any of the ladies in the court are aged or hideous to look upon. Both the late queen and the new queen were once ladies of the court. You might have opportunity to have relations with a future queen of England,” he chuckled. “Just bed the woman and be done with it.”

  “Aye, you’re not the first to suggest just that, but I don’t take kindly to being forced to do anything...no matter the deed. I won’t take a woman by his order. To comply would surely only be seen as a weakness. It would simply appease his need and ability to control a man. Eventually he would order another deed done, and surely soon another until he would fall upon something he knows I could never ever agree to.”

  “Then you’re sure to meet your end one way or another, perhaps as an old man seeing nothing but the inside of this tower, spending your days and years staring at these stone walls. I’ve seen it before. That would certainly drive any man to madness, and should the king’s patience be tested too readily or his mood become more ill-tempered in your regard, he will surely send you to the block simply for entertainment no matter that you have temporarily found much partiality with him.”

  Though Killian did not respond, the other man continued on speaking.

  “I tell you straight, not all who are held within this tower have been given such an ample chamber or seen food with such flavor or regularity. This level is reserved for those who are either of noble birth or favored by the king. The former queen was held just down the corridor before she met her untimely ill-fate.”

  “I suppose he could hardly create another church in order to divorce another wife to ensure he could take yet another.”

  “No, there’s already much division and dissention between the countrymen, noble and peasant alike, and great calamity within the churches.”

  The guard shook his head and Killian listened to him speaking all the while surveying the door, the lock, the man and his sword, desiring greatly to be capable of finding a way to improve his situation without risk of worsening his fate. Even though the guard appeared affable enough, and he felt he was winning him over in some regard, that he was perhaps even empathetic of his lot, he reasoned trust would take much longer. Getting to know the man was surely the best consideration. Alainn often boasted of his ability to sway a man’s mind regarding nearly any subject. He was certainly no longer desirous of attempting to overtake the guard for even if he could manage to render the man helpless, and he actually made his way out of the tower there were bound to be many more guards at each exit and he knew there were dozens at the gate. Once they learned a prisoner had escaped from the tower the whole city would be swarming with guards and soldiers.

  It was clear the king would never allow him to simply go unpunished should he actually escape. There would truly be nowhere for him to run or hide. King Henry would be relentless in that he was certain, he’d perhaps even send soldiers to Ireland to scour the land for him and seek vengeance for severely riling him and making him appear a fool. He knew he could never bring that malice upon his kin and his clan, and certainly not to Alainn. So befriending or rewarding the guard was perhaps his only hope of speaking with the other chieftains and seeking a means to see him gain informat
ion, and perhaps sometime soon see himself set free.

  “If you could find a way to have one of the Irish chieftains brought here to see me or allow me time from this chamber only long enough to speak with them, I give you my word I would return.”

  “Return to the tower once you’ve had a taste of freedom?” the man jeered. “Although I’d be inclined to think you a man of your word, and you might even believe you’d return, might even fully intend to, it’s doubtful anyone would choose to return once released from these walls. Now very few have ever been released at any rate, and I am of the belief death would be more desirable than possibly returning to spend endless years in this tower prison.”

  “To keep your family safe and fed you have admitted you must obey your king’s every demand. To the same end I would not endanger my kin or my clan by being ever gone from this tower when the king expects me to remain.”

  “And what is in it for me, should I risk seeing to this meeting one way or another?”

  “My clan has coin a plenty. They would see you justly rewarded, I assure you.”

  The man, who was nearly as tall as Killian, and perhaps only a few years older, leaned closer to the bars and stared into Killian’s eyes as if assessing the truth and sincerity of his words.

  “I am a man of my word!” Killian declared in sensing the guard’s indecision.

  “So you’re thinking to bribe me then? You’d see me there on the block beside you, leaving my family killed as well or at the very least begging in the street for a crust of bread should it be discovered I assisted you in even the slightest regard?”