“I need to feel your body within me now, Killian,” she whispered as she kissed his ear and neck.
He simply moaned in response and positioned himself above her and then thrust himself within her and claimed her. She cried out in delight as they moved together and she arched her hips to meet his thrusts. Their eyes locked as she felt the waves of ecstasy soon overtake her. He smiled as she called out and clutched his hips driving him deeper within her.
He effortlessly lifted her so that he was lying beneath her and she cooed as she rode above him. His hands firmly grasped her breasts and he gently rolled her nipples between his finger and his thumb and she gasped as she felt another wave wash over her.
When he moved once more and placed her on her hands and knees with him behind her, his thrusts became deeper and more rapid and she cried out with the intensity of his movements. Her entire body began to tremble in response to the intense pleasure she was experiencing and when she felt Killian cede to his release, they collapsed on the ground together nearly breathless. He grinned at her as he waited for his ragged breaths to slow. He gently caressed her hips as she lay her head on his chest.
“I think we should not move from this place for at least a day or two, Lainna.”
“Aye, I would be most content to simply lie in your arms and have you love me for days on end.”
They lie there together contentedly holding one another for a time, neither one of them speaking. He glanced up at the horses that were peacefully grazing nearby and then at the sun’s position.
“Well if my estimation is correct, Danhoul will soon need to stop moving forward or he will experience that damnable pain in his head.”
“Aye,” she sighed in resignation, but she made no attempt to move. The lovemaking had offered a much appreciated distraction to take her mind from straying back to Margaret and her certain despair. But now they must get on their way so they would reach the castle before full darkness. Killian stood and gently pulled her to her feet where they straightened and repositioned their garments and soon mounted their horses and were about to continue on their way.
“You mentioned you wished to speak to me, Alainn. Perhaps before we set off while we are here alone, now would be an opportune time.”
Alainn inhaled deeply not having anticipated Killian asking her to speak of it now, and feeling unprepared although she’d gone over it in her mind a thousand times and surely in as many ways. She felt there would surely never be an opportune time to discuss what must be said, especially now that they were growing close once more. But if it wasn’t revealed there would surely always be a wedge between them. She sighed, took a deep breath and was about to speak when she heard Danhoul’s concerned thoughts come to her when it had been some time since he had been able to speak with her through telepathy.
“Have you sensed that the captain is ill? He is developing a most persistent cough and by the look of him, I would suggest he is filled with fever. Though it is doubtful he would ever admit to possessing anything less than robust health, I believe he is ailing.”
“I didn’t sense it, but my mind has been ever on Margaret. Have him stop for a time, Danhoul. We will catch up with you soon enough. You might see if he will allow you to determine if he is fevered, if not I’ll insist when I get to him.”
“Aye, I’ll see it done.”
“What is it Alainn?” Killian asked as he must have noticed her face had grown pale for she felt the color drain from her cheeks. “We needn’t speak on anything that might pain you to do so,” he assured her.
“No, it isn’t that, Killian. I’ve just heard a message from Danhoul. We must make haste for he believes Mac has fallen ill.”
“I hadn’t noticed him faring poorly. And he sat beside me this very morning when we broke fast,” Killian said as he lifted her upon her horse, Cailieg, and he mounted Storm as well.
“I didn’t notice either, but I admit I was much preoccupied with Margaret’s ailments and with being regretful we would need to soon say farewell.”
“We’ll let the horses gallop at full speed then, Alainn, for it’s been a time since we have done so.”
She smiled but soon fell back to her fretful thoughts regarding Mac for she knew Danhoul was not one to exaggerate a condition without a sturdy reason.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alainn placed her hand to Killian’s forehead which had become commonplace each and every time she saw him. She seemed to need to assure herself he hadn’t yet fallen prey to the dreaded fever that had overtaken nearly half of Ireland.
They’d had word that numerous areas of the country were faring poorly. Rory had sent a messenger from Castle O’Brien to alert them many there had fallen ill as well, and not a few had already died.
Alainn questioned Killian as she pulled her hand from his forehead in relief in sensing he remained cool to the touch and without fever.
“How are my grandfather and Riley?”
“Their fever remains, but it hasn’t worsened. How fare Mac and Cookson and Lily?”
“Lily has shown some improvement in taking the many remedies I have given her for pain and fever, but Mac and Cookson have not only received no relief from the remedies, but have taken a turn for the worse. I am most fearful they may not live through this, Killian.”
He immediately took her in his arms and held on tightly, clearly wishing he could do something to ease her worry and her fears.
“You’re weary, Alainn. I can see it plain enough. You’ve had little sleep in the past half moon. You’ll be no good to anyone if you should become ill and can’t offer your healing ways to those in need. Sure, the only reason Mac and Cookson still live is because you’ve barely left their sides in nearly a fortnight.”
“What of Mary and Conner? They still have no symptoms?” She seemingly ignored his concerns.
“No, Mary remains in the tower as you suggested. It was wise to keep her distanced from the others who are ill. Conner has been staying in the stables mostly, but he hunts for food for himself and Mary. He sees to it she has food and fresh water daily, as you insisted.”
Danhoul came toward them with a grim expression on his face.
“There have been seven more cases reported this week at Castle McCafferty, and three more deaths. And...” He stopped mid-sentence and worriedly looked at Alainn.
“What is it Danhoul?”
“We’ve had word that both Cormac and Maire O’Donnel died this very morning.”
Alainn lowered herself to the nearby chair, deeply saddened by this. Although at one time she would never have believed she would feel such deep grief at her passing, she knew she would miss Maire. The woman whom she had once thought of a mean-spirited gossipmonger had turned out to be a misunderstood, unloved woman, who had come to be her friend. They had been spending considerable time together so that Maire could learn the ways of using herbs for healing, and she had appeared to be naturally proficient in the craft.
As they sat together in the kitchen despairing over the far reaching level of the sickness, the steward’s wife and Alainn’s friend, Eireen came into the room weeping. “Fergus is worse Alainn, and wee Kale is now fevered.”
Alainn placed her hand to the woman’s head and a worrisome expression crossed her face.
“You’re well fevered also, Eireen. Go now and take Kale to the chamber across from where Cookson and Mac are resting. I will be better capable of checking on all of you if you are nearby. Danhoul and Killian, I fear more beds will be needed.”
After Eireen had left to do as Alainn had instructed, Killian took her arm and gently sat her down upon the chair once more. He knelt beside her and stared into her eyes.
“What will we do if you should fall ill? What will I do should you fall ill, my Lainna?”
“You know how seldom I have ever been ill throughout the years, Killian. My magic often keeps me warded from illness and disease. Besides, I have not been alone in dealing with the many who have fallen ill. Danhoul has been most hel
pful in the healing and tending to the maladies of the gravely ill. As have you, Killian. You have been an immense asset to dealing with the many souls who have contracted the disturbing illness. But my greatest worry is that you might soon become ill and then my mind would not be on anyone but you. As you know Eireen, too, has been tirelessly aiding those with the sickness, but now she has become ill herself.”
Killian tenderly caressed a long strand of hair that had fallen before her eyes, and he pushed it behind her ear lovingly as she continued to speak.
“I have been hoping to employ my magic to end this dreaded sickness, but so far it has been to no avail. I tried to place a charm on the castle and the village, but I seemed unable to manage that great feat. I have uttered individual protection charms for you and Danhoul, and so far they seem to have held, but it did little for Grandfather when I did so for him. Perhaps because of his age and his previously failing health it was less effective...but I am uncertain why Mac and Cookson fell ill so quickly for both appeared to be in sturdy health. I have dwelled upon this for a lengthy time, but there appears to be no determining who will fall ill and succumb to the illness or who will ably recover.”
“Some illnesses have no set course and cannot be accurately predicted,” Danhoul insisted from across the room as he lifted a pot of boiling water from the hearth. “Not even in the future where much more pertinent information is known about ensuring health, the cause of disease and how to remedy it.”
Danhoul almost never spoke of his time in the future, in truth he avoided any mention of the fact he had ever traveled to the future, but since the onset of this illness he had alluded to the future on more than one occasion.
“What is this horrid sickness, Danhoul?”
“I suspect it is what will one day be known as influenza and it is something that will take its toll throughout history, for centuries to come.”
“So what is it we can do to abate it or to ensure the best possible outcome?”
“Simply continue to do what you have already instinctively been doing, Alainn. Keep the infected separated from those who have not yet fallen ill. This sickness appears to travel through the air when those infected cough and sneeze. So keeping them away from others is the best course of action. Wash the bowls, cups, and spoons with boiling water. Burn the rags used to wipe their noses, and mouths. It seems to be a most potent form of contagion. We must make certain the infected drink clean water and thin broths, and that they are allowed to sufficiently rest. And do not pile the bedclothes upon them for that, as you are aware, is a grave mistake made far too often.”
Killian’s eyes met hers and they both recalled the vivid memory of her burning up from child bed fever and by instinct he had taken her and held her within the frigid waters of the icy pond. Her fever had broken and he had surely saved her life.
“I wouldn’t suggest attempting anything that drastic for that might just as easily have stopped your heart,” Danhoul declared, having capably heard both their thoughts. “But placing cool cloths held to the brow and the pulse points have been known to capably lower a fever.”
“Aye. Sometimes cool compresses of herbal remedies are capable of reducing a fever as well. It has been beneficial with Lily. I am pleased her fever seems to be receding and this morning she asked to see Cookson.”
Alainn was startled when she heard the sudden loud disturbing fit of coughing, and she quickly made her way up the steps to the chamber where Cookson and Mac now lie in beds opposite each other.
Cookson was coughing so forcefully he had turned bright red, and even his eyes had grown blood red with the intensity of the coughing. Alainn noticed the deep coughs wracked his entire body. He fought to catch his breath and soon began gagging and spewing in earnest. She placed her hand on his back in attempt to magically heal and calm the disturbingly deep spasms, and they seemed to be easing. When she touched his back she noticed how unrelentingly his fever raged on. She wiped his mouth and attempted to have him take sips of cool water laced with an herbal remedy to ease the fever. She saw Lily enter the room. The deep concern in her amber eyes was evident and heartbreaking, but not nearly as much as her words.
“Please save him, Alainn. You must promise to heal my sweet Cookson, for I cannot bear the thought of losing another who is so dear to me. I shouldn’t care to live myself if I should lose another person whom I love.”
That was without a doubt the most Alainn had ever heard the young girl speak at one time, and her tears fell down her pale face as she spoke. And as she did so, she too, began to cough again.
“I promise to do whatever I am able to ensure Cookson returns to good health. If there is a way to see him well, I shall endeavor to do it through whatever means I am able,” she whispered to the distraught young girl.
Alainn thought Lily might faint for the already thin young girl had grown noticeably frailer in the past week. She helped her back to her bed, and as Killian followed her he watched on with a disturbed expression.
“Might we move Mac closer to the window and bring another bed in here for Lily, sure she and Cookson would both fare better being closer to the other?”
Alainn nodded at the possibility and at Killian’s thoughtful nature.
“If I was ill and ailing I’d not care to be parted from you, Lainna,” he proclaimed.
“Nor, I you, my love.”
Lily seemed much relieved at that suggestion as well and when she was actually lying on the bed next to Cookson’s bed, she gently took his hand and Alainn noticed he grew much less agitated, his breathing became less labored and they both soon fell into a much needed sleep.
Alainn smiled at the two young people and their obvious love for one another, but as she walked nearer to Mac’s bed, she was startled to hear that his breathing was much more shallow and raspy.
“Should we send for Pierce, Killian?” she whispered.
He seemed reluctant to share the information, but he did so now.
“That won’t be possible Alainn for the messenger who arrived from Castle O’Brien this day sent word from Rory, and upon it was the list of names of all those who have been stricken by the illness. Pierce was on the list, along with both Cook and Margaret, Uncle Hugh, as well as Uncle Sean’s wife Iona, and so many others from the village. Upon your recommendation, Rory took Brigid and his mother to the round tower near their castle as well, to keep them protected from this scourge while they carry their unborn children.”
Alainn’s eyes clouded with deep concern and she diligently began to pray as she hadn’t done in some time. Would Pierce die and Mac live; was that why she had felt such a strong sense they wouldn’t see one another again? And how could Margaret hope to survive this illness when her heart was already perilously weakened and her time to birth her child was near? What if the Kilkennys should both die and Pierce as well, how would Molly deal with such loss and manage to keep the entire lot of children together with no one to provide for them? The many disturbing thoughts seemed to fill her mind entirely and overwhelm her. Alainn felt herself growing dizzy and all around her grew black, and she fell into Killian’s arms.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“It is not the fever!” Alainn insisted while a deeply fearful Killian sat on the edge of their bed holding tight to her hand.
“It is not the damnable fever!” Danhoul agreed in an uncommonly impatient manner. Killian ignored Danhoul’s abrupt tone and simply breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Then what?” Killian insisted on knowing.
Danhoul glanced briefly at Alainn as though attempting to hear her thoughts, or perhaps prevent her from hearing his.
“Exhaustion...lack of sleep...eating too little...feeling entirely responsible for the lives of many...being in a state of constant fretfulness and fearful for all around her,” Danhoul finally deduced aloud.
“Then you must rest, Alainn, and I will go to the kitchen and see to it you are brought sustenance,” Killian urged with vexation in his eyes.
“I was actually thinking I must surely go to Castle O’Brien straightaway to see what I might do for those there who are infected.”
“And what of those here who remain ill, the people you have attended so diligently? You were already feelin’ guilt in not being able to make it to Castle O’Rorke today to see to your grandfather. You are only one woman, a magical healing woman ’tis true, but even you cannot be in three places at one time! And should you attempt to keep up this grueling pace, you’ll soon fall ill yourself.”
“Listen to your husband for his words contain much wisdom.”
Alainn sighed deeply and stared intently first at Killian and then Danhoul.
“What if I employed my magic to be taken to Castle O’Brien, just for a short time? Danhoul could tend to the people here who are ill, and you, Killian, could go see to Grandfather and Riley for you now know as well as we do what remedies must be given and what must be done for those who are ailing.”
Killian shook his head in disagreement of her intended scheme, and Danhoul appeared to side with him.
“And how do you purpose I attend to those here who are ailing when I am sure to feel as though my head is filled with thunder, and my stomach is wretchedly putrid in being parted from you?” Danhoul questioned with some brusqueness.
“Allow me to go to see how Margaret fares. I’ll return directly, surely within an hour or two at most.”
“And how will you manage to pull yourself away if you find Margaret ailing and poorly or if either Cook or Pierce is found to be in a bad way?” Killian asked. “Or if you should perhaps discover Molly has become ill?”
“Has she?” Alainn asked in an anguish-filled voice at that grim possibility.
“Not that we are aware of, Alainn,” Killian assured her. “But tell me plain, if Margaret was to decide between you journeying to Castle O’Brien to perhaps save her, or you remaining here and healing her son Cookson, what do you believe she would choose?”
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