“Sae Donnchadh’s contaminants are overtakin’ meh,” I finished tersely.
“Donnchadh!” she said with a laugh, waving an unconcerned hand in my direction. “Am I to understand, then, that you are still too weak to control him?” She shook her head as she clicked her tongue against her front teeth. “Even after all this time?”
“Ah wouldnae call it weakness, lass,” I replied with a frown. “Boot Ah would call yer visit today … fortuitous all the same.”
“For me,” she nearly interrupted me. “As to you and that unruly spirit living within you, I do not care whether he possesses you completely.” Then she shrugged. “I should imagine his company would certainly be … more interesting.”
I smiled and nodded even though she had no idea what she was saying. “Aye. Mayhap ye would.”
She was quiet as she studied me for the next few seconds. “I do not enjoy this,” she said at last, her voice hollow.
I cocked my head to the side and smiled. “Ye dinnae enjoy it?” I repeated with a chuckle. “Ye arenae the one bein’ bled! Ah promise ye, Ah enjoy it far less!”
“I was not referring to that!” she nearly spat at me. Then the scowl on her face softened. “I was talking about this,” she said as she pointed from herself to me and back to herself again. “I do not enjoy harboring so much … hatred for you. That harsh feeling is so alien to me.”
I nodded. “Then dinnae harbor it.”
“Were it so simple,” she said wistfully. “But you have brought me to this place,” she continued, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me. “You have brought me to a place I was never meant to go.” I didn’t respond, so she continued. “You and I were supposed to love each other. Forever.”
“Eternities change,” I replied. I was not intending for my voice to sound so icy, but there was only so much I could restrain.
“Your plans changed,” she argued as she approached me, holding the blade out in front of her as if to threaten me with it. When she was close enough, she slammed the blade beneath my chin, forcing my head upward and into an uncomfortable position. Then she held her wrist there, making me look in her eyes.
“Ye forced mah hand,” I whispered as I glared at her. “Ye left meh with nae choice.”
“You should have defended me,” she chastised me as she shook her head. “You should have defended your queen! Instead, you slaughtered me just as easily as if I were livestock, a suckling pig, dressed and ready to be roasted on a spit.”
“’Twas nae mah fault ye became the consort o’ Alaire,” I rebutted, the fires of indignation kindling inside me.
“Yes, you were always jealous of Alaire, weren’t you?” she asked, and a lascivious smile spread across her face. “Your single mistake was trusting him.”
“Nae,” I said as I shook my head. “That was the one mistake ye made. Ah never troosted him, nor anyone else fer that matter.”
“And perhaps therein lies your problem, bladesmith,” she snapped. She pulled the blade from underneath my chin, but didn’t back away. “You never truly trusted me either. That meant you never truly loved me.”
“Mayhap,” I answered succinctly. “Boot Ah have never been ah man that troosts easily.”
“I am well aware of that,” she answered, her eyebrows drawn. “I always knew your love was fleeting, and perhaps even nonexistent,” she finished. I could see her lips pursing with pent-up anger. “I knew, but I could never fully admit it to myself,” she sighed heavily. “That was the reason I turned to Alaire.”
“We dinnae need tae have this conversation,” I interrupted, suddenly tiring of the subject matter.
“We do,” she insisted. “We should have had this conversation a long time ago.” Then she shook her head and sighed again. “Perhaps if we had, things would have turned out differently.”
“Ah forgive ye fer yer dealins with Alaire,” I said, despite how far from the truth it was. But I could sense a weakness in her. It was the only chink in her armor that I detected so far, hence, I had to further indulge it. “An’ Ah forgive ye fer attemptin’ tae take mah life.”
“I never wanted him the way I wanted you,” she confessed as she dropped down to her knees before sidling up against me. I found it interesting and amusing even that she insisted on ignoring the part where she had plunged a blade into my chest, moments before I had ended her life.
She held the blade of the knife up to my cheek and traced the jagged line of my scar. “But I knew you would never love me the way I wanted you to.”
“Ah did luv ye,” I retorted. Much as it pained me to lie to her, because she was my enemy, I could see no other alternative. As to the truth, there had been a time when I was fond of Persephone. Of course, that was long before she allowed her greed and envy to become her undoing.
“How dare you have the audacity to lie to me!” she said as she pulled away and glared at me angrily.
I shook my head. “Ah make it mah business tae be ah man o’ my word.” Neither one of us said anything for the span of a few seconds. I was the first to speak again. “Aye, Ah luved ye.”
“Then why?” she started as she shook her head and appeared to be uncomfortable.
“Ah had nae other choice,” I answered. “Yer greed an’ hoonger fer power were roonin’ away with ye. Ye were nae longer the sweet, innocent lass ye once were. Ye were nae longer the woman Ah fell in luv with. Ye were corroopted, and when ye chanced tae take mah life, mah only option was tae take yers.”
A memory of the first time I had ever seen Persephone entered my head like a bomb. I could recall the fairness of her skin, her light blue eyes and the platinum blonde ringlets she wore piled high atop her head. She had been fashionably attired for the time in a blue and white plaid frock with billowing, wide skirts that grazed the ground when she walked. I could recall the graceful line of her décolletage and the ample neckline of her gown, considered brazen for the time.
She worked as an emissary for Afterlife Enterprises, and her sole mission was to report on my comings and goings. She was a spy of sorts, but not a covert one. Of course, I immediately became captivated by her and her coy innocence. I found myself looking forward to her unannounced visits. Soon afterwards, the anticipation turned into an irresistible yearning.
It came somewhat as a surprise when she admitted how much she looked forward to our witty exchanges just as much as I did. In no time at all, she was visiting me monthly, and then weekly. Her appointments were no longer sanctioned by Afterlife Enterprises. They became clandestine visits in which I would dispatch my most trusted henchman, Alaire, to meet Persephone at the gates of the Underground City. This was to ensure her safe arrival to my kingdom, the same kingdom in which I now sat, rotting.
Being so taken with the coquette, it was simply a matter of days before I invited her to become my queen and rule the Underground City alongside me. Of course, she was very happy to accept my offer. I never knew if her poisonous greed already existed inside her, or if, like an illness, it developed over time, eventually taking root inside her heart and spreading its black tentacles until it tainted her entire being.
As I gazed upon her now, I decided it mattered not.
“Then my affair with Alaire was not the reason you stopped loving me?” she asked as her back stiffened and I feared I had gone too far.
“Aye!” I said as I shook my head, looking at her like she had lost her mind. “O’ course, it had everythin’ tae dae with it!” I leaned forward, trying to extinguish the pain in my shoulders caused by my arms being pinned behind my back. “Yer dealins with Alaire broke meh,” I finished in a soft voice. I was no longer playing a part. I was now fully reliving everything that happened between Persephone and me. I could not look at her.
“You were so cold, you turned on me,” she started, shaking her head. “Alaire was the only one who told me how beautiful and capable I was. He was the only one who reminded me I was a queen, and very powerful.”
“He was mah lead counsel man,” I started to argue. When I fi
nally brought my attention to her face, I found myself staring into the empty void of her eyes. “There was nae one closer tae meh than he,” I hissed before taking a deep breath as the unhappy memories returned anew.
“I never loved him,” she stated as she shook her head. The pain in her eyes was nearly palpable.
“Yer body luved him an’ that was enough fer meh,” I answered, dropping my eyes to the cold stone floor. “Once Ah learned o’ yer affair, Ah had tae face the truth aboot my leadership an’ mah kingdom. Ah had tae choose ’atween mah queen an’ my rightful place as ruler o’ the Oonderground City.”
“And you chose the city over me,” she finished in a small voice.
I nodded. “By that time, ye were already lost tae meh.”
She did not reply for the span of a few seconds, but the pain in her countenance was raw. When she glanced up at me again, something passed in her eyes. She was no longer a wounded woman. Her strength had returned, and along with it, her anger.
“No more reminiscing,” she started, her lips tightening. “Let’s get on with it,” she finished as she held the blade up.
FOUR
“What is that?” Persephone demanded as she looked upon the wound she had just inflicted on my right pectoral with obvious distaste.
“Donnchadh’s contaminants,” I replied, my lips tightening. Having not bled myself in so long, the sludge that bubbled from the slice of her blade hurt like a bloody bastard.
“Revolting,” she continued with a frown before turning away.
“Ye moost continue tae coot meh,” I said between deep breaths. The pain was no longer centered only on the area around the wound. It began radiating outward, seeping into every crevice of my body and burning like fire.
“Why?”
“Ye cannae drink frae meh oontil ye cleanse mah bluid,” I answered between clenched teeth. Digging my fingernails into my palms, I added, “An’ the only way tae cleanse mah bluid is tae allow meh tae bleed more.”
She nodded and leaned forward again, creating another slice with the sharp blade directly above the previous one. The burn became a searing jolt that jerked through my chest before burying itself in the back of my head. I inhaled sharply and suddenly felt wobbly, as if I could pass out right there. I had no doubt my feebleness was due to my unreliable diet. I was malnourished, weak.
“Wait,” I said when she made a motion to cut me again. “Ye moost squeeze the filth oot first,” I finished, clenching my eyes shut tight against the agony growing inside me. Of course, I was already aware that she was not bleeding me in the proper location. Donnchadh’s poison emanated from the center of my back. It originated at the radius of the tattoo that spanned my shoulders and tapered down to my waist. But since she had already cut me, I figured she might as well cleanse the wound.
Persephone took a deep breath and dropped the blade behind her, carefully placing it beyond my reach. Then she leaned forward and set her hands on either side of the first incision she made. She squeezed, and almost at once, the dark sludge burst forward, oozing like a landslide of black mud.
“Ugh, repulsive,” she said before pulling away again and shaking her head, her hands and lower arms saturated with the vile goo.
“Keep goin’!” I reprimanded her. She leaned forward again and continued to squeeze her hands together.
“I cannot do this,” she protested, while adamantly shaking her head.
“Squeeze harder!” I insisted, needing nothing more than to cleanse myself of Donnchadh’s loathsome impurities.
Persephone did not respond but did as I ordered. I closed my eyes as the filth exited the wound. Even though the pain was excruciating, the relief at finally releasing Donnchadh’s toxins exhilarated me; it filled me with nothing less than encouragement.
“Your blood is running red now,” she announced between breaths.
“Go oan tae the next,” I answered. When I opened my eyes and focused on her, I found it difficult to speak.
She nodded and moved to the incision above the one she just emptied. Placing her hands on either side of the wound, she squeezed her fingers together. Moments later, she stopped. “This cut must be too close to the other one. None of that dark stuff is coming out of it.”
I nodded. “Ye need tae bleed meh oan mah back,” I said. “The true depth o’ Donnchadh’s bile is concentrated in the lines o’ the tattoo oan mah back.” His corruption and greed penetrated every branch and root of the tree that stenciled my back with its black ink.
“I cannot reach your back, as it is up against the wall,” Persephone said, her frown indicative of her defiance. “But you already knew that.”
“’Tis the only way,” I snapped furtively. “If ye dinnae bleed meh oan mah back, an’ more specifically, oan mah tattoo, ye willnae reduce Donnchadh’s pollutants an’ ye willnae be able tae drink frae meh.”
“Then why did I just empty the contaminants from the wounds I made?”
“Ah figured ye made them sae ye might as well clean them oop,” I answered with no amount of apology.
“So there is no way I can bleed you from your front side?” she asked as she eyed me narrowly.
“Mayhap; boot Ah soospect the sheer noomber o’ coots ye would have tae make would leave me as naethin’ more than a bloody pulp by the time ye were finished.”
“I do not understand,” she started as she shook her head.
“Ye dinnae need tae oonderstand,” I retorted, my anger burning inside me. I was not certain if it was caused by my own impatience, or I was simply sensing Donnchadh’s anger. Of course, I was not the only one to feel the sting of the blade. Donnchadh felt it just as surely as I did. And he was well aware of what it meant.
“If you want me to actually consider what you are asking, then you must first explain to me the reasons why I must bleed you from your back,” Persephone said angrily. Her lofty expression suggested she was the one who held the power. Not I.
“Ye dinnae remember then?” I asked as I studied her. I was surprised by this fact.
“I admit I do not remember,” she answered before inhaling deeply. “I am not certain if my memory fails me, or if you were always so secretive about this part of yourself.”
She had a good point. I never discussed my association with Donnchadh as I did not believe it anyone’s business but my own. “This kingdom is built oan the same longitudinal line as the tree Ah feed,” I started.
“The tree on your back?” she asked, looking perplexed.
“Nae,” I responded as I shook my head, slightly irritated at her interruption. “The tree oan mah back merely represents the real thin’. An’ the real thin’ exists in the Dark Wood.”
“Okay, carry on.”
“If Ah dinnae feed the tree with mah bluid, the contaminants back oop an’ Donnchadh’s power grows oontil Ah cannae control him an’ he takes over mah body.”
“What does Donnchadh have to do with the real tree? The one in the Dark Wood?” she asked, shaking her head as she studied me with a suspicious look that belonged only to her.
“Donnchadh is the reason the tree exists,” I started. I had to decide whether or not I wanted Persephone to know the rest of the story. Furthermore, if Lily were still alive inside Persephone, did I want her to know this information too?
“Explain.”
I decided to tell the truth. I could have made up a tale, of course, but right then, I did not have the patience nor the stamina of mind to concoct something that sounded even slightly believable. Furthermore, if Lily could manage to hold on, I wanted her to understand this side of me. My telling Persephone this was not strictly for her benefit. It was for Lily’s. As far as Persephone was concerned, I was determined to find a way to force her spirit out of Lily’s body and return it to the diamond and glass crown in which it had lived for more than a century. And my Druid intuition told me that the only way to accomplish that task was through my blood.
“’Twas near two thousand years ago,” I started, but soon found I
could not look Persephone, or more pointedly, Lily, in the eyes. I dropped my gaze to my lap as I continued. “The Romans were attemptin’ tae conquer Scotland which, at that time, was called Alba. Boot this feat was nae accomplished sae easily. The problem was the tribes. We wouldnae soobmit tae the Romans. In order tae beat the Romans at their own game, Ah willingly possessed mahself with the spirit o’ Donnchadh. ’Twas the only way I imagined I could oppose the Roman threat.”
“A noble choice,” Persephone offered.
I did not bother looking at her. “Aye; boot Ah misread the strength o’ the Romans. They were calculatin’ and cunnin’ in their attacks. They saw mah strength an’ mah speed an’ they knew Ah would be ah valuable asset in their fight against the clans of Alba. As I belonged tae one o’ the biggest o’ the clans, the Votadini tribe, an’ mah ooncle was Chieftain, the Romans wanted meh oonder their control.”
“I remember,” she started as she eyed me narrowly. “I remember you telling me you were the Chieftain of the Votadini?”
“Aye, fer ah short time Ah was,” I admitted with a brief nod. “An’ Donnchadh was the reason. The strength provided by Donnchadh’s spirit attracted the Romans tae meh. They realized the only way they could attain Votadini land was tae convince meh tae work with them, nae against them. They offered meh the Votadini kingdom. All Ah had tae dae in return was allow them tae slaughter mah kinfolk; which Ah did.”
“What?! You betrayed your own people?” Persephone asked with a shocked expression that later turned into a smile. “No wonder you were later appointed the position as Master of the Underground City.”
“Aye, Ah betrayed mah oon clan,” I answered tersely.
“But what does the tree have to do with any of this?” Persephone asked, her smile no longer resident.
I exhaled slowly. This was the part of the story that Lily did not know yet. I was uncomfortable. In general, I am not a man who parts with any personal information easily. “Shortly after the Romans massacred mah kinsmen, they soon made their attempts on meh oon life.”
lily harper 04.5 - the bladesmith Page 3
