Perhaps she and Molly would have time alone so Molly might elaborate further on the happenings with Pierce and herself. Sure Alainn might offer to assist the other women in occupying the children or in preparing the evening meal.
She wondered briefly if Pierce had a purposeful intent on insisting his father come to speak with Cook and Margaret. Had his intentions toward Molly become so serious he was possibly planning a proposal of marriage? She didn’t attempt to use her powers of perception to discover the answer. If it were to be so she would much rather hear the joyful news from Molly, herself. She smiled at the pleasing prospect.
Deep in thought, while walking on the pathway near the stone wall that surrounded the village, Alainn heard the sound of children crying. When she listened more intently she noticed they were not simply crying, but wailing and not only in dismay, but in fear and in obvious pain. She hurried to peer through the bushes from where the sounds came. She was startled to see the chieftain’s old priest earnestly beating two small boys. She recognized the two young lads as the blacksmith’s sons. They were perhaps four and five years of age and she couldn’t begin to imagine what they might have done to cause the priest to be assaulting them so viciously.
“So much for avoiding the priest!” She resignedly thought to herself.
She called out to the man, but so enraged and intent on his task was he; he did not appear to hear her over the wails of the children. He was brandishing his walking stick as his manner of discipline and Alainn finally loudly screamed to get his attention.
“Stay away from me, Maiden McCreary! This is none of your concern!”
She was further stunned to see him continue hitting at the boys unrelentingly.
“Stop that, this instant!” She hollered and without hesitation stepped between him and the two young boys.
She didn’t stop to think that he might actually strike her, but that was exactly what he did, and with an unusual strength she would not have thought possible. He struck her across the upper arm and she winced at the immediate consuming pain. She put her other arm up to defend herself from the next blow, but this one came even harder and she thought she heard the sickening sound of the bone in her wrist snapping. She fought to control her powers and her temper.
“What could these small children possibly have done to deserve this harsh punishment?” She winced at her unrelenting pain and tried to reason with the deplorable man.
“They have spoken indecent profanities, taken the Lord God’s name in vain; they have willfully broken one of his commandments!”
Alainn backed away from the man, but tried to keep herself between him and the children who were still wailing noisily and painfully. She partially turned to take a look at what damage had been done to them and saw that their backs were covered with huge welts and fresh bruises.
“They are only small children, Father. And have you ever heard their father speak? He cusses and curses continually. Do you not suppose they have heard that talk all their lives, and how are they to know it is wrong if the use of such language is commonplace?”
“Stay out of this; I will deal with these young sinners. You keep away from me with your interference and your evil ways?”
He started toward the children again and Alainn hastily turned to tell them to be off, to run to their father as fast as they could, when she felt the heavy stick forcefully strike her head this time. She felt herself growing dizzy and she knew she was about to lose consciousness. Her last clear thought was of her dagger within her pocket and then she slipped to the ground and into darkness.
Chapter Nineteen
When Alainn awoke, she was uncertain how much time had elapsed, but the priest had been knocked down, his walking stick was a pile of ash on the ground and she lay atop him with her dagger to his throat. He wore a terrified expression and that was what the chieftain’s guard witnessed when he happened upon them. Alainn soon found herself being carried off by two guards with the priest close behind, accusing her of any number of crimes against him and against God. She closed her eyes and prayed the searing pain in her head and her arm would soon subside, and then she disparagingly fell into a dark sleep again.
She awoke in the dungeon. Well, pitifully attempting to remain optimistic, she had wanted to get to the dungeon, but not this day, and certainly not in this condition. She could barely move her wrist and her opposite arm and shoulder ached fiercely. Her head was throbbing and the smell around her was putrid. The chamber was nearly void of light. It was cold, damp, and musty. The distinctly pungent smell of human excrement was unmistakable. She was unable to see or determine how many others shared the stone and earthen cell with her. She looked up toward the tiny sconce upon the wall and tried to will it to burn brighter, even that seemed to take all her concentration and it simply made her head hurt more fiercely.
Alainn’s thoughts went to the dark entity, the one she had once sensed within the dungeon. She used her powers of perception to determine if the creature was near. Although her head throbbed and her stomach reeled at the consideration of meeting that level of evil, especially in her wretchedly unenviable state, she wasn’t entirely certain she could count on her powers of premonition in her present damaged condition. For now, she was reasonably sure she could not detect such a vile being of darkness in her location.
She longed to weep and call out for Killian, but he would not hear her and she doubted the guards would fetch him for her. Perhaps she could convince them she needed to speak with their captain or even to Pierce; they would see to it that Killian be found. Surely his challenges would be over with by now, and he would wonder where she was. But would he? He believed she would spend the night at Cook’s cottage. They had not made arrangements to meet this day. When would she actually be missed and by whom? Only the priest and a small number of the guards knew she was here, and the other prisoners of course, but even they seemed unaware it was a woman that now shared their cell. Of that she was most grateful.
She thought of using her telepathy to call to Mara or to Danhoul to assist her, but when she did so, she felt herself growing fainter and threatening to slip into unconsciousness yet again. She reconsidered and terminated her attempts.
When she tried to move her shoulder she realized her back hurt terribly as well, the despicable old priest had surely struck her even after she had fallen unconscious and that must have been when her powers had taken over. She felt the child move inside her and the tears rolled down her cheek. He remained well. How had she allowed this to happen to her, to them? And how could an aged man in failing health possess the strength to wound her so aptly and so quickly? She had misjudged and underestimated him. Perhaps the dark cloud she’d seen around him since she was a child was a sign he possessed and retained an evil quality.
Alainn felt something scurry past her hand and she unwittingly squealed. Now, regretfully, whoever was in the near vicinity, would surely know a woman was in their presence. She was thankful to see light at the top of the winding stairwell and hear footsteps approaching. A guard had come to retrieve her. She was to be taken to the chieftain for judgment. She learned the chieftain had not been summoned earlier as he was viewing the games and had been instructed not to be disturbed until the challenges had concluded.
She was led to the weapons storage room, for at this time the Great Hall would be filled with tables for the feast that was certain to begin soon. Alainn recalled this was occasionally the area where lashings were rendered. She was pushed roughly into the partially darkened room and she cried out when the guard squeezed her damaged wrist.
“Have you not secured her?” She heard the chieftain question.
“She is wounded, milord. Her arm is most likely broken and her other shoulder also damaged.
“You issued her a severe beating, Father!”
“Aye, she well deserved it for her interference in my duties, and the sorceress tried to slice my very own throat with her dagger!”
Hugh O’Brien approached Alainn. She
did not lower her eyes from him as he expected.
“Maiden McCreary, you seem unable to keep yourself free from trouble. When last we spoke, we struck up a bargain that I am quite certain you have not fulfilled, and now you have attacked and tried to murder my priest? Are you so eager to swing from a rope? I think even the alleged granddaughter of an important chieftain could not escape entirely unscathed from this heinous crime. And that would only be if I actually believed you to be the granddaughter of a chieftain. That has yet to be proven!”
Alainn remained silent and that startled the man.
“What have you to say for yourself, girl? Why do you keep that bitter tongue still?”
“I think you will not listen to reason, and will believe nothing I say. And your priest could be found guilty of crucifying Christ himself and get off without so much as a sideways glance from you!”
The priest shuddered and gasped aloud at her startling blasphemous words and the chieftain laughed heartily.
“Now that’s more like it, Maiden McCreary! That’s surely liken to the feisty young woman I’ve come to know!” He put his hand to her cheek and she quickly turned her face from him.
“Now I wouldn’t care for anyone to think me an entirely unjust man, so tell me your version of what transpired to cause you to attack my priest!”
The priest revealed his disagreement of the woman being allowed to speak to the accusations at all, but the chieftain silenced him and urged the young woman to go on.
“I did not simply attack your priest in an unprovoked manner as he has suggested. I defended myself against him and attempted to prevent him from beating two small, defenseless children. He chose to viciously attack them for speaking profanity, yet turns a blind eye to every other abhorrent sin committed here in this castle. I doubt he’d think to act so wrathful toward the children’s large, imposing father though he consistently uses every profanity known to man and sure some he’s invented himself.”
“The priest has the right to issue punishment when he deems it necessary. That is surely not to be questioned even by you?”
“So, in truth, he wields more power than you here in your own castle?” Alainn dared to suggest.
“Not entirely!”
“Well then, look upon the bodies of the two small children he beat so willfully and tell me you wholly agree that his punishment was not harsh beyond what was necessary.”
“You’ll not tell me what I am to do, woman!” The man’s commanding voice echoed loudly off the stone walls.
She turned away from him and glanced toward the door and then up to the barred window.
“Who do you think might come to rescue you, Maiden McCreary? The man you have bewitched into believing you are his granddaughter... or my own infatuated nephew, perhaps?”
Alainn did not answer him, but she tried to swallow the sob she felt rising in her throat.
“So, Father, what punishment do you suggest would be adequate for the woman?”
“She should be hanged, milord! Of course she should be hanged for attempting to take my life!”
The chieftain considered it for a moment. “There’s never been a woman hanged at Castle O’Brien!”
“Clearly, there’s never been a woman to attempt to murder your priest before!” The priest declared emphatically.
“Aye, ’tis true.” The chieftain gestured for the guard to bring her closer and he glanced down at her deeply bruised and swollen wrist. He also pulled back the neckline of her dress and saw the severe extent of bruising on her neck and shoulders.
“My wife’s father will not be pleased on this count, Father!”
“She is evil, milord; she deserves much worse. In truth, perhaps it would be best to have her burned at the stake for her association with the dark arts! Your own wife’s father is surely truly bewitched by the girl. When she is dead, only then will he be capable of seeing how wrongly enticed he was!”
“She possesses strange, supernatural abilities, you and I both are both aware of this for we have witnessed them with our very own eyes, but if she was entirely evil I believe you’d be dead by now, Father, and come to it, so would I!”
He paced back and forth anxiously and looked from the priest to the young woman and back again several times.
“She will be lashed, five lashes as is the usual amount issued to a woman when she has committed a crime!”
“ ’Tis not punishment enough, milord; surely not nearly enough for what she attempted.”
“Do you presume to tell me how to conduct my judgments, Father? In truth, she has far more actual physical evidence of being attacked than you do. Perhaps I might have you lashed for beating children and the suspected daughter of an esteemed chieftain!”
The priest hastily snapped his mouth shut and openly glowered at the woman. The chieftain nodded to the guard beside him to get the whip. Alainn saw him retrieve it from the peg on which it was hung. She swallowed hard and vividly remembered how Killian had once described what it was like to see and hear someone being lashed.
“I wish to speak with the Chieftain O’Rorke!” she whispered in desperation.
“You believe he can save you from this punishment I have ordered?”
She trembled and avoided looking at the man. The guard nearest her pushed her down to her knees and it was Hugh O’Brien himself who raggedly tore open the entire back of both her gown and chemise and bared her back from nape to waist. With her injured arm she unsuccessfully tried to cover her mostly exposed breasts with the torn garment. She heard the guard unfurling the whip and, in anticipation of the pain, she could almost feel its sting upon her skin. She lowered her head and tried to brace herself for what agony would surely follow, when she heard determined footsteps outside the room, and the door being thrown open.
Chapter Twenty
“What by all that is holy is transpiring here, Uncle?” Killian asked in an enraged tone. “The blacksmith’s young sons told me Alainn came to their aid. Why then, is she to be punished?”
He went to Alainn’s side, knelt beside her, and, in covering her, he noticed the dark bruises and her bent wrist. “Someone had better explain to me what has happened to Alainn or I swear to all of you here, there shall be hell to pay.” He removed his overcoat and placed it around her shoulders as he glared at his uncle, waiting for him to reply.
“Stay out of this, Killian. This clearly does not concern you. Maiden McCreary has been judged and will serve the punishment. Five lashes for attacking my priest!”
“And how did Alainn receive these abrasions; did they appear out of nowhere?”
“Killian, you have no right to question any of this; she is not your concern! Because she shared your bed does not give you cause to defend or protect her.”
“And does Niall O’Rourke know you intend to have his granddaughter lashed?”
“Killian, leave us to our business. The decision has been made, the judgment called. She will be lashed!”
“No, uncle, she will not be lashed! You can be absolutely certain, she will not be lashed, this day or any other!”
“You have no authority to question what has already been determined and judged!”
“Then I will bear the lashes for her! That is oft allowed!”
“You cannot. You are not blood kin to her, or of any recognized or accepted connection. You will therefore not be allowed to serve her punishment as that is my law!”
The two men glared at each other with austere expressions when Killian gently helped her to her feet and then openly took Alainn in his arms and tenderly consoled her.
“Aye, well, I have an indisputably strong and binding connection to her, uncle, for we are wed. Alainn is now an O’Brien for she is my wife!”
The man’s face registered stunned disbelief as did that of the priest.
“You would speak falsehoods to defend this evil seductress?” The priest accused.
“You would stoop so low as to lie to protect her, nephew?”
“‘I
speak no lie, uncle! ‘I swear on the grave of my mother, ’tis truth!” He held up Alainn’s right hand and then his own to reveal the sacred rings upon them.
“By Christ Almighty, Killian, what the hell have you done?”
“I’ve done what I’ve longed to do for the past two years, what I should have done months ago. And now you can get on with your damnable lashings for it will be me who suffers them!”
“No, Killian, you must not! What of the challenges tomorrow? You cannot be injured and weakened by a lashing. You simply cannot do this!” Alainn gently pleaded with him.
“Aye, I can and I will, Alainn, and you’ll question me no further on this!”
She held tight to him and began to quietly tremble as he held her.
“Get it over with then!” Hugh O’Brien ordered. “But it will be ten lashes then for that is the typical punishment given to a man!”
“No!” Alainn screamed. “Nay, you cannot do this, ’tis unfair. Is that how you choose to win tomorrow’s challenge, to wound Killian so severely he has no chance against you, for surely everyone in the entire county knows that is the only possible way you could best Castle O’Brien’s champion?”
“Shut your mouth, woman, before I order his punishment doubled or disallow him to take the lashes in your stead!”
At that moment Rory, Riley, and Niall O’Rorke entered the dimly lit room, demanding to know what was happening, and Killian soon alerted them as to what had taken place.
“ ’Tis wrong, father, and sure you know it well enough!” Rory angrily declared to his father.
“If Killian feels he needs to suffer Alainn’s punishment, that is understandable and acceptable, but don’t add more strokes of the whip to spite him!” Riley spoke his opinion as well.
“Don’t question me, lads! It will be as I have proclaimed!”
The Chieftain's Daughter Page 14
