Mannan: A Tale of Vengeance: A Novel in the Chronicles of Philip Williams

by Jason Henry Evans

  The entire ride back he tried to convince himself that the escalation of violence was necessary to end it. That it could be worse. Mannan recalled the stories and atrocities back in Ireland. No, we are different, he thought. But he couldn’t get the faces of those weeping women out of his head.

  No. This is different. I could have murdered them all. Far worse has happened between families. Far worse. No. I let them go. I let them go with their children and with food. I let them go unmolested. We are different.

  As much as Mannan wanted to believe his own words, their weeping faces, full of terror, would not go away.

  He made it to his farm around mid-morning. Deborah was checking the hens while his mother sat on a log with her drop spindle making thread out of raw wool. Ote chopped firewood. Deborah came out of the coop with a basket full of eggs. Her eyes widened to see him. “Is it done?”

  Mannan climbed down from Fiona. “Aye, it’s done.” He walked the mare into the barn and fed her some oats. He emerged and went to help Ote with the chopping. He knew Deborah wanted details, stories of the raid. She had the common sense not to ask.

  Mannan went about the day like any other. He took the cattle to the stream to eat and drink, then brought them back around dusk. When he arrived back home Seamus and Brian leaned against the Micken wagon. “What’s this?”

  Seamus looked at Brian who began to smirk. He walked to the rear of the wagon where a blanket covered something. “Look what we found,” Brian said as he pulled the blanket back. Underneath was Riona, bound at the wrists and ankles with a gag in her mouth. She writhed to and fro with a rage in her eyes.

  Mannan’s jaw slacked. “Saint Patrick, preserve us.”

  Chapter 6

  This was unexpected. Mannan stood dumbfounded, unable to reply.

  “We were going through their herd and found her hiding among the cattle,” Aaron Rue said.

  “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you let her go?” Mannan asked.

  “Mannan,” Seamus said. He got close to his cousin and turned his back to Riona. “We have a bargaining chip. She is the only kin Connell has in the highlands. She’s a tanist. If we have her, he’s bound to come to the table and negotiate. He’s bound to talk.”

  There was sense in Seamus’ words. But to see Riona like this soured Mannan’s stomach. “So how do we do this? Nobody knows where Connell is.”

  “We figured we could keep her here, safe and out of sight until we could get a message through to Connell,” Aaron Rue said.

  Mannan’s eyes widened. “What? Her? Here?” He shook his head violently. “Absolutely not.”

  “It’ll be for a week, maybe less,” Aaron Rue said. He looked down in shame.

  Mannan turned to Seamus, who also stared at his feet.

  “What?” Mannan asked.

  Seamus sighed. “We . . . really don’t have any other place right now . . . to keep her, I mean.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Aaron scratched his head awkwardly. “Some of the others think we should kill her. In fact, some were adamant.” He pulled the hair out of his eyes. “I cannot protect her at my farm.”

  “Nor can I,” Seamus said. “But no one would dare come here. There’s too much respect for you.” Seamus nodded his head backwards, towards the house. “Too much respect for your Ma.”

  Mannan sighed then bit his lip. “Fuck.” He grabbed Riona’s legs—which caused her to squeal— and pulled her forward as she fought it. Mannan tried to undo the gag of rope wrapped around her face, but she struggled and struck him twice with her bound hands. “Stop,” he said calmly. She continued to struggle. “I’m trying to . . .” but she hit him again.

  “ENOUGH.” He grabbed her by her arms. “I will tie you to a fence post and let you sleep outside all night. No food. No water. Would you like that?”

  Riona’s reply was her rage filled eyes.

  “I will not harm you. But if you act like a beast I will treat you like one. Understand?”

  Riona stilled, wresting her hands in her lap.

  “Thank you,” Mannan said. He proceeded to untie her gag. When it came free she said nothing. “Welcome to my farm, Riona.”

  ◆◆◆

  Mannan called for his mother, Eibhlin, and his sister, Deborah. Eibhlin took Riona inside while Deborah went to fetch a pail of water. Mannan grabbed his sister by the arm. “Be nice, Deborah. She’s our guest.”

  Deborah’s eyes widened as she lifted her left eyebrow. “Some guest.”

  Mannan pulled his sister closer. “Be NICE. We can end this.” He looked at Riona briefly as she walked to the house. “She could be the key. Besides, her brother is dead and her house has been burned down. Kindness won’t kill you.”

  Deborah wrenched her arm from Mannan. “Fine. I’ll be nice,” she said with a sneer.

  Seamus and Aaron took the wagon with them when the left. Mannan went for a walk trying to figure out what he would say to her. That sweet moment they had under the oak tree kept flooding his mind. He found himself wandering over a hill before he decided to return. Could he trade her for some guaranty? Could he convince her to talk sense to Connell? The smell of baking bread and roasting fish made his mouth water as the house came into view.

  Riona sat on a log, tied to a fence railing when Mannan approached. “Is this how you treat your guests, Mannan?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I hope my sister and mother weren’t too harsh.”

  “Your sister was the soul of solemnity. She spoke not a word to me while she scrubbed my face clean with soap. Your mother, on the other hand, kept trying to chat with me. As if this was a social call.”

  Mannan desperately wanted to change the subject. “Supper will be ready, soon. I hope you have an appetite.”

  Riona looked Mannan up and down like a piece of meat. “And what appetite do you have this evening?” Her words were cold with a hint of mock.

  Mannan’s heart leapt into his throat. His face warmed. “What do you mean?”

  Riona grew a sinister smile on her face. “Oh, I think you catch my meaning.” Her eyes grew big and her tone became a mocking of innocence. “Oh kind sir, do not dishonor me thusly! I am at your mercy. Be kind . . . be gentle.” Her fake innocence disappeared from her face replaced by malice.

  A heat rushed into Mannan’s throat and face. He trembled with rage. “I would not do that. Especially . . .”

  “Oh come now, Mannan. I remember our sweet kiss. I know you want me. I wanted you at one point, I suppose.” Riona narrowed her eyes on him. “Take what is yours by right of conquest.” She bore her teeth like a snarling wolf. “Take it and be done,” she spat.

  Mannan’s rage left him, replaced by grief. He could see now that the woman he kissed and sat with had died. What remained of her was a revenant filed with rage. He moved closer to her and sat on a tree limb. “I’m sorry, Riona.”

  “Sorry? For what? Murdering my brother? Burning my house down?”

  “I did not mean to kill Diarmuid. I did not mean for any of this to happen. I did not mean to hurt you.” He reached his hand out to touch her cheek. She snapped and snarled in reply. “It did not have to be this way. We had choices. All of us had choices.”

  “It is our way. To reave and be reaved. There is nothing more,” Riona said.

  “I wanted more than that when we moved here. I wanted . . .”

  “What? A new start? Peace? A world where all men are equal?” Riona laughed bitterly. “We don’t get those things, Mannan. We are the poor and destitute. Debased by the world. Look around you. The MacKenzies could have said no your people or to ours. That would have been a blessing.”

  “A blessing?” Mannan was confused.

  “The ground is hard and cold. Frozen most of the year. Few crops can grow here. Still our landlords herd us on frozen ground to collect more rents. We would have starved anyways. At least when we reave we put the choice of life and death in our own hands.”

  Mannan shook his head. �
��No. That is not true. We grow crops, fish the streams and raise chickens. The work is hard—harder than anything imaginable—but the work is honest. More importantly, we survive.”

  Riona clucked her teeth and shook her head.

  “Diarmuid BEGGED me to come to his house because the trade went so well. He was thankful. Things could have been different. We could have lived in peace.” Mannan got up and turned away from Riona. The hate in her eyes was too much. “I know you cannot stand me. You have cause, I know it. But I swear before heaven I did not mean to murder your brother. I will take his death to my grave, Riona. Please know that. It was an accident.”

  A single howl of a wolf interrupted him. Riona looked around surprised. She looked at Mannan directly. “So you won’t rape me?”

  The pain returned to Mannan’s chest. “I would never do that to any woman. But I could never do that to you, especially.” He turned away to collect himself. Riona’s question pierced him like a spear.

  Riona shook her head. “This will not end between our families. You know that, don’t you? Even if peace could be had, Connell, the men we have left, the boys we raise, they would remember the slight and revenge. It is our way. The Irish way.” She lowered her head and spoke softly. “We know nothing else.”

  “I cannot believe that. We can choose to be more. We can choose to be better.”

  “It’s the way of things. We are Mickens and MacOwens. Butlers and Geraldines. We are Connachtmen and Westerners. We are Irish,” she said.

  Mannan shook his head. “Then I choose to be different. I will no longer claim those old distinctions. I choose to be Scottish,” Mannan said.

  “You cannot choose what you are, Mannan.”

  “Why not?”

  “You just can’t. Any more than I can choose to be a fish or an otter.”

  “Mannan,” Eibhlin called from the front door. “Supper is ready. Come in now and bring Riona with you.”

  Mannan stepped towards Riona and helped her up. He never once let go of the rope around her wrists. The smell of simmering food made his stomach growl. It also reminded him of his aching legs and back. If food was not immediate, Mannan would likely sleep where he stood.

  Another wolf howled as the sunset.

  “Do you always have such cheerful company?” Riona asked.

  Mannan looked to the hills. “It’s summer. They have full bellies now, what with the rabbits and otters and other creatures nearby. They won’t come after our cows or chickens until winter when they’re desperate.”

  Mannan pushed Riona forward into the house where the smell of fresh bread permeated everything. His stomach growled. It just occurred to Mannan how hungry he was.

  “Well, I hope our simple fare is up to your standards,” Deborah said bitterly.

  “Enough, Deborah. Riona is our guest,” Mannan said.

  Riona held up her bound wrists. “Really?”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Mannan said as he looked around. “Where’s Ote?”

  “Ote is out patrolling the valley with our cousins,” Deborah said.

  “Well, I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” Mannan plopped down on his favorite stool. Riona sat to his right while Deborah sat opposite the Micken girl. Eibhlin came with a large bowl of soup.

  Mannan took a sniff and smiled. “Heavenly, ma.” He smiled at her.

  “You have all this cattle and you eat parsnips and carrots. Why?” Riona asked.

  Mannan broke a loaf of warm bread and distributed it. “Too valuable. They’re dung fertilizes our crops. The milk sustains us throughout the year while the butter and cheese will hold up all winter long.” Mannan shook his head while chewing his bread. “No. Far too valuable alive.” He ladled soup for Riona. “When a cow goes lame, or gets injured some other way, I’ll not have her suffer. But there’s not enough of us to keep all that meat.” A distant howl echoed gently into the home. Mannan looked up to the rafters. “Besides, hanging meat attracts wolves.”

  Eibhlin sat to eat with Riona and her family. The tension of having Riona there with her hands bound together made light conversation impossible. Mannan buttered bread and Deborah sipped her soup with malice in her eyes while Riona struggled with her spoon.

  “Sister, butter Riona’s bread,” Mannan said.

  Deborah looked up from her soup. She took her eating knife and smeared a wad of butter onto a wedge of bread. She followed that up by tossing it to Riona in a huff.

  “So this is the hospitality of the MacOwens? I cannot even eat my soup. And this child mocks me?” Riona’s eyes sparked with malice.

  “My Ote nearly died because of your kind,” Deborah said.

  “My brother did die,” Riona thundered back.

  “Why you—”

  “ENOUGH,” Mannan said. Everyone stilled for a moment.

  “Will you at least untie me so I can eat civilized?” Riona asked.

  “Oh No,” Mannan said. “You’re too valuable to let get away.”

  “What did I ever see in you?” Riona said. “We should have burned you out when we got the chance.”

  Her words cut Mannan. He stood to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Eibhlin asked.

  “There’s some cheese in the back of the barn. She can eat that with her hands bound,” Mannan said as he stormed out the door. He was angry. More at the situation then with Riona. Riona he could understand. Her brother dead, her home burned to ashes, and her herd scattered. He could understand Deborah, too. But together they were wet cats hissing at each other about to pounce.

  Thunder cracked closer than Mannan expected. The air was damper and colder than he expected. He opened the barn door, fumbling around in the darkness as Fiona jostled in her stall. Suddenly he heard screams and crashes. Mannan turned back to the house and saw Deborah sprint from the house into the grey evening. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself before chasing after her.

  Even with her wrists bound she was fast. Faster than Mannan had any hope of catching up to her. “There’s no place to run. You might—”

  Thunder clapped as lightning flashed. He could see her about a hundred yards ahead, slowly climbing a hill. Just then the rain started. Mannan would have to catch her soon or he wouldn’t catch her at all.

  He trudged on as quickly as he could. Flashes of lightning showed Riona running, stumbling, and standing again along the hillside. Mannan ran as the soft rain came down. By now the storm had extinguished the sunset and the valley was almost black. Where is she, he thought. She has to be here, somewhere?

  Mannan sprinted to the top of a ridge and peered through the rain and darkness. “Riona,” Mannan called. “It’s not safe out here.” He walked on, shivering in the cold. The rain fell heavier now. Despite his half empty belly, despite his sore legs and wet body, despite the rain, he had to find her. He had to make sure she was safe.

  Lightning flashed and thunder clapped. There. She was ahead of him, some seventy yards away. He dare not speak less she disappear down one side or another. Mannan ran, taking every step in faith that he would not fall to one side of the ridge or the other as he closed in on Riona.

  The lightning danced brilliantly against the hills again. This time Riona saw him. He was sure of it. His lungs burned but he could hear her hard breathing and whimpers over the rain. He was getting closer.

  A scream.

  “Riona?” Mannan called out.

  The lightning illuminated the night and he saw her slide down the other side of the ridge. He followed but lost his balance. Mannan tumbled through rock and grass and thistle now damp with the rain and muddied. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed again.

  “Mannan help,” she cried out. She was close. Did she sprain an ankle? Break a leg? The worst passed through his mind as he got up from the mud and grass.

  “MANNAN,” Riona cried again.

  “Are you hurt?” He replied while running to her side. His eyes were adjusting to the night, but not to the lightning. He saw her form in front of him. “You shou
ldn’t have run,” he chastised.

  She seemed preoccupied. Her head darted to Mannan, then back to the darkness. “We have other problems.”

  He peered into the darkness and saw three small sets of red eyes, all locked on Riona. They growled.

  Mannan got closer. Riona held a rock in her bound hands. Slowly, he stood in front of her and pulled his eating knife. “Release me and I’ll fight with you,” she said.

  One of the wolves snapped and snarled.

  “By the time I turn around, I’ll be their supper,” Mannan said.

  Lightning flashed again, showing three large wolves bearing their teeth. The light receded, making Mannan blind. “When I tell you to run, you run.”

  “I will not,” Riona said. “I’ll not let you become a martyr.”

  A wolf snapped at Mannan. He could feel the heat of his breath on his arm.

  Mannan stepped back, pushing Riona up the ridge.

  Another wolf lunged at Mannan. It sunk its teeth into his left arm. “ARGH,” Mannan cried out. The sharp pain of flesh rending made the cold of the rain become a distant memory.

  He wrestled with the wolf for his arm before plunging his knife into the neck of the animal. It yelped in pain before letting go and running into the night.

  Suddenly he felt the other two come forward. One wolf clamped down on his injured forearm, growling as it bit. The attack carried Mannan onto his back. He wanted to stab the wolf, but the other one tore into his shin, nipping and biting as he wrestled with the wolf on top. The pain was so great that he dropped his knife. “Run, Riona. Run back to the house,” Mannan hollered between yelps of pain.

  The wolf’s hot breath and snarls mingled with the searing pain in his arm. He grabbed the wolf’s neck fur and pulled it back, but to no avail. Meanwhile the other continued wolf to nip and bite at his legs and thighs.

  Mannan turned to his left, forcing the wolf off of him and on its back. Suddenly the wolf panicked and scrambled. It wanted to release Mannan, but he forced his forearm deeper into the wolf’s mouth, pinning it against the ground. It squirmed and fought to get out. Mannan grabbed the wolf’s throat with his left hand while looking for his knife with the other. He felt a smooth stone. He grabbed it and bashed the wolf on its head, hearing it whimper between the thunder claps and lightning. Soon, the wolf stopped struggling.