Eire of Aggression

by Gavin Green

  13

  Brody woke abruptly from a disturbing dream. The imagery of the nightmare was already vague, although the distressing feeling of his loved ones being in danger stayed with him after he woke. There was some distant memory of being on unsteady ground and the need to get to solid footing in order to defend them.

  The dream was reminiscent of some disturbing contemplations he'd been having lately when his mind wandered. He thought they were most likely brought on by the anxiety of a danger to come that he couldn't fit into understandable limits.

  The war party of fae was sure to come, and would probably have him and Kate on their 'to do' list. As Brody laid back into his pillow, he wondered once again how many fae made up a war party; for all he knew, it could be under twenty or over fifty. Any larger number was something he didn't even want to think about. And chances were that most of the fae that cherished Ballaghadaere would cut and run like spooked animals.

  Other than Liadan, he and his normal - well, sort of normal - loved ones would then be on their own. He didn't like his odds.

  Resigned to the fact that falling back to sleep was futile, Brody sat on his side of the bed and absently greeted his happy dogs. Noticing the colors of a dawn sky through the window sheers, he quickly thought of his plans for the day before the subject that plagued him came back to mind. Brody once again felt the muted exasperation that fae could be such... fairies. From what Mac told him a while back, the two that were found wanted nothing to do with gathering for a defense.

  Letting out a deep sigh, he hoped that one of the many fae that hung out around the village would soon decide to rally the others to take a stand. But, given their liberated and self-preserving natures, Brody wouldn't put money on it.

  Kate blinked her sleepy eyes and saw the silhouette of Brody's big form standing at the foot of the bed. While he buttoned his jeans, she groggily asked, "Why are you up so early, love?"

  Brody reached for a sweatshirt he'd set out on a chair and whispered, "Don't worry about it, darlin'. Get some more sleep, okay?"

  She let her eyes adjust to the shadowy room; her gift inadvertently noticed his swirling nimbus of intense and dark colors. "What has you so anxious? Sorry, I couldn't help but notice."

  Brody finished tying a shoe before replying. He wanted to be open and honest as they always were with each other, but didn't want to go too far into it and ruin her mood as well. "That problem coming in the fall has got me a little jumpy. I thought I'd go work it off or sweat it out before you got up. I didn't want to bother you with it just yet. Really, Kate, I'm fine. Get a few more winks and I'll wake you for breakfast, how does that sound?"

  Kate sat up, still sounding sleepy when she answered, "It sounds like you're trying not to burden me with your worries."

  "Yep, that's exactly what I'm doing," he said with forced glib while tying his other shoe.

  After a yawn, Kate commented, "Not too long ago, I gave Jane some advice when she was all aflutter. I told her not to go mental over something that she had no control over; give a situation its due attention when it arises."

  Brody turned to her, trying to see her expression in the softening darkness. "No offense, darlin', but are you kidding me? This isn't like shutting a window when it starts to rain. It's nowhere near that fucking easy."

  "And what would you have us do - have Janie take us to the Lore and attack them first? Since we can't know what to expect, we have no way to plan. There's nothing to be done until they come."

  Brody heard some fire behind her words but wasn't going to relent, not about this. "I didn't wanna get into this to start our day, but it's too late now." He blew out a harsh sigh and said, "I gotta wonder, Kate: are you living in denial or something? It's like you just said, 'you can only hope to avoid a fist when it's coming at your face'. Sorry, but there's a lot of shit you can do before it gets to that."

  Kate was fully awake now; Brody's impotent anger was grating and useless, except for bringing out her sarcasm. "And just what 'shit' would that be? You could somehow fae-proof the property, I suppose, or maybe build us an impregnable castle. Why don't we all just drape ourselves with raw iron and hope no one else notices. Is that what you had in mind?"

  "I don't know yet," he was almost shouting, "but I plan on finding out! I can't just sit and wait and pray for the best! We can't just offer 'em cookies and tea and hope they'll change their minds! They're not coming here to make new fucking friends, Kate! I've gotta..." Brody clenched his fists and looked away. "Fuck it, I shoulda just said, 'bad dream' and left it at that, if you and your nimbus would've let me." In a quieter but still angry tone, he muttered, "I got the dogs nervous; now they really need out." He left the bedroom. Kate called his name once; he ignored it and stomped out of the cottage.

  For the next two hours or so, Brody didn't go back inside and Kate didn't step out. Sensing the edgy mood of their master, the dogs stayed near to him for reassurance. Their attention and unconditional adoration calmed him somewhat, but he still had a lot of angry energy to burn off.

  After seeing to the donkeys, Brody completed the stonework for the boat dock and took a hard run along the lake shore. Sweaty in the cool, sunny morning, he decided not to go back in before leaving; he and Kate pissed each other off and maybe she was still fuming. He only went so far as to open the front door, ushered the dogs in, and grab his keys off the peg before stepping out again and driving off.

  Brody decided that focusing on something else - anything else - would put him in a better mood, at least for a while. After a short drive, he finally chose to go to the storage garage behind Hammerworks, which was being refitted as a secondary workspace. He was there just long enough to realize that he was doing some pretty poor work and making a lot of simple mistakes, when Simon stepped inside. Brody made eye contact with his cousin, expected that his scowl would explain his mood, and then returned his attention to the big block of Connemara marble in front of him.

  Simon calmly shut the door behind him and gave Brody a closer look. His cousin's thick arms were tensed with flexing muscles and bulging veins while he manhandled the two-foot square block. What was more unsettling was that those big arms were stone gray all the way up into his sweat-stained short sleeve t-shirt. "So, you gonna tell me what's got you so hot under the collar," he said while pulling out a pre-rolled quirley and lighting it, "or did you just wanna keep makin' a ruckus out here?"

  After casting a quick glare at Simon, Brody shifted the block with a push. "Maybe now isn't the best time, cuz. I don't feel like talking."

  "Don't feel like talking, huh?" Simon took a short puff and let it out. "Well, since me and Robbie Kelly can hear you from the back of the store cussing it up out here, I'd say you're more in the mood for hollerin'."

  Brody slammed down a chisel on a table. "What do you want, Simon!"

  "A couple things, actually," Simon replied casually, leaning against the door. "First, I came to tell ya that Kate just called; seems you forgot your phone." He took another pull of his quirley. "I reckon you don't wanna talk to her right now either, right?"

  "Right," Brody growled without looking up.

  "Alright, then; just ignore the best thing in your life, that's your call. The other reason I came out is to get my good tools outta here before you tore the place apart. I don't wanna go diggin' through the rubble for 'em."

  "I'll try and keep it down," Brody said through gritted teeth. "Now if you can't get the hint, leave me alone; I wanna get some work done."

  "Then you might be here a while, because what you're doin' right now looks like shit."

  Brody's eyes flashed up and saw Simon smirking at him. "Goddammit, Simon, are you trying to pick a fight or something?"

  Simon shrugged. "Sorta, cuz - you sure as shootin' need to haul off on somethin'. I reckon slammin' things around and actin' like a fussy baby ain't doin' the trick, is it?"

  "Don't push it, don't make me... lose my temper," Brody growled.

  Simon didn't look concerned.
"Hell, Brody, ya lost your temper way before I walked in. Go ahead and take a swing at me if you reckon it'll do ya any good. You're so off-kilter right now, you couldn't stomp on the ground without missin'."

  "Seriously, Simon..."

  "What're ya gonna do instead? Carve up a big stone sad face because you're feelin' sorry for yourself? I'm surprised you ain't cryin' yet."

  Brody reached the limit of his frustration. With a roar, he swung his rock-hard fist like a hammer. There was a loud clap of impact when it slammed into the marble block. Chunks and fragments of stone shot away, as well as chips of wood; his strike followed through into the tree stump pedestal below.

  His quirley forgotten, Simon instinctively turned to the side and shielded his face. He glanced back to see Brody taking a deep breath as rock dust settled around him. "Feel better now?" Simon asked, trying to sound as if his composure wasn't shaken.

  After Brody took another deep breath and blinked the dust out of his eyes, he answered evenly, "A little bit, yeah. Man, I... fucked this up." The statement was meant for the locally-cut marble, but he immediately realized that it also applied to how he'd handled the situation. After a moment of regret, he looked over and noticed Simon had a small oozing cut on the back of his hand. "You okay?"

  "I'm good if you are, cuz."

  "Damn, Simon, you took a risk there. I coulda done some real damage."

  Dusting himself off, Simon replied, "Yep, you coulda, but I was bankin' on who you are. You're a good fella, Brody - a nice guy; the last choice on your list is hurtin' anybody. I reckon you'd punch a hundred walls before ya swung on someone, and then you'd feel bad for the walls."

  Brody grinned at the comment. "That kinda makes me sound like a pussy."

  "Only kinda? I'll try harder next time," Simon said with a smile. "You needed to let off some steam, and yelling at everyone wasn't gonna do the trick. I know all about that sorta thing. Why else do you think I got one of them heavy bags hung at the far end of my shop? Sometimes ya gotta just punch the anger out, or at least work up a good lather." Looking at the mess of green-and-white swirled chunks, he added, "I guess we could find an ugly ol' tree somewhere and let you wail on it when you need to."

  "Yeah, I guess so," Brody said just as a reply. He stepped over to Simon and put a hand on his shoulder in thanks while opening the door next to him. They stepped outside into the alley and lingered, both of them thinking about what was done and said. "I didn't handle this too well, cuz," Brody muttered.

  Simon shrugged. "You just ain't used to bein' mad for longer than five minutes at a time. Trust me, I've been pissed off for most of my life - I know what I'm talkin' about."

  "Well, I can't just go busting up all my supplies, so what do I do?"

  Simon gestured with a sideways nod of his head, suggesting they walk. "I reckon it's all gotta do with them Other Folks, Good Crowd, whatever they are, is that right?" Brody simply nodded, so Simon continued. "Yeah, it's been rollin' around my noggin, too, what with a scrap comin' and your womenfolk standin' in harm's way. You need to figure out where you stand and who's with ya, so go do it."

  "That's the problem - how?" Brody realized that Simon was leading him the long way out of the alley and around other shops to go back to the front of theirs. It gave them a minute or two of privacy for their conversation.

  "Easy, cousin; you fetch yourself one of 'them' as a go-between to talk to the others around here. Get Liadan or that Mac fella to help. Make a deal if ya have to. You go because you wanna know, you take Kate so she can read 'em or however she does it, and you take me or Kate's little sister along to keep an eye out. You go find out, for all our sakes, and we'll figure somethin' out after. In the meantime, you gotta just work it outta your system. And I don't mean anything that takes concentration or a skilled hand; I mean kinda mindless grunt work - that, or a punchin' bag."

  "That's the trick?" Brody asked as they neared the front door to Hammerworks.

  "It works for me, anyhow. Let's go see if you're cut from the same cloth." Simon opened the front door and said to Mary just inside, "Since it ain't nothin' but quiet right now, me and Brody are gonna head over to the festival grounds and put in some labor." He gave Mary a quick wink. "And no molestin' the help; Robbie ain't ready for you."

  Brody's anger was gone by mid-morning, although guilt had rushed in to replace it. Even though the air was cool, he'd worked up a sweat; hauling lumber, constructing more booths with large overhangs in case of rain, and helping Simon unload delivery trucks for Father Doyle. Keeping himself busy with 'grunt work', as his cousin had put it, let him see his earlier attitudes and actions with a detached perspective. He decided that after a few more small projects were completed, he'd go back home and have a humble chat with Kate.

  While Brody was making sturdy bench seating for the stage acts, Archie Walsh assisted him by holding the boards steady with his butt while drinking a beer. Between gulps, the elderly friend spoke of Father Doyle's and Liam McCarthy's tireless work to make the Flinn Festival a success.

  Brody had received a few updates from that pair of organizers already; ads were running in regional newspapers and radio stations, sponsors were signing up, booth rentals were selling out, and there were reports of hotel rooms being reserved. With the updates Liam was supplying, Brody was already informed, so he only half-listened as his friend - still mourning the loss of Flinn - rambled on about events and details.

  Two mid-morning shadows came up near Brody as he was cutting a board. Releasing the trigger on the circular saw, he heard Archie belch before he greeted the shadow's owners. "Ah, if it isn't the young O'Grady lads, come to lend a hand. How's your da of late? We haven't seen him liftin' a pint for some time now."

  Brody turned to the young men as they answered, "Da's gettin' along, Mister Walsh - just busier with the fields and herds this season without us." They were identical twins; both with dark hair, ruddy cheeks, and average builds. They both kept glancing at Brody while Archie talked to them.

  Archie nodded at their words. "Right, right; off at college now. Well done, lads - keep up with the marks. I take it your da was able to afford it after that unknown patron paid off the land debt last fall?"

  Brody tried to give a subtle glare over to Archie, but the old man was blithely keeping his eyes on the O'Grady boys. It was known that Father Doyle let some of Brody's earlier activities slip to his old friends Archie and Flinn; he was just unsure how far the priest went with his gossip.

  "That he was, and the blessing came right in time," one of the twins said. The other followed up with, "We were keepin' tight as a duck's arse for a long spell."

  "Aye, and so it's said, 'Hardship is the plow the Irish have pulled through rocky fields for generations'." He followed the quote with another swig.

  "Hey, that was a good one," Brody commented. "Who were you quoting, Archie?"

  "Not a feckin' clue - I may have just made it up," the old man replied with a shrug. "Brody, this is Shane and Shawn O'Grady. Don't ask me which is which. You've shaken hands with their da, David, a few times over at Gil's. Lads, this is Mister Brody Lynch, who's taken permanent roost hereabouts. He's the bloke who panned out those Wagner bastards from across the water late last year; I'm sure you heard."

  Brody sighed at Archie and then turned to the O'Grady twins. "I'd rather not be remembered for that, okay? How about, I'm the guy who just opened a shop in the village." He held out his big hand and shook theirs. "It's good to meet you both. So, which college are you going to?"

  "Moyne, up in Ballina," the one on the left replied. The other added, "We're both in engineering programs; Shawn's in software and I'm in hardware. We'd heard of the festival even up at school; since we had breaks from classes, we thought we'd lend a hand while we have the time."

  "A fine gesture," Archie said while opening another bottle. He waved his drink toward the expansive field and the nine or ten volunteers who were working on various projects. "There's still plenty to be seen to; take your pick, lads
."

  "That we will, Mister Walsh," Shane said. "Before we get to it, though, we, em, had a question for Mister Lynch here, if we're not being too bold."

  Surprised at that, Brody still saw that they were polite and so wasn't apprehensive about their curiosity. "Sure, how can I help you guys?"

  The twins glanced at each other before Shawn asked, "Do you play for one of the clubs in the RUC?"

  "Yeah," Shane added, "I mean, like, you're a feckin' tank, mate. We'd keep an eye on the team you're with - you must knock 'em down like pins."

  With a baffled expression, Brody slowly turned to Archie.

  The old man grinned at him. "They're talkin' of the Rugby Union; it's a non-professional league."

  "Oh, right," Brody said, turning back to the twins. "Well, I've got jerseys of some of the nearby teams, and I like watching the games when they're televised. But no; sorry, fellas, I don't play it. I did play American football for a few years in high school, but that's a very different game. I gotta admit, though, rugby looks like it'd be fun."

  "You should give it a go," Shawn said. "You'd be brilliant. This season is almost over, so you could train up for September when they -"

  "Let it be for now, lads," Archie said abruptly. When everyone looked at him, he pointed out to the far side of the field. Dressed in casual clothes that couldn't hide her naturally alluring form, Kate was walking toward them. "That'll be Kate McCarthy, older sister to Jane; you two might remember her from secondary. Mister Lynch here is courting the fine mare coming our way, and he's on well with her kin. I thought I'd mention that afore you lads say anything out of turn or otherwise fuckin' thick."

  While Brody brushed the sawdust off of his hands and arms, he said to the O'Grady's, "See that guy off to the left - the tall one with blonde hair trying to put that booth up on rollers? His name's Simon. I bet he could use a hand right about now." He shook their hands again. "It was good to meet ya. Thanks for helping out." To Archie, he said, "Try to keep the lumber from running off, okay? I've gotta go have a few words with my lady."

  By Brody's expression, Archie could tell that they were words he would have trouble saying. "Ah, difficulties, is it? Catch it early, lad; 'Even a small thorn causes festering', so it's said." He paused from taking another sip to let out a belch.

  "Did you make that one up, too?"

  Archie shook his head. "I can't recall who said it, but it was an Irishman and that's enough for me. Now get ye gone and say your words where no other ears can hear 'em. This town has enough gab as it is."

  Brody walked toward Kate and met her near the middle of the field with no one else nearby. She seemed as nervous as him, which was unexpected; he thought she'd still be offended at his words. "What are you doing out here?" he asked gently.

  "Mary told me where you were. I didn't feel like waiting at home for you."

  Just then, Brody wished he had Kate's nimbus gift to know how to react properly. "Well, thanks for coming out - to see me, I mean. I would have headed back to the cottage, but being outside kinda helps me to think things through, ya know?"

  Kate nodded with her eyes facing down. "I've learned that about you early on."

  "Yeah, I forgot," Brody attempted a grin, "you've got me figured out." He looked down at her; he didn't need nimbus-sight to see how fretful she was. "Hey, unless you said something really harsh that I don't remember, there's no reason for you to be nervous. I actually thought you'd be mad. I'm the one who acted like a jackass; don't go tryin' to steal my thunder."

  Kate only glanced up with a small smile for a split second and then averted her eyes. "I didn't know when you were coming back home. An hour, a day - I had no idea. We'd never fought like that before and I didn't know..."

  Brody sensed that it was Kate's old insecurities that he'd made her revisit, and felt more like an ass with the realization. "Kate, look at me, please." When she lifted her eyes to his once more, he went on. "Take a good look. I bet the only colors you see are the ones that tell you that I'm not going anywhere but back to you, if you'd let me."

  She gazed at him for a moment with those big brown eyes that always weakened him. "Yes, I see that," she said quietly. "Always, love - always come back to me."

  He kissed her gently and then grinned. "There are a couple things I said that I guess you forgot."

  "Oh?"

  "Not too long ago, I said that you couldn't get rid of me so easily. The other thing I said was when we first got together. I told you that sooner or later I was gonna say or do something stupid - that I'd fuck up, because it's what guys do. Well, here we are."

  "That you did," Kate said with a soft smile, "and you kept your word."

  Brody nodded, pursed his lips, and then took a deep breath through his nose; he wanted his next words to sound as tactful as possible, and took a moment to mentally compose them. "I may have used all the wrong words and acted like a fool, but I still think my opinion is valid. I had some time - while I was smashing rocks and working up a sweat - to think about what you said. If there's a way to do things your way - diplomacy - then I'm all for it; the last thing I want is a fight. I just don't think that'll work this time; they're not calling it a war party for nothing."

  Without losing eye contact, Kate reached out and took Brody's hand. "I know you're worried, and not just because you can't guess their actions. You feel responsible for defending not only me, but my family, your cousin, and any friends who might be in danger. That's a heavy load to bear, love, and you've placed it on your own shoulders. I happen to think it's simply unnecessary; I still hold firm that discussion and understanding can solve most issues. I believe that you've burdened yourself with a weight that doesn't need to be lifted. Violence is a last resort - I would try for peace first, always."

  "Darlin', just listen a sec," Brody said with all the patience he could muster. "Yes, I'm worried, and yes, I want to keep everyone I love safe. I respect your logic and wanting to keep everything peaceful, but I'm pretty sure these guys want the exact opposite. Remember what I told you, about what Mac and Liadan said to me? These fae thugs are coming to loot, and in the meantime they'll clean up their little Enigma problem - meaning us - any way they can."

  Kate took a calming breath and then looked up at him. "When we first met Kazimir, it started badly but ended up on neutral terms at worst. In a way, the same could be said for when you confronted the one named Ragnar. Since then, have we seen either of them again? No, but if we do, I'd expect either of them to be civil to us. Admittedly, a horde of fae with bad intent is a daunting challenge, but I believe the same results could be reached."

  Brody turned away so that she couldn't see him roll his eyes. Yes, she could read his emotions, but they wouldn't insult her like his expression would. He looked back at her, hoping she'd grasp his point. "Kate, you're putting human values on these aliens and expecting them to follow the same ethics and morals that we do. If that little bastard Lorcan taught us anything, it's that your expectations probably won't be met. And chances are, this war party is worse than him."

  Frowning, Kate muttered, "Lorcan - there's a bad apple in every bunch. Didn't Mac and Liadan also tell you that they're coming here because one of their laws was broken and it must be remedied? That sounds like a reasonable and righteous cause to me. Surely, even fae on that type of mission would listen to reason. We can possibly make this better, not worse."

  "And if you're wrong, they'll turn this whole area into a land of misery. Are you willing to risk that on your assumptions?"

  Kate let out an exasperated sigh. "Love, we're going in circles." She stepped closer and craned her head up to look into his grey eyes. "Remember how it was when we went for Jamal and Carla's wedding? It was just you and I and not a care in the world. I know that was only temporary and that issues awaited us when we returned home, but I want us to strive for that peace of mind whenever possible. Bickering about 'what-ifs' is no help. As before, can we simply put it away for now and enjoy some time together? This festival starts s
oon enough; I'd rather we saw it hand in hand than from opposite sides of the field."

  Brody rubbed his hands over his face and then combed his fingers through his damp hair. "Yeah, I would too. Your idea sounds good, but then most of 'em do." He actually thought she was being foolishly optimistic, but he made no comment of it. He was tired of being upset; there was time to discuss the fae threat later. "Wanna get away from here for a while? We can go for a drive or something."

  "A drive sounds like a nice diversion," Kate replied with a pleasant smile, "although I'd request we keep the windows down; too much of your 'manly' odor could be the death of me."