Alainn lifted her chin, and looked the king directly in the eyes. She knew he noted her every word and movement unusually closely. He was an intelligent man even for all his eccentricity and instability. She reasoned if she asked to have Killian released first it would possibly draw further suspicion, and yet she was certain he may be thinking along the same lines, and trying to outwit her. Perhaps if she chose Danhoul to be freed before Killian, he would know that it was purposeful and that she was concealing the fact that Killian was important to her in some regard. Yet the longer she stalled the more suspicious he would surely become. If Danhoul was freed first perhaps with his many unusual abilities he would be capable of assisting in seeing Killian released?
The king tapped the quill against the ink pot impatiently and she knew riling him now wouldn’t be advisable. She decided she must use her head and not her heart as she spoke.
“My physician was by my side faithfully until you had him sent to the tower. He attempted to save my life when I was near death. For his servitude and valiant efforts, sure he deserves to be freed straightaway.”
“Then it shall be done.” He scribbled some words upon the paper, blew upon it and handed it to Alainn. She stared at it, but feigned the inability to actually read the paper.
“I must trust you have been true to your word, for as a woman I have limited knowledge of the written word.” She purposely misled him as she folded the paper and tucked it safely in the pocket of her gown.
She longed to ably control the king’s mind and perhaps simply make him believe they had been joined intimately. Yet she couldn’t afford to underestimate the man. Alainn believed he possessed a high level of intelligence and an uncommon intuitiveness. He held a position of power that was perhaps second to no one. He was also undeniably calculating and suspicious. Those traits combined with his frequent bouts of madness were a dangerous mix.
Whenever she sent out her weakened abilities and his thoughts came to her, he stared at her accusingly as though he was nearly aware of what she was doing. If he suspected she had unusual abilities and ordered her put to death, she would benefit no one, and that was the only certainty in her mind at the moment. She stared at the king and detected the hunger in his eyes. He walked to her without hesitation, stood beside her and stared down at her with a lascivious grin.
Alainn attempted to distract herself from the king’s revolting presence by telling herself it could always be worse. Although she was enduring undesired relations with a man she couldn’t tolerate, she forced herself to dwell on more disturbing possibilities. Sure it would be considerably worse if Lily were made to suffer the pain and humiliation she was experiencing now, or if Killian and Danhoul were to meet a violent end.
She only allowed herself to be marginally aware of the king moving behind her, but would not permit herself to actually be present in that moment. She dared to dwell on his fascination with her. She knew for certain the king had always been undeniably curious in her regard. Perhaps it was simply because she had saved the life of his daughter without believing it would benefit her in any manner, or because he truly needed to learn the truth regarding her husband, she couldn’t say for certain. She had never welcomed his company, yet she had known spending time with him was surely the only way she could see Killian released from the tower. She believed the demon was much in favor of she and the king becoming close, but she couldn’t for all her attempts fall upon why the demon would deem that advantageous in any manner, unless he felt it would one day darken her soul. Perhaps this was that day, she thought as she allowed herself to actually return to what was transpiring now.
She was only vaguely aware of the king’s offensive moans, and that he had finally moved from her. She straightened her disheveled skirts and attempted to stifle a sob. He passed her the second signed degree without hesitation, surprisingly carrying through with his end of the bargain. Her hand shook as she took it and stuffed it in her pocket barely looking upon it.
Now she thought only of Lily safe at the inn, and the two signed decrees. She envisioned the ink surely barely dry with Killian and Danhoul’s names boldly scrawled upon the decrees. This repulsively unpleasant encounter would ensure Lily did not suffer the same detestable fate. She and Killian would be allowed to return to Ireland, to their life together. She held that thought in her mind and had to believe it would be true else she would risk her soul becoming filled with ever darkening hopelessness.
Chapter Twelve
“I think I should like to keep you here with me for a time, Lady Alainn,” he whispered almost lovingly as he stared at her from across the chamber and placed his long red robe about his shoulders.
“That was not what we agreed upon,” she said with panic rising within her. “You said we would be freed, that they would be free to go.”
“You bargained for their freedom and it shall be so. The young girl, sweet, silent Lily, will remain unharmed, and the Scot held now in the dungeon can go free. The two men will be soon released from the tower and allowed to return to Ireland. I am a man of my word. They are free to go this very day. But you have not bargained for or bought your own freedom yet. That will come at a much higher cost now that I know your true worth!”
Alainn attempted to remain calm. Did he intend to keep her here to still his physical needs, or had he somehow discovered or been made aware of her many unusual magical abilities? Was that why the demon seemed pleased at her time spent with the king? Had the demon decided to have Cromwell include the king in his deceptive schemes? He would now be an easy target with both his madness and absence of remorse in his many past dealings. She pondered how best to appeal to the man.
“You told me I could go free for the gratitude of saving your daughter’s life.” She felt herself becoming fraught with dismay and consternation, but again attempted to remain calm. “And would your wife not be suspicious if she was to learn the time spent away from her is with another woman?”
“I have simply changed my mind on that count. I desire your company here for a time longer, perhaps until your elusive husband should seek to find you, for I am most curious in that regard. If no husband should come forward, I would be inclined to believe you have been misleading me and no husband actually exists. Or perhaps I will declare you a widow so you will be free to stay as my mistress indefinitely. And as for Jane, she is lovely and she has a distinct sweetness about her that I shall always adore, but she is somewhat prudish and has become notably shrewish in her jealousy. She no longer cares to have me in her bed, not even to hold her. A man cannot go without such urges stilled, not for such great insufferable lengths of time!” he moaned lowly. “And now I have experienced the benefits of keeping you here with me, we shall need to decide what you might do to ensure your freedom as well.”
She welcomed a sudden knock upon the chamber door and she once more indignantly straightened her skirts and inhaled deeply, calming the scream she felt rising in her throat and the bile in her stomach. She felt her cheeks flame as she hastened to tie her lacings and was startled when she heard the king’s attendant speak the name of the man who waited to see the king.
“Another Irishman!” the king fumed at the interruption. “What does he want?”
“He wishes to speak with you, Your Majesty! He says it is of great urgency!”
“Tell him to come back tomorrow!” he ordered the man.
“I’ve told him just that for a fortnight now, sire. He insists he must make the journey back to Ireland and that if you do not allow him audience he will be forced to tell the other lords of Ireland that you hold two Irishmen against their will for crimes that have not been made known to them. He has also assured me it is known you now keep an Irishwoman, an admittedly married Irishwoman. The man claims this has added fuel to the fire, and has caused unrest amongst the Irish. He insists there are well over a hundred Irishmen in the city alone and many other clans back in Ireland prepared to make their way to England, to attack our city if necessary.”
The king’s eyebrow rose at that, and he impatiently glanced at Alainn all the while, and then huffed aloud as was common for the man. Alainn noticed the king’s uncertainty.
“I should leave you to your tasks, Your Majesty, so that you might speak with the man alone,” she suggested, longing to be far distanced from him, despite knowing it may be fortuitous for her to overhear the conversation.
“You needn’t leave, instead perhaps you might counsel me. Tell me as someone of Irish blood, what you know of the Irish? Do you truly believe they might choose to begin an unbeatable battle, perhaps even begin a war for three of their own? There were no attacks when the Fitzgerald men were recently put to death.”
“As a mere woman how am I to know of such matters?” she managed to whisper. Her mind was fixed on deciding how she might get the decrees to Danhoul and Killian so they would be allowed to go free. But now the king awaited her reply to his inquiry.
She felt a sudden shift in the room and a lightness in the entire castle. The demon had left, she was certain of that, and with him his dark magical spell must have been ended as well. She attempted a slight feat of magic and saw the sconce on the wall flicker and go out, as she waved her hand it flamed once more. Her magic was once more in place. She knew she must find a way to respond to the king in a manner that would aid the Irish and not further incriminate them all. She inhaled deeply before she replied.
“The Fitzgerald men were guilty in the eyes of the Irish. It is unlikely our countrymen would cause unrest to defend men they believe to have been justly punished. It is doubtful they would seek vengeance for a cause they do not give credence to. However, should they feel that one or more of their own have been treated unfairly or wrongly accused, that is an entirely different matter. For although the Irish may not boast numbers of men or weapons to match your massive army, I feel I must warn you they possess a loyalty and a fury that is fearsome.
They also maintain a fierceness and a skill with weaponry second to perhaps only the Norse warriors that once invaded both our countries those centuries ago. I have heard through many and sure you’ll agree, the Irishman now held in the tower is endowed with uncommon skill and ability. If other Irishmen here in this country and back in the land of my birth are even somewhat as capable as he, would they not give your army and your city a battle worthy of preventing?” Alainn cunningly questioned.
The king seemed to be considering her words and she purposely used her powers to allow them to slowly penetrate deeper and deeper within his mind, to mold and manipulate his thoughts.
“Yes, I suppose it would be best to avoid this if it is possible.” He looked toward the advisor and told him to send the man in. The advisor nodded and left the room.
Once more Alainn began influencing the king’s thoughts and manipulating his mind.
He put his hand to his head as though in pain and glared at her accusingly.
“What are you doing to me?” he charged.
“I am not certain what you suggest, Your Majesty. I am halfway across the room, what could I possibly be doing to you?”
“I feel your thoughts searching my mind. I sense your very fingers within my skull probing and controlling my own thoughts!” he wildly claimed.
“How could that be possible? Perhaps what you now feel is a result of your riding accident and the injury to your head.”
“How do you know of my injury?”
He walked toward her angrily all the while holding his head seemingly in much pain.
“You told me yourself of an injury that has affected your ability to create music.”
“I did not say it was an injury to my head,” he suspiciously glared at her.
“Your physician and mine discussed the matter hoping to find a way to ease your discomfort. I distinctly heard them speaking of such,” she hurriedly added, hoping to sound convincing since she’d actually known of the injury because of her magical perceptiveness.
“I don’t believe you. I think you are able to cause me pain even from a distance. I think you a witch!”
She shook her head and stared at him as though he had lost his mind entirely.
Still enraged, he grasped her arm and dragged her to the window. She heard the flames crackling before the screams came to her. He pulled her to the window and forced her to look upon a young woman tied to a stake and now engulfed in flames. She was surely little more than a child. For the briefest moment she considered it might be Lily, but the Irish messenger had assured her Lily was returned safely to her parents, and as she looked more closely, this unfortunate young woman had much paler hair. Alainn’s eyes filled with compassion for the woman beyond the window, and fear for herself, and once again muddled uncertainty as to the validity of what she was witnessing.
“This is how we now deal with witches, so best you not attempt to control my mind or my thoughts again, lest you find yourself the next one to meet with flames.”
Once more Alainn tried to decide if this was reality and actually happening or if this was another cruel vision the gods had created as a way to test her. But she could smell the fire and the noxious smell of burning flesh. Could the gods create such an elaborate and believable scene? Would they be capable if their realm was filled with their own hell in war? Or had that been a vision and not truth? She could ill afford not believe she was witnessing someone being burned alive, even though Diadra’s warning was ever-clear in her mind.
Alainn attempted to ignore the disturbing sounds and the smells outside the window by conjuring an image of the searcher. She was uncertain if that magical feat would be prevented as well, but now with the demon no longer present in the chamber, it appeared only the magic that would see her safe from the king was mostly affected. She wasn’t entirely certain she cared to view the possibly gruesome images of what had been done to the searcher. Yet not knowing the outcome disturbed her as well. She decided she would summon an image if for nothing else but to distract her troubled thoughts and the fact the screams beyond the window had gone silent.
Before she’d even begun to summon the image of the stones, the coven and the searcher, she saw an unusual magical flash before her eyes. It was a vision of what was even now transpiring within the realm of the gods. Once again there was death and destruction to be seen. This was clearly not what she cared to dwell upon even if it did take her mind from her own woes at the moment.
She wondered why she was being shown this for she’d not called upon this vision and didn’t believe it was a vision of impending doom she occasionally experienced often alerting her to someone dear to her being in peril. If Aine was dead or near death, or should Lugh be soon to meet with misfortune, she would surely find herself in pain, for those telling visions were previously accompanied with a blinding pain in her head and the bane of an instant and overpowering putridly wretched stomach.
In the vision she saw many gods and creatures as Aine had shown her in the previous vision, but this time she could recognize no one directly connected to her. She considered perhaps because she’d freed the four druid dragons and the thirteen hellhounds from the magical cave in the realm of the gods and set off a chain of events that ultimately led to this time of war in the realm, she was being forced to view this vision to inform her of the lasting and serious consequences of one’s decisions...or to lay blame for what she’d begun. It would most certainly add to her already guilty conscience over leaving the searcher to the vile coven, and of the lengths she was driven to resort to regarding the king.
Alainn dismissed all these displeasing thoughts and became more intent in viewing the vision, deeming there must be a deeper purpose she was being shown a vision she did not conjure.
Alainn suddenly espied creatures she recognized, the very creatures she’d freed from the Fomorian’s curse holding them in the mystical cave. It was the thirteen hellhounds and the four druid dragons. What startled her more than simply seeing them amidst the chaotic war-torn realm was that as she stared down at them in obvious concern, the hell
hounds, and the two dragons who possessed the ability to fly, the air dragon and the fire dragon all stared up at her. Their eyes met as surely as if she’d been there in the realm with them. The dragons nodded their heads in recognition, and the hellhounds began to howl as they apparently saw her as well. Alainn could not begin to understand the meaning of any of this. Yet, something about seeing them brought her a certain comfort, she couldn’t comprehend. As quickly as the vision had come to her, it was gone and she allowed her mind to go back to the king.
She saw the king staring at her, but they were both soon distracted by the door being opened. King Henry shook his head and his mood changed immediately whether purposely or by some type of affliction to his mind, Alainn had yet to discover. He gazed at Alainn as he spoke.
“This won’t take long, you needn’t leave; stay here and brighten my day while I am made to deal with this trite unpleasantness!”
Alainn surmised the king was either overtaken with madness or now entirely controlled by the demon, although she did not sense the demon nearby. Neither possibility lent much hope for the situation to improve. She turned her back to the window and sat down, thankful of the seat beneath her for she felt her knees shaking and her mind reeling from seeing the young woman now tied to the stake. Her screams continued to fill her ears and she began to feel a hopelessness overtaking her thoughts. She had to assume this was real for she could not see herself meet the same fate.
Danhoul said people being burned as witches was not to have happened yet here in England, but the persecutions had clearly begun just as she had seen in her previous visions. She feared the demon was behind this perilous occurrence, and that it was, indeed happening even now.
Her terrified and confused thoughts were interrupted when she saw Brendan O’Leary being shown into the room. He had been one of the influential men who held reasonable power in Ireland. He and several others, including Alainn’s distant cousin Declan Fitzgerald, along with the council of the clans, had decided Killian would be one of the men assigned to speak with King Henry VIII. Killian’s father had once met with the king and that had seemed to be an affable venture, but King Henry had changed considerably since that time. He was much more volatile both since his he had suffered the injury to his head and since his unprecedented break with the church in Rome.
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