The Witch's Journey

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  Hearing a knock, she opened the door hoping it was him but it was Danhoul and the priest.

  “Is Faolan okay?” she asked, for the ruckus below hadn’t quietened.

  “He isn’t here. It’s local men and some soldiers. Likely a regular occurrence,” Danhoul said.

  “Do you think Aine would be willing to bargain with me?” Angelique asked.

  “It isn’t only Aine who makes decisions,” Sionaidh said. “It’s the Council of the Gods. Their divining powers determine you’d be in danger if you remain with your husband.”

  “There’s no way anyone can change that fate?”

  “Because Faolan deals in dangerous activities and is associated with unscrupulous sorts, there’s certain to be demonic presence,” Danhoul said.

  “I’m sure I attract evil, too,” Angelique argued.

  “Perhaps the two of you together signals evil,” Sionaidh said.

  “Our love’s powerful and positive. Faolan makes me happy. When I’m happy it’s easier to keep darkness away. I attracted demons long before he was in my life.”

  “If your husband dies wouldn’t that create a more potent darkness inside you?” Sionaidh asked.

  “Keep Faolan safe. Is that really too much to ask of the gods if they want me to fight in this battle?”

  “We’ve seen many future possibilities but some would see you killed along with him,” Sionaidh replied.

  “Maybe we’ll need more guardians,” Angelique suggested.

  *

  “You’re pale,” Faolan said peering in the door when she’d answered his knock.

  “Just tired. It’s super noisy here.”

  “Come back and sleep with me. The waves rock the ship and it’s peaceful for sleeping.”

  “No, I’ll stay here.”

  “For the love of Christ, woman,” Faolan said pushing inside and closing the door behind him. “I swear, you’ll be my bloody undoing! I need you.”

  His breath tasted of whiskey as he kissed her hard and his hands hungrily roved her body. Uncovering her breasts, he suckled them indelicately as he tugged roughly at her clothing, which didn’t rip like in romance novels.

  Like a man bedeviled, he pulled down her pantaloons and tore at his own clothes. Not removed, but adjusted enough to permit penetration, he held her against the wall and took her swiftly and vigorously. The fervid thuds against the wall jarred her with each exuberant thrust. Her body responded unquestionably; she gasped and quivered with a sequence of powerful orgasms.

  “You’re mine, Angelique Mahoney. Always!” He moaned loudly, his body shuddering as he ardently came.

  The frenzied encounter ended. He breathed raggedly, then released her. She didn’t speak, just straightened her skirts and tried to cover her breasts.

  He spotted the red line on her neck caused by his passionate impatience in pulling on her shift. His eyes filled with shame when he glanced at the large sanguine mark of passion on her breast, too.

  “By all that’s holy, I’m sorry I behaved boorishly.”

  She only shrugged. “You only behaved with the desperation we both feel,” she softly said.

  “I’ll let you sleep. Lock the door,” he said but wouldn’t meet her eyes as he left.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The storm lessened by morning though the sea remained rough. Angelique watched the waves crest and fall against the rocks, felt the sea spray upon her face. She’d intuitively sensed Faolan’s deep discord and needed to go to him. Danhoul accompanied her but was unusually quiet. He glanced disapprovingly at the red line, much like a burn on her neck.

  “Something on your mind, Danhoul?”

  “Nothin’ you’d care to hear. Nor did I want to hear what occurred in your room last night. The inn’s walls are thin. I suppose manhandling a woman is accepted in this century, but I didn’t think you’d permit it.”

  “It wasn’t manhandling, just rough sex born of desperation. Faolan and I are both acutely aware our time together will soon be over.”

  “Perhaps I should remind him as your guardian he’s to protect, not inflict harm,” Danhoul said.

  “Your concern’s duly noted but it’s none of your business,” Angelique said.

  “Fine, I’ll butt out…for now.”

  “I need to talk to Faolan alone,” Angelique said.

  “As you wish,” Danhoul quoted the famous line from The Princess Bride then left her.

  She followed Faolan down a rocky hillside path and found him in a small cemetery with only four graves. Faolan sat speaking aloud. Feeling she’d intruded, she stepped within the gorse bushes, but his words were carried on the wind.

  “How I wish for your counsel. I’m filled with uncertainty and fearfulness. I want her as I’ve never wanted anythin’ before. My ship, this life, all I’ve worked for and prided in seems nothin’ now. I’ve told her she’s cursed me but it seems the gods have cursed us both. Dyin’ in her arms would be the least tragic possibility. I’ve become someone I don’t recognize with my need for this beautiful woman. I know in my heart she’s mine—but I fear it won’t always be so.”

  Angelique was moved to tears by his deep emotion. Was he speaking to his dead wife? She didn’t sense her. But whose graves were they? She saw the lovely typical whitewashed Irish cottage beyond, the sea in view as well.

  A specter appeared before Angelique—elderly, not as his wife would have been. Faolan said his mother died young, too.

  “Go to him. He needs you, girl.”

  Angelique took a deep breath and came from where she’d been concealed. Faolan turned quickly, his hand on his sword. It was clear he was relieved it was her, yet embarrassed, too, for he looked away. She went to him, sat on the ground, grasped his strong hand in hers, caressing the raised callous on his palm caused by his sword.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted. I sensed your location and wanted to be alone with you.”

  “It’s me who must apologize, Angelique—for last night. I suppose it was a passion born of desperation, but I felt a man possessed with the need to consume you—to make you need me as I need you.”

  “I recognize your torment; I do need you, Faolan.”

  She glanced at the graves and squeezed his hand.

  “Your wife and child?”

  He shook his head.

  “My mother and her parents. They raised me.”

  “I didn’t know, Faolan. I should have asked more.”

  “When you inquired of family, I wasn’t forthcoming. I didn’t want to tell you more. I would’ve had to admit my father killed my mother.”

  “Oh, Faolan, my love, I’m so sorry. How? Why?”

  “He, too, was a ship’s captain. Away for a long while, he returned to find her heavily pregnant with another man’s child. In a jealous temper, he strangled her, though he didn’t know I saw. Then my grandfather—elderly, frail of body, with only one leg and typically a gentle man—somehow managed to run my father through with a sword, avenging his daughter’s death. I didn’t witness that, but Daideo admitted he couldn’t permit me to be raised by a man who’d hurt a woman.”

  “Oh, Faolan; how terrible for you!”

  “I’ve always sworn I’d never harm a woman and now I’ve hurt you, the woman I love more than anythin’ on earth,” he said gently grazing the red line on her neck.

  “A small unintentional mark is nothing.”

  “But I love and treasure you, Angel. I want to protect you always.”

  “I know, Faolan.” She kissed his hand.

  He inhaled deeply, driven to tears.

  “Where’s your wife buried?”

  “A truth also only partially revealed. She was from an affluent family. I was tryin’ to build my privateering business, attemptin’ to purchase a ship. Accustomed to life in Cork, she wasn’t content in the village. When Nola carried our child, she went to live with her parents. We were estranged when she died giving birth. Her mother later told me, Nola willed herself to die so she’d no longer b
e connected to me.”

  “Oh, Faolan, that was cruel and surely not true.”

  “It might’ve been true. Nola was unhappy when I told her I needed to continue privateering in order to better our situation. Our last meeting was a bitter disagreement.”

  “That’s why it displeased you when you thought I craved luxury and comfort.”

  “I suppose, although I didn’t intend for you to suffer because of my past.”

  “We all have baggage.” She sighed. “But there are four graves.”

  “Aye, one’s my buried treasure as you might say.”

  She only smiled. “Who’s cottage is this?”

  “Mine now. It’s where I was raised.”

  “Did you live here with your wife?”

  “It wouldn’t have met her expectations. My unrealistic dream was for you and me to live here, with children and a happy life.”

  “If we can find a way, I’d be happy here with you. Show me the cottage.”

  He seemed uncertain, but took her hand and helped her up. The walked the path lined with remnants of clover and wild flowers. It would be even more beautiful in spring and summer. He opened the cottage door and she smiled at the lovely warmth and coziness that enveloped them.

  “I have a woman come clean and keep it up, light the fire when I’m in port.”

  The turf fire roared welcomingly in the one large room. There was a table and four chairs, open shelves lined with dishes and knickknacks. A large black kettle hung over the fire. A bed with a rustic wooden headboard and worn patchwork quilt was in the corner. A ladder led to the open loft where Faolan likely slept as a child.

  Angelique looked out the window, reveling in the view of the sea and the lighthouse close by. She was immediately covered with goose bumps.

  “This is Mrs. Boyle’s, lighthouse, the one from my photos. That’s why you recognized it.”

  “Aye, I thought maybe it was a sign we should be together. My grandfather was the lighthouse keeper. I helped when I was younger.”

  “You actually own a freaking lighthouse?” she said and he nodded with a winsome smile.

  “A neighbor assists in lighting it but it’s mine. That’s where we met as children just beyond those jagged rocks.”

  “It is a sign, Faolan. We’ll face whatever we need to—gods, demons and the evil malevolence of this Dark Lord Odhran—so we can have this life together here.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to live here, Angel. It’s uncertain and…”

  “Is life ever certain, Faolan? Not for your mother, nor mine—not for either of my mothers. But I want this life with you and we will face whatever we must as long as we’re together.”

  “My angel,” he said taking her in his arms holding her so tightly, she gasped. He lowered his lips to hers in an enduring kiss, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  *

  “I’ll assign operations of the ship to Coates or Fitzsimmons maybe,” Faolan said caressing her hair. “I have ample coin and jewels stashed away.”

  “Faolan, you wouldn’t be content not sailing,” she said, their naked bodies entwined under the warm covers.

  “If we must fight in this predicted battle, it could be some time before I’d do any sailin’. I pray the gods will permit us to be together if I leave this dangerous life behind and commit solely to you. We’ll face one conundrum at a time.”

  “I do love this cottage, Faolan. I see echoes of happy times with your grandparents.”

  “They were elderly when they raised me. Daideo was a fisherman till his boat crashed upon rocks and he suffered the loss of his leg. Still he was a kind, patient man. I recall Maimeo’s twisted achy hands from a lifetime of hard work. She was stern, but had a soft spot for me.”

  “Her spirit told me to go to you. She still has a soft spot for you.”

  He only smiled.

  *

  Danhoul burned sage, smudging the ship’s cabin, and Angelique created spells to disallow seeing any more echoes. They were soon set to sail.

  Angelique gently grazed Faolan’s shoulder where the wound had been.

  “I admit, I miss the scar a little,” she said. “That’s the first time I touched you and knew I was incredibly attracted to you.”

  He smiled but seemed distracted.

  Angelique looked at the gun ports on Faolan’s ship, only six and the cannons were small.

  “Tell me of the night you were ambushed, hit over the head and stabbed?”

  “A ship approached waving the white flag, indicating they were peaceful. I permitted their captain and six others to board.”

  “How would seven men surround you and injure you if you have fifty in your crew?”

  “My memory’s hazy. Only a few crewmen were awake.”

  “That’s when they surprised you and surrounded you?”

  “Almost out of nowhere.”

  “Perhaps they had magic. Maybe they sided with Odhran and…”

  “But what would killin’ me matter to them?”

  “It might not, but it may matter to the gods. If you and I never met, I wouldn’t have defied them. Maybe this is all to keep us apart.”

  “But if our fates were already joined back when you were a wee girl and I a lad…”

  “I think this is something bigger, Faolan. Let me sail with you. If we both live through this, we’ll make a decision about whether you’re coming back to my time or I’m staying here until I’m needed by the gods.”

  “I don’t like it, Angelique, but I’ll trust your intuition.”

  *

  Angelique loved being out on the open sea. She stood at the bow with Faolan, saw the contented look on his face. She couldn’t take that from him. Yet, if she left him here in this time, he’d surely die a young man.

  “Do you have any notion how beautiful you are?” he said. “Your lovely hair, flawless skin, captivatin’ eyes, your lips practically beggin’ to be kissed. Even wrapped in your cloak you’re highly desirous. I feel under your spell.”

  “You think this isn’t actually love, but entrancement?”

  “You did pull me through time to be with you.”

  “Then who caused my entrancement?”

  “I don’t know, Angel.” He sounded as unsettled as she felt.

  “Maybe I could go back.”

  “To when you summoned me?”

  “Back to when we were children. Make certain you and I never meet.”

  He pulled her to him with an increasing desperation she felt, too.

  “Promise me you won’t consider that.”

  “I’ll make no promises, Faolan.”

  “You did make a promise,” he said turning over her palm.

  “We remember the vows, but if we’re back in time it hasn’t actually happened.”

  “Then why do we bear the scars?” he asked.

  “I don’t understand it or why I feel it burn when you’re near,” she said.

  “I do, too,” Faolan admitted. “You’ll always be mine, Angel. You can go back in time, change what you will, but in your heart, you know you’ll always be mine.”

  “And you mine.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  *

  With the ship anchored in a small cove off the Irish coast, Angelique and Faolan prepared for bed. Faolan was already naked when she removed her shift. Danhoul was playing lovely soothing music in the next cabin.

  “Dance with me,” Angelique said and Faolan smiled.

  “I’m no dancer, Angel.”

  “I don’t expect ballroom dancing. Just hold me, sway back and forth to the music.”

  He took her in his arms and pulled her close.

  “Holdin’ you when we’re unclothed, doesn’t usually involve swayin’,” he said.

  “A different kind of swaying, I suppose.”

  She felt his arousal against her as they slowly danced.

  “I love this song. It’s one of my favorites. It’s really sad though.
”

  “You seem drawn to sadness, Angel.”

  “‘The Water is Wide,’” she softly sang the song’s title and continued.

  “That is sad,” he said listening to the words of two lovers who couldn’t be together. “Let me take away this sadness.” He kissed her and she energetically leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  “A dance I’m unfamiliar with,” he jested.

  “I believe you’re familiar with it, Captain,” she said as she guided his firmness within her.

  *

  The following day, a British ship approached. It was a looming great vessel and Angelique shivered at seeing the many gun ports on the three levels of the ship. If there were the same number on the other side and each had a cannon, there were thirty. She inhaled, praying this ended well.

  She stayed inside the cabin. With the door slightly ajar she could mostly hear what was transpiring. Danhoul stood close enough he could make eye contact with her. Seven men boarded. By their clothes, they were clearly privateers, too.

  Faolan talked with the man who must be their captain. They nodded to each other. Not long after, they simply boarded their own ship and sailed away.

  “What happened?” she asked after Faolan spoke to Coates and a few of the other crew.

  “They only wanted to know where we’re headed and what we have on board. When I told him it’s mostly tea, they didn’t seem interested.”

  “Do you recall if they’re the men who hurt you before?”

  “It annoys the hell out of me, for I don’t remember.”

  “Probably the knock on the head especially if it caused a concussion. Although if it didn’t actually happen, how could you remember anyway? You said last time it happened after dark. Why not change course, double back or circle around? Would the ship you’re to meet wait?”

  “We’re a day late so it’s difficult to know. I suppose it’s worth a try if it avoids violence.”

  The concern in his pale blue eyes hadn’t abated and Angelique wished she could take it away. He kissed her before he went to speak to the men. Danhoul approached, worry on his face, too.

  “Somethin’ doesn’t feel right,” Danhoul said.