Celtic Storms (16 page)

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Authors: Delaney Rhodes

BOOK: Celtic Storms
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“I wa-warned ye, lass.”

A bevy of curses, the likes of which he had never heard, came spewing forth from her luscious pink mouth as she struggled, to no avail, to remove herself both from his grasp and the tub. She was soaked completely through and her thin linen shift left nothing for him to imagine. Her silk slippers held no grasp on the floor of the tub and the best she could do was turn completely backward from him and face the other direction; sitting back down on his chest with a load “swash.”

“Wh-why do you sit thus?” he asked, continuing his laughter.

“I am near to soaking through and unfortunately forgot my robe in my chamber. I fear I am next to naked.”

“Nay loovee, you are most d-de-definitely n-naked as far as I can tell.”

Darina scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest belligerently, as she pulled and fought with her soaking wet gown.

“Be a gentleman – won’t you?”

“Ye pierce m-me, my lady. I was but m-mi-minding my own b-business when ye c-came in here and assaulted m-my p-person,” he chided.

Even with her back turned completely to him, Patrick could see the heat rising up in her face. And – she could feel the heat rising in him.

“I am – I must return to my chambers.”

“Aye. ‘Tis a g-good idea,” he said.

“Won’t you please close your eyes and be a gentleman so that I may remove myself from this – uh – situation?” she whimpered.

“But of course, m-my lady,” he started to say as Odhran came charging through the door.

“What on god’s green earth are you doing Darina O’Malley?” queried Odhran at the site of her straddling his chest with her backside; seated upright in the tub on top of the new Laird. “You look like a drowned kitten,” he said.

“A c-cu-curious kitten, I’m afraid old ch-chap,” said Patrick. “It appears t-t-to m-me that she could not wait to m-ma-make my acquaintance,” he sputtered through halting laughter.

Odhran grabbed the laird’s robe from the peg aside the hearth and stomped towards Darina. “Now get yer soaking wet arse outta that tub there Darina a’for I call for yer aunt Atilde - she willna be happy w’dis at all.”

Patrick gulped back a breath in an attempt to contain his amusement and squelched a cringe making it obvious how humored he was by the situation.

“Don’t look now Odhran, turn your head,” she pleaded.

“Good lord lass, I’ve seen yer arse more times than I have my own wife’s. I did yer swaddling. Never mind now, let’s just git ye outta here a’for ye catch yer death.”

“I won’t l-lo-look,” said Patrick. “I p-pr-promise,” he continued as he firmly grabbed her hips with both hands and proceeded to lift her up out the tub. She slapped at his arms in mock anger and protestation, hoping it would save her dignity.

Don’t play coy with me ye little hellion. I know why you came in here. Pray tell you couldn’t wait ‘til tomorrow eve – when I’ve properly wed ye?


Hold your tongue,” she shot back over her shoulder as Odhran held out the robe for her and assisted her from the tub. She held her head high and pranced on as if she were a queen, unwilling to give the fiend the satisfaction of her embarrassment.

“What did you say?” asked Odhran.

“What?”

“Why did you tell me to hold me tongue? I said naught,” he replied.

Frustrated, Darina threw up her hands and whispered to Odhran, “just take me to my room please.”

Good night, my lady.

Good night indeed.

TWENTY – SEVEN
 

O’Malley Castle

 

Darina woke to an incessant knocking at her door. She quickly surveyed her room and realized it was well past sun up.
How long have I slept?
As she turned to grab her robe she realized it lay on the floor, still soaking wet. A flush rose to her cheeks as she remembered the events that had transpired the night before. She grinned.

“Darina O’Malley, open this door at once,” said her Aunt Atilde. “We have much to do this day and I don’t care to be kept waiting.”

“Hold on,” she replied as she rose and searched for her cloak which normally hung on a peg near the fire.
Jaysus
,
I left it downstairs
. Her hair was damp and unruly from her “bath” the night before and she didn’t feel like explaining the condition of her room.

“Whatever is so important that I must be disturbed in this manner?” she asked as she slung open the door to her chamber.

“Girl – don’t you speak to me that way. You know I haven’t the patience to tolerate one of your moods. Today you are to be wed and there is much to be done,” spewed her aunt as she careened into the room.

“Starting with this room,” said Odhran as he walked passed Atilde inside with no less than three servants. They quickly began gathering her things and packing her chests.

“What do you think you are doing, Odhran?” she asked over heavy lids that hadn’t quite awakened.

“Moving your things, Darina.”

“Moving them? Why?”

“Darina, your things are going upstairs to the master’s solar. Your room is being set up in the adjoining suite to the Laird’s. You are getting married,” Atilde cackled out loud. “Have ye forgotten?”

“Nay. I haven’t forgotten but why must it be done now?”

“The MacCahan requested thus. Braeden and his nurse, Mavis shall have your chamber now. We are bringing in an extra bed and setting up chests for them, over yonder,” pointed Ruarc who stood in the door way.

“You’re giving my room to that brute’s mistress and his bastard?” she asked stoically.

“Nay. M-Ma-Mavis ‘tis not me mistress and Br-Braeden is but me foster, but y-yes, they are to t-take this room,” said Patrick from behind Ruarc. Ruarc shot her a stern warning glance and turned to leave Patrick standing there staring at her, still clothed in but a thin shift. She recognized his voice but refused to look at him.

“Cold my l-lady?” he asked glancing at her pert nipples and chuckling before striding to the hearth and raising the fire. Servants continued to work feverishly packing her things and taking them down the hallway.

“Darina, won’t ye
please
put some clothes on?” gasped Atilde. Odhran turned and handed her a dry robe from one of her chests and sighed.

“I m-much prefer her th-this way,” laughed Patrick before heading towards the door.

Ruarc shot her a stern look once last time before heading towards the hallway. “We shall see you for the noon meal shortly?” he half asked half commanded before shutting the chamber door.

***

 

The stench was nearly unbearable - a mixture of sour ale and human waste that assaulted the senses. The pounding on the back of his head had not let up and he feared his ears would burst. His wrist ached and festered and although the bleeding had stopped hours before, he felt weak and knew he had lost too much blood.

“Where am I?” he asked the unresponsive dark.

He pulled his heavy hand to his head and realized he was chained to a stone wall. Turning to move, his legs sloshed through no less than two inches of putrid water.

“Shhh,” came the sound next to him. “Quiet.”

“Who’s there?” asked the priest.

“Quiet,” came the response. “Don’t make a sound, ye’ll wake the rats.”

“Rats?” he cried.

“Hush, mon. ‘Tis rained again and the rats are up higher in the rock. They won’t come down here lest ye make a noise.”

“Who are you?” he asked the voice.

“A prisoner like ye. Don’t you ken where ye are?”

He attempted to look about him but saw little. Although his eyes began to adjust to the dark, all he could make out were stone walls. “I’m not sure,” the priest responded.“Is this hell?”

“Close enough,” the chuckle rose and quickly became a hacking cough.“Ye be in the dungeons, a’neath the monastery. Ye are a Burke prisoner. Who are ye?” the voice whispered.

“Father MacArtrey from O’Malley lands.”

“A priest,” whispered the voice.

“How long have I been down here?” asked the Father.

“No more n’a day I suppose,” the voice responded. “But ye have slept near the entire time.”

“And you?”

“Nay – I haven’t been able to sleep,” replied the voice.

“How long have you been here?”

“A long time. I lost count I think. Might close to ten winters, I s’pose.”

“Shite,” the priest swore. “And what is your name?”

“Ah – I’m Cordal - Cordal McTierney.”

TWENTY – EIGHT
 

O’Malley Castle – The Great Hall

 

Darina took her time getting dressed for the noon meal. After all, she was no longer in her own chamber. Her belongings had been brought to the adjoining room of her father’s former solar. Everything was there, her two chests which contained her clothing and personal items. Her wall hangings, which were beautiful tapestries of sunsets and falcons, her red and gold settee lounge chair her father had gotten her for her birthday and the beautiful Indian rug her merchant friend Sanjay had given her as well. Even her weapons and shield were hung above the hearth and her writing utensils sat on the corner table near the window.

Indeed, everything was there. Everything except her bed.

“A might presumptuous of him isn’t it?” she muttered softly.

“What did ye say dear?” asked her aunt Atilde who was putting the finishing touches on her hair.

“I asked where my bed was” she replied.

Atilde laughed a hearty laugh and straightened the O’Malley clan brooch upon her shoulder where she had clasped the plaid. The brooch was a fine and intricate piece of work. A regal looking dragon with eyes of red rubies surrounded by a sun made of amber and a moon of sapphire centered upon a circular crest of mistletoe.

“My dear, ye’ve no need of a bed of your own, you are geeting mewried t’day.”

“Then am I to be forced to share
his
bed?”

Nay
.

“What did you say?” asked Darina.

“Naught,” replied her aunt shaking her head.

I’ll nay force ye. But ye shall – just the same.

A flush rose over Darina’s face and she clenched her fists tightly.

“Get out of my head!” she shouted.

Atilde turned her by the arms to look her straight in the eyes. “What on earth is wrong with you? Had you too much wine last eve?”

“Nay.”

“Darina, I ken you are a wee bit anxious me dearie, but ye must get ahold’a yerself.”

Darina hung her head and nodded her acknowledgement.

“All done. Now come on down to the hall and break yer fast with the rest‘a us. I’m sure yer betrothed wishes to get a good look at ye. What a mighty fine bride ye’ll make me dearie, yer mam would be so proud of ye.”

Atilde gathered her satchel and headed towards the door. “Aye. I’ll be down in a moment,” she said and caught a glimpse of herself in the looking glass.

Beautiful
.

“I know you can’t see meso stay out of my head I said,” she spoke to the air around her.

“I can see you fine my sister, and I assure you I am not in your head,” said Dervilla from the doorway that lead from the main solar to the adjoining sitting room now occupied by Darina’s belongings.

“What’s wrong with you anyhow? You are behaving most peculiarly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Wedding jitters then?”

“Nay. I don’t have any jitters to speak of Dervilla,” responded Darina straightening her plaid and picking at her hair.

“Something’s amiss here. Let me see – something is missing. What could it be?” she asked walking around the room. “I know,” she turned and faced Darina.

“What?” responded Darina rolling her eyes.

“The bed,” responded Dervilla erupting with wicked laughter.

“Ha. Ha. Aren’t you the funny one, Dervilla?” she said.

“So – tell me what he looks like,” whispered Dervilla. “Go on – is he handsome?”

“I have no idea.”

“What? You haven’t met him yet?”

“Not really.”

“What does that mean? I heard there was an incident last night,” said Dervilla openly picking at her.

Darina clenched her fist and ground her teeth. “By the goddess! Who told you?”

Dervilla could not contain her amusement and doubled over with laughter. When she had finally contained herself, she rose and faced Darina.

“You mean to say ye bathed with the man, who was no doubt naked as the day he was born, yet ye don’t know what he looks like?”

“I did’na bathe with him! I simply went into the solar to see what all the fuss was about and he was asleep in the tub with a cloth over his face. I saw his long hair dripping over the tub. I could see that he was a very large – I mean –a tall person and when I reached to remove the cloth over his face – I tripped.”

“And fell into the tub?”

“Yes – I fell into the tub. But I kept my eyes closed and then I turned around so as not to permit him to see my wet – form.”

“Your wet form?”

“Yes. All I had on was me shift.”

Dervilla’s face turned four shades of purple. “You sat on him? With your back turned to him? By the stars! That is the funniest thing I have ever heard. Are ye sure ye didn’t take just a little peek?”

“Yes I’m sure. Besides Odhran came in to assist me out of the tub; I mean the situation, and I returned to my room.”

“Did ye anger him?”

“Perhaps.”

Nay
.

“Stop it,” said Darina.

“Stop what?” asked Dervilla.

“Nothing.”

“Darina – who are ye talking to? Ye’ve been talking to yourself for a few days now and I fear ye’ve gone mad.”

“No one. I must be hearing things.”

“What are ye hearing sister?”

“Someone, speaking in my head. Like ye do sometimes.”

“Well – it’s not me.”

“I know that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s not your voice Dervilla.”

“Whose voice is it Darina?” Dervilla asked nervously.

Darina’s cheeks flushed and turned away from Dervilla as if she were working on tidying up.

“Darina.”

Silence.

“Darina! I asked ye a question. Whose voice is it?”

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