The Darkness Within 4

“Eochaidh, what has come over you? You are ill?!”
Eochaidh stepped away from Aimili and attempted to shrug off any display of concern.
“I am fine.”
“Are you sure?” Aimili questioned aggressively.
“Absolutely!” Eochaidh retorted with some disgust building in his voice. “I am going to my room.”
Eochaidh stumbled and stormed off to his room and slammed the door.
Aimili’s eyes swelled with tears as she watched Eochaidh storm away into his room. Deep in her heart she never meant to upset him, but the sight of him so sickly threw her into a fit of nervousness. Aimili turned to Tory and demanded to know what lead up to his return in such a state.
“Where did you go?”
“We walked through town and down to the Manor and on the way back he got sick.”
“What happened?”
“He just asked me who lived at the manor and I told him Lord Padraig and Caristiona.”
“Are you lying to me boy?”
“No ma’am. That is all that happened. When I saw he was getting sick I pulled him back home because I...”
“Go clean out the chicken coop! And I mean clean it. I walked in there this morning and it smelled like you hadn’t cleaned it in many moons.”
“But, what about Eochaidh?”
“I will handle Eochaidh - you do as I told you. NOW!”
Aimili’s anger was boiling over with the added fear that she could loose Eochaidh to some sudden unknown affliction. Her heart raced as she walked into the kitchen and served a bowl of stew and walked it over to the door leading into his room.
Balancing the bowl in one hand she gingerly knocked at the door.
“Eochaidh, I have food here that might make you feel better.”
“I am not hungry. I don’t think my stomach could hold it.” He called back without maKing a move towards the door.
“Eochaidh, I wish you would at least try.”
She heard Eochaidh’s footsteps behind the door and his hand fumbling with the latch to unlock it. As it slowly opened, she saw him turn and walk back to the bed again. She pushed her hip into the door and opened it wide enough for her to walk in with the bowl of food.
“Eochaidh, you look as white as that sheepskin. What happened out there?”
Eochaidh collapsed into the bed again curled up under the sheepskin blanket and shivering violently.
“Aimili, nothing happened as such. I just don’t feel well. Please, leave the food and leave me alone. I will eat it if I can. I appreciate you concern, but I just want to be left alone.”
Aimili set the bowl on a small ramshackle table near the bed.
“Whatever Tory did, he is being punished. He is cleaning the chicken coop, and I will make sure he doesn’t bother you the rest of the day.”
Aimili’s tears were brimming at the surface ready to rush over the wall of self will holding them back. She did not want to show Eochaidh how much she was hurt by his actions. She stood still and stared at him in dumbfounded silence, surprised he could be so distant from her.
“Tory did nothing. Aimili, you are much too hard on that boy. You are going to make him hate you as much as I hate my family when they ran me out of our home. I don’t want to see that for either of you. You have lost his father, Tory is all you have!”
Aimili walked out of the room before Eochaidh could see her crying and pulled the door shut. She left her hand resting against the wooden door and quietly muttered under her breath, “If only you knew”.


Chapter ???
First Savior
“Lady Caristiona, I regretted the situation of your beloved husband’s death.”
The steel gray and white eyes pierced through her heart as quickly as the words did.
“No.” The words came like a whisper out of her mouth.
“No! Padraig is not dead!”
“My dear lady, it has been 4 moons and more and he has not returned. How long do you feel you must wait? We have since placed his spirit in the mausoleum. You keep him from his eternal rest. Let him go.”
“No. If I have faith, he will return to me.”
A knotted hand reached out from under a dark maroon and black cloak and touched Caristiona’s arm.
Caristiona’s mind flashed and her body shuddered with memories. Memories of the one time she fell into the arms of another man bombarded her mind as she tried to grapple with the idea that her beloved would not return in her heart. Flashes of thoughts not yet true sparked in between her memories. Flashes of her union with Calbhach, the collapse of the manor, all of the images were horribly destructive. She pulled her arm away from Calbhach’s touch and ran through the room. She grabbed the rings at waist level attached to the doors and flung both doors wide open.
“These doors will not close until my beloved returns.” She looked around the room at the dumbfounded attendants standing idly by. “Do you understand?!” Her demands came at gravely whispers but the attendants knew better than to cross her. They lowered their heads in acknowledgement and she tore out of the manor through the doors.
Caristiona stopped in the center of the courtyard and looked out at the portcullis. Seeing there were two people out there, she ran across the courtyard trying not to be seen.
Running at her top speed through the overgrown grass and ill kept garden she came to the crest of a hill. Using every ounce of energy within her she ran full speed down the hill. LooKing down the remaining distance she saw what she never thought she would have to look at. The mausoleum of her husband stood glowing from the sun glinting off the white marble structure. She walked slowly to it, still fighting with the idea of him being gone.
“Why wouldn’t you listen to me? Why did you have to leave? It isn’t our war, why did you have to go fight there, and now of all times - when I need you most.” She fell to her knees outside the doors and the tears started to cut down her cheeks. “Maybe it is just as well. Maybe it was meant to be this way.” She doubled over and slammed her fist onto the hard ground. “I Curse the gods. I Curse them all for taKing you away from me. This isn’t how it was supposed to be!” She scrambled to get up and pulled open the heavy door to the mausoleum. “There lies a figure of you, but your spirit is not here. I don’t feel it. How can you be dead if I don’t feel your spirit in your permanent resting place?” She stumbled over to the stone sculpture of Padraig. Collapsing across the feet of it she broke down and bawled.
Calbhach stood at the front entry way where Caristiona had left from and looked out across the courtyard at the portcullis. From 300 feet away he heard clearly what was being said.
“Why does she act this way?”
“No one knows. But I tell you, they say she has been bewitched by the spirit of her husband and he forces her to await his arrival home.”
Calbhach grinned slightly. The whole town thought Caristiona was insane, and that only made his job that much easier. No one would have anything to do with her if she started screaming for help. It was an excellent situation. All he had to do was deal with the interloper. He couldn’t have one measly man mess up his entire life’s work, or his chances at success.
Calbhach raised a knotted hand in the air and closed his eyes. Drawing a deep breath he drew the energy from Eochaidh into himself, allowing him to shape shift to his form. The energy reversed his cavernous wrinkles and colored his white hair to dusty strawberry blonde and the tendrils drew up to thick ringlet curls. His body became strong and healthy, and the skin tone became a porcelain color. When he exhaled, and opened his eyes, the only thing he had not been able to change was the wicked white steel gray eyes to the hazel mixture of green, blue, and brown. Everything else was a perfect image of Eochaidh. Calbhach opened his left hand and a red fire energy exploded into the palm of his hand. He threw the ball of energy at his feet and felt a sucKing sensation as he is pulled into a mirror alternate reality. The colors were extremely vivid, but the complement to what was the case in reality. The sun loomed extremely close and large while the winds were extremely violent. He walked without pain to the mausoleum. With his right hand he generated a yellow energy and threw it at his feet again. His ears rang loudly as he was forcefully pulled back into reality. He stood at Caristiona’s feet as she wailed in her agony.
“Why do I have to exist alone? What could I have possibly done to cause you to want to leave so badly? Where are you?”
Calbhach felt something stir within him that had been dead for many years. Brushing it off, and keeping his resolve to complete his task at hand. He knelt down beside her quivering and lifeless body and reached out to touch her arm. Caristiona jolted upright in shock. The redness in her cheeks quickly sank away and her whole face went pale.
“What are you doing here?”
Caristiona gasped as she scrambled backwards trying to gain her footing in case she had to defend herself. The falsified Eochaidh pursued her undaunted, constantly pushing the envelope and keeping Caristiona off balance. Eventually he had backed her up to the cold marble wall which she used to pull herself to her feet.
“I only came to see you my fair lady, to ease the pain you wallow in.”
“How did you get in here? What are my guards doing?”
Calbhach thought to himself as a smile spread across his face, “This is easier than I had thought it would be.”
Caristiona’s voice finally said something with authority above the constant rough whisper that she had be communicating with. “Leave me alone! Go AWAY! BE GONE!” Calbhach was surprised when she yelled forcefully, but he continued the hunt. Caristiona was like a helpless mouse within the serpent’s jaws.
“My sweet lady, come into my arms and let me ease your pain...”
Calbhach roughly grabbed for Caristiona, but she slipped out of the grip before it closed in around her. Caristiona ran out of the mausoleum without looKing back headed towards the huge doors she had ordered to remain open until Padraig returned. She called out as she ran away “póg mo thón”
Calbhach muttered after her under his breath “Is dócha nach bhfuil seans ar bith ann.”
Calbhach stood in the center of the mausoleum and laughed heartily. With his concentration broken his original form returned, and his knotted, gray, painful figure slowly made its way to the mausoleum door.
“I only have 5 moons until my transmortification is complete.”
Eochaidh sat up in bed with a jolt. His stomach had stopped turning and his sweats and chills instantly were relieved. Pushing the sheepskin blanket aside he picked up the bowl that had been sitting on the table next to him the whole time he slept. The soup had turned cold and thick. He tried to stir it and found it much too distasteful at the present temperature to eat. He stood and walked without stumbling to the door.
The door opened and Aimili saw Eochaidh emerge as if nothing had happened. He walked over to the bar and set the bowl down gently on the table.
“Aimili, I appreciate your desire to care for me and I sincerely apologize for the scare I brought on you. For some reason I am suddenly feeling better, and would really like to have a warm bowl of your delicious stew instead of this cold one.”
“Certainly, let me get you a fresh bowl.”
Aimili picked up the bowl Eochaidh had set down and poured in a bucket of dregs and garbage for the slop for the hogs.
She wiped it clean with a rag that she kept near the bucket and went over to her large pot. With a large spoon she stirred the hot concoction and walked it back to Eochaidh. She tore off a piece of thick bread from a loaf and gave both to Eochaidh with a generous and endearing smile.
Aimili couldn’t help but smile at Eochaidh. She knew in her heart that if Eochaidh would ever settle down with her permanently she could take care of him like he deserved. She also knew his heart was in his travels, not in settling down permanently. She always treasured the night they had together one time almost 9 years ago when she found out her husband had died in battle under Padraig. Her heart had been crushed and Eochaidh was so charming, she fell into his arms in a desperate attempt to feel life and love amidst such pain surrounding her. That one night had been enough to carry her this far. Being able to see him on occasion as he passed through her town was a blessing, but painful as well. She never felt he remembered the night, or had any clue of the outcome that fell from it.
Eochaidh leaned over the bar and kissed Aimili’s cheek sweetly.
“Thank you my dear”
Aimili instantly blushed but turned away from Eochaidh quickly with a suspicious giggle. Feeling lighter than air she reeled around and walked to the entrance of the Tavern. Leaning her head out the door she called to Tory.
“Tory, come in please. Eochaidh is much better now.”
There was no response from her son.
“Tory! Come in!”
Still no response and no sign of Tory could be seen.
Aimili began to get panic stricken.
“Toirdhealbhach!” She screamed out into the bustling market place.


Chapter ???
Prodigal Return
Padraig stood on top of a waste scattered hill, carrying a rusting sword in his right hand and a battlement flag in his left. He used the pole to lean against with his tired war worn body aching from the cold and his heart aching from the distance from his beautiful wife. He could only imagine how she must be feeling alone and obviously upset at the current situation. She had not wanted him to go, but what wife of decency would have. She begged him to remain home, and now, having lost almost all his army to a war that seemed impossible to win he wished he had. From some distance behind him, a voice wiped out to a whisper screeched as loud as he could and called to his mighty leader. Padraig turned around and saw his captain Aodh leading his horse Cormag up the hill he had topped to see what was ahead. Cormag seeing his owner called out with a shrill endless squeal. Aodh limped as fast as possible as the horse began prancing and pawing the ground to get to his master. At the top of the hill Aodh and Cormag stopped. Padraig looked out across a wasteland. Bodies were scattered and defiled as the wretched and needless loss of life put out such a stench that the death and burning flesh was overpowered. The air smelled of spilt blood, sweat, mist, fire, and defeat. Aodh broke the silence handing off the reins to his leader, “Your horse sire.”
Suddenly from out of the darkened swirling mists whistled an arrow that found its target perfectly through Aodh’s heart. The body collapsed instantly. Padraig threw down the flag, swung up on his horse, and swinging his sword over his head, called out the miniscule army that was left.
“Men, we fight! Die with glory!”
Padraig turned his horse and charged down the hill. A rush was heard as the thundering hooves of the remaining men gained speed and followed their beloved leader.
Padraig held his sword high in the air as the blade cut through the wind and whistled against the rush of air. “Fight for your home! Fight for your honor! Fight for your family!”
The men screamed, growled, and emitted sounds from their mouths that were guttural and fierce. The tiny force came to face a vast and overwhelmingly powerful army. Padraig’s army halted short of facing the vastly more powerful force head on.
A man in a cloak with walked forward as all the army in front of him parted allowing his free access to the opposing army. The cloak was dark blue and maroon with blood soaked hem. The hood was worn low over the eyes and no part of his face could be made out clearly. A voice spoke with authority as he began maKing demands of Padraig and his army.
“Who is the supposed leader of this rabble ill trained group?”
Padraig cued his horse forward.
“I lead this army of the finest men in the country east of Léim an Eich and seated in Baile Átha an Urchair. Just who are you to be maKing demands on myself and my honorable army?”
“I am the only way you will make your way home. I have a proposition for you, great leader.” The tone of sarcasm was impossible to miss in his statement. “I propose to you a way you can return home to your lovely manor and wife.”
The cloaked figure paused for a response from Padraig.
“Go on.” Padraig wanted to hear more, but wished not to expose his deep desires to return because it would show weakness to his enemy.
“It is obvious your army has no chance against mine. I propose you and I face each other one on one. You win, you return home, but your men die. I win and all of you die.”
Padraig turned to face the men that had served with him valiantly and with great self sacrifice. He whispered to his lieutenant who took his place next to him upon Aodh’s death.
“Tell the men I will not strand them here. I will find a way to return everyone home.”
The lieutenant turned and began spreading the word to the miniscule forces standing behind their leader.
Padraig faced the cloaked man.
“I accept your challenge.”
“Very well!” The cloaked man raised a hand into the air and a single gloved finger protruded from the sleeve. The army behind him grew excited and charged, rushing on to the unsuspecting force. Unprepared for the charge they were struck down with little retaliation.
Padraig grew extremely angry at he cloaked man’s actions. He swung his sword and struck down the cloaked man without a second thought. Before the figure fell to the ground Padraig readied himself to defend against the army that followed the cloaked figure. As the cloaked figure collapsed the scene started washing with a bright white light which blinded Padraig temporarily.
The scene surrounding him grew silent. The image started to fade and be replaced with a more serene image of the woodlands bordering on the town of Cillchullan. Wearily the leader walked his horse down the dirt path into the town and through the square and the market place.
People stopped all activity to watch the man as he slowly made his way back to his manor. Children ran to his side and followed along to see up close the image of their long missing leader. When people stopped in his path he just pressed on, the massiveness of his charger gently moved them out of his way. One thing rested on his mind and that was returning home and seeing his wife he had been missing for nearly 5 moons.
Once he could see the manor house at the end of the road and so close, he paused a moment. Tory in a flat out run cut in front of his path without noticing who he was. He raised his hand to his forehead and wiped a swath of drying blood from it.
He restarted the trek up to the iron portcullis of his home, with armor squeaKing and creaKing, and his body weary from battle.
He walked his horse up to the portcullis and he laid a hand on the iron cross beam. The grounds were dilapidated, the garden overgrown, the building crumbling, and all around the once beautiful home was despair.
“Open these gates at once!” His powerful and authoritative voice boomed through the courtyard.
There was no response for a moment. Instead a lone figure peeked out the great open doorway and looked towards the portcullis.
“As your Lord and Commander I order you to open these gates!”
The lone figure darted back into the house and more time passed.
“I have returned home from protecting this land and... ”
Padraig’s statement was cut short as he looked upon Caristiona standing in the gaping doorway.
“Caristiona! Have them open the gates immediately!”
Caristiona and two servants ran across the overgrown courtyard to the portcullis.
“I knew you would return to me if I just had faith!” Caristiona cried out while she ran towards her beloved husband. She stopped a short distance away from the gate.
The two servants past Caristiona up as they ran to either side of the portcullis and pulled two chains down on either side of the gate. The gate slowly rose up and as soon as it was high enough to slide under Padraig dismounted and ducked under the spiked gates and entered the court yard. Caristiona’s eyes welled up with tears as she ran into his waiting arms.
“What has happened here? You have let the servants fall behind on their work!”
The servant to the left of the gate ran out and grabbed Cormag’s lead and pulled him inside the walls.
“Padraig, I was told you died! I didn’t know what to believe!”
Caristiona tried to kiss Padraig but he pulled away and began walKing over the cresting hill.
“What is this?” he demanded questioningly as he pointed at the mausoleum at the bottom of the hill.
Padraig’s face turned red as he knew exactly what it was. He was looKing down on proof that his beloved wife had lost faith in his return from battle. He turned back to look at the woman who was supposed to believe in his ability and desire to return to her above everything.
Caristiona was collapsed to her knees and sobbing into her hands.
“I ... I didn’t know what to do ... You were gone ... so very long. Everyone said ... you were dead. I couldn’t let your spirit ... wander ... endlessly.”
“You should have had faith!”
Padraig stormed past her, his body full of adrenalin from his anger at his weak hearted wife.
“Padraig ...”
Padraig turned to face the woman who was scrambling to stand and catch up with him.
“How are the people supposed to hold onto the faith if you can’t?”
Caristiona lowered her eyes to the ground.
“You are right my love.”
“Don’t call me that! You can not call me that without having faith in me!”
Padraig spun around on his heels and stomped into the entryway of the manor house.
The servant walked the horse to the stable behind the manor house.
Caristiona ran to keep up. Padraig was much taller than her and his stride was much longer, especially when he was angry. He used this to his advantage to keep some distance between him and his wife. The slamming of his armored footsteps echoed in the stone corridor.
The echoing footsteps caused Calbhach to sit-up in the witches cradle. It always took some time for him to recuperate from his meditations, but this was an extended period. His side ached terribly and made it more difficult to move than usual. He pulled the lever releasing the pulley system, untied the rope and lowered himself to the floor.
Struggling to stand Calbhach waved a hand through the air, creating his normal standby mirror out of one of the stone walls. He looked his body over and found a large gash in his side from a fight. He reached for a poultice in a clay bowl and packed the wound carefully. He was very weak from a great deal of blood loss and had to sit before he could dress.
Tory ran across the small field before the edge of the woods and stopped short of entering. Eochaidh had told him tales of ghosts and witches that lived in the unsettled parts of Cillchullan.
Eochaidh ran up behind Tory out of breath.
“I thought I would find you here!”
Tory spun around started that Eochaidh was speaKing to him.
“Yeah? And what of it?”
Eochaidh looked Tory square in the eyes.
“What are you doing? Your mother is worried sick about you. She tried to call you in to talk to you.”
“I am not going back. I am nearly 9 years old. It is time for me to find my own way. I want to be a bard and minstrel just like you.”
“Tory. My life is not all it seems to be. It gets cold when you sleep on the road alone. It is dangerous cause there are bandits that can steal all your money. You do have money right?”
Tory slowly shook his head no.
“And when it rains sometimes you can’t find a place to stay and you and your horse stink. You do have a horse right?”
Tory looked at Eochaidh in disgust.
“No.”
“Then when you do find a place to stay, you have no friends, no one you can talk to, because you have no money, and you stink like a horse. Do you want to live like that?”
“Well, then I can stay here until you leave and I can go with you, that way you always have a friend and I always have money!”
Tory was proud of his solution and he thought Eochaidh would have to accept his offer.
Eochaidh tried hard not to let Tory see him smile.
“I can’t do that. Your mother would die of heartbreak if I took you away from her like that - and you know I have to keep Aimili happy. It is my only free food and free stay in all of Ireland.”
Tory’s smile melted.
“Let me tell you a story about The Sea Maiden.”
Eochaidh sat on the ground near Tory as the sun began it’s slow decent in the sky. Eochaidh began weaving a tale so descriptive, Tory felt as though he was living it himself.
***********
“I think we should get back and let your mom know you are safe.”
“NO!”
Tory squatted down and planted himself on the ground as he prepared to have the make a scene.
“OK. But your mom has made some really nice food for you and me. I guess I am just going to eat it all myself.”
Eochaidh turned and walked away towards the Moruadh and left Tory to himself and his thoughts.
None of this had gone like Tory wanted. He definitely was hungry, but he didn’t want to come crawling back to his mom after she had been so mean to him. He knew Eochaidh was serious about the dangers and misgivings of the minstrel’s life, if only because he knew Eochaidh wouldn’t lie to him. Tory stood up. Slowly he began walKing back home to the Moruadh, knowing full well he was going to get the biggest whipping of his life when he got there.


Chapter ???
Love Conquers All
“I can’t believe you lost faith in me. The people depended on you to have faith that I would return. These grounds are so damaged, I don’t know if they will ever be back to their glorious days again. I just don’t know what came over you.”
Caristiona held her gaze low and stood at the edge of the parapet in a empire-waist gown to try to hide the pregnancy that was beginning to show from her husband. The fullness of the skirt slowly billowed in the wind. Her back was turned to the man she had missed so much. The tears were begging for release, but she was concentrating on staying strong.
“I had no choice Padraig. I truly didn’t. If you had died and I did nothing to give your spirit and memory rest you would have haunted me every day of my life, and the people would never have closure. They would always look for you to return and you wouldn’t. Eventually all of our lands would fall victim to my unwillingness to let you die. Yet, now that I made a choice to allow the people some closure, to allow me a place where I could still be close to you, you are haunting me with your anger. I had no choice.”
“You should have had faith. All of my men died in defense of you and this land and you lost faith in them.”
Caristiona spun around and faced the man who wouldn’t give up on the accusations.
“I asked you not to go. I told you I needed you here. You have no idea what I went through. I held out hope. I believed you would return. Still, I couldn’t be stupid about it. You were gone for nearly 5 moons.”
A wind picked up and blew her dress against her body and her right leg. The pregnancy was openly apparent as the skirt clung close to her torso.
“For more than four moons I thought I was alone forever, and would have to raise our child without your help. I asked you not to leave.”
Padraig moved towards her and she turned away in disgust.
His voice was broken as he spoke to her again.
“I did not know you were with child Caristiona. Why did you not tell me?”
“I wanted you to stay for me, not the child” she retorted quickly.
Padraig walked close to her and brushed her hair from her neck.
“That was unfair Caristiona. You should have told me.”
Padraig brushed his lips across her neck as he moved closer to her. Caristiona closed her eyes and furrowed her brow as she knew he still didn’t have the whole truth about the situation.
“Yes, but it would have been unfair to me for your to stay for a child not even born yet and not for me.”
Padraig scooped her up off her feet into his arms and walked off the parapet into the manor. He entered the private room of Caristiona and set her down on the foot of her bed. He dragged a heavy chair over and sat down infront of her.
“You knew you were pregnant before I left?”
“Yes.”
She turned her gaze away and looked at the tapestries hanging on the wall, the floor, the linens, anything to not hold his gaze as he stared intently at her.
“How long have you been pregnant?”
“Almost 5 moons.”
She ran her fingers over the brocade pattern on the spread next to her hip still refusing to look at Padraig.
“And you have been taKing care of yourself while I was away.”
Caristiona shot a angry glance at Padraig at his asinine question.
“At first I probably didn’t because I didn’t understand why you would leave even when I asked, no begged you to stay with me. I told you I had my reasons, but that you should stay out of love for me. Then eventually I decided, no matter how much pain I felt to loose the child, the only thing I had left to cherish you through would be worse and so I tried to take care of myself.”
“Who knows you are with child?”
“You, Me, and the attendants to the house I guess. I stopped going outside when the condition started showing.”
She looked at the floor again.
Padraig raised a hand gently to her face. He lifted her chin with two fingers and kissed her softly. Caristiona pulled away.
“I can’t trust that what you are reacting to is not the baby. How can I believe you want to kiss me when I tried to kiss you when you returned and you pulled away from me? Now you want me to kiss you?”
Padraig whispered, “I am sorry. I am still hurt, but I am no longer angry. We need to come to an understanding and then let it die, for the sake of the child.”
Padraig placed his palm against her belly and kissed her again.
Calbhach revives after a meditation and writed in Journal that he attained the Anupadaka plane the second highest level of meditiation. (from Chakra website.) and describes the plane and how to get there.
Tory entered the Tavern and Aimili ran to his side. Tory cowered away from her as she grabbed him up off the floor and held him close to her.
“I am so glad you’re back and safe.”
Tory was silent. He looked up from his mother’s shoulder at Eochaidh who grinned beamingly at the pair. Tory closed his eyes, laid his head on her shoulder, and hugged her back.
After a long moment of gushing attention on her son, Aimili set him down and then barraged him with angry questions.
“Why did you do that? Where have you been? What did you think you were going to do? How could you scare me like that? Do you know I thought you were gone forever?”
Eochaidh stepped up in between Aimili and Tory before she got another one out.
“Aimili, first of all, give him a chance to speak. Second of all, I warned you. He is angry at you for that kind of treatment. You need to let off him a little every once in a while.”
Aimili looked at Eochaidh hurt and weepy.
“Oh, if only you knew!”
She turned and left the both of them standing there dumbfounded.
Eochaidh hugged Tory.
“Take me with you! I want to go!”
“I can’t do that. You need to stay and take care of your mother. I will be back soon. You know that!”
Eochaidh left the Tavern and pulled Daithi out of the stall and walks down road.
Aimili runs back in to apologize and finds Eochaidh gone.
“Where is he?” she asked as Tory stood in the doorway.
“He left.”
Aimili breaks into tears as she realized her temper caused him to leave without saying goodbye to her.


Chapter ???
Proclamation of Incantations

2009

The dawn was being pierced by the staccato beats of the calls of animals.  To someone who had worked so hard to be here at this time, in this moment, it was a glorious gift every morning. The clouds and the rising sun cast a glorious pink and golden shimmer across the increasingly lightening sky.  The crisp fall air slowly swirling over the frosty dew on the ground produced a low mystic fog that seemed to churn and bubble like dry ice dropped in water.  The tanks were so full of it that the gray substance poured over the sides and filled the pastures and paddocks.  The rising sun cast a pale glimmer of gold in threads and scattered dapples across the fog in near reflections of the sky.  This was her favorite season and job of the day because it filled her senses to the brim and made her feel alive.

There were two jobs that had to be done, feed the animals and feed her guests.  Knowing it was much too early to prepare breakfast for her guests, she began getting dressed to feed her animals.  She pulled on a pair of black boots, black jeans, and a white tank top.  Ritualistically she began combing through her hair that reached just below her knees.  Her mind wandered as she thought about her reasons for growing her hair so long.  She knew exactly what they were – Martin.  Martin liked long hair, and he liked her hair long.  She didn’t so much as trim it in the short time of their whirlwind romance, engagement, and marriage.  She grew to like it too.  There was something about it that made her feel so sensual, beautiful, and alluring.  Maybe it was the idea of it blowing in a gentle breeze in complete contrast of her horses mane and tail while she rode inspecting the property.  “Oh, who knows why it is… it just is” she also ended this thought to her self.  It was a struggle to care for, maintain, and keep.  Still at this time of year she was thankful to have it, and she couldn’t entertain the thought of cutting it – at least nit yet.  Her late husband loved it, and to cut it would be to deny him something as he looked down on her from heaven.  In the darkness the plodding sound of her boots against the hardwood floor as she walked across her bedroom was deafening.  She reached for a jacket, then decided against it and instead grabbed a black flannel long sleeve shirt.  Throwing it around her shoulders she tied it in a square knot around her waist.  She flipped her hair out of the neckline and walked to the French doors leading to the veranda.

It was amazing how little light it took to illuminate the ranch at this hour.  She craved chances to see nature like this.  It felt like a testament to all her beliefs and that all was right with the world.  No matter what was wrong she could come out on a morning like this and feel at one with the completeness and perfection of it all.  She found the whole prospect of what she looked out on during morning pauses such as this to be integral to her self-happiness.  A song bubbled to the surface as she started down the staircase to reach the lawn below.

The pastures all having been perfectly manicured exuded the clean smell of fresh cut grass and the morning glories that trail across all the white fences surrounding each pasture are beginning to open under the rising sun. The sun’s light crept slowly across the lawn and began encouraging other things to open.  The lawn had irises that bloomed in the fall bursting at the seams and the fountain in the circle drive could be heard gurgling.  She took a deep breath through her nose, filling her lungs to capacity with the clean and fresh air as she reached the bottom of the stairs.  She hummed the song that spins through her mind as she began walKing in the crisp breeze.  A flash of red and black can just barely be made out as she moves through the early morning shadows to the barn.

She was very comfortable in this role.  She knew exactly what was expected of her and exactly how to do it.  It was what would come later that threw her off her game.  Her tension quickly passed as she hummed the simple tune and reached the barn entrance.  The creaKing of the pulley wheels straining as the big sliding door on the front of the barn is opened can be heard piercing the relative silence in the solitude of the immense countryside.  The sound startled to wake any animals that had not already awoken on their own.  She instinctively walked into the entrance and began her ritual routine.

This morning is a surprisingly but refreshingly cool morning, and the day appears to be shaping up beautifully.  WalKing into the barn a new but familiar scent pervades the visitor’s nose.  The smell of grain, hay, and manure fills the barn.  The visitor quickly puts a few twists into her long red hair, and clips it up against her head.  She stands there a moment looKing around and taKing in the sights and sounds.  “Today I must just keep my composure.  No nerves - just get through your day and tomorrow it will all be over.”  She turns to the right and opens a closet where a wheelbarrow and some tall trashcans are being stored.  There is no smell of trash, just the sweet smell of molasses, corn, oats, and supplements.  She opens a can near the door and grabs up a bright pink scoop and begins dumping great gobs of grain into the wheelbarrow.  Once forty or fifty scoops are put into the wheelbarrow she drops the pink scoop into the wheelbarrow and backs it out of the closet.  She turns the wheelbarrow to the right and starts down one side of the barn.  As the animals see her coming with their feed the excitement level increases.  More knickers, whinnies, and some kicKing impatiently at the feed buckets inside they wait not so patiently for the food to be delivered.  One by one each stall door is opened, a scoop and a half of feed dumped in each feed bucket, and the door is closed as she moves on to the next one.

Eventually in the relative silence the words to the song she had been humming broke past her lips.
Somewhere out on the prairie
Is the greatest cowboy that’s ever been
And when he lays his hands upon the ponies
They shudder with an understanding skin

She opened the door to a stall that was labeled “Padron”.  A large black head poked out of the door and sniffed the wheelbarrow and it’s contents.  She pulled out a scoop of feed and dumped it, then repeated the process.  Tossing the scoop back into the wheelbarrow, she stepped into the stall with the animal as he ate.  Her fingers ran over his body and it quivered slightly as though her touch felt like a fly crawling across his hair.  The horse had his nose buried happily in the feed bucket but his ears twitched to hear everything she said, and all the noises in the barn.

And he says ponies
Now ponies don’t you worry
I have not come to steal your fire away
I want to fly with you across the sunrise
Discover what begins each shinning day.

She reached up to the muscular neck’s crest and began unbraiding the barn braids that kept his long luscious mane in check.  The softness of his mane was uncanny.  While most horses have course thick singular hairs that produce a scraggly, thin, straight mane and tail; Padron was different.  Padron had the softest mane and tail she had ever seen, and she was very experienced with horses.  She had been riding since she was six, training since she was nineteen, and in the twenty six years of various exposure to horses there was only one horse who came close to the qualities Padron had in appearance.  That horse’s name was Molly, and she was a little brown bay mustang with this liver colored tail and mane which were soft and long for sure, but nothing held a candle to Padron.  Where Molly was small, Padron was massive.  Where Molly was non-descript in color Padron was a naturally glossy black, pure black.  There was not a speck of variation on him.  Where Molly was trim, Padron was muscular.  Padron’s mane fell beyond the neck and when it was brushed would bush out some.  Therefore to keep him from looKing like a poodle on steroids his mane was pulled and finger combed.  His tail was so long and luxurious it dragged behind him eighteen inches and therefore was also kept in braids in the barn to keep him from stepping on it and it dragging in his waste while he paced in his stall.  It too was maintained with mere finger combing and pulling.  His tail was never taken down until he was out and saddled for the day’s work.

When the storm clouds in the west
Are quickly gathering
The ponies they run wild there
Before it rains

You’ll see their sleek dark bodies
Brightly gleaming
You know the fire is flying through
Their brains

She stepped out of the stall and slid the door shut behind her.  All the horses were munching happily and noisily on the grain in their buckets.  She picked up the wheelbarrow and walked it back to the same closet she pulled it out from.  There was a little grain left in it, but the horses would be eating lunch later, so she left it partially filled and closed the closet door.

Next to the closet door was a ladder going straight up the wall.  She stepped up onto this ladder and climbed her way cautiously upward.  Once she reached the top, she could see the hay bales ready and waiting.  Reaching to the right in the darkness she found the wire cutters.  She walked over to the pyramid of hay in front of her, dropped the wire cutters at the base, and climbed up the steps to reach the top.  She hurtled one bale down at a time into each of the four corners of the barn.  Climbing down she picked up the wire cutters and walked to the south corner around the hay bale pyramid.  She clipped the wires holding the hay bale together and let the bale collapse on the ends.  She picked up two flakes, and dropped them down a chute and they landed in Cainwyn and Cierrah’s stall who were in the foaling stall on the corner.  Cierrah jumped and did a quick kick at the startling sound of the hay slidding down the chute, but Cainwyn being very experienced and expecting the sound any moment just kept eating.  As Cierrah calmed she went back to suckling her mother.  Two more flakes were picked up and dropped down the next chute.  They landed in Aodh’s stall.  Aodh was unconcerned and kept on eating.  Each stall got two flakes all the way down the wall until she got to Padron’s chute.  She didn’t drop anything down Padron’s chute, and instead she went back to the ladder and climbed back down.  She grabbed a body brush, hoof pick, and rag out of a catchall built into the wall next to the ladder.  She walked to Padron’s stall again.

She pulled herself up to be able to see through the bars on the stall door.  Being so short at four foot eleven, she struggled with things at height, but had always found a way to handle it by herself.  She checked to see if Padron was finished eating.  He was drinKing from his water bucket, and his feed bucket was nearly empty.  She decided not to disturb him yet, and set the implements on the seat of Padron’s saddle sitting next to the stall door on a metal stand.

Her mind began to wander as she walked down the length of the barn and entering each stall to open the doors at the back of the stalls into the paddocks.  Each horse knew from this happening hundreds or even thousands of times that when they were finished eating, they could go out at their leisure.  Some of them exited immediately, because they were fast eaters, or were not interested in the flakes of hay offered them, while others remained inside munching.  Her mind wandered to where she was just two years prior.  Nearly destitute, and married to her sweet Martin, their house was almost taken from them in foreclosure.  She had managed to somehow find the money to keep it, but she had stressed her and her husband out to the brink doing so.  Martin was a huge presence in her life.  She was completely devoted to him, even to the point of giving up herself at one time.  Martin never wanted this of her, but it became a necessity when the small family finances fell apart.  This actually happened one month before they got married, but it took her almost a year and a half to recognize it.  She tried real hard to displace the bad memories from that first four years of marriage, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t completely forget.  Then it happened.  On that most awful day of October twelfth, Martin forgot he had already taken his blood pressure medication, and took another one, which dropped his blood pressure so far that he died.  She was out doing an afternoon feeding of the llamas and sheep, and she came back to find him collapsed in the middle of the kitchen floor.  She tried to resuscitate him, but to no avail.  It took 15 minutes for the ambulance to get there, and by that point he was too far gone to even attempt to resuscitate.  He was gone, and she was left alone with 6 foster children and four adopted children.

Thank God for life insurance.  That was the only comment she could make of such a tragedy.  The life insurance allowed her to pay off the massive loan taken out to build the home, and left just enough for everyone to live comfortably considering the majority of expenses were reimbursed by being a foster parent.  She received monthly reimbursement checks of $8602.50 or so, depending on how many days were in the month.  She and Martin had managed to negotiate full stipend for three of the adoptive children since they had been their first foster children and had issues associated.  Still, Martin was gone, but he was ever present at the ranch.  He was unsure of letting her start the program she was running, but knowing she was going to be so happy doing this he conceded.  He even helped her build the main house where they lived for a short time before he died.  He had always wanted a cattle ranch, and he had even managed to amass a small herd of around 75 head of cattle he was using as beef stock.

Another song popped into her head, which temporarily distracted her from where her thoughts were headed.

Stonehaven Sunset the water’s on fire
My true love is singing, we kiss and conspire
Sing a song for the ocean a song for the sky
A song for tomorrow love sweet by and by
For the child who is coming and for dreams that come tue
Sing a song for each other for me and for you
Sing a son for all lovers all the stars in the skies
Sing of Stonehaven water home, Stonehaven Sunrise

She looked down at her watch and realized three hours had passed and it being now six forty five she needed to begin preparing breakfast for her guests.  She walked out of the barn, and down the path under the arbors draped in clematis, morning glories, passion vines, and wisteria to the staircase at the back of the house leading to her private veranda.

Stonehaven Sunset the mountain’s on fire
My spirit is lifted, rising higher and higher
All the prophets are laughing they say we told you so
It’s one thing to play guessing games, another to know
For the needs of the many are the sins of a few
And the day is forthcoming when accounting is due
Sing a song for sweet Justice with a fire in her eyes
Sing of Stonehaven mountain home, Stonehaven Sunrise

She jogged up the stairs and opened the French doors.  She walked into the bedroom, and immediately removed her boots.  Barefoot she padded down the spiral staircase and through the great hall and into the gourmet kitchen.  She pulled out two chaffing dishes and sterno, and set up the buffet positions.  She pulled out 24 plates, forks, knives, and spoons, a mixing bowl, 3 serving bowls, as well as 12 cereal bowls.  She opened up the refrigerator and pulled out 2 cantaloupes, a bunch of grapes, pineapples, a watermelon, eight apples, and a bunch of bananas.  She cut open the watermelon in half and laid the halves next to each other.  PicKing out the seeds as she worked she scooped out the watermelon with a melon baler and laid the balls into one of the mixing bowl.  Then she cut the cantaloupe in half and repeated the process maKing cantaloupe balls.  She diced up the apples, and pulled all the grapes off the branches.  She dumped them all into the same mixing bowl and then sliced up the bananas into the mixing bowl.  She peeled and diced the pineapple and threw it in on top of the other fruits.  TaKing a plastic spatula she folded the fruits together and poured them into each of the hollow watermelons.  She got into a drawer and pulled out two ladles and put one in each watermelon.

She got back into the refridgerator. And pulled out a carton of eighteen eggs.  She lit her gas stove and began cracKing eggs into a pot sitting on the warming stove.  She cracked all eighteen into the pot and stirred until the eggs had fully cooked to scramble.  She spooned these into one of the chafing dishes, put a lid on it and then lit the sterno.  She went back to the stove and lit the griddle, and cooked some sausage that was thawing on the counter and some bacon.  She put each of these into the same chafing dish and laid a set of tongs infront of it on the table.  Then she lit the second sterno pot.  She turned and put out a pitcher of milk, orange juice, grapefruit juice, and 3 boxes of cereal of various kinds.

She then went to each bedroom occupied and slid a handwritten note under each door.

She made her way back to the Master Suite.  Pulling on her boots again she exited the French doors.  She made her way back to the barn and straight to Padron’s stall.  Opening the door to Padron’s stall she can see he has been anxiously waiting for her return.  She grabbed the brush, hoof pick and rag, and began grooming Padron.  She ran the brush all over Padron’s body paying special attention to the saddle and girth area.  She dropped the brush outside the stall, and returned to Padron’s side.  She clicked at him as she ran her hand down his leg, which was his cue to lift his foot.  She picked out each hoof in turn and then ran the rag over his whole body maKing him shine gloriously.  She walked him out of the stall and to a set of cross ties next to the stand holding his saddle.  She patted him gently as she looked him over instinctively.  There was never anything wrong with him, but she just liked to make sure.  Padron eyed her with his dark soul piercing eyes.  She grabbed his saddle pad and placed it on his back, then turned and grabbed his saddle.  Laying it on his back she dropped the girth down the far side.  She reached under and pulled the girth back to the nearside under his belly.  She slid the black webbing through the buckle, and tightened it.  She then pulled the black bridle off the stall door and lined it up on his mouth.  ClicKing at him and sticKing her thumb in the corner of his mouth she cued him to open his mouth and take the bit in his mouth.  She carefully pulled the bit up in his mouth and slid the split earpiece over his ear.  Carefully she made sure no mane was tangling into the tack, and rubbed a sleeve over the silver decorations on his bridle.  She unhooked the cross ties and draped the reins quietly over his withers.  As she walked away Padron followed closely behind and exited the barn.  As she walked she released her hair into a tumbling waterfall of wavy red tresses swirling down her back and pulled on a outback style felt hat.

She stopped and turned to face Padron who rested his head over her shoulder and nuzzled her.  She stroked his necks under the mane and walked back to the saddle.  She put her left foot in the stirrup and bounced a couple times on her right foot.  One hard jump and she swung her right leg over the saddle and instinctively it found it’s resting spot in the right stirrup.  She reached back into her back pocket and pulled out a pair of leather gloves.  Sliding the thin leather up on her hands she closed them up with the Velcro across the wrists.  She gathered up the reins and sat quietly on Padron, feeling the power beneath her, and looKing adoringly over the acreage before her.  Her eyes came to rest on the sign at the enterance of the ranch that read, “Stonehaven Sunset Ranch”.  A quirky smile spread across her lips as she reminded herself it was real and no longer a mere dream.

The sun rose behind her and glistened between the strands of her hair and Padron’s mane and tail as the gentle breezes teased between the strands.

Chapter ???
Meeting of Incantations

A man awoke to the sun streaKing through the window and the sheer drapes over the windows and surrounding his bed.  His salt and pepper hair mussed and eyes relentlessly refusing to wake he sat up on the edge of the bed.  He rubbed his face and scratched his head, realizing he needed a shower to wake up after getting in so late last night.  He had in fact arrived so late the night before that he did not even get to meet his hostess.  A gruff voice grunted as he stood from the bed and struggled to find his way out of the bed curtains.  As he padded quietly across the floor to the private restroom his toes touched the paper she had slid under the door.

He bent over and picked up the piece of paper.  On the front was scrawled in calligraphy his name Mr. Karm Nomrah.  He opened the door and looked out to see if he could catch who had slipped it under.  There was no one visible so he shut the door again and opened the paper to read the inside.  Amazed that the inside was as carefully written and done so by hand he read it intently.

Dear Mr. Karm Nomrah,

I am most pleased you have chosen to stay here with us at the Stonehaven Sunset Ranch.  We do our best to provide you the highest privacy while not encumbering you with all the extra staff constantly questioning you.  Should you need anything, there is always our Master Hand.  Use him as your concierge.

I know there will be many questions you have, please do not hesitate to ask.  However, to help your day get started on the right foot, you will find a gourmet breakfast awaiting you and the other visitors in the Breakfast Hall.

Sincerely,
Amanda - Arementa Mc Lane

P.S. Please remember tomorrow’s affair begins at 7:00 pm sharply and is black tie.

Instinctively he flipped the folded page over to see if there is anything on the backside.  He only saw his name upside down and nothing else.  He then yawned and stretched his arms out as he walked to the restroom to get a shower.  He looked into the shower and was dismayed to find that there were no knobs as there was in a “normal” shower.  He turned around and walked to the window and looked out the sheers.

Houses could be seen off in the far distance, but the privacy and the singularity was part of what was sought when moving to a place like this.  The fields were rolling, green, and glistening from the rising sun shining on the dew.  He stared for a moment trying to bring his mind into the moment and out of the fog of sleep when he saw a horse and rider come into view.  The horse was solid black.  He glistened as if illuminated from within, but he looked to be made of polished stone.  The rider’s red hair cascaded out from a hat, and cascaded down her back and down the side of the horse.  She and the horse seemed to be one; everywhere she looked the horse looked in unison.  Karm was transfixed.  He would have thought it was a shadow if he had not seen the copper glinting of the sun off the hair.  He stood there in the window staring until she spurned the horse into a rhythmic gate and loped away.  When he could see nothing more he turned away from the window and walked back to the bathroom.  Sure that he could figure out what was required to start the shower the walked back in and looked around.  There was a computer interface panel on the wall underneath the light switch.

He turned on the light and examined the interface.  He noticed there were options for temperature, water temperature, and stream type.  It was so simple he was a little embarrassed he didn’t notice it the first time, and relieved he didn’t ask the Master Hand.  He began selecting his options and prepared for a shower.  Once he was undressed and the water was ready, he slid open the glass door and stepped in.  Sliding the glass door closed it instantly fogged providing the highest-level privacy possible.  

The words in the short note ran through his head as he stood in the waterfall style water flow and let it run over his head, shoulders and down his body.  

I am most pleased you have chosen to stay here with us at the Stonehaven Sunset Ranch.  

Should you need anything, there is always our Master Hand.  Use him as your concierge.

I know there will be many questions you have, please do not hesitate to ask.

He wondered to himself what kind of questions could he possibly have to ask?  This is a secluded location where he can stay, peace from the paparazzi, and relative silence when he desired so.  The only question he could think of at this point was “who was that woman on that horse?”

He reached for a bottle sitting in a recess in the shower and read it.  Hand calligraphied on the clear plastic bottle was “Homemade hypo-allergenic deep conditioning all natural shampoo”.  Trying to be a spa; trying to be fancy he thought to himself.  A sly smirk half cocked across his lips as he poured a small amount on his palm and began to scrub his hair.  Why are places like this always trying to impress people like us?  The scent of citrus wafted over him waKing him up further.  He reached for the next bottle and looked over it a second.  “Homemade hypo-allergenic moisturizing all natural body soap with aromatic oils for relaxation.”  He put it down on the recess again and picked up the third bottle.  Reading it said “Homemade hypo-allergenic moisturizing all natural body soap with aromatic oils for rejuvenation and invigoration”.  He opened the bottle and sniffed it and chuckled.  “What ever happened to good old fashioned bar soap?” he said out loud but too himself.  He washed his body and rinsed his hair and stood in the shower a moment as he continued to collect himself and his thoughts.  He opened the shower door and touched the screen nearby and the shower stopped.  He climbed out and wrapped himself around the waist with a large thick cotton towel.  He turned to look at the mirror and amazingly it was not fogged up.  He looked his face over and decided he needed to shave.  He walked out of the bathroom and to his suitcase sitting at the end of his bed.  He came in so late he didn’t even get a chance to unload his necessities.  He dug a moment and found his razor.  He walked back into the bathroom and plugged it into the wall.  Turning it on he ran the rotating blades over his cheeks, lip, chin, neck, and then he flipped it over and trimmed his side burns at the point his ears met his head.  He ran his fingers loosely through his hair, shaKing loose some of the water, and draped a smaller towel over his shoulder then walked back into the bedroom.  He pulled his clothes out of the suitcase, and found a casual white turtleneck sweater and a pair of black pants.  He dressed then pulled on a pair of socks and some loafers and exited the bedroom.

There was not a single sound in the hallway as he shut the door to his bedroom.  He walked cautiously down the hallway toward the smell of the food in the kitchen.  He crossed the landing and found the spiral staircase and entered into the Great Hall.  Turning to the right he entered the kitchen and found an undisturbed buffet set up with a wide range of foods to choose from.

He grabbed a plate, a fork, and ladled out some fruit onto his plate.  A male voice spoke to him from behind.

“Good morning Mr. Nomrah.  I trust you slept well.”

“Yes.  Thank you.”

“Since you arrived so late, I was unable to give you the full tour.  Would you like one today?”

“I don’t feel that will be necessary.  Thank you all the same.”

“Very well, sir.  Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Well, no I don’t guess so.”

“Yes sir.  Well, should you discover anything, your phone connects direct to mine as long as you press 16*”

A tanned leathery hand reached out waited to shake the visitor’s hand.

Karm turned and found a six-foot tall man standing in front of him bowlegged, smiling, leathery in appearance, and very friendly.

“Thank you.”  An awkward moment ensued as he shuffled the plate and fork to properly shake the cowboy’s hand.

“And your name is … ?” Karm asked as he reached out and shook the leather faced man’s hand.

“Brady.  Everyone calls me Brady.”  the gentile man said with a beaming smile.

“Will do Brady.  Will do.”

With that the leather skinned man turned away and walked toward the Great Hall.

Karm cleared his throat has he tossed around the possibility of asKing his question.  “Actually there was one thing… this morning I, well, I was looKing out the window and …” His question trailed off under his breath.

Brady turned around and stopped in his tracks and looked quizzically at Karm.  When Karm didn’t finish his question Brady prodded him to complete.

“Yes?”

“No, pay me no never mind.”

“You want to know about something you saw this morning?”

“No, it’s not important.  Never mind.”

“Yes sir.”

Brady walked away across the Great Hall.