1863- Western Ireland Mark was daydreaming yet again, staring off into the early morning sun. He
should have been caring for the horses but to be truthful he couldn't stand the
job. He found it hard to stomach what his life had become in general, the
unfairness of this lot. The estate he worked on had been in his family for
generations until the bloody English came in and took what was rightfully
Feehily land, fuck the whole country. His family were virtual slaves in their
own home and escape wasn't an option for them, the thought of leaving his
homeland was impossible. The current Lord Williams, Robert, had once been like
an older brother to Mark and they spent many happy hours riding through the
countryside being obnoxious lads. That had all changed when Rob's father passed
away and he became Master of the House, the pressures of running it made him
cold and aloof. The thought of associating with someone so common as Mark was
downright abhorrent and the two friends soon lived completely different lives. A piercing scream broke the silence of the early morning calm and Mark's
heart started to race; it was coming from the main house and it was his mother.
She was the Williams' family cook and his first thought was that she had somehow
hurt herself or that another rodent had found it's way into the flour bin. It
was a rat alright but of the human variety. Pure hatred flowed through Mark at
the sight that met him- his mother trembling in the corner with a red welt
across her cheek at the hands of Robbie. He was in a rage again over something,
it didn't take much to displease him and he let everyone know when he was
unhappy. "You stupid woman, how dare you give away what belongs to me? It was
just as good as stealing from my pockets and after all I've done for you and
your brats." Mark walked slowly and with purpose to help his mum from the floor then
turned his steely blue eyes coldly towards Rob. "Just what do you think
you're doing and who do you think you are laying a hand on her? I ought to break
your neck." Rob crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, "You? Poetry reading,
song singing prat that you are? Don't make me laugh." Mark turned to his mother and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly,
"Ma, are you okay?" She nodded and tearfully explained, "There was some food left over from
Lord William's party last night and I gave it to the O' Donnell children.
They've just lost their mother and they've nothing. I don't regret it in the
least." Rob dropped his arms and walked towards Marie, "I'll make you sorry
bitch." and something in Mark snapped. Every bit of resentment and
bitterness was channeled into his hands and he charged at Robbie, shoving him
hard against the wall. He groaned and snarled at Mark, "You'll pay for that. Or rather someone
you love will. Where is that little slut of a sister of yours? I'll enjoy taking
her."� Marie gasped and Mark saw red, he'd had enough of this. He grabbed a knife
from the table and pressed it to the stunned man's throat. "Don't push me
'cause I will do it!� You will apologize to my mother and you'll wash your
filthy mouth. Erica is so far above you you'd be lucky to stand in the same room
with her." T ime stood still as the men glared at each other until Rob looked at Marie,
"I'm sorry." Mark put the knife down and was just about to walk away when Rob lunged for
it. Rob swung awkwardly at him but Mark sidestepped the attempt and backhanded
Rob to the temple. He fell, knocking his head on the hard butcher's block on the
way down. The thud was sickening and a wave of nausea washed over Mark. He knelt
beside him feeling for a pulse and finding none. He said a silent prayer for his
friend and looked to his horrified mother, "We have to leave here,
now."