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Prologue I was born and grew up as an Irish lad in the village of Kilkenny. It was a quiet and ordinary type of village. My father was a miller, and my mother cared for me and my younger sister Ayslin. Mother had trouble giving birth to Ayslin and was not able to have more children, so she probably doted on her only two more than most would have otherwise. Growing up in such an ordinary village I was always restless. Father tried to bring me into the milling business, but I was resistant and left home, Kilkenny, and Ireland at the age of 17. I was off to seek my fortune and my future, sure that neither could be found in a sleepy village in central Ireland. Sixteen years later I find myself in Castle MacLaaran in Scotland, a member of a ruling council, part owner of the castle and the lands upon which it sits. One cold evening as we gathered in the main hall, a messenger arrives with news of my family. A message from my sister Ayslin I read. It seems my mother is ill, and Ayslin is worried that she will not recover. Ayslin begs me to return to my home in Kilkenny while there is still time. I sent the messenger back with my answer. I will return as soon as I can. My constant companion of the last several years, a servant girl named ceanna, knows that I must go, and I ask her to accompany me. She’s eager to go as she’s only traveled in her own mind listening to my stories over the years. This is the story of that trip, a history of where I’ve been and why I call MacLaaran my home. Chapter 1 Coming downstairs before dawn... covering my mouth with my left hand as I yawn, my right hand firmly entwined with cea's slender fingers. We meet seth at the foot of the stairs wondering if the man does ever sleep. We answer his question about belongings, and he sends two other servants upstairs to fetch the large trunk that we have packed our things into. We were comforted by lava's assurance the night before that our chambers would remain "just as we left them". Looking around the darkened hall... quiet now... how different it seems with no laughter, no conversations, no ferrets... chuckling to ourselves as we cross to the light spilling from the scullery. We can hear Rita in there fussing with breakfast. Poking our heads into the scullery we hear her say that she's packed a lunch for us already in a hamper, lunch for Davie and the guards as well in a separate pack, and that she won't hear of us leaving before we eat some breakfast. After a breakfast of oatmeal, honey, and tea we give our thanks to Rita. She hugs the stuffing out of both of us and we chuckle at the contrast to chasing us out of the scullery with the wooden spoon that we usually get from her. With tears welling in her eyes she sends us on our way with the food making sure we know that she wants that hamper back... Good old Rita. We make our way back through the main hall to the door... cea canting a head back o'er her shoulder... looking around like she may never see the place again. She grabs my arm tight and we exit Castle MacLaaran. The two servants have already carried the large trunk from our chambers and are just now lashing it to the back of the covered carriage that Kyle was kind enough to arrange for us. Davie is sitting up top with a scone stuck in his mouth. He hops down quickly, and wiping the crumbs from the corners of his lips opens the door for cea. I help her up and into the carriage and then follow her inside, thanking Davie and handing him the packed lunch from Rita for he and Tris's two guards Davie closes the door to the carriage and both cea and I look out on Castle MacLaaran as the dawn light breaks over the hill and lights the facade. It really is a beautiful castle. We will miss her. Davie snaps the reigns, and the horses step quickly... the carriage turns... and we are on our way, first to Glasgow and then ... Ireland. Chapter 2 Having arrived in Glasgow the day before, I had found us an Inn and unloaded the large trunk from the carriage. We both thanked Davie for driving us ... cea giving Davie a kiss on both cheeks, and me pressing two gold coins into his palm before sending them back to MacLaaran. The servants from the Inn stored the trunk in the carriage house as we had travelling clothes in a smaller bag along with the small satchel that I kept with me at all times. Talking to the proprietor this morning, I find that dinner will be at 8pm tonight, along with other information about where the port office was located and at least two jewelers within an easy half hour walk through the city. As it's still early in the day I take cea by the hand and we head out into Glasgow. By the look on cea's face it's evident that she hadn't been in a large city before... I had to admit it was quite a change from the quiet little village of MacLaaran. How long had it been since I had been in Paris, 4 years? Had it really been that long?... Squeezing her hand as we walk the city streets, 4 very happy years. We come across the first of the jewelers after a mere 15 minute stroll and go inside the small establishment. She looks at me curiously, as if asking, "why are we shopping before the trip?" but not arguing about going into a jeweler. I inquire of the owner how long he has been in business, making small talk before coming to the point. No, in fact I'm not in the market to purchase something... just the opposite in fact. I draw my satchel up to the counter as we are alone with the owner in the small shoppe. I reach inside and take out a small black sack maybe a hand's breadth in size. I empty the contents onto the polished stone countertop... several large raw emeralds tumble forth onto the counter. The proprietor doesn't show anything on his face. I can't say the same for cea. I glance at her sideways and the size of her eyes looks to have doubled, but she says not a word. The proprietor takes one of the emeralds in hand, turning it over in his fingers, running his fingers over the rough surface of it. He indicates it is of "adequate" quality, trying to hide his interest in where one finds uncut emeralds. He asks if I want to sell the lot and I indicate that I do... He disappears into a back room and re-emerges with a set of scales. He weighs each emerald and writes the weight down on a piece of parchment. Coming to a total weight of just under 100 carats, he offers a price which I think is a little low. I counter that by cutting and polishing the emeralds himself he will save expense, and he can end up with quite a few finished stones by cutting the larger ones down. He thinks on this and increases his offer by 20%. I agree to the terms and he suggests that I return the next morning and he will have the funds. I agree, packing the emeralds back into the black sack, and then into the satchel. We bid him good day and walk back out into the morning sunshine. Out on the street cea can hold her questions no longer. I chuckle at the flow of questions, but answer them all truthfully... no I didn't tell her about the jewels before... yes I know I always tell her everything... no there is nothing illegal about selling jewels... yes I really need to sell them... because we need the funds for travelling... yes in fact there are a few more jewels in the satchel, which is why after we stop at the port office we will be locating that second jeweler. Reaching the port office we go inside and talk to the port master. The port master informs us that there are two ships in dock that are bound for Ireland. The first ship, MerryMaker will leave in two days time and will dock at Belfast in the north. The second ship, SweetSilver, will leave in 4 days, and will dock at Waterford. I ask the port master what docks both ships are berthed at and he tells me that MerryMaker is at slip 1, and SweetSilver is at slip 12. I thank him for the information and we leave the office. As we walk down to the slips I tell cea that we will seek passage on SweetSilver as its port of Waterford is more than two days closer to Kilkenny than Belfast. We make our way to slip 12 and ask a dock hand if he knows if the Captain is aboard the SweetSilver. He believes that he is and we walk the gangway to the deck. It's a nice looking ship... big enough to make the crossing easily and in comfort. I ask a deckhand if the Captain be about. He points to the stern where we see a large man with a white beard looking out at the crowded harbour. Realizing that I should have gotten the Captains names from the port master, I approach and just say, "Excuse me Captain". The Captain turns and appraises us both... obviously land lubbers... I extend my hand and give my name... my real name... "I'm Tim O'Malrain"... He shakes my hand and introduces himself as Captain Methany. I inquire about passage to Waterford, and he nods and says that they do have one cabin that we can hire. We negotiate a fair price for the voyage and I confirm that the ship will leave in 4 days time at dawn. I tell him that we will be here on the evening of the third day if that is acceptable. He says it is, and we shake hands again before cea and I depart the SweetSilver, walking back down the gangplank to the dock. Chapter 3 We've been in Glasgow 3 and a half days now. On the first morning we found the first jeweler and negotiated the sale of the emeralds I had brought along, then gone to the port to seek a ship to bring us to Ireland. We had found the SweetSilver and made provisions to make passage on her when she left port in 4 days time. After leaving the docks satisfied with the SweetSilver and Captain Methany, we stopped in a public house called The Three Feathers for a nice lunch. I had the Shepherd's Pie, and cea had a Ploughman's, a plate of cold meats and cheeses. We enjoyed sitting in front of the fire in the pub, just talking about the upcoming trip. I tried to reassure her that the passage across the channel would be uneventful in a ship the size of the SweetSilver. I knew that storms could come down from the North Sea with little warning, but I saw no need to worry her with such. When the serving lass had asked us for the fifth time if there was anything else that we might require, we decided that she must want to clear the table and wanted us to either pay for something else or clear out. We chose the latter, and gathered our belongings and headed out into the afternoon hustle and bustle of Glasgow. I answered cea's unasked question and said, "No, you were never that impatient when serving at home in MacLaaran." She just smiled up at me and took hold of my arm as we walked towards the second jeweler. It seemed to take longer than I had thought it would to locate the second jeweler. The shoppe was tucked down a side alley, dimly lit even in the afternoon light. The houses overhung the tiny alley so that not much natural light was able to filter down onto the grey cobblestones. I noticed cea clinging tighter to my arm as we approached the door, and she whispered to me, "I don't like this place very much." I tried to calm her fears with a squeeze of her hand on my arm. I told her that it would be alright. I had been in places a lot darker than this before. She didn't look very convinced as we opened the door to the shoppe and a bell attached to the door rang... a black cat scampered across our path and out the open door. Again, cea squeezed my arm tighter. I patted her hand lightly and told her quietly that I didn't believe in any of those omens. We appeared to be alone in the tiny establishment, but there were several fine looking pieces of jewelry on an assortment of headless busts behind the very old and worn wooden counter. This place lacked a lot of the polish of the first jeweler, and I was about to question whether we should even bother with this particular establishment when my eye caught sight of a ring in a small display case on a shelf behind the counter. Leaning across the counter to look closer it appeared to be a silver ring with a blue sapphire set in it. The shoppe was dark owing to the lack of light from the alley outside, yet the blue stone seemed to reflect something. It didn't glow, just looked as if it were reflecting the noonday sun, which obviously it couldn't do inside this shoppe. At that moment a small man with a grey beard appeared behind us, and asked "Can I help you?" cea gave an audible "EEEEP!" and gripped my arm all the more tightly... I had to admit that I was a little startled myself, but smiling I told him that I was interested in talking with the owner. The small man informed me that he was the proprietor of this shoppe, and asked again if he could help us. He asked if we were looking for an engagement ring perhaps? He had obviously looked at cea's fingers and seen no band, although I was sure his eyes took in the silver chain about her waist with the alternating rubies and opals, and no doubt the silver collar at her throat. Smiling at his question, cea looked up into my eyes with the same question unasked but definitely going through her mind. I informed him that I had something that I was looking to sell in fact. That brought a questioning look to his countenance and I assured him that it was all proper. I set the satchel on the old oak counter, and withdrew a smaller silver silk bag. The small man approached, now curious at what I might have in the bag. I emptied the contents onto the counter and he smiled. There on the counter were 6 medium sized stones, each one about the size of a small crab-apple. Each stone colorless, and clear, but rough, obviously uncut and unpolished. He asked if he might examine one, and I nodded agreement. Taking a small glass, like a tiny telescope, from his vest pocket he placed it over his right eye and held the stone before it, turning to face an oil lamp that was burning at the end of the counter. He made several satisfactory noises, though none of them were real words. Turning back to me and removing the glass from his eye he asked if the other stones were in similar condition. I assured him that they were all from the same source. At this he abruptly said, "I think this calls for some tea." and placing the stone from his hand back on the counter, he turned on his heel and disappeared through a set of curtains into the back of the shoppe. Looking at me, cea whispered, "tea?" I shrugged and placed the 6 stones back into the silver bag, and the bag back into the satchel. At that moment the small man appeared back through the curtains carrying a silver tray on which was a silver tea set, three china cups, and a plate of small scones. Looking at me then back at the man cea was obviously wondering if he kept tea in the back for all his customers. I had another idea running through my mind at the moment. The small man motioned us over to a small table and four chairs at the side of the shoppe. He set the tray down on the table. Instinctively cea started to reach for the set to serve, but I grabbed her arm. We were his guests and he wanted to play host. "Sit, sit" he said as he prepared the cups. "My dear, how do you take your tea?" Her voice soft, cea answered "lemon, and milk please". "Ahh, yes" he said, and handed her the cup of tea on the far left, just as she had asked for it. "And you, good Sir?" I replied "Milk and honey, please", and he immediately handed me the cup on the right, taking the cup in the middle for himself. He sat himself down in one of the two remaining chairs and sipped his tea before continuing. He then said, "So. A gentleman and his servant..." he looked at cea but continued, "...but surely more than just a servant as she clings to you as more than a Master, come to my shoppe this day. You come with 6 very nice diamonds which you intend to sell, or... perhaps something else?" I asked him about the silver ring with the sapphire in it. He replied, "Ahhhhhh.... yes.... I wondered when you would get to that." Putting his teacup down, he crossed the shoppe and withdrew the ring from its display case, bringing it across to us. "Perhaps you'd like to have a closer look at it?" he said with a bit of mirth in his eyes. I nodded and he placed it into my outstretched palm. I looked carefully at the runes embedded on the outer surface of the ring. Again the blue stone seems to reflect a light that was not present in the room. I turned it up, and read an inscription from the inner edge. The small man watched me closely as I did this, a small smile on his lips when I looked back to him... he knew that I could read the inscription. I offered one of the diamonds for the ring. The small man sipped his tea and asked for three. I knew my offer of one was too low, and he knew that his suggestion of three was too high. We agreed on two diamonds for the ring, all the while cea looking at me incredulously. The small man then said, "Well that will leave you just 4 diamonds." I agreed and asked for 1000 gold sovereigns each. He looked disconcerted at that, and told me that he couldn't come up with that much, though he agreed that was a fair sum. He indicated that he could purchase 2 of the remaining 4 diamonds at that price. I asked how much time he would need, and he indicated 2 days. That worked well with our plans for leaving and I withdrew two of the diamonds from the silver bag inside my satchel and handed them to him while I kept the silver ring with the blue sapphire. We finished our tea, thanked him for his hospitality, and left his shoppe, making our way out to the wider and lighter streets of Glasgow. On the streets cea's questions started again... Yes I knew what I was doing... No I was not going to explain why I traded two "huge" (her word) diamonds for one silly ring... Yes I realized that 2000 gold sovereigns was a lot of money... Yes I had a plan for carrying all that money... No I did not think that I needed those guards of Tris's back now. We walked the streets of Glasgow back to the Inn while her questions continued. The only way I managed to make them stop was to put my lips onto hers as soon as we were back in our room at the Inn. Then the questions stopped... Chapter 4 We had gone out the following day to the first jeweler and sold him the uncut emeralds for the sum of 800 gold sovereigns, wrapped in rolls of thin parchment 50 sovereigns in each roll, a total of 16 rolls of coins deposited into the satchel. The difference in weight is evident as I lifted the satchel to my shoulder thanking the jeweler, knowing that he would make a fair sight more than his 800 sovereign investment once the stones were cut and polished. I make a mental note to stop back in this shoppe when or if I ever return to Glasgow. We exit the shoppe and squint into the early morning sunshine, not common for a February morn in Scotland, but we enjoy the warmth that it brings to our faces. We cross the wide street, cea's smaller fingers entwined with mine. She swings my arm as we walk, and I look over and see her smiling. I ask her what brings that smile to her face, and she answers it is the sunshine, the warmth of it, and the fact that we are going on a trip together. She is anxious to be on our way across the Irish Channel, bound for Waterford. We enjoy a pleasant afternoon browsing among the shoppes and vendors that line the busy streets of Glasgow. We can go to the second jeweler in the morning and then have our belongings delivered to the SweetSilver. We don't purchase anything in our shopping, and that evening we enjoy a pleasant meal in Inn before heading to our room for the night. The following morning I am anxious to return to the little shoppe in the dark alley we had discovered two days prior. Poor little cea rolls over and says she wants to have a lie in this morning. I don't force her to come with me. She was up late last night after all. I exit the bed and pull on my clothes, searching for my other sock. What the heck had she done with it? I know I had it on yesterday, and well, the rest of my clothes were in a neat line from the door to the bed. With fresh socks on, soft leather boots, and the rest of my traveling clothes I exit our room quietly and head downstairs. I tell the proprietor of the Inn that I only want a scone for breakfast and that I will take it with me. I inform him that cea is still sleeping upstairs and that we would like our trunk delivered to the SweetSilver at berth 12 in the port before dinner this evening. With the scone stuck in my mouth I head out of the Inn, on my way to the little jeweler in that dark little lane. I make the journey easily retracing the steps that cea and I had made two days earlier, without the stop at the port obviously. Entering the small shoppe, I see the dark interior, the worn wooden counter, and the small gentleman with the grey beard who hearing the bell jingle emerges from the back room again. He smiles as he see's that it is me and he tells me to please have a seat while he brings us some tea. He disappears into the back again, and returns moments later with the same silver tea service, this time with two cups instead of the three that he had when cea and I had been here before. He pours the tea and puts milk and honey in it before handing it to me. After fixing his own cup he sits in the chair next to me and takes a sip before continuing. "Now Sir... I have the 2000 gold sovereigns ... but perhaps there is something else in my shoppe that might be of interest in exchange for the other two diamonds?" I smile and tell him that I appreciate the offer but I think the ring will suffice. He asks if I read the inscription on the inside of the band... watching my eyes as I answer. Looking over the top of my tea cup I answer that I did. He says that there aren't many who can read the old language and asks where I learned it. I tell him that I spent several years in the mountains beyond Constantinople with a master who taught me many things. We chat about the "old language" for several more minutes as we finish our tea. It is obvious that this gentleman had another profession before taking up the role of a shoppe keeper. After our tea is finished and the cups are replaced on the silver tray he stands and crosses to the old wooden counter, walking behind it. I follow him, and put my satchel up on top of the counter, opening the top and withdrawing the small silver bag from inside. He brings up two rather heavy looking bags himself from behind the counter, setting each on the wooden top with a heavy *THUD*. He explains that there are 1000 gold sovereigns in each bag, 20 rolls of 50 coins each. opening the silver bag and letting the remaining 4 diamonds roll out onto the countertop I offer him his pick of any two. He holds each one up to the light at the end of the counter, and selects two of them. I return the other two to the silver bag and the bag to my satchel. Then I deposit each of the bags of rolled coins that he has provided into my satchel as well. I thank him for his business, and his tea, then lift the satchel to my shoulder. The weight is now twice as heavy as it was yesterday. I will have to remedy this, and my mind sets to it as I exit the shoppe, hearing the bell jingle as I close the door. I make my way back through the city streets in under a half hour to the Inn and go up to our room where I find cea still in bed. I drop the heavy satchel on the floor and she jumps, startled at the sound, and giving me a stern look for waking her thusly. I walk over to the side of the bed and bending down kiss her lips. When I raise my head and look into her eyes the stern look has evaporated, and I say, "slide over". After lunch downstairs cea and I make our way to the port again, and slip 12 where the SweetSilver is docked. We go aboard and let Captain Methany know that a large trunk will be arriving with our belongings later this afternoon, and that we will be coming to join them after dinner this evening. He agrees and lets the first mate know to expect the trunk. We leave the SweetSilver for the time being, and spend our last afternoon together in Glasgow. Dinner at the Inn is warm and hearty, more than we're likely to get abord ship for the next several days. I tell cea to eat up as she doesn't know how her stomach will feel once we are on the open sea. She picks at her food, and I can tell that she is a bit nervous about the ship now. I tell her not to worry, that I have been on dozens of ships. We will be fine. My words don't appear to be convincing her as she just moves the bits of shepherds pie around her plate with her fork. I finish my dinner and ask her if she is through. She nods, and we go to settle our bill with the Inn Keeper. He assures us that our trunk has been delivered to the ship, and encourages us to stay with him again when we return to Glasgow. I thank him, not sure if we will pass this way again or not, and cea and I leave the Inn. We walk through the darkening streets to the port. As we pass each successive corner cea holds my arm just a tad tighter. By the fifth corner I tell her that she will stop the circulation in my arm if she holds any tighter, and she loosens her grip fractionally. We walk the remaining 4 blocks together and her grip, though not loosening, at least doesn't get any tighter. When we can see the port I hear her breathe a sigh of relief and we walk down to the quay. Strolling along to slip 12, we call up to the deckhand who gives us permission to come up the gangway. We board the SweetSilver and the first mate lets us know that our trunk arrived mid-afternoon and that it has been stored below. He shows us to our cabin and then says that he will inform the Captain that we have arrived. We bid him our thanks, and he disappears. As she turns to face me, cea looks up into my eyes and asks, "Are we really on our way?"... I answer, "Yes, we are really on our way." Chapter 5 The voyage itself had been uneventful, and of sea voyages, that was often times the best thing that you can hope for. It had taken two days and they had made Waterford with no ill effects on either cea or himself. The cabin had been smaller than the chambers at MacLaaran obviously, but it had suited them nicely. Meals were mainly breads, ale, smoked fish, and porridge that seemed to consist of something not completely unlike sawdust in warm loch water. Sailors neither he nor cea intended to be. They departed the SweetSilver at Waterford harbour, and two of the crew were assigned to bring their trunk down the gangplank to the quay. After two nights aboard ship, it seemed like a night in a bed that was tied to ground might be a good idea and I arranged for a room in a small inn called The Thistle and Shamrock that had a petite pub nestled into the corner of it with the same name. After a hot meal, and a warm bath, cea and I settled in for the evening, content to have a soft bed, a warm blanket and each other. As I drifted off to sleep that first night in my homeland, the land that I'd left over 15 years ago now, I could smell the peat fires of the nearby houses. It smelled like home. Wrapping an arm around the already sleeping cea, I closed my eyes. We awake the following morning to the smells of bacon cooking. We dressed from our small traveling bag having had the trunk delivered and stored in the carriage house behind the Inn. Coming downstairs we find Mrs. Daugherty bringing an Irish fryup out to the few other guests that were awake. She motions us to a table exclaiming how much more rested we both look this mornin'. Sitting at the small wooden table that she's shown us to, Mrs. Daugherty disappears into the kitchen. As we sit there I can feel the questions about to boil over in cea's mind. She starts with how long will it take to get to Kilkenny, have I been to Waterford before, why do the fires smell different here, how long had it been again since I was home, do I think my mum will "approve" of her, what will she think of her son bringing home a servant girl, will my sister like her? I don't get a chance to even answer the first one before Mrs. Daugherty shows back up with bacon, eggs, bread, black and white puddings and a pot of tea. As she looks at the enormous amount of food cea asks how we are ever supposed to eat all of this. I laugh and say eat what you can, it's a long ride to Kilkenny. She gives me that "don't be a smart-ass" look that she's perfected over the years, and digs into the excellent meal before us. I manage to answer most of her questions as we eat our breakfast. It will take two days by carriage to reach Kilkenny. Yes I've been to Waterford before, but it has been a long time and things change. The fires are made from peat that they collect from the bogs and dry, and it does have a unique smell, something that I had forgotten, but was a very pleasant memory for me. Thinking back I tell her that my father had died 14 years earlier... and I had been gone from home a year, or maybe two before that, so either 15 or 16 years now. Of course my mum will "approve" of her. Thinking to myself that I've not brought a "girl" home since... since Aoife, and I had only been 15 years old at the time. I told cea not to worry about the fact that she was a servant girl. I didn't think of her that way. I hadn't in a very very long time. That brought a smile to her lips, and I left off the question about Ayslin. Ayslin would have to decide for herself what she thought of ceanna. After we finish the wonderful breakfast we head out into the streets of Waterford in search of transport for our trip to Kilkenny. When she asks why I didn't ask Mr. Daugherty at the Inn that question I just look at her and say, "I can find it thank you". Men don't ask directions. This street must go somewhere or they wouldn't have bothered putting it here. We find several merchants, lots of things we don't need, but I let cea look in all the shoppes anyway. We do finally come across a stable of sorts attached to a shoppe that says "Donnelly's Carriage Builders, and Trade". I take us inside this establishment and discover that they do in fact have carriages for hire. We negotiate a reasonable price for two days journey to Kilkenny and I agree to pay the driver for 4 days since he will have to bring the carriage back. The shoppe owner says that he does know where the Thistle and Shamrock is, and will send a buggy by for our trunk. I thank him and we return to the Thistle and Shamrock by way of several more shoppes that cea just "has to" stop in. You'd think that she'd never been outside the tiny village of MacLaaran in her whole life... and you'd probably be close to correct. Arriving back at the Thistle and Shamrock at lunchtime after spending the entire morning walking, we agree to have a lite meal and tell Mr. Daugherty that a buggy from Donnelly's would be by to pick up our trunk. Mr. Daugherty assures us that it is safe in the carriage house and that he will help the lad get it loaded when the buggy arrives. We pack our small traveling bag upstairs and settle our account with Mrs. Daugherty who is now tending the till at the small pub just as Mr. Daugherty arrives back inside to tell us that the trunk has been loaded and there is room to ride with it back to Donnelly's if we like. We agree, thank them both for the fine treatment and go outside where we find a youngish lad at the reins and our trunk tucked in the buggy. I help cea into the buggy pass her the bag, and then climb in myself. We arrive at Donnelly's in short order, and Mr. Donnelly tells the lad and another to put the trunk onto the back of the larger traveling carriage that is waiting at the stable entrance with two horses already affixed to it. I pay Mr. Donnelly the agreed sum, minus the 2 days that I will give the driver when we reach Kilkenny. Mr. Donnelly introduces us to Pádraig our driver, thanks us, and helps cea into the closed carriage then tosses the traveling bag up top to Pádraig who places it beside him. I carry my satchel with me and climb in behind cea. Mr. Donnelly closes the door behind me and whistles. Pádraig snaps the reins and the carriage turns into the streets of Waterford, soon to be on the highway north towards Kilkenny. Chapter 6 Two days on the road from Waterford, and we approach the enclave known as Kilkenny. I can't help but stick my head out the window of the carriage and look at the village, the thatched roofs, the slender columns of smoke emanating from the chimneys, the smell of peat in the air. It has been 16 years since I've been home... and still the place looks as if I were here just last week. I call cea over to the window and point out the sights as the carriage pulls in and slows as pedestrians are crossing the lane in front of us. “Look ... there... that's the blacksmith, Callaghan's... and there... that's the bakers... Lahey's... oh, you'd like the linen shoppe... Mrs. Mulligan runs that”... I'm like a little boy coming home again. I look over at cea and she isn't looking out the window... she's looking at me... a smile on her face... I can't help but be excited... it has been 16 years, and soon I will see my Mum and Ayslin again. I lean farther out the window of the carriage and call up to Pádraig... “Take the next turn to the right. The house is at the end of the lane.” We turn right and follow the narrow lane to the end. People craning their heads out of windows as we pass, trying to see who would be arriving in a closed carriage. We pull up to the last cottage on the lane. It is a small limed cottage with an aged thatched roof. The cottage is perhaps a little more worn than I remember leaving it... but then my father had been gone for 14 years. After the years in MacLaaran, the cottage seems tiny as I open the door of the carriage and jump to the ground before the wheels have even stopped turning. Pádraig pulls the horses to a stop, sets a brake, and climbs down from the driver’s seat. I already have cea by the waist and lower her to the ground easily. Turning back to the house I look at it... then to her and say... “This is home.” ...Taking her by the hand, I lead her up the garden path towards the door to the cottage. Remembering Pádraig I call over my shoulder that I will return to help him with the trunk after I have taken cea inside. Pádraig just smiles and sets to unlashing the trunk from the back of the carriage. I lift the handle on the small wooden door... push it open and step into the darkened interior, pulling cea inside with me. Ayslin sees me enter and calls out excited... “TIM!!! YOU'RE HERE!!!”... Our eyes are slow to adjust to the dim interior of the cottage, but I hear my sister's voice and see a figure rushing towards me. As Ayslin wraps her arms around my neck, cea lets go of my hand and I hug my sister. Ayslin talks excitedly in my ear as she refuses to let go of my neck... “We didn't know when to expect you. We heard back from the messenger that you would come, but we didn't know when. We've been wondering for days how long it would take you. Oh I'm so glad you're home.” “I'm here Ays... I'm here...” Finally releasing me and stepping back, it's only then that Ayslin notices cea is standing behind me... she looks surprised to see her. Seeing the look on her face, I step back and take cea by the hand. I'm about to introduce them when Ayslin speaks... “You must be ceanna...” I look at cea and she looks at me... then we both look at Ayslin... not knowing how she knew that... Seeing the confused looks on our faces Ayslin smiles, chuckles, and then explains... The story being, Seamus after finding Tim at Castle MacLaaran in Scotland sent word back home about the beautiful young lass that Tim had found at MacLaaran. Ayslin let us know that Seamus had described ceanna in intricate detail. More detail than just a passing glance could have determined. How everyone back in Kilkenny who knew Seamus and Eoin had wagered on whether Seamus would voluntarily leave this new found castle in Scotland, and with or without the lass that he obviously took more than a passing interest in... I look at cea and her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are lowered. I lean over and kiss her cheek and she raises her eyes to me. In those eyes I see the answer that I already knew... and I hoped my eyes conveyed the same to her. Ayslin looks cea over from head to toe... then smiling, tells her in a low voice, ... “I think you made the right choice... Seamus and Eoin might be fine boys to look at... but their eyes wander too much...” then stepping close to cea, Ayslin reaches her arms around her and hugs her... whispering in her ear, so that only she can hear... “I'm glad you're home too ... my little sister...” I watch my sister hug my cea... and I smile as she leaves a kiss on her cheek. There is a knock at the door, and Pádraig is standing there with our trunk, young Danny standing beside him smiling into the cottage. I apologize for not returning, and Pádraig asks where we would like the trunk. I tell him outside the door will be fine. Danny and I can move it later. I walk back outside the cottage into the sunlight with Pádraig. He has brought my satchel and our traveling bag to the cottage door as well. I ask him if he will join us for dinner tonight and wait to start the return journey until the morning, but he declines, wanting to get started back to Waterford... Reaching into the satchel I pull out a small money bag, and give Pádraig the 2 days wages for the return trip, and an extra tip for the outstanding service. He thanks me kindly and climbs back onto the carriage, expertly turning it in the small lane... I watch him disappear down the lane and turn left into the high street before turning and clasping a hand over Danny's shoulder entering the cottage again. What I find inside warms my heart. Ayslin and ceanna, sitting and talking in front of the fire. I could not have wished for a better homecoming. I know now that things will be just fine here... and it's time that I find Mum. Chapter 7 The first day we arrived Mum did her utmost to put on her very best face, fixing us a fine meal that evening. Laughing and listening to our stories. Trying to convince us that she was fine, just tired. The discussions with Ayslin over the past three weeks tell us otherwise. She is very weak but will not let Ayslin call the healer, insisting instead that all she needs is a pot of tea and some herbs that Mrs. Flaherty brings to her every Monday. I just shake my head and cea tells me that she can see where I get my stubborn streak from. Ayslin and Mum delight in hearing the stories of my travels. Even cea seems interested in hearing though she's asked and heard them all before. I tell of leaving Ireland from Dublin on a ship bound for Lisbon, Portugal. I found Portuguese to be an interesting language and not at all like what I expected. I only stayed in Portugal for a month before making my way across the border into Spain. I fell in love with the Spanish countryside. The warm days and cool nights unlike the land I grew up in. Making my way across the country from job to job, I finally found myself an apprentice to a sword smith in Toledo. They have the most wonderful techniques in Toledo of folding the steel when they make the blades. I remind ceanna that the dagger that I gave her all those years ago came from Señor Moreno. I had sent Seamus to the continent once he left MacLaaran, and I frequently asked him to send items purchased from people and places that I had visited. I worked for Señor Moreno for several months, but it was evident that a smithy I'd never make. Although I admired the artistry, I could not match his intense love for the craft. It was hard to leave, but I did and made my way through Barcelona before skirting the Pyrenees along the coast and into southern France. It was in France that I met and worked for Monsieur Gabeaux, one of the better wine makers in Toulouse. I worked for Monsieur Gabeaux for almost 1 year, learning the tending of his vineyard, the harvest, and the pressing of the grapes. The wine he made was very good, but Monsieur Gabeaux could never understand how I preferred my Guinness to his grapes. I left his employ in very good terms with several bottles of Boudreaux which came in very useful when crossing into Hungary, but that's another story. I worked my way along the southern coast of France over the next 6 months spending almost a month in Marseille in the employ of a Madame who ran a house of “less than honorable intentions”. Again, that's a story for another time. I crossed into Italy and spent the next two years there. The first stay was in Torino where I learned to transcribe documents and books. My affinity for languages gave me an advantage here and I was set to translating. It was here that I was first exposed to some of the more arcane writings that I came to learn in much greater detail my chosen profession. My employer, Giacomo Biondi was an older gentleman and had literally hundreds of books in every language that you could imagine. I read all of them that I could understand and poured over the rest of them hoping to glean even the slightest nuance from the words. I found that I had a love of the written word. After a year and a half I left Biondi's and made my way to Firenze where I met the incredible artisan in leather Dario Pirandello. Dario could fashion the most wonderful items from leather. Showing my soft leather boots to them I let them know that these were made in Pirandello's shoppe by my own hand. From Firenze I made my way north and east to Venice spending several months working for a glass worker there before continuing on north towards Austria. It was in Austria that I almost died from pneumonia during that winter. All three of them look at me aghast as I say this. Especially cea as I must have failed to mention this “little bit” of information in my previous telling of my stories. Well at least I have her attention now. Maybe it was the sickness... maybe not... but I never developed a love for Austria. I moved on the next spring into Hungary and the border guards were not much interested in letting me pass into their homeland. Well two bottles of Boudreaux and 4 hours later I was invited home for dinner with Sergey. Sergey's wife Natalia can cook a very decent meal I tell you. The Hungarians are a warm and generous people... once you eat and drink with them. From Hungary I made my way down the northern edge of the Adriatic ending up in Greece. The Uzo was flowing and it was difficult to leave the warm evenings in Greece, but I found myself drawn towards the city of Constantinople. Chapter 8 Over the following days I continued with retelling the last 16 years of my life... Where was I? Oh yes... drawn towards the city of Constantinople. I don't know what drew me to Constantinople, the city that served as the capital of the Eastern Empire. The Roman Empire had been split into Eastern and Western halves with Rome as the capital for the West and Constantinople as the capital for the East. Whatever the cause, I found myself there with a meager amount of coins in my pocket, an empty stomach, but very nice leather boots. I found a printer and book binder and obtained employment doing much the same work as I had at Biondi's back in Torino. I picked up the local dialect fairly soon and was conversing easily with Jalâl the proprietor of the shoppe. My interest in the more arcane languages was evident to him as I brought up the topic frequently. After three months employ he told me about an old man that I might want to find. He told me about Kâdizâde. Kâdizâde was an old man before I was born I think. When I found him in his little cottage, halfway up a mountain he was positively ancient. No one would have taken a second look at Kâdizâde. Not if they saw him walking with his stick around the outside of his cottage, working in his garden. Not if they were to pass him on a country lane. Not unless they caught sight of his intensely blue eyes. His eyes were like nothing I had ever seen before. They were “Ice Blue”, and had an intensity and fire within them that made you realize that although the body was old, the mind behind those eyes still held wonder and mystery, and something else... power. I went to find Kâdizâde to ask him about these languages that were so old that I could not find out what base language they were derived from. I thought I would talk to him for an afternoon. I left Kâdizâde 8 years later when I buried him in the garden that he loved so. Kâdizâde taught me or re-taught me everything that I know. How to look at the world. How to see things that other people don't see. How to mix elements from nature and have them do your bidding. How to call upon the power of your mind to change perceptions of those around you. Kâdizâde taught me how to read. How to read the ancient texts. How to see more in a line of text than just the characters on the page. How each stroke of the quill imparts a thought, an emotion, or even a part of the person who made it. Reaching into my pocket I draw out the silver ring with the blue stone. The ring that I had purchased in the dark little shoppe in Glasgow. As I draw it out cea's eyes light as she looks between the ring and my face. The stone, a sapphire, again exhibited that quality of seeming to reflect the noonday sun even though it was dark outside the cottage now and the only light came from the fire and two oil lamps. I turn the ring over in my fingers so that I can read the inscription from the inside of the band. Then I show the band to cea, to Ayslin and to Mum. I explain that the language written there was an ancient language, a language from the times when things were not as they are today... from a time when powerful forces, both dark and light were at war with each other... I pause, not sure if I want to go on with the next part... when dwarves and elves roamed this earth... I see the look in the eyes of all three of them... and I say that I know ... I've never seen a dwarf or an elf either, but I've read about them. I've read a lot about them. Taking the ring back, I look at the band and read the inscription, translating to English for cea, Ayslin, and Mum... “My Alatariel, though I am far from you, we will never be apart.”... I explain that the text is Elvish, and the person who put the inscription in the band was an elf, and a magician. He loved Alatariel very much. He knew that he and she would be separated by a great distance, and he couldn't bear the thought of not hearing her voice each and every day. So he made this ring. He imparted a piece of himself into the ring in the form of an enchantment. Do you see how it reflects the light? The light that isn't present? It was enchanted on a bright and sunny day, and that sunlight was captured as part of the enchantment. It must have given Alatariel a warm reassurance to look down on this ring on her hand and know that her loved one was never apart from her. You see... this is a communications ring. With this ring and another matching ring two persons could communicate across vast distances. The elf who made this ring could “talk” in a sense to his Alatariel each and every day that they were apart. He would hear her voice in his head, and she could hear his voice in hers. I place the ring back into my pocket and see a small frown on cea's face, but I go on with my story of my master, my mentor, Kâdizâde. Kâdizâde was more than a teacher, more than a kind old man, he was an Enchanter... and he taught me to be one too. I was his apprentice for 8 years and I learned something new every single day for 8 years. I loved him like a father, and on that morning when he didn't wake from his sleep, I wept for him like I wept for my own father upon hearing of his death. That morning I dug his grave in the garden he loved. I placed my mentor into the earth, and covered his still form with the moist soil. The following day I packed the books that I had written and everything I could carry into a satchel slung over my back and left the cottage that had been home for me for the past 8 years. It was my intention to return home to Ireland at that time and put my new craft to use. I crossed the English Channel, landing at Dover I took the chance to explore England, Wales, and Scotland before returning home to my Ireland. That's when I happened upon Castle MacLaaran. I found the people warm and inviting. I found good food, laughter... and I found... looking at cea now... love. Chapter 9 It's been almost 7 weeks since cea and I left MacLaaran bound for my home in Ireland. The time has evaporated without us noticing but as mid-April approaches and the daffodils are emerging from their winter respite, my mind wanders back to MacLaaran. In the early morning hours I lay awake and wonder if the taxes made it to the King, what have Kyle and lava been up to in the dungeon when they though no one was watching, has Tris managed to entice Aurora into spending her springtime at MacLaaran.. Staring up into the blackness I know that although this place was once my home, that was another time. As difficult as it is for any Irishman to admit, my home now is in Scotland. I turn my head and look at the sleeping cea beside me and I smile. She has been such a wonderful help to Ayslin these past weeks. Mum isn't deteriorating like she was, but she isn't improving either. The woman who brings the herbs and the tea to her every Monday says that's all we can expect at this point. I miss MacLaaran, but how can I leave my Mum. Not that I'm doing all that much for her, other than having cea here. It is after all cea and Ayslin who care for her. The most I can offer is a story, or a smile. These thoughts are getting me nowhere but sleepless. I turn over and try to fall asleep again. The next morning after cea has taken Mum her breakfast, and brought ours to the small wooden table next to the kitchen, I sit her down to discuss my sleepless night. I tell her how much I appreciate all that she's doing for Mum, but tell her of my desire to return to Scotland. That I'm torn between my duties to my family here in Ireland, and my family in Scotland. That I can't in good conscience take her and go back to Scotland and leave Ayslin here to take care of Mum by herself. But I'm a member of the MacLaaran council in Scotland, and I have a duty that I'm neglecting by being here in Ireland. I don't see a way to serve both. I put my head in my hands and close my eyes. I feel cea's hand on my neck and she simply says, ... “Don't you?... Use the ring. It's why you bought it.” I lift my head from my hands and look into her eyes... “What are you saying?... Leave you here?... No. Absolutely not. I won't do it!” She looks at me with a smile on her face, laying her hand on my cheek, and repeats the words from the inscription inside the ring, “...though I am far from you, we will never be apart.” ... As much as I want to find fault with this logic, I can't... Taking a deep breath and holding her hands in mine I nod my consent as I can't bring myself to voice the words. Later that afternoon when Ayslin comes, we tell her of our decision. She reassures me that cea will be fine. That she and her husband will continue to think of her as one of the family even when I'm gone. I thank her and hug her tightly, then she's off to tend to Mum. I watch as she and cea split the chores around the small cottage and I smile as they already act like sisters. That evening after dinner I tell cea that we have to prepare the ring and that I need her help. She seems eager at the thought of experiencing this even though she knows it will bring us that much closer to the time when I depart. I sit her down before the hearth, where I've spread a coarse blanket. I sit down facing her and draw several items from a small black bag. I remove the silver ring with the blue stone that still shines with the reflected sunlight. I remove another ring, this one gold with a yellow topaz as the stone. The topaz has an amber glow that might or might not be the reflection from the firelight as we sit close to it. I remove a small branch from a silver fir tree, the silvery green catching the firelight, the smell of pine immediately evident. I put the topaz ring on my own left hand then ask her for hers. She hands me her right hand and I tell her gently “no, your left”... I see the smile on her lips and the glint in her eyes as she lays her left hand in mine. I slip the silver ring with the blue stone on the ring finger of her left hand, and we both smile at the significance but she says not a word. I put the silver fir in the palm of my left hand then take her left hand and place it on top of the fir branch, clasping my right hand over hers. Before I start the incantation, I explain that there are several words and phrases that she must repeat exactly as I say them. I will let her know when and which phrases. She nods her understanding, and I begin. Speaking clearly and slowly I say the words, some familiar and some not. The first part of the incantation takes approximately 10 minutes to complete and the rings grow warm on our fingers. I tell cea that the next part is where she has to repeat the words and she nods again. I speak in English now, and she repeats each phrase exactly as I have spoken it. This ring will be mine This ring will be yours These rings will be ours I will be yours You will be mine We will be ours Our minds Our hearts Our love Nothing will keep me from you Nothing will keep you from me Nothing will ever keep us apart. Removing my right hand from the top of hers I reach into the fireplace and pick up a small orange ember. It is very hot, but I'm careful not to drop it as I bring it over to the top of the blue stone set in her ring. I lay the ember carefully upon the top of the stone and speak the final words. “My cea, though I am far from you, we will never be apart.” I see her wince as she feels a sharp hot pain from the inside of the band as the inscription is changed. I apologize for not warning her of that part. She looks down at the ring, and the orange ember from the fire has disappeared, but the stone now has a different look to it. Where it once seemed to reflect the noonday sun, bright and white, it now has a warm glow, as of firelight. She whispers, unsure... “Is that it?... Is it... Did it work?” I nod my head and think the words, “Yes my love. It is complete”... Her head jerks up from looking at the stone, staring at my face. She watches my lips and asks, “Did you?... Did you just ... think that?” ... I look directly into her eyes and think the words, “Yes I did. It will take practice to learn to only ‘talk’ to me when you want to. To shield your other thoughts. Until then you can take the ring off when you don't want me ‘listening’”... I smile and she just shakes her head and puts her right hand over her left holding the ring and thinking, “I'm never gonna take this ring off my finger.” ... I smile then lean close and kiss her lips. Chapter 10 It's been 5 days now since I gave cea her ring, yes I do think of it as “her ring”... and I guess I always will. She's become quite adept at telling me just what she ‘thinks’... chuckling slightly to myself as I remember a few ‘thoughts’ at dinner the previous night that were not related to the meal before us at all. I have been preparing for my departure with obvious mixed emotions. Ready to return to MacLaaran, but obviously not ready to leave cea behind. I ask myself every day if I'm really doing the right thing in leaving her here in Ireland. And every day I hear her voice in my head telling me that I am. I use the funds that I obtained from selling the emeralds and the diamonds in Glasgow to set up accounts with the local merchants of Kilkenny. I arrange for Danny O'Doyle the butcher to deliver fresh meat to the house twice a week, and once a week to Ayslin's house. She doesn't know this, but I'll be gone before she gets the first delivery. I'm glad I don't have a ring with her or I'd hear of it for who knows how long. Old Pete Finegan will deliver peat to the house every week to keep the fires burning. Michael Donehue will provide vegetables when they are in season. Mrs. Kilpatrick will supply both Ayslin and cea with cloth when they need it. On my last evening with everyone, I give Ayslin a bag containing 100 gold sovereigns. She protests but I tell her that I want her to look out for my cea and this is for emergencies. If she doesn't need it now, she will at some point. I leave a small chest with Ayslin and tell her to put the bag and the gold inside the chest for safe keeping. After she does so, I wave my hands over the chest and mumble some Elvish gibberish as they all look on with unease. I then pronounce in front of Ayslin, cea, Mum, Ayslin's husband Patrick and Danny the lad who helped us in that first day, that I have placed a protective ‘hex’ upon this chest and that should anyone other than Ayslin attempt to open it, they will be afflicted by a plague that will wither their hands and cause the flesh to fall off in large flakes to the ground until they have nothing but skeleton hands, useless for anything. This is pure sheep-pooh of course but the word will spread fast enough that it should keep anyone with a thieving thought in their head away from the chest. We went to our bed late that eve. Not wanting to blow out the lamps, not wanting to close our eyes. Morning came too quickly and Danny brought me a horse to the front of the cottage. I was leaving the large chest with cea, Mum, and Ayslin. I prefer to travel lightly, and I had everything I thought I would need for the trip back in my satchel which I slung over my shoulder. I kissed Mum goodbye, kissed Ayslin goodbye, then turned to cea. I held her in my arms very tight, then looking down into her eyes I thought the words, I told her all those years before in the hall at MacLaaran... “I love you... I've always loved you.”... She thought the words from the ring, “...though I am far from you, we will never be apart.” I kiss her very deeply, not wanting our lips to ever part, but I knew they must. Looking back through wet eyes I see her smile and think, “now go”. I climb on the horse that Danny is holding and he passes me the reins. I turn the horse and head slowly down the lane, towards the center of Kilkenny, knowing that I'm leaving a part of me behind. I rode from Kilkenny East to Dublin, where I spent the evening at an inn. My bed had not been this cold for so very long that I couldn't remember it ever being like this, luckily cea talked to me until past midnight before she finally succumbed to sleep. I slept poorly that night, but the next morning I took the horse that I had purchased in Kilkenny only two days before, and sold it at the livery stable for not nearly what it was worth, but such is the business. I found a ship headed for Glasgow the following morning and spent another restless night in my cold bed, alone except for cea's voice in my head. I rose the following morn and walked to the dock and boarded the ship not even recalling what the name of the ship was, only that it was at berth 3 and she set sail at high tide. I spent the next 2 days in my cabin ‘talking’ to cea, or at the rail of the ship looking back westward instead of eastwards towards Scotland. With the ship pulling into Glasgow harbor I told cea that I had arrived, and how much I missed her. I avoided the same Inn that cea and I had spent a week at now two months prior. It would be too difficult to explain, too painful to remember. I purchase a new horse with the remaining money I have, save that set aside for one night's lodging, and spend the night in Glasgow. Arising early the following morning I ride south and east until late in the afternoon, stopping to eat some bread and cheese that I brought from the Inn. I find a meadow and tie the horse to a low branch and stretch out under the stars. I ‘talk’ to cea for hours, till the moon has passed completely overhead. Neither of us wants to say goodnight, but eventually sleep overtakes us both. I can't tell you who fell asleep first. I wake the next morning to the sound of larks in the tree. I stretch and take care of “morning business” before climbing back into the saddle again. My backside tells me I'm not one for extended journeys on horseback anymore, but we push on towards MacLaaran. I recognize the terrain now as being more familiar, and eventually I come over a rise and see that village that I've known so well for so many years. There in its midst is Castle MacLaaran. I ride through the village slowly, and up to the stables attached to the castle. I leave my horse with the stable lad and shifting my satchel to one shoulder walk through the portcullis and into the Hall. I'm home. Well, part of me is home. Epilogue It had been 10 days since I left cea in Ireland... 10 of the longest days in my memory. I was sitting by the fire in the Great Hall in MacLaaran with friends when the door opened. A cloaked figure, obviously a woman entered the hall. She drew back the hood of her cloak as she crossed the hall, and I looked up... It was my ceanna. The shock of it kept me from uttering a word. When my voice finally found me, she was in my arms hugging me. The questions flowed without a chance for her to even answer. Why was she here? Why had she not said that she had left Ireland? Who was looking after Mum? Where was Ayslin? What had happened? She told me then while pressing her tiny form to mine, that Mum had passed. She had gone to bed as usual, but the next morning... well, she was gone. It was unexpected. It took them all by surprise. The combination of the news of my Mum's passing and having cea back with me at MacLaaran was too much, too soon. I had to sit down. My Mum gone. The only respite being that I had seen her before she left. As cea told the story of her return to MacLaaran, not being able to sleep, wanting to tell me using the ring, but not wanting me to know without her being there to hold me, I knew ... all over again... how much I loved her. She fell asleep on my lap, her head against my chest, as those around us conversed. Listening to the conversations around me... with my cea there... I knew that now, this was truly my only home. |
