The Irish Devil Read online

  Ireland’s beauty held no equal. Rolling pastures, emerald green hills, enchanted woods, sparkling blue lakes—no other country possessed such riches. And soil that grew the finest crops. He had sunk his hands in that dark, thick soil when he had returned three years ago a grown man of twenty and five. He had buried his fingers deep, feeling the precious gift of life it held. And then and there he had promised himself that this land of his roots would sow his seed once again.

  He had fought hard and long, his hands covered with blood so thick he thought that the hardy River Shannon would not even be able to wash the stain away. But he kept his eyes and mind focused on the true beauty of Ireland. He remembered vividly the majestic mountains of Donegal where several nights they camped in its shadow, the rocky coastline that made landings difficult and the white, sandy beaches that finally welcomed them. His eyes drank their fill of the peaceful Ardbear Bay in Connacht. He dreamed about the many windswept valleys in the northwest, their rocky terrain and thick vegetation making them perfect places to hide in wait for the enemy. He listened over and over again to the legend of how Ireland’s landscape was created by the battle of the bulls. And he listened to the people that were Ireland’s heart and soul.

  And while the warring kings fought for more and more land holdings, caring little for the land and what it could harvest them and caring even less for the people whose sweat and blood made the land thrive, Eric fought to gain land so he could remain on his native soil and reestablish his heritage.

  He intended to get himself a little piece of heaven, for this land so pleasing to the heart and soul had to be the closet thing to heaven. And he would work along with his people, his own sweat and blood mixing with theirs so they would flourish along with the land and together their futures would be secured.

  The pain-filled scream caused all four men to jump to their feet and the already exhausted, expectant father turned deathly pale. Rook simply released a mournful howl.

  o0o

  “Ellie, you are fighting too hard,” Faith said softly, wiping the frightened girl’s perspiring brow with a damp cloth. “The babe will come in its own good time.”

  “I am so tired,” Ellie complained and grabbed for Faith’s hand. “Nothing is wrong, is there? You would tell me if I was dying and you would see that the babe lived, would you not?”

  Faith ignored the painful grasp the fearful girl held on her and spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone. “You are not dying and there is nothing wrong with the babe. Your labor is long and tedious and, yes, painful, but it will come to a joyful end.”

  Bridget stood on the opposite side of the bed and Faith caught the doubt and worry that shadowed her soft green eyes. She was secure that she could get Ellie through this delivery, though she was apprehensive. She had a feeling the babe was in the wrong position and would need to be turned for a safe delivery. Not an easy task for the deliverer and even less pleasant for the mother, but also not an impossible one. What Ellie needed most was to remain as calm as possible. Every time she tensed it caused her labor pain to worsen and to exhaust her, robbing her of the strength and courage she would need for the delivery itself.

  “Relax,” Faith ordered, and this time sternly. “You have time before the next pain.”

  She walked away from the bed over to the table in the one-room cottage and washed her hands once again in the water bowl she had instructed Bridget to change with each use.

  “Is she all right?” Bridget whispered behind her.

  Faith turned and spoke quietly. “She will be if she would relax. I think the babe needs turning—”

  Bridget almost gasped loudly, but Faith’s quick hand to her arm prevented the startled reaction from reaching her lips.

  “ ‘Tis not a death sentence for mother or child. My hands are small and agile and will serve both of them well this eve.”

  Her confident response eased Bridget’s worries. “True, I have seen you save many a villager whose family had given up hope. Will it be long now for her?”

  “Before sunrise.” Faith prevented herself from cringing at her own response. She hoped her new husband would understand the unpredictable delay and not be angered by it. She had seen him peek in once or twice and perhaps even more since she was so engrossed in tending Ellie, she took little notice of anything else. That was the reason she had purposely kept her now-damp hair hanging over her shoulders. She normally tied the mass of red curls back away from her face and out of her way, but with her husband so close by and his entrance to the cottage unpredictable she could take no chances. She had no choice but to conceal her scar.

  Her hair hung around her face and over her shoulders in limp strands, though the curls persisted with less than their usual bounce. She wiped her damp forehead with a wet cloth and wondered what her husband’s reaction would be when he first looked upon her scar. Would he feel cheated? Would his disgust be evident in his eyes? Would he refuse to honor their marriage vows and cause her even more disgrace?

  Faith realized she faced an uncertain future with the dark lord and she wondered why the thought disturbed her. Their brief acquaintance served as a reminder that she knew little of him and yet she felt he was a man of integrity. He had come to her defense without hesitation or question. Of course, she was considered his property and he was a man who defended what was his, but still she sensed there was more to the man called the “Irish devil” than he allowed people to see. Perhaps if she could reach that part he kept so guarded, she would discover a man worth loving.

  The key to solving this dilemma was to accomplish that before he discovered her secret.

  Faith forcibly pushed the concerned thoughts from her mind. She had Ellie to tend to and the birth required all her attention.

  She reached for a clean cloth to soak in the bowl filled with fresh water. After rinsing it she returned to Ellie and passed the cloth to Bridget for her to gently wipe the young girl’s flushed face. She walked to the end of the bed, rolling up her sleeves.

  “Here is what we are going to do, Ellie, to bring this little fellow into the world.”

  “Oh, do you think it a boy?” Ellie asked with more enthusiasm than Faith had seen from her in several hours. She wanted more of that eagerness, especially for the task that lay ahead.

  “Of course, ‘tis a boy,” Faith said with a grin. “Only a man would give a woman so much trouble.”

  Ellie and Bridget laughed and as the next pain hit, Faith gently delivered the necessary instructions that would help bring the night’s ordeal to a joyful end.

  o0o

  “Was that laughter I heard?” Colin asked, stretching his neck and turning his head for his ear to pick up the sound more clearly.

  “Why would they be laughing?” the young man asked nervously.

  Colin smiled. “What is your name, boy?”

  “John, sir.”

  “Well, John, let me tell you something about women,” Colin said, resting comfortably back against the stump behind him. “They make absolutely no sense. Never try to understand them, never argue with them and never, ever tell them they are wrong.”

  “Oh, Ellie, my wife, sir, she is never wrong.”

  He spoke with such complete honesty and love that all three men looked at him and shook their heads.

  “Besotted,” Borg said, almost as if he wished what John had was contagious.

  “He is finished,” Colin said and laughed.

  “Perhaps,” Eric said in that deep direct voice that commanded attention. “He is a very lucky young man.”

  John bobbed his head. “Oh yes, sir, that I am. I love my Ellie, she is the most wonderful, beautiful woman in all of Ireland and I cannot bear to know she is suffering so because of me.”

  “It is a woman’s duty to birth babes,” Colin informed him.

  “Yes, sir, I know, but to suffer so while we sit here and do nothing but wait. It seems unfair.”

  “It is the way of things,” Borg said and offered a comforting pat to the young boy’s
tense back.

  Eric remained silent, his thoughts his own. He wondered how Faith would fair when birthing their babes. And he wondered if he would be able to sit idly by, waiting and listening to her screams.

  Eric stood abruptly, startling the other three. Rook immediately rose along with him and remained by his side as he walked toward the cottage.

  “Is he angry?” John asked fearfully.

  Colin shook his head. “Impatient.”

  John swallowed the nervous lump in his throat before responding. “I upset his wedding night.”

  Colin laughed. “You planted the seed that decided to harvest and upset his wedding night.”

  John began to tremble again.

  “Do not worry,” Borg said. “He will wait as long as it takes and say not a word.”

  “Lady Faith will not suffer because of this will she?” It took courage for John to ask the question and his inquiry earned him the respect of both Colin and Borg. “She is a good, caring woman and I would feel responsible if she—”

  Colin stopped him. “Worry not. Lady Faith wisely asked her husband’s permission and he willingly gave it. She will suffer naught for her actions here this night, though she may find herself mighty tired on the morrow’s journey.”

  “I heard you leave at dawn,” John said.

  Borg nodded. “If the babe has arrived we will. If not?” He shrugged. “We will wait.”

  John relaxed for a brief moment before a scream ripped through the night air once again.

  Eric was near the cottage door when the scream rushed out. He hurried his steps, Rook keeping up with his long strides. He slowly opened the door and peered around it.

  Faith stood at the bottom of the bed, her hands lost between the young girl’s white thighs and her voice soft and gentle as she delivered instructions.

  “It will not be long now, Ellie, I almost have him turned. Hold tight, don’t do anything, just let me get him turned a bit more and it will be over.”

  He watched the muscles in her forearms tighten and her face scrunch up as she fought to turn the babe inside the frightened girl.

  “A bit more, just a bit,” she said, easing the girl’s fears.

  “I need to push. I need to push,” Ellie demanded.

  “One minute, just one, Ellie, hold on,” Faith urged and with all her might worked the babe around. “Now, Ellie, now.”

  The young girl groaned along with her laborious task.

  “I have his head, keep pushing,” Faith urged and with gentle hands assisted the babe free from the womb. Her fingers worked frantically to clear the cord that had lodged around the babe’s neck.

  “A boy,” Faith said with excitement while her fingers hastily cleared the babe’s mouth.

  “Why is he not crying? Why can I not hear him?” Ellie asked with fearful tears rushing to her eyes.

  “Lazy he is,” Faith said all the while doing her best to get the still babe to breathe. After making certain his mouth was clear, she gently massaged his throat and his chest, turned him over and gave him several pats on the back.

  “What is wrong? What is wrong?” Ellie said crying in earnest now.

  Eric shook his head. All this and the babe was stillborn. He could not understand why Faith fought so hard when the little fellow was obviously lifeless.

  Faith turned the baby over and bent down to softly blow her life’s breath into his mouth.

  Eric knew then that he had chosen wisely. This tenacious woman would never give up, she would fight right alongside him. She would bring courage, strength and honor to his name. She would never disgrace him.

  “No, no,” Ellie cried, clinging to Bridget’s hand.

  A loud and unexpected wail ripped through the cottage and brought startled gasps from all present, even the mighty Irish devil.

  Faith turned toward the door before she placed the babe on Ellie’s stomach. Her husband simply nodded to her and soundlessly retreated, closing the door and leaving the women to finish the task.

  “You have a son,” Eric announced and offered his hand to the young lad.

  John grasped his hand, grinned and repeated, “A boy.”

  Colin and Borg delivered hardy congratulatory slaps to the young fellow’s back.

  “Ellie?” John asked, suddenly remembering his wife.

  “She is fine,” Eric said. “I am certain my wife will let you see her soon.”

  “Thank you, sir, thank you so much for your kindness and understanding,” John said, all the while shaking his hand.

  The door to the cottage opened.

  “Want to see your son, John?” Bridget called.

  Releasing Eric’s hand, John ran toward the cottage.

  “The sun rises in an hour,” Colin said.

  “We leave on schedule,” Eric announced.

  Colin smiled. “We could delay it an hour or two.”

  Borg grumbled.

  “He is entitled to the consummation of his vows,” Colin insisted.

  “The woman spent all night birthing a babe,” Borg argued.

  Colin snapped right back. “She has a duty to her husband.”

  “Enough,” Eric commanded sharply. “I said we leave at dawn. Go make certain all is ready.”

  Both men nodded and hurried off, their bickering voices trailing them.

  Rook briefly whined and then took off. Eric looked to see what had caught his attention. Faith had stepped out of the cottage, her hand rubbing the back of her neck.

  She dropped down at Rook’s approach and gladly took his sloppy kisses while ignoring her own discomfort to rub behind his ears.

  Eric approached slowly, allowing her time with the monster of a dog she seemed extremely attached to.

  Faith stood, filled a small bucket with water from the rain barrel beside the cottage and placed it on the ground for Rook. The dog greedily lapped away at it.

  She simply amazed Eric. She had spent the whole night attending a difficult birth and still she saw to her dog’s needs before her own.

  “Forgive me, my lord,” she said as he stepped near.

  “Eric,” he corrected. “Forgive you for what? You did what you had to do and with remarkable success. I had thought for a moment the babe would not breathe.”

  She visibly relaxed, her shoulders drooping and her hand once again returning to rub her neck. “I feared the same.”

  “But refused to accept it.”

  She smiled. “I can be stubborn, my… Eric.”

  He stepped next to her and gently pushed her hand aside. His long fingers slipped behind her neck and began to knead her tense muscles with a firm hardness.

  She tensed, at first fearful he might brush too near her scar, but soon she forgot her worry and simply enjoyed the relief his skilled fingers brought to her stiff neck.

  “We leave at dawn,” he informed her.

  “Oh, I thought—” She stopped and said no more. How could she ask this stranger why he wished to delay their coupling?

  She thought him the devil able to read her mind when he spoke in a soft whisper near her ear. “You are tired. There will be time enough to consummate our vows.”

  “Come, sir, see my son,” John said with joy as he stepped outside the cottage.

  Eric moved to take Faith’s hand.

  “I would like to clean up and gather my remaining belongings for the journey.”

  Eric nodded. “Is Bridget finished with Ellie?”

  “She will be shortly.”

  “Then I will send her to see to you,” he said and before he disappeared inside the cottage, he added, “I admire your strength and integrity and I am pleased that you are my wife.”

  The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. Faith received a tongue lashing from her stepmother for not performing her wifely duties and was given orders to promptly see to the task. Bridget arrived after Faith had finished cleaning up and packing the last few items she wished to take and together they saw to the care of her delicate seedlings.

 
Faith barely had time to consider Eric’s parting words.

  Integrity.

  What would the dark lord do when he discovered his wife was not as honorable as he thought’? Her unpredictable plight troubled her though she had no time to give it full thought. It nagged at her now and then as she was hurried along, Bridget insisting they would leave precisely at dawn as Lord Eric had commanded.

  Dawn came, and so did departure.

  Brief good-byes were exchanged with her parents and another whispered warning in her ear was given from her stepmother to see to her duties.

  Orders were issued in loud shouts and Faith stood waiting, several yawns attacking her. The long night had finally caught up with her and she was completely exhausted. She had hoped to ride in the wagon with the other women, but was told she would ride with her husband. She wondered just how long she was going to be able to stay mounted without falling asleep.

  Eric mounted a gorgeous black stallion and to Faith’s surprise, Borg grasped her around her waist and handed her up to Eric. He situated her comfortably across his lap, wrapping the black wool cape he wore snugly around the both of them.

  She sat braced against his warmth and strength, his hard muscles a comforting pillow to her tired body. Without thought she rested her weary head on his strong shoulder, nestling herself against him and sighing with pure pleasure.

  He smiled, though she did not notice or hear him order her to sleep. She drifted into a peaceful slumber as Eric directed the mighty stallion away from the keep.

  Chapter Five

  Eric watched the sun peek from behind the cloud that only moments before had dusted them all with a light rainfall. Faith continued to sleep contentedly in his arms, stirring occasionally and then settling herself with a comforting snuggle against him.

  A brief smile tugged at the edges of his usual stern expression. He felt content for the first time in a very long time. He was finally settling, with permanence, in the land of his birth, a place he had felt he always belonged. It was as though the land called to him like now when the sun washed over the meadows highlighting them in rich shades of gold and glorious greens. And the hills in the distance echoed the shades of greens in the meadow though ranging in color from the darkest green to the brightest. And the bright sun streaming down made the raindrops that clung to the blades of grass sparkle like diamonds. It was truly a magnificent sight to behold.