Page 84 of The Darkland

“It is. I have the missive from Edmund to prove it. I will be happy to show you.”

Mara was coming to realize that this wasn’t some kind of horrid joke. The room began to sway. “But Edmund is my sister’s husband and…”

“And your legal guardian,” Lionel cut her off, though not unkindly. He could see that she was building up to an explosion and he hastened to calm her. “Lady Mara, do you not understand what an honor you have been given? You shall be Baroness Wyresdale. You will be respected and loved by all. You will wield power and money such as you have never dreamed. All I ask of you is a son to carry on the le Vay name. It is a great honor, my lady, to be the mother of a legacy.”

Mara’s mouth popped open and she stood up, knocking over her chair. When Lionel reached out to keep her from falling, she flailed away from him and ended up on one knee. The look in her eyes was wild.

“Never,” she hissed. “I will never marry you. I am to marry Kirk!”

Lily stood up, putting herself between her father and Mara. “Mara, please,” she begged for calm as she turned to her father. “Father, you will leave now. Please get out of here.”

Lionel stood his ground. “I will not,” he said. “I am not trying to be unkind, but you must understand that there is no choice in all of this. The sooner Lady Mara understands her destiny, the better for us all. I am truly sorry if I have upset her, but the facts cannot be changed. She will be my wife.”

“No!” Mara screamed. “I will not marry you! ’Tis Kirk I love and Kirk I shall marry!”

“Mara, love,” Lily rushed at her, trying to calm her down. “Please do not….”

Mara ripped free of sweet Lily’s grasp, hurling herself towards the lancet window. Before anyone could stop her, she leapt up into the window sill.

“I shall throw myself to the ground if you intend to go through with this… thisoutrage,” she cried. The tears were beginning to come now, fast and furious. “Edmund had no right to make such a contract. Kirk will be my husband, do you hear? I will not marry you.”

Lionel could see that she was beyond rational. “Lady Mara, please calm yourself,” he pleaded. “I understand your feelings for Kirk. I like Kirk a great deal. But in marriage, feelings do not come in to play. You must understand that this is for the best.”

“The best?” Mara shrieked. “The best for you but not for me. You cannot force me to do this!”

“I am afraid you have no choice.”

“I will marry Kirk!”

“You will not. I am sorry, but you will not.”

“Then I will have no husband at all!”

Lily threw herself at Mara, grabbing her around the body and trying to pull her out of the windowsill. Lionel rushed to the pair, pulling them both out of the window, but Mara was like a wild animal. She screamed and fought and scratched as Lily tried to calm her and Lionel tried to talk reason to her. But she ended up sobbing, and Lily was sobbing, and Lionel had a mess on his hands. He tried to calm them both but neither one of them wanted anything to do with him. They huddled together on the floor and wept.

Defeated, disappointed, Lionel moved away from them and settled in a corner, watching them from the shadows. Mara’s reaction wasn’t surprising; he’d seen the way Mara and Kirk had looked at each other. But he was still convinced it was infatuation and still convinced that Marawould eventually see the advantages of a marriage to him. At least, that was the hope.

Spencer was upset with him. Lily was upset with him. Mara was shattered. Lionel could only imagine how Kirk was going to react but by the time he was informed, they would be married and there would be nothing he could do about it.

Yet, somehow he didn’t see Kirk Connaught simply fading away. It was just a feeling he had. He began to wonder what would kill him first; Kirk or the disease.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kirk could smellIreland before he ever saw the coast. The green, lush lands and softly rolling hills. When the three de Cleveley ships docked with their load of one thousand men, horses, wagons and supplies, Kirk found himself frantic to reach Wicklow. But it was a three hour march by his calculations and the army set forth at a strong pace.

Niles and Albert had charge of the advance party, sent ahead of the main army to determine the state of the Castle. Kirk and Corwin remained with the column, Corwin still terribly ill from his day-and-night trip across the Irish Sea. The sway of his charger only seemed to worsen his condition and Kirk ignored the man as he wretched bile over miles of rocky road.

Retching and burping that continued until they reached Wicklow. Niles and Albert met the army a mile out, indicating that a sizable rebel force was occupying the estate. Bringing his men to arms, Kirk lowered his visor and, with rage feeding his determination, spread his ranks into a sweeping pattern that marched on Wicklow like a plague of locusts.

The battle had been ugly from the start. The Irish rebels were prepared for the approach of the de Cleveley army and put up a hellish fight. Kirk lost Sir Albert in the first few hours of fighting, and Niles died in his arms just after midnight of the following day. A far too costly war, in Kirk’s opinion. And it only grew worse.

When dawn broke the next day, Kirk threw caution to the wind and sent a suicide force of men into the keep, literally burning the place free of invaders. He lost a good deal of seasoned men, mostly de Cleveley troops, but was rewarded with a full retreat of the enemy by noon. Licking their wounds, the rebels skulked into the surrounding countryside as Kirk raised the gray and yellow de Cleveley standard over the keep he had been born in.

His father’s impaled body had been the first sight greeting him upon entering the large, and now devastated, inner bailey. Ryan Connaught had been strung up by his wrists, spread between two large poles as an object of inspiration for the Irish insurgents. Kirk had promptly vomited at the sight and then ordered his father cut down. He himself carried the man to a resting place against the inner wall, tears falling on the corpse as he brushed away the flies and maggots.

But he had no time to spare his grief or his rage. Corwin located his two brothers, dirty and beaten, shackled in the moldering vault. But they were alive and unharmed for the most part, greeting Kirk with kisses and tears.The eldest Connaught learned that his mother had been taken by the rebels, her whereabouts unknown. A short search of the surrounding area had discovered the woman murdered, and Kirk’s rage developed into full-blow madness.

The second night after nearly two days of continuous fighting, Kirk, Steven and Drew found themselves on the battlements as six hundred English troops patrolled the grounds and Castle perimeter. To gaze at the three men would have been to notice identical characteristics, an expression here or a gesture there. Whereas Kirk and Drew had similar coloring and features, Steven was fair, his blue eyes and blond hair in direct contrast to his brothers’ dark countenance.