Maveen, Silus’ wife, was hanging clothes on the line as the
man she and her husband had adopted as one of their own came up the stone
steps, which led to her home. Putting one hand to her hip, the other to her
forehead, she shielded her eyes from the bright sun that had driven away the
storm clouds from the day before and knew right off the young man was angry.
She suspected the cause and sighed.
“What happened?” she asked as Taegin reached her.
“Someone set fire to a stack of lumber last night,” the
Tiogar said with a growl.
“And I think we know who that someone is,” Maveen stated.
“Daniel said the village ran her off,” he said. “Do you know
where she went?”
Maveen shook her head. “No, and I don’t think it’s a good
idea that you go hunting her, lad. Best to leave this to the constable.”
“I can’t prove she did it,” he countered.
“Can’t prove she didn’t, neither,” Maveen retorted.
“Constable O’Malley will know right off who the guilty party is, son. You don’t
have another enemy in Comhcheol.”
“That I know about,” Taegin said, plowing his fingers
through hair that had already been tousled many times over the last few hours.
“That anyone here would know about,” she reminded him.
“Comhcheol isn’t that big that we wouldn’t hear if someone was after you.”
“It’s my problem, Mave,” he said. “I have to handle it.”
“Silus is down to the Reillys helping to pull a calf, but if
he was here, he’d advise against you going looking for that whorish woman,”
Maveen said with a sniff of disdain for the subject. “Best you leave well
enough alone and let Jamie O’Malley see to warning her off.”
Taegin looked up at the verdant mountains that ran along the
northern section of Siocháin County. “She’s up there, I take it.”
Maveen shrugged. “Somewhere, I reckon, but there’s a rabbit
warren of caves in those mountains. The whole southern side of Mount Gogadh is
honeycombed with them.” She turned her head to survey the mountain. “Must be
over a hundred or more up there from what Silus once told me. None of them have
ever been mapped as I know of.”
“I can’t let her plague me, Mave. I won’t let her do so,” he
stated, his jaw clenched, a muscle grinding in his cheek.
“That’s understandable, but if you go up there looking for
her, you might not come back down, lad,” she warned.
Taegin tore his attention from the mountain and settled it
on Kale’s mother. “You believe she’d do me harm?”
“I believe she’s crazy enough to do so. You know what they
say about a scorned woman, lad.”
“Hell hath no fury like one, eh?” he provided.
“And that little witch hasn’t ever been known for being a
levelheaded woman,” Maveen reminded him. “What she wanted, she went after with
a single-minded obsession ‘til she got it, and the only thing I know of she
wanted more than anything else was you.”
Taegin flinched. “I never promised to make her my wife,
Mave.”
“You didn’t have to,” Maveen said. “She heard in your
words—or the lack of ‘em—what she wanted to hear. She considered you hers and
let every woman in Comhcheol know it.”
“Do you think she’s dangerous?” he asked in a soft voice.
“To you? Aye. To your lady? Possibly.”
“I don’t care about me, but if she tries to harm Marin—”
“I’m not saying she might not think on it, might even
fantasize about it, but you’re the one she’s mad at. She’ll want to hurt you
like she fancies you hurt her.”
“Aye, and the worst way to hurt me would be through Marin,”
the Tiogar reasoned. “I think I need to talk to her personally, Maveen.”
“I advise against it, but you’re a grown man, lad. I reckon
you’ll do what you think is best,” Maveen said with a slow shake of her head.
She locked eyes with him. “Just promise me you’ll go on in to the village and
speak to Jamie O’Malley or at least send one of my boys in to talk with him.
You need to make him aware of what went on out to your place.”
Taegin nodded, took a few steps closer to the older woman,
bent down and kissed her weathered cheek. “Thank you for you advice, milady,”
he said.
Maveen blushed and swatted at him as he turned to go. “You
two are coming to
an Domhnacn
dinner, aren’t you?” she called after him.
“And miss your legendary baked ham and sweet potatoes?” he
yelled back at her. “No way!”
She waved goodbye, her face creased with worry as she
watched him disappear into the forest that separated her place from the land
she and Silus had given Taegin. Sometimes—she thought as she returned to her
wash—men refused to see the forest for the trees, and she feared this was just
such a time with Taegin Drae.
* * * * *
Kali slipped behind a tall banyon tree as she spied on the
woman who had ruined her life. The blonde was beginning to tan and to Kali nothing
was more distasteful than a bronze sheen on a woman’s skin. Her own pale flesh
was ideally suited to her flame-red hair and sun only brought out unsightly
freckles so Kali was careful to cover up in the harsh months of summer. Since
reaching her thirtieth year, she’d taken to bathing in buttermilk—believing the
liquid would help to keep her flesh soft and supple. Unfortunately, it also
gave Kali a slightly sour smell. Thankfully, she was down wind of the trio who
were waiting for Taegin to return from wherever he’d taken himself off to.
“To Simple Silus’, no doubt, to tell the old man what
happened,” Kali mumbled to herself.
“Could have been lightning,” Daniel McGregor surmised.
“It was set,” Burl, the cripple, decreed. “There’s a smell
of kerosene on the wood.”
“Taegin believes it was that woman,” the one called Marin
suggested.
“
That
woman,” Kali hissed, her nails digging into the
tree, “has a name!”
“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Burl said. “She’s been known to
do some pretty hateful things.”
“He thinks he should talk to her.”
Daniel—the last male Kali had fucked before being run out of
the village—took off his straw hat and scratched his head. “I don’t think
that’s a good idea. Do you, Burl?”
The cripple cocked a shoulder. “I don’t know the woman well
enough to make an educated guess.”
“You know me well enough to have humped me a half-dozen
times or more,” Kali seethed.
“I’m ashamed to say I went to her cottage a few times,” Burl
admitted. “All she ever talked about was Taegin and when Taegin would return to
Comhcheol. My thoughts are she’s madder than a Márta hare and this is only
going to get worse before it gets any better.”
Daniel ducked his head. “I was with her the night O’Malley
came to tell her to get out of the village,” the young man said. “If da and ma
knew, they’d skin me alive.”
Marin whistled. “Both of you have slept with her?”
“More’n half the men in the village have,” Burl answered.
“Those unattached, I mean.”
“And some what aren’t,” Daniel said softly. “I’m ashamed I
laid with her too, Burly.”
Hearing the men say such things hurt Kali deeply and tears
entered her violet eyes. She didn’t want to listen to any more upsetting things
and slipped quietly away, her dark green cloak melded into the lush forest. She
was long gone by the time Taegin returned to the cove fifteen minutes later.
“I went into the village and spoke with the constable,” he
told his wife and friends. “He doesn’t know where Kali is living, but he’ll be
on the lookout for her and has asked his deputies to do the same.”
“She’s a sly one, Taegin,” Burl told him. “I think you need
to post guards here until the hut is finished.”
“You think she’ll try to burn the hut?” Marin asked with
eyes wide.
“No,” Taegin said. “A stack of lumber is one thing, a
building is another.” He turned to look at the wood that was still smoldering.
“My guess is that was her invitation to come talk with her.”
“Do you not sense her?” Marin asked. “Can’t you read her
thoughts?”
The men exchanged a glance and it was Burl who told Marin of
the mysterious headband Kali wore every moment of her life.
“It’s made of iron,” Burl explained. “It’s said her mother
placed it on her when she came of age so the women of the village would not be
able to intercept her thoughts.”
“Can they do that?” Marin asked, a deep blush passing over
her face.
“They can among their own,” Taegin replied. “Kali was
initiated into the Multitude when she was thirteen.”
“Just as every woman in Comhcheol was,” Daniel supplied.
“Multitude?” Marin questioned. “Do you mean the Daughters of
the Multitude?” She looked from one masculine face to another in astonishment.
“I thought that was an old wife’s tale. They don’t really exist, do they?”
“They do in Contúirtia as well as many other countries,”
Taegin told her. “The only world where I know the Multitude never existed was
on Riochas.” He gave her a querying look. “Surely some of your friends were
daughters of Daughters.”
“If they were, they never mentioned it,” Marin said. “So
iron will keep her thoughts from being read?” At Taegin’s nod, she asked if it
also meant he could not send sublims to her.
“No, that I can’t do and it’s probably a good thing
considering how angry I am at her right now,” he answered. “The headband also
keeps her from reading the thoughts of others so she’s never known what I was
thinking, else she most likely would have driven a dagger into my heart long
ago.”
“Don’t say that!” Marin commanded.
Taegin reached out and pulled his wife to him. “Don’t worry,
wench. I’m not going to allow anything to come between us, especially not a
jealous bitch or her spite.”
Marin clung to her husband. She felt cold despite the heat
of the summer day. With her head pressed against his chest, she could hear the
steady beat of his stalwart heart—slow and calm like the man who possessed
hers. She had to trust he knew what was best for them and, if had no worries
about Kali, she would do her best to relax and show him a confidence she didn’t
feel.
Chapter Twelve
An Domhnach
meals at the McGregor hut were an
experience to be savored. Maveen’s smoked ham was succulent in its juices,
ringed with whole new potatoes and parsnips that had been baked in with the ham
and bore the meat’s smoky flavor. A mixture of three types of greens had been
cooked with a cured ham hock and were steaming hot. Floating amid the pot
liquor from the greens were doughboys—a plump dumpling made of flour, salt and
water, and dropped by the tablespoon into the boiling liquid. Buttery corn on
the cob was piled high on a platter beside a heaping dish of beets in orange
sauce. Tomatoes fresh from the garden lay sliced beside stalks of green onion,
celery and carrots as a relish tray. Pickled crabapples, spiced whole peaches
and gingered pears sat in a large crystal dish. With no hard liquor allowed in
the McGregor home, pitchers of cold milk stood handy to fill the tall goblets
of the diners. If anyone left Maveen McGregor’s table hungry, it was his or her
own fault.
“By the gods, I’m stuffed,” Silus McGregor pronounced as he
pushed his plate away and rubbed his protruding belly. “Chalk yourself up
another dandy meal, woman of the house.”
Maveen nodded and passed the last of the tomatoes to Burl to
finish up. Precious little was left of the food on the table when her menfolk
all sat down together on their day of rest.
Kale’s wife Phaedra offered—as she always did—to help clear
the table, but it was an ironclad rule in the McGregor house that on
an
Domhnach
the women cooked and the men cleaned up. Maveen shooed her and
Marin out to the back porch where a cool breeze wafted and a tall, iced pitcher
of lemonade awaited the womenfolk.
“You outdid yourself, Maveen,” Marin complimented the older
woman. “I’ll never be able to cook like that.”
“Your man has a hollow leg,” Maveen said with a snort as she
seated herself in the oversized rocker that had been her wedding present from
Silus’ mother. “You’d best learn to cook well and quickly, lass. I taught Phae
and I can teach you.”
Phaedra smiled, cupping her burgeoning belly in a light
embrace. Having gotten with child on the night of Taegin and Marin’s Joining,
Kale’s wife was as content as a sow in mud. She sniffed the air. “There’s a
strange smell in the air. Almost smells like tar. Do you smell it, Ma?”
“The Hamptons are thatching their roof. Most likely that’s
what you smell,” Maveen—who knew every ounce of village gossip—informed her
daughter-in-law. She picked up her crocheting, her fingers flying through the
stitches.
“I thought maybe someone had found the witch and was tarring
her,” Phaedra said with a giggle.
Maveen snorted. “Wouldn’t hurt my feelings none if that was
the case.”
“Are you talking about Kali?” Marin asked.
The women looked at one another then at Marin. It was Maveen
who nodded. “Don’t like using that woman’s name. Most of the female population
of Comhcheol considers it a bad omen to do so.”
“Yet she’s one of you, isn’t she?”
Maveen’s lips pursed. “If you’re talking of the Daughters,
aye, she was one of us until the Great Lady dismissed her from the group.” Her
eyes narrowed. “If your meaning is that she’s one of the women of Comhcheol, we
don’t claim her as such and never have.”
“May I ask why?” Marin inquired.
“Why do you want to know about her, Marin? Isn’t that
borrowing trouble?” Phaedra asked. “I’ve never inquired about Kale’s women
before he took me as his sweetheart. I didn’t care to know.”
Maveen stopped crocheting. “Phaedra Boyle McGregor!” she
said. “You and my Kale were sweet on one another when the two of you were
running around in diapers. There’s never been another woman in his life save
you!” She pointed her crochet hook at Phaedra. “And don’t think I don’t know
what went on up in them mountains when Kale was running with Taegin years
back.”