Authors: L.E. Waters
Tags: #Spanish Armada, #Renaissance Italy, #heaven, #reincarnation, #reincarnation fantasy, #fantasy series, #soul mate, #Redmond O'Hanlon, #Infinite Series, #spirituality, #Lucrezia Borgia, #past life, #Irish Robin Hood, #Historical Fantasy, #Highwayman, #time travel, #spirit guide
Alvaro hits the mast and grabs at his side in great pain as Andres and I go rolling across to starboard. I reach for Andres right away. I’m relieved to see he’s fine.
“Bella!” Andres screams. We both look around and see her run up from the hold.
The captain hurries to us. “Boys, jump right away and swim to shore! Before those ships catch up!” He pushes us back to the side closest to shore.
It looks so far away. Andres is petrified again, and he clings to Bella in his arms. Alvaro comes up holding his side, sucking in short quick breaths to avoid pain.
Seeing his wound, the captain asks, “Can you swim?”
“Do I have a choice?” Alvaro answers, annoyed.
The captain helps me up on the railing, and Andres backs away, but Alvaro takes Bella and, with great pain, throws her over the side.
We both gasp. “Bella!”
Alvaro says, “Now that will get you to jump.”
Andres gets up immediately on the railing and we both look down at the black angry water and then glance back at each other.
“One! Two! Three!” we yell again, and I pull him off into the water with me.
This time I come up holding his hand, and he starts to flail in the water.
“Luis! Luis!” He panics.
“Right here, I’ve got you!” I say as I struggle to hold him.
“Bella! Where’s Bella!” he sputters.
I turn and see the white face right behind me, paddling toward me.
“Good girl, Bella!” we both cry as we see the captain and Alvaro jump off. Alvaro swims slowly and grimaces with every movement to us. But the captain can’t be found. Alvaro sights him first, way ahead of us, floating on a piece of wood.
“Lucky bastard!” he screams to him.
The captain screams back, “Find a piece of flotsam and swim like hell to shore!”
We search around for any wood and can’t see any. I start going completely under, trying to keep Andres’s head above water, when Alvaro takes him and puts him on his back, and judging by his sharp breaths, I guess it was no easy feat.
“Let’s go,” Alvaro says, and we try to fight the current.
Shots ring out, and I glance back to see the Dutch are right behind us.
“They’re shooting at us!” Andres screams.
Alvaro says, “Keep swimming. Don’t look back!”
Bella’s ahead of all of us, completely focused on getting to shore. But the shots are hitting closer and closer to us as I hear the all too familiar groaning of our ship breaking to pieces.
Alvaro, seeing that the shots are getting closer and closer, making strange wet
thrwep
sounds in the water, takes Andres off his back and struggles to float him in front of him by holding him by his scruff.
He barks out to me, “Just try to get out of range”—and then
thrwep
! Alvaro reels in pain.
“Alvaro!” Andres screams.
“Alvaro!” I cry, slightly ahead of them. He drops Andres immediately and holds his side.
“Boys, keep going or you’re dead!” he says, his face twisted in agony.
I swim back and see Andres is merely a head, treading water, and try to get my arm around him and pull him, but he screams, “No! We have to help Alvaro!”
But I look at Alvaro and see death in his normally brilliant indigo eyes. His mouth’s full of blood, his breathing’s getting shorter and shorter.
“Leave!” he screams out with all his energy.
I turn and start dragging Andres forward, but he keeps crying, “Alvaro! Alvaro!”
I try not to think about him and struggle to get out of range like Alvaro said. The bullets stop sounding so close, and when I have a moment to look back, I see Alvaro is not where we had left him. Andres begins sobbing, and I turn to see if I can see the captain. I can’t see him anywhere. I spin around in a circle and can’t see one survivor anywhere. Bella, not wanting to lose me, swims back and she makes me move forward again.
“Andres, can you kick at all and help me?” I say, feeling like I’m not going to keep us both afloat much longer.
“Yeah, I’ll try,” he says as he tries to kick his legs vigorously.
We swim and struggle through the choppy water, but the shore keeps staying far away. I can’t understand why, since we’d been able to get away from the boat, but something was keeping us from the beach.
“Luis… I’m… freezing!” Andres chatters.
“Me too,” I say as my teeth begin to chatter.
“I don’t… think… we’re getting… any closer, Luis.”
“We have to keep going,” I say as a wave comes over my head, making me cough.
“Luis… we’re… not going… to make it.”
“Come on,” I say, trying to pull him with all the strength I have.
The waves start to get choppier the closer we get to the shelf of the shore, and my muscles begin atrophying from stress and cold. Every movement’s stiff and painful.
“Andres?” I ask, not hearing his voice for a while.
Nothing.
“Andres!” I shake him, and he says, slow and weak, “Pepe?”
“Andres, wake up! We’re almost there!”
His head flops forward in the water, making him suck in some and start choking, bringing him to.
“Luis!” he screams, startled.
“Andres I’m still here! We’re going to make it! We’re almost there!” But a terrible muscle cramp seizes up my whole right leg. I have to stop and scream.
Andres says, wide-eyed, “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t move my leg!” I have to let go of Andres, who flounders immediately, and I only have my arms to keep me up.
“Luis, I can’t swim!” he sputters.
But the pain’s so great in my leg and I can barely keep my mouth above water. Andres’s head is bouncing under the surface and coming back up in coughs, so I try to hold on to him, but it brings us both under. I kick my good leg a bit and bring us back up for a breath.
Andres says, “I love you, Luis,” with his honey eyes welled up and tired.
I cry, “I love you, Andres.”
And we see Bella come and circle us worriedly, and we both say, “We love you, Bella,” as we both drift under the swell.
I open my eyes underwater and see his open eyes staring back at me, smiling, as I panic and suck in a mouthful of briny water that burns my lungs and makes me cough, only to suck in more water. Andres takes his last sea breath too, and everything goes black.
Seventh Life
Irish Robin Hood
Chapter 1
“Redmond! Don’t run so fast!” Art pants out way behind me.
The top of my body’s shaking with the speed as I run up and down the knolls and hollows of the valley I know so well. The wind’s coming down from the mountain ahead of me, making it hard to breathe. My eyes tear from the wet Irish air streaming past my face and through my shaggy hair, fanning the dark brown flames.
“We’re almost there!” I reach the top of the peak to see the forested valley and the Cusher River below.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and look across to the most beautiful sight I’ve ever known—Tandragee Castle. A fortress carved of rock, as long as the biggest ship, and as jagged as Christ’s wreath of thorns. A stone king looking out over the whole valley high on a mountain, as if only God could have placed it there.
Art comes up beside me and says as he’s bent over to catch air, “The sun’s just about disappeared. We’ll both be given all sorts for missing supper.”
“We’ve a bit of time to spare,” I say, squinting toward the sliver of orange sun still visible on the horizon.
“We’d better be heading home.” Art turns around and inches back down the slope.
Imagining the day when I can return where I belong, I say, “That is my home.”
“Arthur! Redmond!” Ma calls.
Coming over the last glowing green knoll, I see her, waving her thick arms toward us in front of the little thatched house. The light’s turning from the faintest bit of orange to purple, and I can tell Da has already shooed all the animals in the barn to bed.
“You two little scoundrels, you know your Da gets a sour stomach if his supper is late!” She hits me on the backside with her rag as I run through the door. “You going daft, child, you forgetting to wash?”
I sigh and walk back out to the washing trough by the side of the house. I plunge my brown hands into the cold water and rub them dry on the apron hanging on a nail.
Art’s already sitting beside the fire with his plate, Da’s resting in his rocking chair, and my plate’s on the small table Ma uses to prepare our meals. I take mine and sit beside Art. Ma brings Da his plate as he takes his pipe out and places it on the warm hearthstone for later.
“Thank you, Mary, but no thanks to you boys for the awful ache I’ll have tonight.”
Ma finally sits in her chair, and after Da gives a hurried grace, Art and I shovel in our stew and bread. When I begin to lick my plate, Ma chides, “Redmond! You’ve worse manners than that fat sow outside.”
Art and Da both laugh.
I put my plate down and lie back on the floor thinking of Tandragee. “Tell me the story of Lord O’Hanlon again.”
Ma puts her fork down, brings both of her hands up to her always rosy cheeks, and says with a sigh, “Oh, you ask me this every fortnight, Redmond. I think Arthur could probably recite every word, and he’s only been here for a month now.”
“Please, I won’t ask you to tell it for a while if you tell me tonight.” I try to give her all the charms of my eight-year-old face.
“Oh, well, there’s nothing else to speak of.” She unties her linen headdress, lets her auburn hair flow over her shoulder, and she seems ten years younger. Da now looks ancient next to her; he’s all bent in his chair from a lifetime of hard farm work. No one would guess he’s only two years her senior. “The O’Hanlon name’s as old as Ireland. Your great ancestors were the chieftains of a good bit of County Armagh. They ruled the largest and most fertile parts of these hills and valleys we see around us on our little farm now. Yes, sir, the very blood that runs in your veins is that of the mightiest of warriors and leaders—the Lords of Orior.” She holds her chin high and gives me a proud smile. “Your people built the castle you see upon that far mountain and named it Tandragee.” I love how she lengthens that word out dramatically, like some magic enchantment. “Then the English came with their guns and cannons and swept us from our castle, stole our lands, and polluted our culture.”