The Darkland (34 page)

“With me!” he roared.
“Lily, let her go!”

The sounds of broadsword
against broadsword filled the room, especially when Kirk and Spencer crashed
into the massive wardrobe and sent it smashing over onto the floor.  Wood
exploded all over the room as Kirk managed to grab Spencer by the neck and
throw him down onto the demolished pile.  Micheline and the twins screamed,
trying to move away from the fight, as the battle for Mara not only went on in
front of them but also continued at the door.

Unfortunately, Lionel
was stronger than his daughter and he had Mara in a painful position, so he was
able to wrest her through the door and away from Lily.  Lily, horrified and
distraught, moved to follow.

“Kirk!” she cried. “He
is taking her to the great hall to marry her! You must help her!”

Kirk heard the words
and, with a frustrated roar, kicked Spencer as the man tried to get up.  It was
enough of a blow to cause Spencer to roll several feet away as Kirk made a
break for the door.  But Spencer somehow ended up on his knees and picked up a
piece of the broken wardrobe, hurling it at Kirk.  The wood caught him in the
legs and knocked him down to one knee, giving Spencer enough time to run at him
with his broadsword wielded.  Kirk avoided two heavy blows as he struggled to
his feet and the battle went on.

Lily had already run
from the chamber, following her father and Mara.  Mara’s angry screams were
echoing off the walls as Lionel dragged her down the stairs.  Kirk, however, had
his hands full with Spencer; as much as he was frantic to rush to Mara’s aid,
he was in a mortal battle.  He needed to subdue Spencer before he could go
after Mara. 

But time was ticking.

***

Lionel got Mara as far
as the entry to the great hall.  There was some decorative iron railing in the
wall and as Lionel pulled her through the entry, Mara reached out and grabbed
it. It prevented Lionel from pulling her any further as she held on for dear
life, screaming with pain as he yanked on her hair.  When Lionel realized the
hair wasn’t doing him any good, he wrapped his arms around her slender waist
and tried to yank her free that way.  Mara tried to kick him in the groin.

Lily, too, was working
against him. She came up behind her father, jumped on his back, and wrapped her
arms around his neck.  She squeezed and squeezed, and Lionel was close to
blacking out.  He finally had to let go of Mara in order to dislodge his
daughter.  With Lionel occupied, Mara let go of the iron and ran for her life.

She raced back up the
stairs to where Kirk and Spencer were still doing battle, only now they were
out in the corridor destroying everything in their path.  Mara didn’t want to
cry out to Kirk and distract him, as she had done the last time Kirk and Spencer
battled, because she well remembered what happened that time. Therefore, she
ducked into the nearest chamber, hoping to find a weapon.  If Lionel laid
another hand on her, she was going to make the man pay.

She ended up in a spare
chamber, small but nicely furnished.  A quick and panicked perusal of the room
showed that there were no weapons available.  There was, however, a fire poker
and shovel.  Mara raced to the hearth and collected the iron poker.  Taking a
deep breath for courage, she ran back to the chamber door because she could
hear the battle drawing closer. It was loud and frightening.

Mara was fully prepared
to brain Spencer so Kirk could get the upper hand. But what happened next was
not as she had planned; it occurred faster than she could comprehend. Soon, it
was all spiraling out of control into deadly oblivion.

When she threw open the
panel, Kirk and Spencer were right there. In fact, they were practically on top
of her.  Kirk, seeing Mara in the doorway, was distracted long enough for
Spencer to take a huge swipe at his head.  Kirk ducked in the nick of time but
in doing so, hit his head on the wall and nearly knocked himself out because he
was without his helm.  He had left it back on his charger when he had arrived
at Quernmore.

Mara, seeing Kirk go down,
threw herself at Spencer, poker and all, and sent the man sideways into the
opposite wall just as Lionel came racing around the corner.  The old man was
without Lily hanging all over him, running headlong into a battle without a
weapon or any armor. 

Kirk, dazed as he was,
only saw a body. Assuming it was Spencer, he threw up his broadsword and Lionel
ran right into it. In the blink of an eye, Lionel was impaled through the gut
on the tip of Kirk’s massive broadsword.

Lionel groaned as the
steel blade carved through him. Mara, hearing the sound, stopped beating up on
Spencer and they both turned to see Lionel standing in the corridor with Kirk
at his feet and a broadsword through his belly. He was just standing there as
if he could not comprehend that he had just been mortally wounded. But swiftly,
reality set in as he began to bleed out all over the floor.  Blood gushed down
his legs and onto the wood.  His shocked gaze found Mara, who stood equally
shocked gazing back at him.

Lionel smiled weakly at
her. “All I wanted,” he breathed, “was a son….”

With that, he fell
forward, quite dead, against Kirk.  Kirk grabbed hold of the man and lowered
him carefully to the ground. All they could do was stare at the deceased lord
of Quernmore Castle. As swiftly and violently as the battle had begun, it was
over. The sudden stillness was overwhelming.

For the longest time, no
one said a word. They just stared at Lionel.  Kirk moved first; he removed his
broadsword from Lionel’s soft belly, almost gently. There was a good deal of
regret there. His gaze lingered on the man for a moment before turning to
Spencer.

“This does not please
me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I did not intend to kill him like this.”

Spencer looked down at
his liege. “I realize that,” he said.  Exhausted, ill, shocked at the turn of
events, he clumsily sheathed his broadsword and slumped back against the wall.
“He did it to himself, Kirk. I have always known the man to be stubborn and
willful, but never foolish. But… perhaps it is better this way.”

“What do you mean?” Kirk
asked.

Spencer’s focus moved to
Lionel, crumpled on the floor. “He was not being entirely selfish,” he said
softly. “I know it looks that way, but he confided in me recently that he was
dying.  He saw this marriage to Mara as his last chance to have a son to
replace Michael and preserve his legacy, but it seemed as if whatever
desperation he felt turned to madness over the past few days. He simply wasn’t
himself. It was the despair of a dying man, if that is of any comfort. So
perhaps it is better that he meet his end quickly rather than looking forward
to months of agony as his life slipped away.”

Kirk’s expression was
serious. “Is this true?” he asked. “He was dying?”

“Aye.”

“Of what?”

“A mass in his belly.
Already, his legs were growing numb and he was in great pain. Ask the castle
physic if you do not believe me.”

Kirk looked at Lionel’s
crumpled form through new eyes. He sighed heavily. “Although I am not without
sympathy, it still does not excuse what he surely must have put Mara through.
If I had not returned when I did, she would be Lady le Vay.”

“That is true.”

“That selfish behavior
is not the man I knew.”

“Nor I. Attribute it to
his illness if you must.”

Kirk’s gaze moved to
Mara. Still standing against the wall next to Spencer, her lower lip was
trembling as she looked at the man she loved with all of her heart.  She
dropped the fire poker and went to Kirk, collapsing into his embrace
tearfully.  As they held one another, in exhaustion and in joy, far down the
hall, Micheline poked her head out of the chamber with the twisted door.  The
sudden silence in the corridor had prompted her to find out why.

“Kirk?” she called
fearfully, seeing the collection of people at the end of the darkened corridor.
“What has happened? Where is my sister?”

Mara let go of Kirk and
ran down the hallway to her sister, sobbing as she threw herself into the
woman’s embrace. The women hugged fiercely.

“Misha,” Mara wept. “I
did not think I was going to ever see you again.”

Micheline smiled as she
held her baby sister. “Of course you would see me again,” she said calmly,
soothingly. “What has happened? Where is Lord le Vay?”

“Dead,” Kirk replied for
Mara. “He is here, Misha, at my feet.”

Micheline could see a
body in the dim hall.  “Did… did you kill him because he married Mara?”

“He did not marry Mara.
He did not have the chance.”

Micheline’s gaze
lingered on Kirk before returning to her sister. Things were still confusing,
but Kirk and Spencer were no longer fighting and she found that she was most
grateful for that.  In truth, she had been quite worried for Spencer.

“It would seem that
there was a good deal of madness going on here at Quernmore,” she said to Mara.
“Would you care to tell me all that has happened?”

Mara nodded, wiping at
her eyes, but Kirk spoke from down the hall.

“She can tell you
everything tonight at the wedding feast,” he said wearily, making his way down
the hall and reaching out to collect Mara. “Right now, I understand there is a
priest in the great hall. I intend he should marry Mara and I this very
moment.”

Mara clutched his hand
tightly, even tighter when he led her past Lionel as if afraid the man would
rear up and grab her.  Kirk took Mara and Micheline down to the great hall as
Spencer, Wanda, and Valdine tended to Lord Lionel.

They found Lily tied to
a chair near the mouth of the great hall, courtesy of her angry father.  Kirk
untied her and tried to explain what had happened as gently as possible. It
wasn’t gentle enough; Lily burst into hysterical sobs and raced upstairs to find
her father being cared for by Spencer and the twins.  Although she did not
agree with what her father had done, she still loved him and wept bitterly over
his accidental death. He was all the family she had left.

Lily stayed with her
father’s body throughout the marriage ceremony between Mara and Kirk.  Mara,
although joyful that she now had a new husband that she loved with all of her
heart, was nonetheless distraught over her friend’s sadness and instead of a
wedding night with her very exhausted husband, she sat with Lily all night,
comforting her friend just as Lily had spent so much time comforting her.  It
was the right thing to do.

That night, the hellion
finally grew up as her husband slept hard and dreamlessly in their marriage
bed, snoring loud enough to rattle the doors. He missed his wife, of course,
but he understood as well as encouraged her compassion towards the woman she
had once hated jealously. 

Now, there was no more
jealousy or pain.  The love that Kirk and Mara had for one another had come
full circle and a bright future was on the horizon. No more horror, no more
Darkland.

Kirk, as well as Mara,
finally came to know peace.

Epilogue

The day was balmy and
bright, and a strong breeze blew in off the Irish Sea, snapping the standards
of Bowland that flew over Wicklow Castle.   The smell of salt was in the air
along with a hint of warmth, as the summer season had proven oddly warm during the
middle of the day.  This morning promised the same weather pattern as the
inhabitants of Wicklow went about their business before it grew sticky.

Kirk entered the cool
confines of the enormous keep.  He had been in the bailey seeing to their
baggage, for a cog was moored less than a mile away that would take them to the
green fields of England.  It had been a trip long planned to visit Micheline
and he was anxious to get on with the travel while the weather held good. With
baggage and possessions loaded, now it was time to load up his family.  With
four young children, that would be the tricky part.

He hadn’t taken five
steps into the keep when he came to a halt and looked around at his feet as if
he was missing something.  Retracing his steps, his intense gaze roamed the
bailey as he shielded the sun from his eyes.

“Ryan?” he called.

A moment later, a small
boy with dark hair leapt onto the stone steps. He was a sturdy lad, five years
of age, and in his arms he carried puppy.  The dog’s long body trailed down,
the hindquarters swinging as Ryan mounted the steps.  Kirk frowned.

“Where on earth did you
get that?” he asked.

Ryan Connaught turned
his handsome young face to his father.  “There was a dog that had puppies by
the smithy shack,” he told his father excitedly. “I took one!”

Kirk cocked an eyebrow.
“I can see that,” he said as the boy drew close and extended the puppy for his
father’s inspection. “A fine beast. But you must return him to his mother.”

Ryan’s expression fell,
looking much like his mother when her wishes were denied. “Papa, I want to take
him with us,” he said sincerely.

Kirk shook his head. He
started to reply but was cut short by first one scream and then another.  Kirk
turned towards the direction of the screams in time to see one of his daughters
shooting out of the keep entry and bash into his legs.  When he reached down to
steady her, another daughter ran up on her heels and he grabbed them both to
keep them from tumbling down the stairs.

“Regan!” Came the cry
from inside the keep. “Bridget! Stop immediately!”

Fortunately, Kirk had
the two year old and three year old girls by the arms as Mara emerged from the
keep, holding several pieces of garments in her hands. Kirk looked at her
curiously until he realized his daughters were only half-dressed.

“You are only now
dressing them?” he asked his wife with strained patience. “We are supposed to
be departing shortly. What is taking so long?”

Mara cast him an
exasperated look. “The baby is screaming and these two will not stand still,”
she said as she grasped Regan by the arm. “They are both trying to climb onto
the windowsill for some reason. I would pull one out and the other one would
climb up.”

Kirk smirked. “They get
that particular trait from their mother.”

Mara didn’t see his
humor. “We are going to have to do something about putting shutters over their
windows,” she said. “I am terrified that they are going to fall out of the
windows.”

He looked down at the
dark-haired babies at his feet. “I will see what I can do,” he said. “But they
really should be dressed by now. We must depart.”

“Then it would be very
helpful if you could lend a hand.”

Kirk gave his wife a
smile as he grasped the toddlers by the hands and led them gently back into the
keep.

“You tend the baby,
love,” he told her. “I will take the poppets in-hand.”

Mara reached down and
scooped Bridget up. “Bridgie still needs her hose and shoes, and Regan needs
nearly everything else,” she said as she watched Kirk pick up Regan. “I think
she has a splinter in her toe; see?”

Kirk looked at the foot
his wife was holding up into his face, kissing the dirty little foot as Regan
squirmed and whined.

“I will get it out,” he
said softly. “I’ll not let my baby suffer.”

Mara called out to her
son, who rushed past his mother up the stairs, still holding the puppy. Mara
called to him again but he ignored her, instead taking the puppy into his
chamber and trying to hide him behind his bed. 

As Kirk took care of
Regan’s splinter, Mara went into the bed chamber occupied by her sons and wanted
to know why Ryan had the puppy stuffed under his bed, but the little lad, being
rather persuasive, was able to convince his mother that the puppy was a
necessary fixture in his room.  Mara didn’t have the patience to argue with him
mostly because her ten month old son, Brendan, was screaming his lungs out in
his pen on the opposite side of the chamber.  She picked the baby up,
comforting him.

With the baby in her
arms, Mara went into the girls’ chamber to hurry her husband along but found
herself watching him interact with his daughters instead.  Over the past five
years, Kirk, the big Irish knight with the big voice, had turned into an
incredibly soft and attentive father. 

In a world where most
men didn’t participate in child rearing, Kirk had gone out of his way to be a
part of his children’s world.  Ryan was his shadow, Regan and Bridget were his
loves, and baby Brendan, with dark hair and his father’s gray eyes, was usually
a fixture in his arms.  While Mara had little patience sometimes, Kirk’s
patience was infinite, and it made her love him all the more.

She watched him as he
plucked the splinter out, kissing and hugging the little girl as he proceeded
to pull her little hose on and tie on her little leather shoes. Regan was the
oldest at three and a half years, and she was very much her father’s daughter,
but Bridget, at nearly two and a half, was the image of her mother in both
looks and manner.  As Kirk tried to tie up the last of Regan’s shoe, Bridget
wormed her way onto his lap and plopped down. Kirk simply worked around her.

“The boys are dressed
and ready,” Mara said, entering the room with Brendan on her hip. “Do you need
any help?”

Finished with the shoe,
he managed to pull a light linen tunic over Regan’s head and set her on her
feet.

“I do not,” he said,
taking a similar linen tunic off the bed beside him and pulling that one over
Bridget’s dark head. “I believe we are finished.”

He stood up and Mara
handed him the baby as she collected soft-knit caps from the bed and pulled
them over her daughter’s heads.  With the children finally dressed and ready,
she surveyed the room to make sure she didn’t forget anything.

“Did you pack the
parcels for Micheline?” she asked Kirk. “The ones with the baby clothes in
them?”

Kirk nodded patiently,
going out into the corridor to make sure Ryan was removing the puppy from his
chamber. “They were loaded,” he replied. “Drew put the packages on himself.”

“Are your brothers going
with us?”

“They are not. I need
someone here to manage Wicklow while we are away.”

Mara nodded in
understanding, still thinking on their baggage. “I do not want to forget those
packages,” she said as she took her daughters by the hand. “I spent a good deal
of time making all of those items for the new baby. If we forget them, I shall
be heart-sick.”

Kirk was instructing his
eldest son to remove the dog to the yard below, making sure the boy was heading
down the stairs with the puppy before turning to his wife.

“The new baby has plenty
of clothes, I am sure,” he said. “In fact, the last missive I had from Spencer
said that the baby had more clothes than he did before he was even born.”

Mara was undeterred. “It
is their first son,” she said. “Remember how you felt when Ryan was born? You
wanted him to have the very best of everything.”

Kirk took the stairs
with the baby in his arms, making sure to help his wife and daughters down
behind him.

“He
did
have the
best of everything,” he said flatly. “In fact, Ryan had more clothes than I did
before he was even a month old. Why does a baby need so many clothes?”

Mara cocked a dark
eyebrow. “This is not just
any
baby,” she said. “He is Michael Lionel
Edward de Shera, heir to Anchorsholme Castle and the Bowland barony.  You know
that Micheline’s pregnancy was difficult. There is much to celebrate with my
nephew’s arrival.”

Kirk eased up somewhat;
he knew that Spencer and Micheline had suffered some disappointment prior to
little Michael’s birth.  A daughter, Amelia, was born not quite a year after
they were married but Micheline had suffered two miscarriages before Michael
was finally born. Aye, there was much to celebrate, even if his wife had gone
overboard with all of the little garments she had made the child.

His wife.
  Kirk watched Mara as
she came off the stairs, shepherding the children towards the entry of
Wicklow’s mighty keep with her firm, confident manner.  Even though he was lord
of Wicklow Castle now, maintaining the Irish lands for Micheline and her
husband, the best part of it was Mara. He could lose everything but as long as
he still had her and their children, he was a rich man indeed. He adored her
more than words could express.

Life over the past few
years had been rich and eventful. The wickedness that had once been the
Darkland was now transformed into something strong and respectable, and the
dark whispers that used to follow them around no longer existed.  Micheline and
Spencer had seen to that, and a new generation was being born, a generation
that would carry on the new tradition of Anchorsholme Castle and her benevolent
lords.

When Kirk had first
spied that dark-haired lass hanging from the battlements of Haslingden those
years ago, never could he have imagined what that hellion of a woman would come
to mean to him.  The trials, tribulations, and fears that they had gone through
in order to achieve their paradise had been difficult but worth the struggle.
Kirk couldn’t even remember those chaotic days any longer. They seemed like a
nightmare, long past.

The baby cooed and he
looked down into that handsome little face, seeing his strong Irish heritage
mixed with Mara’s warm English blood.  He saw his father in that little face,
his mother, and ancestors long passed.  He saw the future.  He saw his life. He
saw every dream he had ever possessed in a living, breathing form.

Mara called to him and
he took his gaze off the baby, once again focused on his lovely wife.  With a
smile and a return wave, he headed off in her direction. He was looking forward
to this visit to reconnect with his sister in law and her husband, and of the
good people that now populated Anchorsholme.  Wanda, Valdine, Corwin, and even
the former servant children Robert, Fiona, Gilly and George… they would all be
there. Perhaps even Lily and her husband would visit from Quernmore.  Kirk was
looking forward to seeing them all again.

Life was good and the
Darkland, for all concerned, was no longer dark.

It had become home.