County Meath, Ireland - 1467
“We can surrender, or we can fight.”
Kieran MacAuley regarded his battered kinsmen
intently. In less than two hours’ time, their force of fifty had been halved. The
grim sounds of ongoing battle echoed through the trees, telling him the other
clans had fared no better than his own.
Trapped between the English
encampment and a formidable line of cavalry, their choices had been reduced to
two. Only the encroaching night gave them the reprieve they now enjoyed. King
Edward’s soldiers wouldn’t venture into the darkness of the forest to be picked
off like stiff-necked pigeons.
Kieran wanted to fight. Had
always wanted it, since he was a boy wrestling and playing at swords. The
challenges of battle fascinated him. Circling his opponent, trying to outguess
him, more oft than not besting him in the end. And now, he fought against the
English trying to impose their civilized ways on the wild beauty of Ireland.
But ’twas not his decision
alone. If the others chose differently, he’d abide by their wishes. Death
before dishonor held a more complex meaning for men with wives and children
waiting for them at home.
“I don’t know about the rest of
ye, but I’d ruther die standing than live on me knees.” Wiping his bloody sword
on his woolen trews, Peter rested a hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “Who’s with us?”
In less than a heartbeat, every
last one of them thrust his hand atop Peter’s. They clasped one another’s
wrists in a show of unity that made Kieran’s heart swell with pride.
The mark of a man’s courage came
when he acknowledged his fear and did what honor demanded of him. They could
die like rats whimpering in some prison camp or go down screaming their battle
cry. This day, the legend of the MacAuley would be plowed into the soil,
carried on the wind to be heard far and wide across the Isle.
Never would they be forgotten.
Darrin crouched at his side
and offered him a skin filled with water. “What’s yer plan?”
Kieran took a long swallow of
the cool water before answering. “First, we bury our brothers.”
Beneath the blood and
grime, Darrin’s scowl gave way to a smile. “So, ye have no plan.”
“Not yet. But this I can tell
you.” Kieran connected with each pair of determined eyes. “We’ll not be waiting
’til dawn.”
***
Kieran lay on his back staring
up at the black sky. A few stars shone bravely through the clouds, but they
blurred before his eyes. It seemed he’d lain here an eternity, listening to the
prayers and curses of his wounded men. Each plea for death tore through his
heart as one by one they fell silent. Now there was none left but him.
A jagged rock gouged his back
but as the feeling left his limbs, he scarce felt its bite. Still, he fought
the darkness. Once he succumbed, ’twould be no turning back. Some paths led in
but one direction, and this one he’d veered from many a time.
Not this time.
Through heavy eyes he
watched as a fine mist crept along the ground. The scent of woodland flowers
reached him through the stench of blood and death, and on the early spring
breeze he heard quiet sobs. He imagined ’twas Ireland weeping for the loss of
so many of her fine sons.
Stone fences, rolling fields,
homes and families. Pride and honor. For those things, they’d fought and died. Again,
he admired the dauntless courage of his men, prayed their souls would find
quick passage through the gates of heaven.
Then he saw her. A slender
shadow floated amongst the dead, knelt by each one. She bent to tenderly kiss
each brow, then moved on to the next. ’Twas no place for such a delicate lass. Kieran
tried to warn her away, but he couldn’t summon breath enough to speak.
She glanced about as if she’d
heard his thought. Her dainty feet made not a sound as she hastened through the
carnage to where he lay and fell to her knees at his side.
Tears shimmered on her cheeks as
she lifted his head and pillowed it in her skirts. “This was madness. What in
the name of Brigid were you thinking?”
It took all his strength to lift
the corner of his mouth. Though he’d never laid eyes on her, he wished for only
one thing--to die with her kiss on his lips.
And she granted it.
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