The Changeling - An Ulster Legend
- Thread starter Fiftypence
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Excellent update. I dont know a lot about Irish mythology, so this will be educational as well.
I thought I knew something, but not enough to completely understand what happened there.
Intriguing...
Intriguing...
Interesting premise, looking forward to see how the story progresses, I'm intrigued.
canadiancreed: Thanks. It was reading your AAR that reminded me of the idea for this AAR.
Estonianzulu: Well I don't know that much, but I know a bit. And also, sorry for missing your previous comment, you posted just as I was updating.
RGB: That's kind of what I was going for, so good.
Judas Maccabeus: Spooky indeed.
JimboIX: Thanks for reading.
Estonianzulu: Well I don't know that much, but I know a bit. And also, sorry for missing your previous comment, you posted just as I was updating.
RGB: That's kind of what I was going for, so good.
Judas Maccabeus: Spooky indeed.
JimboIX: Thanks for reading.
Part Two
There was a ruin of some sort, with a circle of white stone pillars forming an ancient, enclosed space, surrounded by humongous, lush trees. Enri stepped forward, almost floating, feeling strangely at ease in this place, and could make the shapes of two individuals dressed like wildmen standing several yards away from him, looking in. Their faces were obscured, but they were looking into the circle, filled with great worry and anxiety, completely ignoring him. He tried to see what they were looking at, but within the stone circle there was only a swirling mist, like a multicoloured tornado, and Enri could sense a great seething mass of anger and sorrow. He tried to step forward, but suddenly before him was the great stag, only now it was grinning.
“Come, we must eat,” it said, in the voice of Haíllíui. Enri nodded, and followed, finding himself in the great hall of his fort, Dún Phádraig, where there was a great feast, and the wafting smell of roast venison made his stomach rumble. He sat down, not recognising any of the other people at the table, but upon looking at his food found it to be foul and rotten, crawling with maggots. He looked behind him, and-
-woke up, in confusion. He blinked, and rolled over to see Haíllíui standing over a fire, roasting a spit, with her back to him. He stood up, but she did not notice, all her attention on the food she was preparing. Enri noticed that the carcass of the stag lay open and bloody, and everything fell into place. A dream, a particularly silly dream, he thought, as he stomped over to the fire. Haíllíui finally noticed him, and raised her eyebrows.
“Ah good, you’ve finally woken up,” she said brightly.
“What happened? How long did I sleep?”
“Several hours. You had a bathe in the stream, then out like a light!”
“Oh. You’re going to eat the stag…?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s been too long since I last ate.” A moment later she said, “You can have some too, if you like? It‘s nearly done.”
Enri did not respond. It was growing dark, and he had been out far longer than he had intended. He thought of Imag and Duinechad, and realised that he had not thought of his missing child at all since entering the forest.
“No, I must get back. There is urgent business that needs my attention.”
He turned to leave, but to his surprise she tugged on his arm, her face suddenly filled with apprehension.
“Enri, your stomach was growling very loudly while you slept, you must be hungry. What business could be so in need of your attention that you could not stop and have something to eat?”
“I…” He stopped, remembering that his mother had said that Imag had left to stay with her father in Munster. “Well, all right,” he sighed. He was hungry, and took a strip of meat and gulped it down ravenously. As they ate, Haíllíui spoke quietly,
“So what is it exactly that avails you?”
“What?”
“Something troubles you. I saw it as soon as I saw you. You can tell me.”
Enri considered telling her to mind her own business. She was, after all, a total stranger. But after a couple of seconds of thought he realised that there was nothing to lose by telling her, and so did.
“My child Duinechad has been taken, heir to my realm and an heir of Muirdetach O’Brien of Munster, who currently holds the High Kingship of Ireland. The worst thing is that his disappearance is, in spite of all reason, simply impossible. I‘ve ordered my Spy Mistress to send out agents to try and find him, but I do not hold out much hope. I fear in my heart that he is gone forever, and it pains me greatly.”
Haíllíui chewed on her food thoughtfully and silently. “This must be a great burden for you,” she said sympathetically.
“Believe me, it is, a most terrible burden. I came out into the forest to try and clear my mind, but for the life of me I cannot think of any explanation. And then I found you, who has only served to heap mystery upon mystery. You know, I still want to know what you did to that stag.”
She smiled slightly to herself. She finished off the meat in her hand, and then spoke quietly and carefully, “I think I know who has taken your child.”
Enri’s eyes shot up. “What?!”
“I can guess, at least. They fear Duinechad’s power just as they feared mine, and long to control it. I know better than anyone, this is just the kind of thing they would do.” She continued, almost seeming to be speaking to herself, murmuring, “They are driven by jealousy, bitterness, greed, resentment, desirous of an end to their exile. Only they could have done this…”
“Who are they?!” said Enri, throwing his hands up with ever growing exasperation. Haíllíui’s eyes twinkled, deep and dark.
“Why, the Sidhe of course.”
There was a ruin of some sort, with a circle of white stone pillars forming an ancient, enclosed space, surrounded by humongous, lush trees. Enri stepped forward, almost floating, feeling strangely at ease in this place, and could make the shapes of two individuals dressed like wildmen standing several yards away from him, looking in. Their faces were obscured, but they were looking into the circle, filled with great worry and anxiety, completely ignoring him. He tried to see what they were looking at, but within the stone circle there was only a swirling mist, like a multicoloured tornado, and Enri could sense a great seething mass of anger and sorrow. He tried to step forward, but suddenly before him was the great stag, only now it was grinning.
“Come, we must eat,” it said, in the voice of Haíllíui. Enri nodded, and followed, finding himself in the great hall of his fort, Dún Phádraig, where there was a great feast, and the wafting smell of roast venison made his stomach rumble. He sat down, not recognising any of the other people at the table, but upon looking at his food found it to be foul and rotten, crawling with maggots. He looked behind him, and-
-woke up, in confusion. He blinked, and rolled over to see Haíllíui standing over a fire, roasting a spit, with her back to him. He stood up, but she did not notice, all her attention on the food she was preparing. Enri noticed that the carcass of the stag lay open and bloody, and everything fell into place. A dream, a particularly silly dream, he thought, as he stomped over to the fire. Haíllíui finally noticed him, and raised her eyebrows.
“Ah good, you’ve finally woken up,” she said brightly.
“What happened? How long did I sleep?”
“Several hours. You had a bathe in the stream, then out like a light!”
“Oh. You’re going to eat the stag…?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s been too long since I last ate.” A moment later she said, “You can have some too, if you like? It‘s nearly done.”
Enri did not respond. It was growing dark, and he had been out far longer than he had intended. He thought of Imag and Duinechad, and realised that he had not thought of his missing child at all since entering the forest.
“No, I must get back. There is urgent business that needs my attention.”
He turned to leave, but to his surprise she tugged on his arm, her face suddenly filled with apprehension.
“Enri, your stomach was growling very loudly while you slept, you must be hungry. What business could be so in need of your attention that you could not stop and have something to eat?”
“I…” He stopped, remembering that his mother had said that Imag had left to stay with her father in Munster. “Well, all right,” he sighed. He was hungry, and took a strip of meat and gulped it down ravenously. As they ate, Haíllíui spoke quietly,
“So what is it exactly that avails you?”
“What?”
“Something troubles you. I saw it as soon as I saw you. You can tell me.”
Enri considered telling her to mind her own business. She was, after all, a total stranger. But after a couple of seconds of thought he realised that there was nothing to lose by telling her, and so did.
“My child Duinechad has been taken, heir to my realm and an heir of Muirdetach O’Brien of Munster, who currently holds the High Kingship of Ireland. The worst thing is that his disappearance is, in spite of all reason, simply impossible. I‘ve ordered my Spy Mistress to send out agents to try and find him, but I do not hold out much hope. I fear in my heart that he is gone forever, and it pains me greatly.”
Haíllíui chewed on her food thoughtfully and silently. “This must be a great burden for you,” she said sympathetically.
“Believe me, it is, a most terrible burden. I came out into the forest to try and clear my mind, but for the life of me I cannot think of any explanation. And then I found you, who has only served to heap mystery upon mystery. You know, I still want to know what you did to that stag.”
She smiled slightly to herself. She finished off the meat in her hand, and then spoke quietly and carefully, “I think I know who has taken your child.”
Enri’s eyes shot up. “What?!”
“I can guess, at least. They fear Duinechad’s power just as they feared mine, and long to control it. I know better than anyone, this is just the kind of thing they would do.” She continued, almost seeming to be speaking to herself, murmuring, “They are driven by jealousy, bitterness, greed, resentment, desirous of an end to their exile. Only they could have done this…”
“Who are they?!” said Enri, throwing his hands up with ever growing exasperation. Haíllíui’s eyes twinkled, deep and dark.
“Why, the Sidhe of course.”
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I inspire! Awesome!
Although I'd have to say that your definition of it is much greater then mine. MIne is half stratching the surface, the other is total fiction.
Of course it's the Sidhe. Being the only ones to have authority over all Ireland for quite some time means they'd be quite unhappy with the idea of a potential High King with real power.
Just a theory, of course, I'm waiting with varying patience to see what the real story is...
Just a theory, of course, I'm waiting with varying patience to see what the real story is...
Just hoping he doesn't end up travelling to Beyond-Sea and come back circa 1409. You know how these stories go.
canadiancreed: Indeed. I've had the core idea for this for quite a while, but it was reading your AAR that made me think about fleshing it out and developing it properly.
Estonianzulu: Oh, we will.
Judas Maccabeus: You're not too far off.
JimboIX: Thanks.
RGB: No, nothing like that. I'm pretty sure this story will end the same year it started, 1088.
Estonianzulu: Oh, we will.
Judas Maccabeus: You're not too far off.
JimboIX: Thanks.
RGB: No, nothing like that. I'm pretty sure this story will end the same year it started, 1088.
Part Three
There was not a star to be seen in the sky, a thick blanket of cloud obscuring even the brightest light in the dark, grim sky. Enri sat by the banks of the stream, wrapping his furs tightly around himself, staring at the gently lapping water, illuminated by the fire that flickered and spluttered behind him, casting a long shadow. Beside him, Haíllíui lay asleep but not at peace, constantly twitching like a rabbit ready to bolt at the first indication of any kind of danger.
He wanted, in his heart, to be at his fort, in his warm and comfortable bed, but since it had grown dark he knew he would never be able to find his way back, and so had decided to wait until the break of day. Enri was not tired, but knew that his sleep would be disturbed by strange and unsettling dreams, so he stayed awake, with all kinds of thoughts swirling around in his mind.
My son. The Sidhe. All of Enri’s senses told him that it was an absurd idea, that it was stupid, ridiculous, impossible. But then, he thought, Duinechad’s disappearance was also impossible, so who knows what the truth is? Haíllíui had been very reticent, and acted as if by even mentioning the Sidhe she had said too much, as if she had indulged herself and felt guilty afterwards. She had refused to tell Enri any more, ignoring his incredulous reaction and dodging all of his questions telling him she would explain when dawn came, all the while still smiling that strange thin little smile that Enri had grown to know.
And now he was, to all intents and purposes, left alone with his thoughts. Despite his doubts and scepticism, there was something about Haíllíui that seemed very genuine, something honest and vulnerable that he caught in an occasional look in her eyes, that made him willing to at least consider the idea, no matter how ludicrous, that the fey really had stolen his child. But then he thought again, and laughed at how stupid it seemed. No, I will go home, and see if Aelflaed's spies bring any news, he thought, glancing down at the tense form of Haíllíui, with her hair wild and her eyes fastened shut.
***
Daylight seemed to take an eternity to come, and even when it did Haíllíui continued to lay sleeping, much to Enri’s frustration. He prodded her gently, and she awoke with a startled yelp, instinctively adopting a defensive pose.
“Hey get off you…oh, it’s you,” she said, wiping her eyes and sitting up.
“Yes it’s me,” Enri said, doing a poor job of concealing his impatience. “Bad dreams?“
She nodded and stretched. “Yes, somewhat.”
“It’s this place,” Enri muttered as Haíllíui got up and went over to the stream and washed her face.
“So what are your plans,” she said, with her back turned.
“I intend to go home,” he said.
There was a splash as she turned and faced him, her eyes wide. “What?!”
Enri sighed. “Look, I want to go back to my fort. They will be worried about my whereabouts, and there might also be some news of Duinechad.”
“But, but, the Fair Folk…” she said, her voice floundering. “I can help you…”
“Oh come now,” he said haughtily, “All this talk of fairies is, frankly, nonsense. I’m sorry, but I really do not have time for it.”
She stared at him incredulous and angry. “You think I was lying?” she said, almost in a whisper.
“No, I think you are suffering from delusions. I don’t know what it is about these woods, but they do strange things to the mind. And you know what? I don’t even know who you are or why you’re here, let alone why I should trust you! I mean no disrespect, but you must see what I mean…”
She nodded sullenly, resisting all the urges that flowed through her. Instead she said, with unsettling quietness. “Of course, you must do as you see fit. You choose to leave your child with those who torture for fun and bewitch men with a laugh and a dance, who left me with scars that will never heal in a thousand years…”
Enri turned, uncertain, and frowned. “Scars? What scars?”
“If you would care to stay, I will tell you everything.”
Enri was torn with indecision, but the sadness and pain in Haíllíui’s eyes eventually resolved him to stay, despite his better judgement.
“All right then. Tell me.”
She sat down next to the dying embers of the fire, and Enri joined her. She spoke almost as if in a trance.
“I was once powerful, but not in a way you’d know. Your power is earthly, but mine…I had the whole world in my hands. I and my companions commanded the respect of all, from the most powerful Lord to the tiniest insect, and we were loved. But not by all. Some in Eire grew jealous, and desired to destroy me, or do the next best thing…imprison my soul forever.”
“The Sidhe?”
Haíllíui nodded. “Yes, them. I do not remember how they were able to win, but they did, and for what seemed like an eternity they bound me in their realm, torturing and tormenting me, separating my body from my mind…you cannot know how that feels. My mind will never heal.”
“So what happened?”
She laughed, and shook her head. “Over time the fools forgot why they held us, their burden, and let their guard down. I took my chance and escaped, and found myself here. They are no doubt looking for me, in fact I know so because…”
“Because what?”
“That stag, it was a spy, enchanted and possessed by the fey. I could tell immediately.”
Enri tried to take it all in. “So my son…they will torture him too?”
Haíllíui smiled evilly. “Oh no, I think they have something else in mind for him.” She stared at him, piercing him with her cat eyes. “So do you believe me? Or am I deluded?”
“I…well yes, I believe you. So what should we do?”
“We must go to the realm of the Fair Folk, the Otherworld, and rescue your son.”
Enri nodded. “So what do you get out of all this,” he said, with mild suspicion.
Her eyes flared with pure hatred. “Vengeance.”
There was not a star to be seen in the sky, a thick blanket of cloud obscuring even the brightest light in the dark, grim sky. Enri sat by the banks of the stream, wrapping his furs tightly around himself, staring at the gently lapping water, illuminated by the fire that flickered and spluttered behind him, casting a long shadow. Beside him, Haíllíui lay asleep but not at peace, constantly twitching like a rabbit ready to bolt at the first indication of any kind of danger.
He wanted, in his heart, to be at his fort, in his warm and comfortable bed, but since it had grown dark he knew he would never be able to find his way back, and so had decided to wait until the break of day. Enri was not tired, but knew that his sleep would be disturbed by strange and unsettling dreams, so he stayed awake, with all kinds of thoughts swirling around in his mind.
My son. The Sidhe. All of Enri’s senses told him that it was an absurd idea, that it was stupid, ridiculous, impossible. But then, he thought, Duinechad’s disappearance was also impossible, so who knows what the truth is? Haíllíui had been very reticent, and acted as if by even mentioning the Sidhe she had said too much, as if she had indulged herself and felt guilty afterwards. She had refused to tell Enri any more, ignoring his incredulous reaction and dodging all of his questions telling him she would explain when dawn came, all the while still smiling that strange thin little smile that Enri had grown to know.
And now he was, to all intents and purposes, left alone with his thoughts. Despite his doubts and scepticism, there was something about Haíllíui that seemed very genuine, something honest and vulnerable that he caught in an occasional look in her eyes, that made him willing to at least consider the idea, no matter how ludicrous, that the fey really had stolen his child. But then he thought again, and laughed at how stupid it seemed. No, I will go home, and see if Aelflaed's spies bring any news, he thought, glancing down at the tense form of Haíllíui, with her hair wild and her eyes fastened shut.
***
Daylight seemed to take an eternity to come, and even when it did Haíllíui continued to lay sleeping, much to Enri’s frustration. He prodded her gently, and she awoke with a startled yelp, instinctively adopting a defensive pose.
“Hey get off you…oh, it’s you,” she said, wiping her eyes and sitting up.
“Yes it’s me,” Enri said, doing a poor job of concealing his impatience. “Bad dreams?“
She nodded and stretched. “Yes, somewhat.”
“It’s this place,” Enri muttered as Haíllíui got up and went over to the stream and washed her face.
“So what are your plans,” she said, with her back turned.
“I intend to go home,” he said.
There was a splash as she turned and faced him, her eyes wide. “What?!”
Enri sighed. “Look, I want to go back to my fort. They will be worried about my whereabouts, and there might also be some news of Duinechad.”
“But, but, the Fair Folk…” she said, her voice floundering. “I can help you…”
“Oh come now,” he said haughtily, “All this talk of fairies is, frankly, nonsense. I’m sorry, but I really do not have time for it.”
She stared at him incredulous and angry. “You think I was lying?” she said, almost in a whisper.
“No, I think you are suffering from delusions. I don’t know what it is about these woods, but they do strange things to the mind. And you know what? I don’t even know who you are or why you’re here, let alone why I should trust you! I mean no disrespect, but you must see what I mean…”
She nodded sullenly, resisting all the urges that flowed through her. Instead she said, with unsettling quietness. “Of course, you must do as you see fit. You choose to leave your child with those who torture for fun and bewitch men with a laugh and a dance, who left me with scars that will never heal in a thousand years…”
Enri turned, uncertain, and frowned. “Scars? What scars?”
“If you would care to stay, I will tell you everything.”
Enri was torn with indecision, but the sadness and pain in Haíllíui’s eyes eventually resolved him to stay, despite his better judgement.
“All right then. Tell me.”
She sat down next to the dying embers of the fire, and Enri joined her. She spoke almost as if in a trance.
“I was once powerful, but not in a way you’d know. Your power is earthly, but mine…I had the whole world in my hands. I and my companions commanded the respect of all, from the most powerful Lord to the tiniest insect, and we were loved. But not by all. Some in Eire grew jealous, and desired to destroy me, or do the next best thing…imprison my soul forever.”
“The Sidhe?”
Haíllíui nodded. “Yes, them. I do not remember how they were able to win, but they did, and for what seemed like an eternity they bound me in their realm, torturing and tormenting me, separating my body from my mind…you cannot know how that feels. My mind will never heal.”
“So what happened?”
She laughed, and shook her head. “Over time the fools forgot why they held us, their burden, and let their guard down. I took my chance and escaped, and found myself here. They are no doubt looking for me, in fact I know so because…”
“Because what?”
“That stag, it was a spy, enchanted and possessed by the fey. I could tell immediately.”
Enri tried to take it all in. “So my son…they will torture him too?”
Haíllíui smiled evilly. “Oh no, I think they have something else in mind for him.” She stared at him, piercing him with her cat eyes. “So do you believe me? Or am I deluded?”
“I…well yes, I believe you. So what should we do?”
“We must go to the realm of the Fair Folk, the Otherworld, and rescue your son.”
Enri nodded. “So what do you get out of all this,” he said, with mild suspicion.
Her eyes flared with pure hatred. “Vengeance.”
Enri is about to venture way out of his element indeed. I'm looking forward to seeing how he handles it.
Hi everyone, I'm currently working on an update, so stay tuned. Just letting you know I haven't forgotten about this.
canadiancreed: I certainly hope so.
JimboIX: He is indeed. As long as he has Haíllíui with him he'll be fine...right?
RGB: Nope. Unseelie refers to those fey who shun human contact, so if she were anything she would be seelie. Which she's not. In fact, she's not one of the Sidhe at all.
canadiancreed: I certainly hope so.
JimboIX: He is indeed. As long as he has Haíllíui with him he'll be fine...right?
RGB: Nope.
Unseelie refers to those fey who shun human contact, so if she were anything she would be seelie. Which she's not. In fact, she's not one of the Sidhe at all.
Part Four
Confusion once again reigned at the hill fort of Dún Phádraig, but it much more subdued. Servants went about their business as normal, but amongst the courtiers there was an immense sense of disquiet. From some unknown source sprung forth a rumour that Lord Enri had also been kidnapped along with his son, and to everybody’s frustration there was no way of refuting this. He had not been back for some time, that’s all anybody knew.
All this weighed on Chancellor Affraic’s mind as she walked purposely down the echoing corridor and entered the solar, where she found Jimena sitting alone, all her attention given to the tapestry she was working on. Affraic coughed politely to get her attention.
“Wha…oh, it’s you. Has he returned?”
Affraic could see the lines of worry in the elder woman’s face, the anxious hope. “Alas not,” she said. “May I sit with you?”
Jimena did not respond, which Affraic took as a yes. As she sat she swept back her dark brown hair, and watched Jimena, who seemed to be lost in a sea of angst.
“My lady, I must tell you something.”
Jimena glanced up. “Oh yes?” she said, her tone betraying her lack of interest.
“When little Duinechad first disappeared, Enri vowed he would go out and rescue the child himself, and wouldn’t listen to reason. I thought we had been able to convince him that this was folly, but I guess not…”
Jimena’s face showed no surprise, and she just nodded sadly. “Yes my dear, that sound’s like my Enri.”
But why? I understand his distress, of course, but he seemed not to be thinking straight. And he’s normally so thoughtful and calm.”
Jimena, despite her mood, let out a little laugh. “Oh my girl, you don’t know what it is like to be a parent.”
Affraic wondered if that was an intentional dig, for it was common knowledge that she and Corcc had been trying for a child for a while now, but there was no malice in the older lady’s face so she let it pass.
“But the thing about Enri…” Jimena continued, “You must understand, he sees little Duinechad as a second chance, a chance to right the wrongs of the past…”
Affraic’s brow arched. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
Jimena looked confused for a moment, then nodded. “Ah, it was before you came that Cilline departed from this world. You see, Enri always took it upon himself to act as his brother’s guardian, from the moment he sprang forth from my womb. They would go everywhere together, and Enri would always protect Cilline from harm. Such dear children…”
Affraic leant forward. “So…?”
“Well, I guess you’ve since heard what fate befell my poor darling Cilline, murdered in his bed by some lowlife. What kind of sick, twisted monster would do that to a child?”
Affraic was aware that Cu Uladh, Jimena’s late husband, had himself personally ordered the murder of one of Lord Muirdetach’s young sons, but respectfully kept silent.
“Enri blamed himself; he believed he had failed Cilline by failing to stop the assassin, and has carried the guilt ever since. For he knew, deep in his heart, that the assassin had made a mistake. That dagger, it was not meant for Cilline. It was meant for Enri.”
The younger woman sat back, trying to take it all in. It was well known that Lord Muirdetach of Munster had been behind the murder of Cilline, and that the marriage of Enri to Imag O’Brien was attempt to heal relations between the two feuding families. The level of resentment that still existed on both sides indicated that it would need more than a political marriage to heal the rift and ill-feeling. It would need a miracle.
Affraic found Marshal Sechnassach outside, practising his sword technique on a straw dummy. Slice, parry, thrust. The poor dummy did not stand a chance.
Upon seeing the Chancellor he continued the pummeling, wiping his brow with his arm.
“Marshal, I have spoken to Jimena. She’s in quite a state. So mournful and pale, the poor woman.”
“Mmm hmm,” he said vaguely. Affraic glowered at him.
“Are you even listening to me?!”
He glanced up. “Oh sorry.” He put down the sword, his sly smile radiating Irish charm. “You have my full attention.”
“Good. I think we should send out a search party to look for Lord Enri. It seems he’s gone off looking for his son without a second thought for his realm. He said he was going to the woods, so we should look there first.”
“Ah, but don’t you think he may have said that to put you off his scent?” Sechnassach said, eyebrow cocked. She rolled her eyes.
“Maybe. But maybe not.”
He shrugged. “Well, alright. I’ll go get Donnchad, you stay here.”
Affraic had wanted to come with them, but she knew someone was needed back at the fort to keep things ticking over. She called out as he walked to the fort, “Fine, but…be careful.”
Sechnassach turned, and laughed. “Don’t worry sweetheart, there’s nothing in the woods that can harm us.”
With that he left, and Affraic followed him a couple of moments later.
Confusion once again reigned at the hill fort of Dún Phádraig, but it much more subdued. Servants went about their business as normal, but amongst the courtiers there was an immense sense of disquiet. From some unknown source sprung forth a rumour that Lord Enri had also been kidnapped along with his son, and to everybody’s frustration there was no way of refuting this. He had not been back for some time, that’s all anybody knew.
All this weighed on Chancellor Affraic’s mind as she walked purposely down the echoing corridor and entered the solar, where she found Jimena sitting alone, all her attention given to the tapestry she was working on. Affraic coughed politely to get her attention.
“Wha…oh, it’s you. Has he returned?”
Affraic could see the lines of worry in the elder woman’s face, the anxious hope. “Alas not,” she said. “May I sit with you?”
Jimena did not respond, which Affraic took as a yes. As she sat she swept back her dark brown hair, and watched Jimena, who seemed to be lost in a sea of angst.
“My lady, I must tell you something.”
Jimena glanced up. “Oh yes?” she said, her tone betraying her lack of interest.
“When little Duinechad first disappeared, Enri vowed he would go out and rescue the child himself, and wouldn’t listen to reason. I thought we had been able to convince him that this was folly, but I guess not…”
Jimena’s face showed no surprise, and she just nodded sadly. “Yes my dear, that sound’s like my Enri.”
But why? I understand his distress, of course, but he seemed not to be thinking straight. And he’s normally so thoughtful and calm.”
Jimena, despite her mood, let out a little laugh. “Oh my girl, you don’t know what it is like to be a parent.”
Affraic wondered if that was an intentional dig, for it was common knowledge that she and Corcc had been trying for a child for a while now, but there was no malice in the older lady’s face so she let it pass.
“But the thing about Enri…” Jimena continued, “You must understand, he sees little Duinechad as a second chance, a chance to right the wrongs of the past…”
Affraic’s brow arched. “I’m not sure I understand you.”
Jimena looked confused for a moment, then nodded. “Ah, it was before you came that Cilline departed from this world. You see, Enri always took it upon himself to act as his brother’s guardian, from the moment he sprang forth from my womb. They would go everywhere together, and Enri would always protect Cilline from harm. Such dear children…”
Affraic leant forward. “So…?”
“Well, I guess you’ve since heard what fate befell my poor darling Cilline, murdered in his bed by some lowlife. What kind of sick, twisted monster would do that to a child?”
Affraic was aware that Cu Uladh, Jimena’s late husband, had himself personally ordered the murder of one of Lord Muirdetach’s young sons, but respectfully kept silent.
“Enri blamed himself; he believed he had failed Cilline by failing to stop the assassin, and has carried the guilt ever since. For he knew, deep in his heart, that the assassin had made a mistake. That dagger, it was not meant for Cilline. It was meant for Enri.”
The younger woman sat back, trying to take it all in. It was well known that Lord Muirdetach of Munster had been behind the murder of Cilline, and that the marriage of Enri to Imag O’Brien was attempt to heal relations between the two feuding families. The level of resentment that still existed on both sides indicated that it would need more than a political marriage to heal the rift and ill-feeling. It would need a miracle.
***
Affraic found Marshal Sechnassach outside, practising his sword technique on a straw dummy. Slice, parry, thrust. The poor dummy did not stand a chance.
Upon seeing the Chancellor he continued the pummeling, wiping his brow with his arm.
“Marshal, I have spoken to Jimena. She’s in quite a state. So mournful and pale, the poor woman.”
“Mmm hmm,” he said vaguely. Affraic glowered at him.
“Are you even listening to me?!”
He glanced up. “Oh sorry.” He put down the sword, his sly smile radiating Irish charm. “You have my full attention.”
“Good. I think we should send out a search party to look for Lord Enri. It seems he’s gone off looking for his son without a second thought for his realm. He said he was going to the woods, so we should look there first.”
“Ah, but don’t you think he may have said that to put you off his scent?” Sechnassach said, eyebrow cocked. She rolled her eyes.
“Maybe. But maybe not.”
He shrugged. “Well, alright. I’ll go get Donnchad, you stay here.”
Affraic had wanted to come with them, but she knew someone was needed back at the fort to keep things ticking over. She called out as he walked to the fort, “Fine, but…be careful.”
Sechnassach turned, and laughed. “Don’t worry sweetheart, there’s nothing in the woods that can harm us.”
With that he left, and Affraic followed him a couple of moments later.