With that, O’Shan was dismissed and before he could even turn around, the priest was gone, tent and all. He wondered if it were a dream but shook his head as he shuffled along the muddy, half-snow-covered road. When he reached his men, he nodded as they headed on the long trip back to their own keep.
For three days he said nothing to anyone. He slept in his warm bed by the warm fire and ate the warm meals provided by the cook. On the fourth day, he gave his orders.
“Capture as many wild boars as you can and pen them in. Do not feed them. Do not give them anything. Then bring twenty men and women between the ages of sixteen and sixty. Their hair must be light, nearly white if possible, their eyes light as well.”
“Sir?” asked the guard.
“Do not ask me why. You are to serve me and serve me well. Bring them here within the week. I will know what to do from there.”
It’s odd how a man’s heart can turn from good to rotten in a matter of weeks. The longer he went without the perfect candidate, the more angry and violent he became. The priesthad assured him there was one out there for him. It could not be this difficult to find.
In the fourth year, he stared down at the body of the young boy, his nearly white, blonde hair glistening in the sun. His eyes were still wide open, their blue almost an unnatural blue. He’d been drained of his blood, given to O’Shan, but he felt no different. He was still weak.
“He wasn’t the one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Arriving at the private runway for the Castle Laughlin, they were greeted by Conor and Sean, as well as the rest of the team. Gabi was thrilled to see a new face, Rose clinging to Conor’s hand.
“I thank you for comin’,” said Conor. “We’re going to ensure she’s safe.”
“Can you do that, Conor?” asked Zulu with a fierce expression. “I’m not sure anyone can. This isn’t a tango we’re dealing with.”
“No, ‘yer right. Tis not. But it is an Irishman. Dead or no, I know how to deal with those and so do your lads. They’ve figured this out. Just listen to them.”
While the men went to the main living area and spoke, Rose and Julia showed Gabi what they’d discovered in the library and priest’s hole.
“Joseph tried to get him to see that he was duped but he kept telling him he was wrong. But the good news is, he didlisten to him without harming him. We’re not sure why but we think it has something to do with his skin color,” said Rory.
“Well, that’s great,” said Zulu. “We have a racist fucking ghost and I’m about as black as a man can be!”
“Zulu, calm down,” said Fitz. “It’s going to be okay. You have my word and I’m the first man you can kill if she gets harmed, brother. We won’t let it happen, you know us.”
“I know,” he said rubbing his bald head. “I know. But y’all know Gabi. Sometimes she lets her mouth override her brain and says shit she shouldn’t say. She’s liable to piss off this ghost big time.”
“She seemed pretty tame on the flight, Dad,” said Tiger. “Mom has toned down a bit over the years. Give her more credit.”
“Matthew and Irene both tell us that the priest, or actor or whatever the fuck he was, is dead and long gone. There is no spirit, he is not haunting anyone and he’s gone. So, we don’t have to worry about interference from him. We weren’t bothered by any potential ghostly guards while there, and that makes us believe it’s just O’Shan,” said Liffey.
“I’ll be there to speak the Gaelic with him,” said Conor.
“Conor, I can’t ask you to do that brother. Besides, he spoke clearly with Joseph,” said Zulu.
“He did but it might help for him to hear from one of his own. Besides, my ancestors knew him and knew him to be a good, normal landowner prior to the visit by the Hungarian.”
Zulu nodded, standing to pace the length of the room. He walked toward the fireplace, burning intensely in the summer night. It always amazed him how it could be beautiful outside during the day in the summertime. But in the evenings anywhere in northern Europe it could often be downright brisk.
He turned and paced back to the table, then turned and went back to the fire. Turning one last time, he stopped cold with a figure standing in front of him. It was Maggie.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry,” said Zulu. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I’m always here, lad. Just ask Conor and Sean. I’m Aunt Maggie.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said with a half-smile.
“Listen to me sweet boy,” she said touching the skin of his upper arms. She smiled, feeling his big muscles and shook her head, laughing. Zulu even gave a grin to the ghost. “You are a big lad, aren’t you? Listen to me. O’Shan was mad in his day but he’s been haunting those hills nigh on three-hundred years now. He’s tired and he only wants rest. Your woman just needs to convince him of that.”
“Gabi is good at convincing me of a lot of things, Maggie,” he said with a sad expression, “but I’ve never seen her with a ghost.”
