The crack and clatter leapt out over the sea. The boar lunged past, committed to sound and motion, and for one immense second it hung where earth ended. Then it was gone, swallowed by wind and distance below. A gasp rose from the crowd like a prayer uttered by people who had forgotten prayer existed.
No one cheered. The silence that followed was too large for that, and too dangerous. The chieftain’s face emptied of pleasure, though not of menace, and the sight of that change passed through the gathered people with a force all its own. They understood at once that the girl’s escape, if escape it proved to be, would not soften him. It would sharpen him.
Yet something irreversible had happened on that cliff path. His ritual had faltered. A creature he had set forth as an emblem of his will had been turned by one hunted life into evidence of limit. Even tyranny, the people saw, could be made for a moment to misstep.
Whether the limping man lived to see another dusk, no one in the hollow could tell. The dogs had driven him beyond a fold of ground, and the guards were already moving to retrieve what the morning had left them.
The girl remained hidden among the cliff stones until mist and distance disguised her from those above. Some said later that fishermen found her at evening and carried her north. Others said she slipped into the hills and was sheltered from cabin to cabin by those who had stood helpless that day.
In time the truth mattered less than the telling. What endured was the memory of rough land, gray sea, and a cruel chieftain brought, however briefly, against the hard edge of a world he did not wholly command.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sean Laughlin was the spitting image of his father and grandfather. He was big and wide with fiery red hair and a face full of boyish freckles. If you didn’t know he was lethal, you’d guess he was a happy-go-lucky kid selling magazine subscriptions.
“Would ‘ya look at the lot of you?” laughed Conor. “None of ‘ya look a day over forty and that’s a lie for sure.”
“Hello, Conor,” smiled Joseph.
“Ah, the big silent son of the big silent one,” he smirked. Joseph could only laugh as Julia hugged the older man.
“Nice to see you, Conor,” she said pulling back. She reached for Sean and hugged him as well. “Good to see you too, Sean.”
“I have to agree with me Da, you’re all lookin’ too pretty for your age,” he said hugging Julia.
“Och, come on now,” said Conor. “We’ve got your rooms ready and a lot to cover. We’ve been doin’ some diggin’ on our own as well.”
“We appreciate that,” said Marc following the two men.
The walk from the private runway to the castle was easily a mile and a half. To the Irish father and son, that was simply a nice little walk. Good thing they were all in great shape.
Settled into their rooms and ready for a hot meal, they met downstairs, reminiscing with old friends.
“Your parents are still alive?” frowned Conor shaking his head. “I’d ask how this is possible but I suspect Mama Irene is at the helm.”
“She is definitely still at the helm,” smirked Joseph. “We don’t mean to rush you, Conor, Sean, but what do you know about the area where these people have disappeared?”
“Most people believe the entire area is cursed,” said Conor.
“Eat,” smiled Sean, “this will take a while.”
“The chieftains and lords of the different families in Ireland fought nearly as bloody as those in Scotland. In the western part of Ireland, it was much like your western states early on. It was lawless and chieftains were allowed to rule their people as they saw fit.
“Most were good to their people. But some were horrors. One of those was in the very area where your lass disappeared. Kilkee. There was a chieftain, a brutal horrible bastard that enjoyed the kinds of games you might see in Roman coliseums. He loved to watch them fight for their lives and if they lived, they weren’t rewarded, they were tortured more.”
“But why?” asked Julia. “I mean, if they worked his land, protected his land, why be so cruel to them?”
“No one knows for sure but the rumor was that he was looking for one particular person. Just one. He had no idea if it was a male or female but they would reveal their value to him in all these tasks he put them through.”
“Like what kind of tasks?” asked Rory. Conor looked at him with a sly grin, shaking his head.
“You’re bigger than you ever were. I’m verra disappointed I didn’t fight you when I was a younger man.” Rory could only chuckle, shaking his head. “He would gather several people, sometimes dozens, and they would be chased by wild boars, even wolves. Back then there were still wolves in Ireland. He would starve the animals to the point of madness and then release them on the prisoners.
“Most would leap off the cliffs into the sea, seeing that as a more favorable death than being gored to death by a boar. If you hid in a tree or a cave, it was seen as cowardice and you were given a death worse than the one planned for you. If you were a woman, and you survived, you were often given to his soldiers and guards if he deemed you weren’t ‘the one’.”
“God almighty,” said Liffey.
“Indeed,” nodded Sean. “What no one could understand was if he was looking for someone who had some sort of magical power, or answer to a prayer for him, why kill them all? What were they supposed to show him that would allow them to live?”
