Chapter Twenty-One #3
Wandering out of the tent, he found himself thinking heavily on Kieran, walking around the tent and looking at the smoldering ruins of Bailie Castle.
He could, of course, claim it as a spoil of victory, and he very well might, but tonight was more about vengeance than anything else.
He wondered if Gar were even still alive.
As he walked toward the castle beneath the dusk as it transformed into night, he thought on his grandson, who had been the beginning of a new life for the boy’s father.
William loved all of his grandsons equally, but there was something special about Gar.
Perhaps it was because he represented a new life for Troy after the horrific loss of Helene.
Gar had been a symbol of hope to the entire family, a light that brought them out of a very dark time.
He just couldn’t face the thought of losing him.
There was a small hill to the west of Bailie and that was where William found himself, gazing up at the stars.
They were so clear tonight that he swore he could have reached up and grabbed one.
He was going to miss nights like this at the end of a battle, when the surge of excitement in his veins had cooled and he would give thanks that he had survived yet another fight.
He was going to miss the camaraderie of the knights, of his sons, as they shared their stories and bonded over victory.
He was going to miss it all.
“He was wrong, you know.”
It was a faint voice upon the breeze. In fact, William wasn’t sure he’d even heard the words. Maybe he had imagined them. He looked around, knowing he was quite alone on the hill.
“Gar was wrong, William.”
Now, he was imagining things. He heard those words more clearly and his heart began to pound, just a little.
Maybe it had finally happened—he was finally losing his mind and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He thought that he should probably make his way back to his tent before he started foaming at the mouth and baying at the moon, but as he turned for the encampment, he caught sight of a shadow over in the trees to the south.
A shadow that was moving.
William wasn’t armed, but he wasn’t frightened. At least, not of an armed man. He was more frightened of losing his mind. As he stood there and watched, the shadow came closer until the moonbeams finally illuminated it.
Then, he could see it clearly.
A distinct shock rolled through him.
“God’s Bones,” he muttered. “It has happened. It had finally happened.”
“What has?”
“I’m mad. I am genuinely mad.”
“You are not mad, but you are seeing things.”
William didn’t say anything for a moment. He couldn’t because there was a lump in his throat.
“Kieran? Am I truly seeing you?”
Kieran Hage was fighting off a grin. He was the color of the moonbeams, cold and pale, all shades of black and gray and white, but he looked the way William knew him in his prime—the most powerful man in England. He was young and strong and handsome, not old and ill as he had been at the end.
This was the Kieran that William would always remember.
“You might be,” Kieran said. “Then again, you might not be. I may be a dream beneath the moonlight.”
“Not to offend you, but when I dream of someone beneath the moonlight, it is not you.”
Kieran grinned. “I am not offended,” he said. “But I did come to tell you something.”
“What?”
“That Gar was wrong when he told you that you were too old to be fighting,” Kieran said, his smile fading. “And he was not injured because of you. He was injured because of a Scotsman.”
William sighed faintly, still trying to figure out if this were some kind of fever dream, but he was quickly becoming overwhelmed with emotion.
“How do you know this?”
“Because I do,” Kieran said. “Will you truly question an apparition?”
“It is you, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
William blinked his eye and the tears rolled down his cheek. “My God,” he said hoarsely. “I have missed you so much.”
Kieran’s smile turned gentle. “And I have missed you,” he said. “You remember when I lay dying and you came to me? You told me that I was free to let go. You told me that you would ensure our grandsons remembered me. You gave me permission to leave.”
Tears continued to roll down William’s face. “I remember.”
“That was the kindest thing you have ever done for me,” Kieran said. “Those were words I needed to hear. And now, I’m going to give you words that you need to hear.”
“What words?”
Kieran took a step closer, his dark gaze intense.
“That you are the greatest knight England has ever seen,” he said seriously.
“I know you are thinking of hanging up your spurs. I know that Gar’s words were hurtful.
And I know that every time Scott or Troy try to tell you to stay out of a battle, it hurts you.
I am here to tell you that you should fight to the end, William.
They are only thinking of you, that is true, but they are doing it in a selfish way.
They do not want to see you injured or killed.
They do not want to lose you. But you were born for battle.
You were born for nights like this, when a clan chief needs to be taught a lesson that only you can teach him.
Your sons love you, but after all these years, they still do not understand you.
Do not let them make you anything less than what you are.
If you want to fight, then fight. But if you want to rest, then rest. You have earned the right to choose. Do not let others do it for you.”
William wiped at his face, but the tears kept falling. “That is wisdom I have missed desperately,” he muttered. “Paris tries to give me advice, and most of the time it is good advice, but it is not the same. Tell me something, Kieran.”
“Anything.”
“Am I dead right now? Is that why you are here and we can have a conversation?”
Kieran laughed softly. “You are not dead,” he said.
“You are merely sleeping. And this will be a dream you will not remember, at least not in detail. But the next time there is a battle, my words will come to you. I’m still with you, William.
I have been with you at every battle you’ve ever fought, right by your side, whether you could see me or not. ”
That reassurance brought more tears to William’s eye again. “I know,” he said. “I think I’ve always known. I felt you tonight and here you are.”
“I am always here, just out of your line of sight,” Kieran said. “But I cannot stay. I wish I could, but I cannot. I just wanted to speak to you, if only for a brief moment. You have had a difficult time as of late.”
“Difficult, indeed,” William agreed, thinking on Gar, possibly dying back at Gleann na Fola. “Kieran, what about Gar?”
“What about him?”
“Is he going to survive?”
“This, I cannot tell you, but there is every reason to hope.”
“Hope,” William muttered. “Sometimes that is hard to come by.”
“I know,” Kieran said. “But you must have faith. That is what hope is born from.”
William pondered that advice, drawing a tremendous amount of comfort from it. It was as if Kieran had never left, now standing here, carrying on a conversation. It took William back to years past when he had Kieran’s steadying influence around. As he had told the man, he’d missed it terribly.
Even after all these years.
“Thank you,” he finally said. “That means a great deal.”
“I am glad.”
“I could continue this conversation with you all night.”
Kieran’s expression was gentle. “As could I,” he said. “But there is something more I wish to say to you before it ends.”
“What is it?”
“Thank you for keeping every promise you made to me on my deathbed,” Kieran said softly. “You are a man of your word. A man of honor. A friendship like ours will continue in eternity because a bond like ours cannot be broken.”
“Agreed,” William whispered. “But what about Paris?”
Kieran’s features twisted into an annoyed expression. “Him, too, sadly enough,” he said. “The three of us are destined to go through eternity together, I fear.”
“You know that he married your widow.”
“I know.”
“And you are not troubled by it?”
Kieran shrugged. “I was her great love,” he said. “Paris is her great salvation. She was very lonely, William. I cannot be angry that he is taking care of her. Above all else, she must be happy.”
“Good,” William said. “I always wondered what you would think.”
“Now, you know.”
“I do.”
William realized that Kieran was starting to fade a little. The moonlight that illuminated him seemed to be undulating and changing, the brightness going out of it. That told William his time with Kieran had come to a close.
“Are you leaving now?” he asked.
Kieran nodded. “I am,” he said. “But we will see each other again.”
“In this life or in the next?”
“Both.”
William fought down the lump in his throat. “Then I look forward to it, wherever our next encounter may be,” he said. “Thank you, Kieran. For everything, I thank you.”
“I could say the same,” Kieran said. “And I have. Until next we meet, my dear friend.”
William lifted a hand to bid the man farewell. His heart was aching, but it was also fortified by the unexpected appearance of the man he loved as a brother. As he watched, Kieran faded back into the shadows of the trees and disappeared.
The night was lonely once again.
“Papa? Papa, wake up.”
Suddenly, William opened his eye and was back in his tent, in the chair he’d been sitting in. He’d leaned his head back to rest on the chair and he was still here. He looked up to see Troy was standing over him.
“Papa?” Troy said, peering at him. “Are you well?”
It took William a moment to orient himself. He looked around as if he had no idea where he was before realizing that he was in his tent near Bailie Castle. Still in the tent and still in the chair he thought he’d climbed out of. Wearily, he rubbed his eye.
“God’s Bones,” he muttered. “I did not realize I’d fallen asleep. I must be more exhausted than I thought.”
“I know,” Troy said. “And I’ll help you to bed, but I had to come and tell you that we just received a missive from Gleann na Fola.”
William stood up wearily. “What missive?”
“From Uncle Paris,” Troy said. “He wanted to tell us that Gar’s fever broke.”
William looked at him in surprise. “He is recovering?”
Troy nodded, a rare smile on his face. “He must be,” he said. “Uncle Paris would not have sent the missive otherwise, I’m sure. But he wanted us to know. My son is going to live, Papa. He’s going to live!”
William put his arms around Troy, who hugged him in return.
They shed tears of joy at that moment, rejoicing in news that was most welcome.
It seemed that all things came together at that moment, the way they were supposed to, and there was reason to celebrate.
The appearance of Kieran, which William did not remember, was only a foretaste of that faith he’d encouraged William to have. After that, the rest fell into place.
A battle of vengeance.
Justice dispensed.
An unexpected visitor.
And a young knight who would live to see the next day.
It was a grand celebration, indeed.