Chapter Five
Emllyn wasn’t quite sure what it was.
It was a person, that was for certain, but she wasn’t sure if it was man or woman.
Whatever it was smelled to high heaven of rot and feces, dressed in layers of raggedy clothing, and had something sticking out of its mouth that smoked up on the end of it.
The smoke smelled like shite. Whatever it was had knocked on her door and when she had opened the panel, it had wandered in and taken up position on the stool near the hearth. And there it continued to sit.
Clad in the heavy shift and green coat that kept her very warm, Emllyn sat upon the bed and watched the figure curiously.
She wasn’t afraid of it, for it was very small and seemingly feeble.
With its broad features and smoking pipe, she simply wasn’t sure what to make of it.
It hadn’t even spoken to her. It just sat and puffed.
Therefore, it was a very strange standoff.
It was the morning after the night of passion with Devlin.
Emllyn had awoken alone on the big bed, bewilderment running wild in her mind.
As much as she wanted to hate him, to curse him, she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it.
He’d done something to her, marked her somehow, and she could no longer view his actions as brutality.
It was… something else. Something else that baffled her and warmed her at the same time.
But one thing was certain – the girl who had stowed away on the fleet had become a woman in the bed of the enemy.
As Emllyn lay upon the bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling more disorientation than she ever had, the door had opened and Enda had entered.
The old woman had brought the morning meal of cheese and bread, and behind her came young Nessa with a bowl of warmed water and the lumpy bar of soap that smelled of grass.
After devouring the food, Emllyn had used the water and soap to clean herself, perhaps washing the smell of Devlin off of her but every time she caught a whiff of his musk, her body betrayed her by feeling warm and giddy.
Furious, she had scrubbed her hands and face, and between her legs, washing all she could of the man off of her.
By then, Enda and Nessa had left her, seeing that she was in no mood for their assistance.
Emllyn needed to be left alone.
But then the old creature had come, wandering in and squatting by the fire.
As the day neared the nooning hour, Emllyn continued to watch the figure, wondering why it had come.
It simply sat, stank, and smoked. Finally, Emllyn could stand no more.
She got up off the bed and moved carefully in the creature’s direction. Summoning her courage, she spoke.
“Who are you?” she asked. “What is your name?”
The old figure puffed on its pipe, filling the room with the heavy smoke of human excrement.
“Each was a game, each was a jest, until Devlin spoke for naught,” it said in a raspy tone.
“This thing will hang over him forever. Yesterday he was larger than a mountain. Today there is nothing of him but a shadow.”
Emllyn blinked, confused. “Who is shadow?” she asked. “Devlin?”
The old creature sat and puffed, puffed, puffed.
Emllyn was uncertain what to do. After several long moment, she simply shrugged and turned away; the old person wasn’t doing any harm, she supposed, so there was no reason to provoke it or throw it from the room.
In truth, she didn’t know what to do, so she wandered over to the lancet window that overlooked the sea.
The brisk breeze caressed her face and as Emllyn gazed out over the expanse of blue, she could see the gulls screaming along the shoreline.
Something about the sights and smells of the ocean made her feel better, fresher and newer, and lifted her spirits.
She very much wanted to walk outside, to feel the sun on her face and inhale deeply of the fresh air, but instead she was stuck in a chamber with a creature that inhaled the smoke of burning shite. It was a very strange circumstance.
From the angle of the window, she could see part of the shoreline to the north and as she strained to see what she could see, she caught glimpses of wrecked and dismantled ships.
The sea was very angry, churning wildly around the doomed vessels and she could see many men swarming over the ruins.
They were carrying things away; lumber or smaller objects in their quest to demolish Kildare’s invasion fleet.
There was a good deal of flotsam and debris still in the water and washed up on shore, and it took her some time to realize that most of the debris were human remains.
Emllyn sighed with sorrow at the sight. There were literally hundreds of bodies, going ignored by the Irish as they focused on the vessels that were of some value.
She inevitably thought of Trevor and wondered if he was among the dead half-buried in the sand, washed upon by waves as if they were nothing of matter.
It was sad, truly. The more she watched, the more saddened she became.
Devlin wouldn’t let her see the prisoners.
She accepted that for the moment because she knew at some point, she might be able to convince him otherwise.
Be compliant! Aye, she would be compliant but just because she was compliant didn’t mean she was a weak little fool.
The man intended to keep her bottled up in the keep forever but she could not allow it.
He wasn’t here now and she seriously doubted that he had a guard posted outside the chamber.
Emllyn began to feel an almost desperate measure to see if Trevor was among the dead that littered the rocky shore.
At least if she found him, then she would know the truth.
But if he wasn’t there, then perhaps he was indeed among the captives.
Glancing over her shoulder at the tiny figure that was filling her chamber with the smell of feces, she made her way over to the bed and lifted one of the garments that were still strewn across the bottom of the mattress.
She was still wearing the green coat and shift, and the heavy robe that draped over her shoulders, but she wanted more.
Perhaps more would shield her from the Irish as she made her way back to the point where she had first come ashore.
A cloak of brown wool was in her grip, plain but serviceable, and she slung it over her shoulders and tied it about the neck. Quietly, she made her way to the door but as she put her hand on the latch, the tiny figure spoke.
“He showed displeasure in Finn,” it said, looking at Emllyn for the first time since entering the room. The eyes were sunken and dark. “He was but distant and soon Finn would suffer.”
Emllyn looked at the person, having no idea what it was saying.
Obviously, it was quite mad so she ignored it and opened the latch.
The door creaked open slowly, letting forth a rush of cold air from the floor below that smelled like damp stone, but as Emllyn had surmised there was no one guarding the door.
In fact, it was as dark and cold as a tomb as she slipped out onto the dim landing.
The steps leading down were narrow and well-used.
Emllyn clung to the wall as she descended the spiral steps, very nervous and alert.
This had all seemed like a sound and reasonable idea until she had left the chamber.
Now, her heart was in her throat and her mouth was dry.
Back came the memories of the night she had arrived and the terror she had felt while being manhandled up these very stairs.
No matter what had happened with Devlin since then and no matter what odd emotions she had experienced, the fact remained that she was an enemy in enemy lands.
There were those who would kill her as easily as look at her. She had to be vigilant.
The steps led down to the hall where she had cowered under the table the night of chaos.
The table was there and she recognized it, cluttered and chipped from the Irishmen who had drunkenly supped upon the surface.
Even though the hall was empty, she could still hear the cheers of the rebels and the barks of the dogs as the men hailed their mighty victory against the English.
Emllyn began to feel that familiar terror again, swallowing down the bile in her throat and struggling not to panic.
Men that her brother and father and grandfather had fought against had gathered in this room to declare supremacy over the English. She could feel their hatred.
But the fact remained that the room was empty except for the dogs sleeping near the hearth.
As she tread carefully into the chamber, doggy heads came up and looked at her but they made no sound.
There was also a very big bird near the hearth, resting on a big iron stand.
The bird had a hood over its head and seemed to be sleeping.
Emllyn scooted past the dogs, and the bird, and towards the great entry with light from the other side sending streams of illumination into the room.
The door was big and heavy as she carefully cracked it open and peered outside.
A wide-open world rolled out before her complete with a big drawbridge that linked the keep with a massive bailey on the other side. She could hear waves crashing but she couldn’t see them; it seemed that they were on an outcropping of some sort and surrounded by the sea.