The Magic Stone

Chapter One

Siobhan tripped and fell face first into a mud puddle. From the moment she had arisen this morning nothing had gone right. She wanted to cry, but it was not her way. Besides it might attract unwanted attention. She shuddered. Groaning, Siobhan sat up to survey the damage to her favorite yellow linen gown. Mud dripped from her hair and ran down the front of her gown and across the expensive gold trim. She raised her hand to wipe mud from her cheek; it was then that the stench of horse urine assailed her nostrils. She grimaced in disgust the fabric had been a gift from her father. She and her mother had made the lovely gown but now it was ruined. Siobhan was devastated. She treasured her father’s gift. The fact that it was her own clumsiness, made it worse. She had no one else to blame it on. She felt the cold wetness seep through her undergarments to her skin. She shuddered again, this time from the cold.
Even though it was spring, the weather in this part of Eire was still cool; the wind that blew across nearby Lough Gur was chilly. The yellow Gorse and purple Heather were starting to bloom in the warmth of the daytime sun but as evening came the air grew cooler.
“May I help you?” said an unfamiliar male voice.
Siobhan peeked up at the man standing beside her. He was tall with the most startling blue eyes she had ever seen. Her first instinct was to crawl away and hide. That would be the coward’s way out, and she was anything but.
“Nay,” she replied, “I can manage on my own. I do not think you would like your garments ruined with this foul mud. If you will excuse me I will go and clean up.” She rose up off the ground in one swift motion and started off across the bailey.
“Wait,” said the man, “you dropped this when you fell.” His hand held the green stone she had been carrying. She had forgotten that she had it in her hand before she fell. Siobhan turned and took two steps back to where the man stood.
“Thank you,” she said as she clenched the stone in her muddy fist. She looked at him fully now. His eyes drew her in, and a smile played about the corners of his mouth. It seemed to her that he was enjoying her predicament. “Who are you?” she inquired, “I do not believe I know you.”

“Brendan Collins at your service,” his smile broadened and he gave a slight bow. “Who might you be?” he asked.
“I am Siobhan, Siobhan Fitz William. Please excuse me, I must go.” She turned and fled across the bailey so that he would not see her embarrassment. As Siobhan hurried to the bathing hut, she tried not to think about Brendan Collins, with his bright blue eyes. She was mortified that someone as handsome as he had seen her in such a state.
“Norah, Norah, where are you?” Siobhan shouted as she entered the bathing hut, “I need your help.” The bathing hut was a rectangular building with a fire pit in the center and two wooden tubs on each side of the pit. A large black cauldron hung over the fire pit and was kept filled with water. The fire was tended all day long so that anyone that needed a bath would have hot water. Along one wall was a bench with folded linen cloths, for drying ones self after bathing, and bars of soap. There were pegs above the bench for hanging ones clothes. The bathing hut was a concession to Siobhan’s Viking grandmother.
“Here I am Siobhan. Oh my, what has happened to you?” Norah’s eyes were as big as the wooden bowls they ate porridge from. Then she wrinkled her nose and remarked, “You smell very bad. Your hair is dripping all over your gown.”
“Norah, I know all that,” she gave an exasperated sigh. “I fell in a puddle in the bailey. I need to bathe and put on clean clothes for grandfathers’ celebration. Please go get my mother for me, and tell her I need a clean gown.” She gave Norah a wave of her hand to indicate that she should go immediately.
Siobhan removed her soiled gown and held it up for inspection the dark mud covered more than half of the front of the gown. It was caked on thick in large areas leaving the weaving of the fabric indistinguishable. She gave a disgusted sigh, and threw it on the bench beside the door of the bathing hut. It was her favorite, but she did not think it could be saved. She looked down at her under tunic and wrinkled her nose. It smelled as bad as her gown, but did not have the dark mud imbedded in fine linen weave. She took it off and threw it beside the gown, then walked over to large wooden tub, filled it, then stepped into the steaming hot water. She scooted down until her hair was immersed and let the heat of the water warm her cold flesh.
In her hurry, she had forgotten to take the bar of soap from the bench where she had deposited her clothes. In fact, her gown lay on top of it. “Lord, forgive me for the fool that I am,” she muttered. “I hope Norah hurries back because I do not want to get out of this tub and take a chill,” she spoke aloud to the empty room. She settled back in the warm water and let her thoughts drift. Unbidden a pair of blue eyes entered her mind and she smiled to herself. He was certainly a handsome fellow, but she was in love with Aidan, and dismissed Brendan Collins from her mind. Hearing a noise, she sat up quickly and turned her head to the door just as Norah opened it.
Brendan mused about the muddied red haired beauty that hurried away from him. Her green eyes sparkled with fire, and even though she was covered with mud, there was a dignity in her carriage. She had taken the stone from his hand with her shoulders back and her chin held high. She had spoken in a clear voice as she answered his question. No prissy miss was she, in fact she had hid her embarrassment well and he liked that. The green stone that he had handed back to her was beautifully polished and smooth. It was something he thought he could sell in Cork that would bring a hefty price.
He had wanted to ask her about it but she hurried away so fast that he did not get the chance. He would ask her later where she had obtained it.
Brendan made his way to the entrance of the tower where a young woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to Sean O’Coileain greeted him.
“My name is Brendan Collins and I am here at the invitation of Sean O’Coileain.” Brendan smiled at girl and continued, “I understand that a celebration for his father is to take place here, and Elbert is a cousin of my father.”
“I am Brigid, Sean is my father,” she gave a small courtesy, and then motioned for him to follow her into the hall, which was bustling with activity, and immaculate. The walls were adorned with the traditional elaborate embroidery of their Celtic ancestry. In addition there was a beautiful carved Celtic cross above the dais. It appeared to be of the same green stone that the red-haired young woman had dropped. The hall was much larger than Brendan had expected here in this area of Limerick. Just what he had expected, he wasn’t sure, but perhaps a Rath like the one his father had grown up in.
“Brendan, how good of you to come,” Sean’s voice boomed across the room. “How have you faired this past fortnight?” Sean clapped him on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie.
“Very well,” answered Brendan. “I must say you have an impressive hall.”
“Nay this is not my hall but that of my sister and her family,” replied Sean. “My brother-in-law built it from the remains of my grandmother’s Rath. It was left to my sister, my family and I live in my father’s Rath. It is but a short stroll from here, come I want my father to see you.”
Brendan noticed the same green stone was imbedded in a metal cup that sat in front of a white haired man who also looked very much like Sean. There seemed to be an abundance of gaiety and noise in the hall as well.
“Athair,” said Sean, “This is Brendan who is your Cousin Brian’s son. I met him in Cork a fortnight ago and invited him to your celebration.”
“It is good to meet you sir,” replied Brendan.
“You do not look like your athair,” said Elbert as he surveyed Brendan’s blue eyes and blond hair.
“No I do not; I favor my mother’s Viking people.”
Elbert snorted and gave Brendan the once over then said, “So you do, so you do.”
“My father sends his best wishes to you for a wonderful celebration of your natal day. He would like to have come himself but he is not well, and the trip would have been too much of an ordeal for him,” said Brendan.
“What ails him?” asked Elbert.
“He was wounded by a robber nine days ago, and has not yet recovered. In fact he seems to be getting worse as the days go by. Mother has sent for the Abbot at Red Abbey. He is a known healer; all should be well by the time I return home.” Brendan was about to continue but a great commotion at the other end of the hall caught everyone’s attention.
Entering the hall were two men and a lovely lady with sparkling deep blue eyes. Her hair was completely covered by her crispinette but he could see that the color was light brown and he noted that she had a trim figure that would turn any man’s head. The man to her left was tall with red gold hair, green eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. The man to her right, who was clean-shaven, was even taller and had deep brown hair and eyes. He was very broad of shoulder and had a dimple on his chin. They were introduced to Brendan as Sir David Fitz William and his longtime friend Sir Simon de Foe, and on Sir Simon’s arm the lovely lady was Sara Fitz William. She had clear creamy skin with a few freckles across her nose. Brendan immediately noticed the similarity of Sir David to the young woman he had met in the bailey.
“Welcome to Dair Keep,” said Sir David “I hope you will be pleased with your stay here.”
“Thank you,” replied Brendan as he gave a slight bow of his head, “I am sure I will.”
“Where is Siobhan?” asked Sir David as his eyes searched the room. “She should already be here.”
“She had a slight accident in the bailey and will be delayed,” replied Dame Sara with a smile. “She should be here anon.”
“We must not keep our guests standing, let us be seated, and let the celebration begin,” offered Sir David. “I am certain Siobhan will be here before the roast pig is served.”
“Sean, father will sit at the head of the dais this day and preside over the meal. Will you escort him up the steps, and see that he is properly seated?” requested Sara.
Once everyone was seated and the trenchers were placed, Brendan noticed an empty space next to a man he was introduced to as Aidan Murphy. It was obvious that whoever was to sit there would share a trencher with Aidan. Brendan surmised that it must be Siobhan. He was sharing his with Brigid. She was a pretty thing but paled in comparison to the green-eyed Siobhan.
The second course was being served when Siobhan entered wearing a beautiful smile and a striking green gown that set off the copper tresses that were peeking from beneath her crispinette.
She went straight to her grandfather and planted a kiss on his weathered cheek then handed him a small leather pouch. “This will protect you from mischief when the wee folk are about.” She said loud enough for all to hear.
“This must be a magic stone then,” Elbert said as he removed the beautiful green stone from its pouch and ran his fingers over the smooth polished stone.
“Aye, I have imbued it with a magic chant of old.” She stood beside him with her hands on her hips and a grin on her face.
“Thank you child, I shall treasure it and keep it with me always. Now go and sit, the meal grows cold.” His voice was gruff and those who knew him well knew it was because he was touched by her gift.
Siobhan took her seat next Aidan, “have they already passed the roast pig?”
“Nay,” replied Aidan.
She looked across the table at Brigid and said, “You know how the roast pig is my favorite, as well as the Grete Pye.” She shrugged her shoulders while tilting her head to one side. “I was afraid with my late arrival I might have missed them.” She took a bite of fish from Aidan’s trencher.
“Brendan, have you met my cousin, Siobhan?” asked Brigid.
“Well yes I have, out in the bailey. We met when I arrived, however I must say she looks much better now than she did then.” Brendan grinned at Siobhan and winked.
“Unfortunately, I was not at my best just then.” She hoped her voice sounded as irritated as she felt. She decided he was no gentleman to have mentioned her predicament, especially in front of others. She made up her mind to try to ignore him for the duration of the meal, unfortunately he was not going to co-operate.
“I would ask, fair lady, where you obtained the lovely green stone I retrieved for you in the bailey?” inquired Brendan. “I would like to obtain some like it.”
Siobhan looked directly at him. “Would you really, I doubt you have enough coin to purchase them. The cost of the labor makes them very expensive. That is, unless you have a craftsman who can shape and polish them.” She watched his eyes as they widened slightly. Feeling she had put him in his place, she smiled and took a sip of her mead. She was totally unprepared for his response.
“What makes you think that I do not have the coin, name a price?” He cocked his head to one side and continued. “For all you know I am very well off.” He saluted her with his cup of Mead.
“You are quite right; I do not know the extent of your wealth. However I am the one who cut and polished the stone, and I only do that when I want to for those I love. It takes many hours to accomplish the task; I have no desire to sell you anything I make.” She took another sip of her Mead.
“You seem quite sure about that, I however would like the chance to change your mind. I can offer you a great deal of money, and you may create anything you like. I see that your work is of the finest quality, and I would give you as the artisan full credit when I sell your work.”
“Nay, I am not interested,” she responded as she pursed her lips together.
“Siobhan, are you not being a little hasty?” said Aidan. “After all you yourself have said you enjoy making items from the marble. Why not make a few coins and a name for yourself.”
She raised her left eyebrow, “Aidan, think you that I do not know my own mind. I have given him my answer, and it will not change. Let us not speak of this subject any longer.” She turned to the serving maid who was passing with a tray of roast pig. She took a healthy helping and began to eat with gusto. She could feel Brendan’s eyes upon her, but decided to ignore him. No one was going to spoil the feast for her beloved grandfather, least of all an outsider. It suddenly occurred to her that he was sharing Brigid’s trencher. It was most unusual for an outsider to be sharing a trencher with a member of the family.
While it was true that Aidan was not a member of the family he soon would be. She wondered how much longer it would be before he spoke to her father asking for her hand. “Tell me Brendan how is it that you came to be here for my grandfather’s natal celebration?” queried Siobhan.
“Sean invited my family a fortnight ago when he was in Cork. My father and your grandfather are cousins. My father unfortunately is too ill to come, so I came in his place.”
“I see,” replied Siobhan. At least now she knew why he shared Brigid’s trencher. “I am sorry to hear that your father is ill I hope he recovers soon.”
Siobhan smiled up at Aidan in what she must have thought was a beguiling manner. Aidan asked to be excused and patted Siobhan on the shoulder as he left the table. It was obvious that Siobhan had missed the looks exchanged between Brigid and Aidan, but Brendan did not. Brigid sat unmoving with her head down and continued to eat her meal. Brendan wondered how long it would be before Brigid excused herself to join Aidan.