Cailín (Lass) (Anam Céile Chronicles) Read Online Free Page B

imagining the uproar of laughter from him over this one.
    Instead,
he became greatly infuriated, his face reddening as he bellowed out
aggressively, “Meara, what it be always I be tellin’ you?  A dreamer, she be,
every bit of logic set ablaze in that bonfire shrouding her head.  An iarlais of the sidhe this one be , sent here to curse us fer God knows
what!”
    In me
defense, me mama pleaded with him, “Now Quinlan, must you be so harsh with
Aislinn?  ‘Tis her birthday, after all…”
    “Hold
yer tongue, woman!  Don’t you be coddlin’ that iarlais !  Suspectin’ her
fer the sidhe I’ve been ever since she came to us with her imp hand, and
flashin’ that wicked red mane of hers!  Any sensible person could see that she
possesses all the marks of being bitten by the devil!”
    Of
course, he referred to me red hair and freckles, as well as me favoured use of
me left hand, something viewed as totally reprehensible, associated with the
witchcraft, not to mention a multitude of other sins and defects.   The
perpetual reminder that I be the black (well actually, red!) sheep in his
family of proper brunettes.  Me mama looked at me powerlessly, as I shriveled
from his slurs, turning to go on to me room.
    Speaking
to me again, he outraged, “Turn not from me, Gingernut !” he stopped, and
only glared at me.  The rising uneasiness unnerved me as I began to fidget
anxiously.  After a bevy of agitating seconds, finally, he spoke again. 
    “ This you will take heed of right now, lass.  Marry a right man you will .  And
you’ll stand behind him as his wife, bear all his children, tend his house, and
fix the meals fer him and his brood the whole of the day, each and every one! 
‘Twas this you were meant to do.  Now cast them notions outa yer head and forge
ahead and prepare yerself to attend to yer duty without grumbles!”
    From
the severity in his eyes and gravity of his tone, I did not doubt he meant all
he said.  Nevertheless, how could I back down, and allow him dictate the
outcome of me life.  What did it matter to him at all? 
    Darting
through me head were these thoughts when I burst out, “I’ll not be or do
as you say!” 
    Before
I knew what had happened, his ensuing blow to me head had knocked me right off
me feet, landing upon me side.  This time, I knew well not to utter another
word, lest I wished fer more of the same.  
    Stunned,
I lay still upon the ground.  Although I felt the rage rising up in me, I dared
not stir ‘til he be gone. 
    As he
moved away, me mama knelt down to the ground by me side, empathy clear in her
eyes as she looked upon me.  I struggled to hold back me tears as her fingers
moved through the disarrayed curls of me hair, brushing the area he had
bruised.   And whence she withdrew her fingers from me hair, the tips of them they
be covered with blood. 
    Gently
she whispered, “Aislinn.  Now why must you provoke yer father so?  I understand
you did not like what say he, but mind yerself now and be a good lass, won’t
you?”
    I only
looked back at her with quiet frustration as on to bed she gently helped me. 
As she looked back upon me, I could see she be fully knowing I did not intend
to back down and submit to the demands of me father.  That troubled her, fer she
be aware the path I chose would be uncertain and fraught with difficulties. 
Nevertheless, as she tucked me in and kissed me head goodnight, I knew that she
loved me no matter what path I did choose, and more than all else, wished
genuinely fer me contentment.
    The
next morn’, arose early I did and made sharp time of me chores as I felt the
restlessness that was besetting me more frequently, gnawing at me.  A
remarkably lovely day it be— even fer this early May— the sun shining
brilliantly, as if striving to lift me from this morose mood I did carry. 
Before going, I climbed atop the bales of hay to fetch me fiddle from its usual
hiding place in the barn— lodged up atop of a