Wild Rose of Ireland

Chapter 49 Eyes of Ireland {Part One}

Chapter 49 Eyes of Ireland {Part One}

The sky had turned pitch black by the time the men made it to the very top of the island. According to the map, Daniea's family cottage was only a mile or so away and the desire to keep walking was agonizing; but without their mounts the men were fully exhausted by the trek and had to bed down for the night.

Jamie couldn't help but toss and turn on his bed roll. The foreign land and Rory's random whimpers kept him restless. During the night he was roused time and time again by the scent of lilac and black currant wafting on the breeze. Finally when light began to creep upon the horizon he managed to jostle Murtagh awake and begin the last leg of their hike.

Within minutes, Rory began to bark viciously and sprinted towards the sound of waves crashing upon rock in the distance. Color was barely blossoming in the sky when the men caught up to the dog, who stood barking incessantly towards the sight in the distance.

Before them stood massive jagged cliffs, their drop offs hanging over the thunderous waves that crashed violently upon their sides. Standing inches away from one of these edges was the silhouette of a barefoot woman. Her dark unbound hair billowing around her as she looked out towards the new dawn, her body beginning to tip forward inch by inch as the light grew brighter.

Jamie was moving without a thought. His heart pumped furiously urging his body to go faster. The wind roared in his ears, stifling any attempt of screaming at her, as he watched on in horror as she let herself fall forward. One second she was standing before him, the next he was barreling over the side after her.

He had managed to claw a handful of her skirt, slamming her hard into the side of the mountain. Crying out at the sudden pain, she writhed uncontrollably against the jagged rock face; all the while Jamie holding on to her for dear life. His torso bent over the cliff edge, trying to grasp a hold of her arm to pull her up. Tears welled in his eyes as he finally clawed at her upper arm, dragging her bit by bit back over the precipice. His strength subduing the gravity that fought to drag him down with the girl.

Murtagh, speeding to their aid, stopped short once he saw Jamie was fully back onto the mountain; hauling a bloody Daniea after him. The two collapsed in a tangled heap on the grass, their chests heaving as Daniea struggled against Jamie who refused to let her go.

"Daniea!" He screamed at the thrashing woman. "Daniea stop!"

She only lasted against him for a few seconds before he had her pinned beneath him.
His chest ached as he stared down at her. The once vibrant healer was now emaciated and sallow. Her face was sunken in, making her features sharp and stark against the dark circles surrounding her now dull green eyes. He wanted to back away for fear of breaking her further, but the look she had held him steady.

"Let me go." She pleaded, "Please Jamie."

"No." he growled, hauling her into his arms, carrying her far away from the cliff edge.

Jamie walked and kept walking for almost a half mile until he put her down in the soft grass.

"M'iníon," Murtagh whispered as he knelt in front of her, grasping her scarred and bloody hands between his. "Why didn't ye wait? I promised ye I.."

"I'm tired." She interrupted, sobs beginning to wrack her frail body. "I'm sorry athair...I'm just so very tired."

"I know." He whispered, pulling her into his embrace. "I know."

Jamie paced near them, looking on as his godfather ran his hands through Daniea's hair and allowed her to weep into his shoulder. All the while, Rory laid down nearby whimpering at the mournful noise.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Hours passed and it was nearing mid-day when Murtagh finally convinced Daniea to give him another day. Jamie tentatively approached Daniea, Rory at his heels.

"It's a long walk to your cottage I'm told, may I aid you mistress?" He asked, his voice gentle.

Murtagh nodded, responding for her.

Softly this time he lifted her into his arms like he had many a time but this was truly different. Step by step Jamie was in mental anguish. Every harsh word, fight, or brush with death ran through his mind. Cresting that final hill once more, Daniea gestured to Jamie's right. Yards away from the cliffside she had dove from, was a small walking path leading to a medium sized white cottage and a barn in disrepair.

The inside was roomier than the men would have expected but was clearly in need of repair. The only part of the house that looked to be in use was a small cot under the window. Gingerly Jamie set Daniea back on her feet next to the cot.

"Well I know I have worked up quite the appetite." Murtagh half joked. "I believe I will go explore the island a bit and see about hunting us dinner."

He nodded assuringly at Daniea before taking his leave.

"I need to lay down." She announced to Jamie as she turned away to strip her dress down to her more comfortable shift.

Jamie's eyes widened as he began to see the full extent of her physical state. Before she slid beneath the cots tattered quilt, he was able to not only count most of her bones as the soft fabric clung to her figure; but scar upon scar. Her body, a roadmap of trauma much like his own.

He internally winced as he forced himself to listen to her groans as she attempted to get comfortable on the hard pallet. New bruises blooming along her bloodied skin, the signs of the mornings struggle on the cliff.

"When did you get the hound?" She asked cordially as she turned on her side, carefully tucking her arm beneath her head for extra support.

Jamie glanced around, spotted a small chair and pulled it to her bedside.

"He found me yesterday." He smiled, "Gave him a meal and he's stuck with us ever since."

A weary smile graced her lips as she looked at the dog, who sat by the door away from the two.

"Did ye give it a name?"

"Rory."

At the mention of his new moniker, the dog's tail went mad.

"Well it's nice to meet you Rory." Daniea told the pup. "Since you both are here, make yerselves at home."

Moments later, the days toll finally became apparent as she fell into a deep sleep. Every few seconds a shiver would shake her fragile form, as her body fought to stay warm. Jamie urgently unpacked his bedroll and laid it over the thin, moth-eaten quilt.

Before he realized it, he was kneeling before her. Drawing his hand together, he began to pray. The sweet gaelic pouring forth from his lips as tears stung his eyes, their truth in desperate need to be heard.