Chapter 2: Londinium
They reached Londinium on Midwinter. They were surprised to find that there was not a single person celebrating the holiday. Back in Ireland, any city or town that you passed through would have been alive with merriment. The soldiers brought their captives through the dark streets; guttering torches lighting their way. A few residents peered out their windows as they saw a group of women and a little boy being led y English soldiers.
"Picked up for thieving," some towns-people whispered. The more frequent rumor was "They were found in the woods practicing dark magic. Possibly even witchcraft."
This rumor, the O'Noclahn's half agreed with for, by their own choice, they were pagan, practicing the ancient Druid ways. It was not uncommon only because Christianity had not yet spread to the far reaches of western Ireland. Traces of the new religion could be found in Baile atha Claith, but most still believed in the ancient ways.
The soldiers led their captives unceremoniously through the heavy castle gates. Within, even more stony faced soldiers awaited Ceara and her family. One soldier with the mark of a captain said roughly, "For the night, you will be staying in the dungeons; the rightful lodging for people like yourselves."
The whole family protested this harsh treatment, but they only received a harsher one with whips being lashed across their backs and being beaten with cudgels. Ceara suffered the most because she tried to keep Myechiyel away from the reach of the weapons. Blood and sweat mingled with dark bruises on Ceara's light skin, creating a gruesome picture.
In the dark depths of a dungeon, the O'Noclahn family awoke. Around them came the sounds of jeering male prisoners and guards. Any obscenity that was thrown at Ceara or Ebekah was ignored. The sisters had learned early in life that acknowledging a rude comment only opened them up for more.
For most of the day, they stayed silent, lost in their own thoughts. Why must I live out what is left of y life in such a barren place as this? wondered Diedyia. Ebekah only wondered, How will Savin find me? He doesn't even know that I have been taken. Contempt and anguish filled her thoughts, making them more sure than she actually felt. Myechiyel only wondered why his kinswomen were so upset about leaving home. For the little boy, this was all a grand adventure.
Ceara, however, was thinking about many different things. Never once was it said that I had an aptitude for the Sight. Why now, then, am I being granted visions? Four days ago I dreamt about this castle. Now I am here. What does all of this mean? Besides questioning her dreams, Ceara worried and wondered about her life. What if Fate decides that I should do something different than what Diedyia wants me to? She has everything planned out; Ebekah was going to be a wife and mother, our now dead brother was going to be a merchant, and I was going to be sent off to become a priestess among the Druids of Ireland. When things go against Diedyia's plans, she becomes a very miserable controlling person. Ebekah probably hasn't noticed it, but I have; she's beginning to plot and curse. With a sigh of resignation, Ceara got up and began to pace around the small cell. The smell of old straw filled her nose, but underneath it was something far more pleasant; the sent of hope. Standing in a corner, she watched her dismal family. Ebekah's eyes were puffy and red with tears; Diedyia had a calculating look on her face; and Myechiyel had mere confusion written all over his. Catching Ceara's eyes, he got up and walked over to her.
"Ceara, why is everyone so sad?" Puzzlement filled his young voice as he tried to fathom reasons beyond him. Picking her nephew up, she explained everything in the only way she knew how; by the stark truth.
"Myechiyel, each one of us is sad for our own reasons." Gently, she told him what was going on and that she didn't know what was going to happen to them.
Suddenly, a guard appeared at their cell. "All of you, up on your feet. You're going to be brought before His Majesty, King Edward the Longshanks. I suggest you stay quiet so that his punishment will be merciful."
They reached Londinium on Midwinter. They were surprised to find that there was not a single person celebrating the holiday. Back in Ireland, any city or town that you passed through would have been alive with merriment. The soldiers brought their captives through the dark streets; guttering torches lighting their way. A few residents peered out their windows as they saw a group of women and a little boy being led y English soldiers.
"Picked up for thieving," some towns-people whispered. The more frequent rumor was "They were found in the woods practicing dark magic. Possibly even witchcraft."
This rumor, the O'Noclahn's half agreed with for, by their own choice, they were pagan, practicing the ancient Druid ways. It was not uncommon only because Christianity had not yet spread to the far reaches of western Ireland. Traces of the new religion could be found in Baile atha Claith, but most still believed in the ancient ways.
The soldiers led their captives unceremoniously through the heavy castle gates. Within, even more stony faced soldiers awaited Ceara and her family. One soldier with the mark of a captain said roughly, "For the night, you will be staying in the dungeons; the rightful lodging for people like yourselves."
The whole family protested this harsh treatment, but they only received a harsher one with whips being lashed across their backs and being beaten with cudgels. Ceara suffered the most because she tried to keep Myechiyel away from the reach of the weapons. Blood and sweat mingled with dark bruises on Ceara's light skin, creating a gruesome picture.
In the dark depths of a dungeon, the O'Noclahn family awoke. Around them came the sounds of jeering male prisoners and guards. Any obscenity that was thrown at Ceara or Ebekah was ignored. The sisters had learned early in life that acknowledging a rude comment only opened them up for more.
For most of the day, they stayed silent, lost in their own thoughts. Why must I live out what is left of y life in such a barren place as this? wondered Diedyia. Ebekah only wondered, How will Savin find me? He doesn't even know that I have been taken. Contempt and anguish filled her thoughts, making them more sure than she actually felt. Myechiyel only wondered why his kinswomen were so upset about leaving home. For the little boy, this was all a grand adventure.
Ceara, however, was thinking about many different things. Never once was it said that I had an aptitude for the Sight. Why now, then, am I being granted visions? Four days ago I dreamt about this castle. Now I am here. What does all of this mean? Besides questioning her dreams, Ceara worried and wondered about her life. What if Fate decides that I should do something different than what Diedyia wants me to? She has everything planned out; Ebekah was going to be a wife and mother, our now dead brother was going to be a merchant, and I was going to be sent off to become a priestess among the Druids of Ireland. When things go against Diedyia's plans, she becomes a very miserable controlling person. Ebekah probably hasn't noticed it, but I have; she's beginning to plot and curse. With a sigh of resignation, Ceara got up and began to pace around the small cell. The smell of old straw filled her nose, but underneath it was something far more pleasant; the sent of hope. Standing in a corner, she watched her dismal family. Ebekah's eyes were puffy and red with tears; Diedyia had a calculating look on her face; and Myechiyel had mere confusion written all over his. Catching Ceara's eyes, he got up and walked over to her.
"Ceara, why is everyone so sad?" Puzzlement filled his young voice as he tried to fathom reasons beyond him. Picking her nephew up, she explained everything in the only way she knew how; by the stark truth.
"Myechiyel, each one of us is sad for our own reasons." Gently, she told him what was going on and that she didn't know what was going to happen to them.
Suddenly, a guard appeared at their cell. "All of you, up on your feet. You're going to be brought before His Majesty, King Edward the Longshanks. I suggest you stay quiet so that his punishment will be merciful."