36
The next morning brought more snow. Sarah knew she’d never forget how close they came to losing everything. And in spite of her brave words to Mike, she was sure she’d never feel safe again. The attack on the convent in many ways was the hardest blow. For so long she had believed it was the only safe place left.
The fact that the convent had been found by Hurley’s lot had shaken Sarah to her core.
Frank and Robby assured them that while it was true Hurley had burned the convent and killed Mac, most of the sisters had not been harmed. She had to believe that. But even so it gave little comfort.
Her safe haven was not safe nor a haven. Was any place?
Most of the women stayed in the castle with the babies and children or in the kitchen baking bread and cooking up the last of the rabbits for lunch. Shaun was overseeing the sealing up of the castle tunnel by the two young soldiers. Mike spent the morning resting and regaining his strength until it was time to come together to bury their dead.
Sarah needed to walk the parking lot and step off the dormant garden. She needed to see that the army was truly gone, even if they’d left plenty of evidence of their brief occupation.
“Blimey, they’re pigs!” Terry said as he and two other men sorted through the debris left behind.
The fleeing army had left mostly garbage and half-formed attempts at latrines that were surprisingly full for as brief as they’d been there.
Fiona was inside with Declan’s body until it was time. Beryl and Declan would both be buried next to Maeve in the far corner of the garden—as well as the two soldiers killed in the tunnel.
As Sarah bent to pick up trash, she found herself periodically looking down the long road to see if she could spot anyone coming. The road had developed a light dusting of snow which muffled the sounds of the men and women picking up trash.
She shivered in her wool jacket and was nearly ready to come inside for a hot cup of anything when she spotted a flash of color. Squinting, she saw that it was an article of clothing on the ground. She stepped closer for a better look.
And then froze. It was a woman’s scarf. And she had seen it before.
She picked up the scarf and held it in trembling hands as she remembered the last time she’d seen it—knotted around Jaz Cooper’s neck. The fabric was tinged with brown stains—old blood. Sarah closed her eyes and felt a groan lift up out of her diaphragm.
God, no, please don’t. It can’t be.
She stood and looked around the debris field, her heart pounding as she frantically scanned the area for any more clues.
Was it really Jaz’s? She looked at it again. There could be no doubt. She stuffed it in her jacket and stumbled away, her stomach roiling with nausea.
Had the girls run into the army? Is that what this meant? She twisted her head and looked at the castle. The young soldiers, Frank and Robby, would know. She stood staring at the castle but her feet refused to move.
As long as she stayed right here, didn’t go inside, and didn’t ask them for the truth, both Jaz and Regan lived.
She looked up at the slow moving grey clouds and the falling snow. This day right now holds them in it alive.
But the minute I go inside and ask…
She turned and slowly began to make her way back to the castle. A prayer over and over on her lips…
The fields to the south of the castle looked as devoid of life as every pasture in Ireland did in November. The creeping afternoon mist advanced steadily toward the castle.
Mike watched as the men lowered first Beryl and then Declan into the ground. Every single person, every baby and every child watched with him while the cold and wet mist slithered under jackets and wool caps. A few babies cried. A few babies were always crying.
Mike held Siobhan in one arm—his good arm—and Sarah’s hand with the other.
All the people gathered into two groups—the original castle people and the compound people. Each group had lost a beloved member. Both were brought together today and unified by their grief.
Shaun stood with Saoirse at the far corner of the castle group. It had taken every ounce of Mike’s self-control—and a full hour of convincing from Sarah—to forgive the woman but he had done so for Shaun’s sake and the sake of their cohesion as a community. Now Saoirse stood dry-eyed and bored as her mother was laid to rest.
It seemed Saoirse had slipped away from the army after her betrayal of the castle and hid in the woods until they’d left. As Mike watched her now, he heard Sarah’s words echoing in his head that forgiving Saoirse was the first step toward gaining each other’s trust—something they needed to do to go forward.
Mike felt the weariness sink deep into his bones as he listened to the compound men say a few words about Declan. Fiona stood at the front of the group with little Ciara by her side.
So much sadness, Mike thought. Is this how it’s always going to be? Constantly losing the ones we love? A stab of anger pierced him as he listened and he fought to soften it. Now was not the time for anger. Now was the time for goodbye. And for forgiveness. Sarah squeezed his hand and he glanced at her. She raised an eyebrow. She could always read his mind. He gave a slight shake of his head.
I’m fine.
At least as fine as anyone can be in this new world of ours.
Fiona stepped forward and threw a handful of dirt into the open grave. When would he see his sister smile again? Would that be any day now because of something Ciara said or did? Or would it take months for her to see the world as something besides bleak and cruel?
How many more burials would there be? He watched as the castle and compound people stepped forward one by one to drop handfuls of dirt into the graves. Frank and Robby had confirmed that Jaz and Regan had both been killed two weeks earlier by the army and their bodies left in the woods for the foxes and crows.
Sarah squeezed his hand again so he knew he must’ve flinched or stiffened again.
He and Gavin and Frank would go first thing in the morning to find what they could of their remains.
And then we’ll do this all over again, he thought bitterly as he watched Shaun weep unashamedly for the loss of his mother.
That night was a muted celebration. When the drawbridge closed and all the hearths were roaring with warmth and the spits were full of roasting meats, there was an infectious feeling in the castle of comfort and safety.
Mike hated seeing the empty chair next to Fiona at dinner. He knew it was just for tonight and he appreciated the symbolic gesture. But there would be so many times in the coming days when he would feel the keen loss of his best mate. He needed whatever moments he could find where he could forget—just for a little bit—the gaping hole in his heart.
The children always served to tear the adults out of their unhappiness, Mike noticed as he watched Sarah with Siobhan on her lap. The child had settled with her somewhat and he was relieved to see it. It wasn’t that Sarah was any less anxious about Siobhan’s safety—was she?—or at least not that he could detect, but there was a noticeable resurgence of that Sarah strength that had been missing for so long. That was the thing he was sure Siobhan was picking up on. She was feeling safe in Sarah’s arms.
Sarah had taken the news of Regan’s death hard. Not unlike their dearest adopted daughter Papin, Mike thought with sadness, Regan had been a trial for everyone from day one. But also like Papin she’d evolved into a strong-willed young woman whom both Mike and Sarah had been proud of. In some ways, the loss of Regan hurt worse than Declan’s because Regan was young and vibrant.
She was like a strong Ireland enduring unimaginable hardships and coming out on the other side.
Except of course she hadn’t.
Shaun stood and raised his hands for silence in the dining hall. Sarah looked questioningly at Mike but he shrugged.
“I’d like to say a few words,” Shaun said, “on this sad but happy day for all of us at Henredon Castle.” He looked at Mike from across the room and Mike gave a slight nod of affirmation.
“Not to put aside our grief or make small of that because we have all lost important people today,” Shaun said, his voice wavering with emotion. “But we did an incredible thing as a community yesterday. We came together—castle and compound people alike—and we did the impossible. We fought against an army and won.”
Shaun held up a glass of wine in Mike’s direction. “I for one am happy to belong to this community and I pledge wholeheartedly my support and loyalty to Mike Donovan and to all the good people of Henredon Castle.”
The hall erupted in cheers and shouts of “Hear! Hear!” Mike lifted his glass to Shaun.
Well, at least that’s settled, he thought. And all it took was a broken nose, two fractured ribs, seven deaths, getting stabbed, and a cow blown all to shite. But he smiled tiredly and lifted his glass again and again to all the people who turned and toasted him.
And when he caught Sarah’s sad eyes he could see she was thinking pretty much the same thing.