Rundimahair: A new hero for a new adventure by Larry Forkner (summer books .TXT) 📗

nodded her head slowly as she walked toward Sean. He stared into her beautiful green eyes that often sparkled with humor and intelligence. Her eyes were softer now and seemed to be filled with compassion and warmth. He was sure that this was the look that some of her patients saw when she was about to deliver bad news.

“You can see this is not going to work, Da,” she said, looking at Eamon. He has to go back to his own world.”

“Don’t be too hasty with your decision, my dear girl,” Eamon said, as he stepped through the saloon doors. “You may be condemning him to death and taking the last ray of hope away from our people.”

She stared at her father for several long moments, before she sighed deeply and said, “It’s my decision to make, Da. I’ll give him another treatment before he goes to be sure he’ll never recall being in Rundimahair.”

“And what of our enemies? If they suspect he is the one we’ve been waiting for, then he’s as good as dead.”

“They’ve not laid eyes on him; of that I am certain,” Ashling said firmly. “As long as his memory of us is completely gone, then he’ll have nothing to fear.”

“And if he’s the one I suspect he is?” Eamon asked, his eyes filled with sadness.

“He’s not, Da.”

“Are you so certain of this, my darling girl?” Eamon asked.

Even Sean saw the hesitation in Ashling’s eyes, for just a moment, before she regained her resolve and said, “I’m sure.”

Eamon didn’t respond, but only shook his head sorrowfully. Ashling looked as though her own heart was breaking, as she turned to Sean.

“I couldn’t be sorrier no matter how hard I tried, Sean. It was a mistake to bring you here, although we had little choice at the time. What were we to do? We couldn’t stand back and watch while you crashed into the ravine.”

She took another step closer, and he waited for his fight or flight instinct to kick in. Instead of running, Sean felt the urge to step forward and embrace Ashling. She was indeed a beautiful woman, but it still seemed an odd inclination considering the awkward circumstances. Her next steps brought her into his personal space—only a couple of inches separating them.

“Ashling, I don’t want to seem unreasonable here. You and your father have been very kind to me, but you have to admit there is more than a little weirdness going on around here.”

“A fair statement if I ever heard one, Sean. But I promise you there will be no more of that to worry about.”

Ashling stepped up against him and gently put her arms around his neck. With the two-inch heels she was wearing, and Sean in his bare feet, they were very nearly the same height. He felt mesmerized by her steady gaze and her tender touch. How could he have ever doubted her motives?

Without thinking about it, he put his arms around her waist and leaned in to kiss her gently on her soft, full lips. He felt her respond briefly by wrapping her arms tighter around him, as he pulled her into a tender embrace. It was only for a moment, but nothing had ever felt more wonderful and right.

Finally, she pulled back, although she kept her arms loosely around his neck. He looked into her soft, green eyes and saw the turmoil and sorrow there. “It’s going to be all right,” he said softly.

She sighed deeply and smiled sadly as she said, “Though you’re not going to remember any of this; I want you to know that it has been our great pleasure to make your acquaintance. We’ll not soon forget you.”

While he was struggling to understand her meaning, Sean felt a gentle pressure at the base of his neck. Ashling was saying something, but he could no longer hear her clearly. A sense of euphoria swept over him, from head to toe, and he collapsed against her. Even as his conscious thought was sweeping away, Sean had just enough time to marvel at the pleasant combination of softness and strength of the woman who held him in her arms. His last conscious thought was that he would never forget Ashling Cahir for as long as he lived.

Chapter Five

When I dream, I dream Of Ireland’s rolling hills

Of all its lovely, shimmery lakes and little babbling rills

O, Ireland! O, Ireland! We’re never far apart

For you and all your beauty fill my mind and touch my heart.

~ Old Irish Saying ~

He is standing on the highest point of the rolling, tree-lined hills that surround the breathtakingly beautiful, green valley below. Small, lush meadows, sprinkled with multi-colored wildflowers, break up the thick tree growth on the valley floor. The two sparkling blue lakes, which are centered in the valley, are the true stars of Mother Nature’s impressive show.

Despite his many travels, and the myriad wonders he has beheld, Sean is sure he has never been anywhere or beheld anything that could rival this stunning valley. There is more to it than just the dazzling beauty before him. He feels an almost spiritual essence emanating from the peaceful scene. The words “sacred ground” run through his mind, and this feels right.

At the far end of the valley, beyond the two lakes, is a group of stone buildings. At its center is a very tall circular stone tower with two small window openings very near the top. A church constructed of the same gray stone as the tower is nearby, with a small cemetery directly behind it. Several other buildings are laid out in loosely organized, close proximity, which is reminiscent of a long ago medieval European village. Without knowing how, Sean understands that this is a monastery—not a village.

A patchwork of grain fields lies to the east and north of the buildings, and a stone fence runs along the west side. This is obviously the monastery entrance, and he sees groups of men clad