With a shriek Maeve arose to cradle her mother's lifeless body. "You Protestant devil," she screamed at him. "How could you? I shall tell our Da what you have done, William Devers! I hope he kills you himself!" Sobbing she held Molly's body against her chest.
His face expressionless William raised his pistol once again and shot his half-sister through her head. Maeve's body jerked once, and then she fell over her mother's still form. Then his icy eyes turned to Aine who cowered in the corner near the fireplace. An unholy light lit William's face. Reaching out he pulled Aine up. "Now here's a pretty little wench, and every bit the whore her mother was, I'll wager. Let's take her upstairs, and have her entertain us. You'd like that, wouldn't you, wench?" Reaching out William ripped Aine's bodice open, and fondled her little breasts.
The girl looked at him with shocked blue eyes. "You're my brother," she said weakly. She was shaking all over.
William slapped Aine hard, and she cried out surprised. "You cannot claim kinship with me, wench. You're a common whore's brat, and, now, up the stairs with you! You'll ply your mother's trade this night before I kill you. What's one more dead Catholic bitch more or less. By morning Lisnaskea will be free of your kind." He dragged Aine from the parlor, turning to invite his companions along. "Come on, lads. She looks like a tasty morsel, and we'll all have at her."
Not all the men followed William. Most drifted from Molly Fitzgerald's house silently, not even daring to look at her body and that of young Maeve as they went. They had only wanted Lisnaskea to to be a wholly Protestant town. They hadn't wanted murder, and rape. Yet in the hour since Reverend Dundas had exorted them to follow William Devers, and cleanse Lisnaskea of the Catholics, they had seen death too many times to be able to cry their innocence any longer. They felt guilty, and their guilt made them only angrier at their Catholic neighbors. Then they heard a terrible screaming, peal after peal of pure terror crying out from the upper floor of Molly Fitzgerald's house. They heard unholy laughter, and the shouts of encouragement from those who had remained behind to violate the young girl. Many had daughters Aine's age. The men hurried off into the darkness to escape the sound.
Then a young lad ran from out of the darkness shouting, "The dirty Papists have fired the church, and locked Reverend Dundas and his family inside. Our women can't get the doors open!"
"Go on," Robert Morgan told his companions. "I'll fetch Master William, and the others."
And then Molly Fitzgerald's house was silent again. The door, hanging from its hinges, swung open. From her hiding place old Biddy crept forth, tears streaming down her worn face. Her old legs shaking she climbed the stairs, and sought Aine. She found the young girl, stripped naked, and spread open on her mother's bed. Her throat had been cut from ear to ear. Her blue eyes were open, and filled with utter terror. Her sweet little face was already showing signs of bruising, and her milky thighs were smeared with blood, evidence of her violation. Biddy gently closed Aine's sightless eyes, and drew a coverlet over her although she was certainly past all modesty now.
The old servant wiped her eyes once more with her apron, and then a look of grim determination crossed her face. Looking down on young Aine, whom she had helped to birth, Biddy crossed herself and said a prayer. Then she descended the elegant small staircase of the house, reentering the parlor. She prayed again over the bodies of her mistress and Maeve. Then she departed the house through the rear entry and went to the stables. Biddy was deathly afraid of horses, but she bravely saddled Aine's fat pony, heaving her wiry frame into the saddle and riding off, away from the town, and into the darkness.
She knew the way for she had spent her entire life in this region. She was not of Lisnaskea, but a Maguire's Ford woman. Slowly, carefully, she guided the pony as it picked its way through the darkness on the rocky path toward safety. The night was only just beginning to give way to the day when she finally made her way into the village of Maguire's Ford, and across the small drawbridge of Erne Rock Castle. She practically fell into the arms of the young gatekeeper.
"Fetch the Maguire," she wheezed at him, shaking the lad off. "I can stand. Get the Maguire! 'There's murder about!"
Rory Maguire came from his gatehouse, half-dressed, but struck by the gatekeeper's urgency. He recognized Biddy immediately.
She didn't wait for him to ask. "There's murder at Lisnaskea! My lord himself was with us last evening when it began. I don't know where he is now. William Devers shot my mistress, and young Maeve. They are dead. What he did to our wee Aine I am too ashamed to say. She is dead now too, for which I thank a merciful God."
"So it's finally come," Rory Maguire said, almost to himself. Then he took the old woman by the arm. "Come into the hall, Biddy. I must fetch the duke and his wife. You must tell them what happened."
"And what will they do, these Protestants, to avenge my poor mistress and her daughters?" Biddy demanded angrily. " 'Twas their kind who killed them, and God knows how many others in Lisnaskea!"
"Nay," he told her quietly as he led her into the castle. "Not all Protestants, like Catholics, are the same, Biddy. That is why I have been able to remain here all these years with our own folk. That is why Maguire's Ford is a place of peace. Lady Jasmine is a good woman who holds no prejudice against any faith. I will admit that in that she is rare, but it is she who possesses Maguire's Ford, and her will has ruled us peacefully for a long time. Remember, her own dear daughter, born here in this castle, is wed to Kieran Devers. She knew your mistress, and her children. She will be horrified by your tale."
They were in the hall now, and Rory sent a servant for the duchess and her husband. They came almost immediately, James Leslie helping his wife who was now very full with their child.
"What has happened?" Jasmine asked, sitting heavily.
"This is Biddy, Molly Fitzgerald's serving woman," Rory said. "I'll let her tell you her tale, my lady, but be warned. 'Tis a terrible one."
The Leslies listened with growing horror as the old lady spoke of the terror, the violence, the murder, and the rape that had occurred the previous evening in Lisnaskea. "I am ashamed that I hid, that I could not aid my mistress and those two sweet lasses I helped to raise," Biddy wept as she came to the end of her tale, "but I knew that someone had to remain alive to tell the world of William Devers's perfidy."
"You did exactly the right thing," Jasmine said, rising to embrace Biddy. "Without you we would never have known, but I am concerned for Sir Shane. You say he left the house when he heard the uproar begin, and you saw him not again? What could have happened to him?"
"He has probably been murdered by the English bitch's offspring," Kieran Devers said coming into the hall, for the same servant who had gone to fetch the Leslies had gone to find their son-in-law as well.
"Surely not!" Jasmine cried.
"William was never particularly patient when he wanted something badly," Kieran said. "If he would kill poor Molly, and our half-sisters, why not our father? My stepmother has now gotten almost everything she ever wanted. What use has she for Da now? She has his home, and his lands. The girls are gone. She has managed to drive me off, and married her son to the girl she wanted for a daughter-in-law. I'm quite certain it is she behind this trouble in Lisnaskea, but I want to know what happened to my father before I kill William Devers."
"There will be nae further killing," James Leslie said sternly "I'll nae hae Fortune the wife of a convicted felon, and convicted and hanged ye'll be, Kieran, if you kill yer brother, no matter what he's done."