Myth
Desmond O’Gill and Ronan Darby entered the Typhoon Tavern after working on Mister Jacobs’ fishing rig all day. Ronan’s sister, Seanna, came to serve them. She always paid them special attention, and not just because Ronan was her brother.
“Ale.” Desmond requested. Seanna nodded her head and turned expectantly to Ronan.
“Nothing, thank you.” Ronan said with embarrassment. His family depended on him to bring home money; he couldn’t afford to spend any of it drinking.
Desmond had no such inhibition, ‘live for today’ was his motto and he followed it religiously. Whenever a challenge presented itself his dark eyes suddenly acquired an insane gleam, his untamable black hair would grow even wilder and his mouth automatically formed a dangerous grin. His list of adventures included jumping from an impossibly high peak into Old Kearney’s very shallow pond (he broke several bones in the process), tying himself to the grave of a suspected witch and staying there for a night and defeating-just barely-a full grown bull in a fight without weapons.
Once, when he was sixteen he swam in waters where sharks were known to live; his friend Evan produced a small dagger and volunteered to supply a little blood to lure a few in. At that point Ronan stepped in and commanded in a deadly quiet voice “Desmond, get out of the water, Evan, put the knife away.” Desmond immediately did as he was told, but Evan looked a trifle rebellious.
“Oh, come on Ronan” He pouted “Desmond agreed to swim with a shark, all I’m doing is making sure that a shark gets here, that’s all.” A few other boys that had come to watch murmured their agreement.
Ronan stepped in close to Evan and glared at him. “And what were you going to do when the shark got here?” He asked. Evan didn’t seem to have an answer, and Ronan didn’t wait for him to reply; he gave Desmond a stern look and the two of them walked away.
“Do you know what your problem is?” Desmond asked as he stretched lazily on his barstool.
“I don’t suppose I could prevent you from telling me.” Ronan replied with a dramatic sigh.
“Your problem is that you’re too responsible.” Desmond accused. “I know that you have enough money in your purse to feed all of you siblings, your parents and your grandmother as well and still have some left over for a drink. You caught a lot of fish today and ale is cheap here. Why don’t you enjoy yourself?”
“Because I may not be so lucky tomorrow.” Ronan answered softly.
“True, but don’t expect me to be as thrifty with my money, I feel obligated to buy something here.” Desmond raised his voice so that the nearby serving maid could hear. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t have an excuse to stop here everyday to watch your sister.”
Automatically Seanna turned and gave Desmond a smile that seemed to light her whole face; her pale blue eyes shined like a beacon. “Teasing me won’t make the ale come any faster Desmond;” She laughed “if I didn’t know better I’d say that you had already been into someone else’s liquor barrel.”
“Not so lady!” Desmond protested “I would never go anywhere else for my ale, there’s no better brew and no prettier serving maid to be found in this village; I’m merely drunk with joy from being in your presence.” With that he stood and bowed flamboyantly.
Seanna curtsied back and loudly declared so everyone could hear “I would never work anywhere else, for there are no better liars with flattering tongues to be found in the country.”
“A toast to the skilled flatterers of this tavern!” A mostly sober old man proclaimed.
“To the flatterers!” The tavern patrons echoed. Seanna laughed cheerfully and with a swish of her wavy blonde hair she continued with her job.
Desmond drank and Ronan kept him company. They talked and laughed for a while until it was time to journey home. Seanna took Desmonds’ arm and joined them. Laughing and teasing they made their way to the forest’s edge. Ronan felt slightly left out, he seemed to have lost a sister and friend in one stroke. Since the two had become so close they had no time for anyone else, it was amusing at first, but enough was enough. Seanna laughed and Ronan immediately regretted his selfishness. He had never seen either of them so happy and he had the satisfaction of knowing that he helped them both come together. When they reached the Darby cottage Seanna smiled and dissapeared inside.
Ronan was about to follow her when Desmond tapped his arm. “May I have a word with you?” He requested without his usual jovility.
“Of course” Ronan answered “I’ll walk part of the way to your home with you. What can I do for you?”
“I don’t know if you realize this or not,” Desmond began “but I’m very fond of your sister. Before things go any further I’d like to know if I have your approval.”
Ronan started laughing uncontrollably “Did you think that I didn’t know?” He demanded. “You’ve been tripping over yourself on her account for the past two years, now you’re acting like this is news!”
Desmond looked hurt “Well,” he said sheepishly “You probably had a vauge idea.”
“A vauge idea!” Ronan exclaimed “It’s impossible not to know. All a person has to do is look at you to see that you think the world of her.”
“She’s a fair lady if there ever was one.” Desmond commented softly. This was strange behavior for him, he was not a sentimental man. He infinitely preferred action to words, but there was something different about him when he was thinking about Seanna. He feared her more than he ever feared his stunts, and like his daredevil behavior, he never seemed to get enough to be satisfied. “So,” he continued “is it alright with you if I um...um... start taking Seanna out and that sort of thing? I promise I’ll be respectful and courteous, and I won’t let anything happen to her while she’s with me and I’ll...”
Ronan interrupted “There’s no one I’d prefer to court my sister.”
Desmond grinned happily and trotted home like a dog who had just been given a bone. Ronan laughed and entered the house.
When he strode into his home his family had already finished supper and his sisters were clearing off the remains. “Hello Ronan,” his mother, Mistress Mac Brian, greeted him “did you have any luck fishing today?”
“Yes actually” he replied “this is the most I’ve made all month.” He showed her the money he had traded the fish for then presented it to his father. At first his father was too absorbed in carving a small wooden lute, but after a moment he realized what was going on and suddenly looked up.
“Good work” Master Mac Brian acknowledged as he accepted it, then he promptly returned to his carving.
“We saved this for you.” Devnet, Ronan’s his younger sister, said pointing to a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread.
“Thank you.” Ronan replied sitting down to eat.
“We waited for you,” Seanna, his older sister, informed him “but you came home so late we ate without you.”
“I’m sorry,” Ronan explained “I lost track of the time somehow.”
“You haven’t been dawdling at the beach after dark have you?” Ronan’s grandmother, Mistress O’Tule, inquired sharply as she looked up from stirring her batter.
“Yes,” he answered “I did stop at the beach.”
“Tempting the faerie people you are.” Mistress O’Tule warned, pointing a dough-encrusted finger at Ronan. “Those who are found alone at night come to a bad end. Faeries use the likes of us for jest; you wouldn’t be the first driven mad or taken prisoner for their amusement.”
“Grandmother,” Ronan said persuasively “there’s nothing for you to worry about. The greatest danger I face after dark is wild animals, not magical creatures.”
Just then Ronan’s older brother Caedmon entered the kitchen. “What‘s this I hear about magical creature?” He asked as he deftly pilfered half of Ronan’s bread. He then picked up little Devnet, and spun her around yelling “The Faeries are coming to get you, run little girl!”
Devnet squealed with all the glee that her little eight-year-old body could muster (which is a considerable amount.) She struggled free of Caedmon’s grasp and ran through the cottage screaming “Come catch me.”
“Don’t make sport!” Grandmother commanded. “There’s nothing they love more than convincing nonbelievers that they are very real indeed.” With that she chuckled “Oh yes, very real.”
Ronan and Caedmon exchanged worried glances. Grandmother had become a little senile as the years passed. She forgot simple things, called her grandsons Conner, (her dead husband’s name) and muttered to herself; but she was lucid enough to help run the house. The villagers and her family still respected her because she had always been a light-hearted, compassionate woman.
“I saw that.” Grandmother accused. “ I know, don’t listen to the crazy old lady, she’s half-barmy anyways, right? But I’m telling you the truth!” She insisted. “I’m telling you what I’ve seen with my own eyes. I saw a banshee the day Conner left me, terrible screaming woman she was. Her long hair and jagged voice frightened me so much I’m sure I’ll never forget it.”
“You were very weary that night, remember grandmother?” Ronan pointed out.
“I know what I saw.” Grandmother said stubbornly “you could say what you like about the banshees, but you can’t deny that there are kelpies.”
“Why can’t we deny that there are kelpies?” Devnet piped in eagerly.
“Because I’ve not only seen them,” Grandmother whispered “I’ve danced with the kelpie maids.”
Caedmon and Ronan would’ve laughed if she hadn’t said it so solemnly. An uncomfortable hush fell over the house; Master Mac Brian put down his carving to listen as his wife suddenly stopped knitting. For a moment no one broke the silence until Seanna quietly noted “You told us once of a maid that danced with the kelpies.” She began slowly. “You said that after dancing one night with them she woke the next morning and time had moved forward without her. Everyone she knew had grown old and died, one hundred years had passed in what she thought was only one night, and she hadn’t aged more than a day.”
“Yes dear,” Mistress O’Tule agreed “but that’s a different story, the kelpies were far kinder to me; though they were still cruel in the end. I was a young lass of only seventeen years; like all of you I didn’t believe in the faerie people.”
“I thought you had always believed in them.” Seanna commented.
“No girl,” her grandmother continued “I didn’t believe in them any more than I believed the sun would rise in the West. Because of that I wasn’t afraid to take long walks by the beach after dark like Ronan does now. It was late one night, long after my mother had instructed me to be home. The moon shone brightly on the shore and the water reflected the light like a mirror. Because the night wasn’t dark I dared to stay out for some time thinking of silly girlish nonsense. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice the seals at first. There was so many of them, dancing and playing, I had never seen them in such great numbers.”
“Isn’t it about time you were in bed Devnet?” Mistress Mac Brian interrupted quickly. She loved her mother very much and it hurt her immeasurably to see her growing old and a bit...odd. She didn’t want her to tell wild stories while she wasn’t in her right mind; it made the family very uncomfortable. If Grandmother were still thinking logically she would have agreed.
“No,” Devnet said defiantly “I’m not tired and I haven’t finished cleaning up the mess from supper yet.”
“Then I suggest you hurry with your chore girl, you’ll need your rest for tomorrow.” Mistress Mac Brian threatened. “They’ll be plenty of things for you to do if you’re having trouble finding something to occupy your time right now.” Devnet understood and quickly cleared off the rest of the dishes left on the table.
Though she was nine she was still treated like a much smaller child since she was the youngest. Caedmon was already a man of one and twenty, but he lived with his parents’ still to help support them. He joked that he refused to move out of the cottage until his mother promised to bring him his meals each day “why should I build my own home?” He always said “I would gain nothing from that except for a lot of burn food.” Food was indeed his passion; he was continuously stuffing his face. Yet he worked so hard on his father’s farm that he was always hungry. He was a simple sort of man; he worked, ate, slept, breathed, laughed and was content the way he was.
Seanna became nineteen last springs, by the standards of the village she was considered to be on the brink of becoming an old maid. She was still, however, a very determined flirt