A Penny's Worth Of Diamonds.

The Castle at the end of the Bridge

As a warning, this part of the story contains loss of a life.

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Faolan's father had moved out of the castle about two years ago. He said it was tradition to let Faolan take over the running of the castle and all the responsibility associated with it. In the years I had come to stay in the castle I realised three things:

1. I was definitely not on Earth. This realm was a different kind of Earth. I was somewhere in Scotland but not quite the same. The lifestyle was different and they didn't call the planet Earth. They called it something that started with a 'T' that try as I might, I couldn't pronounce. 

2. It bore similarities to medieval times. They had no cars. The means of transport was horse-drawn carriages.

3. Faolan's family were rich. Heck, Faolan's father was some sort of chief before he passed the title on to his son. However, they lived a simple life of kilts and homemade food. Hardly ever going out.

I was sat on our bed. The doctor had ordered me to remain on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.

Two months to go.

It was the country's first successor, Faolan's first child and his father's first grandson. Everyone kept a close watch except the rest of the country. They only relied on hearsay. I had reduced to passing the time by reading books. The book I read at the moment was a lucky find as I had read all the books in the library out of sheer boredom.

Movement by the window caught my eye and I looked up to see a black bird perched on the window sill, looking away like all birds did, twitching its tiny head this way and that. It looked like a crow but I wasn't a 100% certain. Having lived in this realm for so long, I felt the tiniest lick of fear deep inside me. Black birds were meant to be a bad sign. But I was not one for superstition. I never really believed them same way I didn't believe in mermaids and the like. Faolan had warned me to be wary of three birds. The crow, a sign of death. A red bird, comes in angry situations to create chaos. A yellow nightingale (understand why I don't believe the stories?), a sign of good luck and the white bird, no-one knew what it meant except good things happened when it flew by.

"Come on now, shoo. Get out of here" I tried asking the crow to scram despite my disbelief in the stories.

I was about to try again, possibly get up to physically shoo it away when I was hit with a sudden shooting pain radiating from my swollen belly. A scream erupted from me from the pain. Faolan run in, tailed by the doctor and midwife. I could already feel my baby starting to crown amidst the frantic cries of everyone in the room to stop.

I couldn't.

The pain and urge to push was indescribable.

When it was finally over, I stretched out my hand quickly to grab my baby. My silent child. Wrecked couldn't begin to describe the gaping hole I could suddenly feel throbbing in my chest.

Devastated, I just cradled him, rocking back and forth, my eyes unseeing and unfocused, afraid to make a sound lest I break.

They shooed the bird, and finally, satisfied in dealing us this cruel hand, flew away.

I named him Alexander.

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I was happy. My oldest, Caitlin, a beautiful sixteen year-old, hair as black as mine but surprisingly straight. I'd been blessed with two boys, the oldest nine while the youngest was seven years-old. Again, I had one on the way. It'd already been five months. Faolan's mother had come to live with us and she soon became like my own mother here in the castle.