Date: 02-02-12
Poster: Conor Quinn
Post # 36
After
the Battle
"You're all damn funny." Eion grunted, trying to ignore the
pain without much success. He damn well hoped the Hennigan lads got the
sonov... "I can walk and Dairenn will likely fuss at me for getting
hurt first." Or Herself would. One step, two steps... he was more
then a bit woozy but he was damn well going to walk into the house.
"Make sure it's a lot of damn courage. Not a bit." Brady in
the meantime, called out to Conor's friends. "Help me get this one
into the shed. We'll talk to him after I'm sure Eion's all right. Then
come in and have a drink." Of several. That invitation was extended
to Lord Morgan.
KT lifted a hand in thanks for the offer, and everyone, including the
Hennigans, were eager to get the site cleared up so that they could take
Brady Quinn up on his offer. Whether he meant the auburn headed crew and
the lot of volunteers or not. But knowing Brady Quinn, and most of them
did, he would have emptied his store of potcheen and sent out for more
after a fight like tonight. Since Ro was the closest he came over and
helped Brady heft the Englishman's henchman, hauling the man with feet
dragging behind to that very shed. "I've got this Mister Quinn, you
go see to your nephew." And Callum sure did have 'this' even though
BillyO hurried over to hook a shoulder under the armpit of the limp man
to take over for Brady. "We promise not to have too much fun until
you get back, Brady, aye?" BillyO chuckled through his words,
offering a respectful nod to the laird of the Quinn clan. Phillip Morgan
would follow behind the 'two with prisoner' just to make sure things
remained copasetic in the meanwhile. Inside, Conor cleaned the kitchen
table with a quick collection of any odds or ends on it, then accepted
the quilt brought down by his aunt and, with a flourish, spread it
across the wide, flat surface. No comforts of cushion or mattress. This
was hard core, right at working level, able to strap down if needed,
close to water and towel access ... ready.
"You want me to take it out Bucko?" Segan flashed Eion a grin
from over his shoulder as he washed his hands up good. Next he cleaned
that very hunting knife that had taken a few lives and was over to
temper it in the flames of the cooking hearth where a pot of water
boiled as well. "Did they take care of that Scoundrel?"
Addressed to Conor being he was in after he was. The blade was turned
over to heat the other edge before removed from the flame and dipped
into a basin of cold water. It was now sterilized.
It was Brady who was last in, clapping a hand to Conor's shoulder.
"Conor's friends are seeing to him." And if they wanted to
start questioning, that was fine with him. Eion gritted his teeth, as
with David's help, he set on the table. The arrow had gone straight
through, with the head sticking out through Eion's shirt. "Aye, get
it out of there." He was bleeding already so what did it matter?
Accepting a bottle of potcheen from Brady, he took a long, loooong drink
from the bottle. Nothing like the pure to help matters. Then he handed
it off to Conor. "Pour it on." Might as well clean it all off.
Hopefully Sarah could salvage both quilt and table.
Conor nodded to Eion, taking the bottle. "All right then, Eion
Quinn. Lay you down on your good side. No reason to have you passing out
cold on us and falling onto the floor." The youngest helped the
eldest to get situated, leaning him back a bit so that they could strip
off the shirt, and cut the fabric from around the site. "Oooh, nice
looking." Conor actually physically cringed with the sight of that
barbed end protruding from Eion's muscle and flesh. He forced a swallow
and then took a deep breath. "Draw it in, Brothermine, because this
is going to burn like fuck." Before Eion could even respond, Conor
lowered his weight of hip to his brother's good arm stretched out on the
table, tossed back his own swallow and then ... poured.
After the shirt was removed, torn off being it was no long good anyway,
Segan got a hold of the shaft close to where it met bloody flesh.
"Grit your teeth hard, this is going to hurt you more than
me," trying to add humor but he was doing the deed of slicing off
the end that with the feathers et all attached. Once that was done, he
reached over to run the blade over the flames and before Eion could
react, he pulled the shaft the rest of the way through. Being it came
through clean, he didn't need to do any digging and so cauterized the
back opening with the tip of his blade. He was eying his brother the
while as he wiped the bloody blade off on the clean white towel left
there before running it through the flame again. "One more
time..." given in warning.
First he had to deal with the burn from the potcheen but that helped
numb it some. Even so, he cursed in Gaelic from the burning. Then came
the rest. "Nothing to bite on? Just wait, Segan... " He might
threaten and growl but Eion appreciated his brothers more then he could
tell them. The yell came out more a howl of pain, probably scaring the
bairns upstairs. The second? Eion didn't feel it. He was out cold.
Scaring the children and the women, hell, that response caused Conor to
flinch and grit his teeth. He shot a look from one sibling to the other
until Eion was silent. "Thank God." Conor wheezed, watching
Segan close things up now that Eion wouldn't feel a thing. "Maybe
we should have knocked him out to begin with." He looked toward the
door where a few of the Hennigan brothers stood, witnessing the scene.
"Bet we could have gotten volunteers."
"Aye," all the better as he first cleaned up the wound to make
sure there were no shards, none were found and soon the skin was seared
together and the bleeding to stop. "Aunt Sarah, if you have any of
the medicated salve." Which she was right there waiting as Segan
grinned taking it. Enough was applied before he was up and Auntie took
care of the rest bandaging both sides then wrapped around his chest and
up and around over his shoulder. "I think we would have been
insulting him if we knocked him right out to start." He as sure
Eion would deny the need. "He'll be like new in a couple of weeks
and hopefully home by then.." all the while he was cleaning off his
knife which was then slid into its sheathe that hung from his belt. A
chuckle came with a nod to the Hennigan lads, "you'll have to earn
it.." which was all fair.
Mutterings and chuckles were Segan's reply from the Hennigans, but when
they saw Eion was okay, they each turned and made their way out. No
doubt to report to their Pa. What was Pa Hennigan's name anyway? Conor
wasn't sure he had even ever known. Conor stood from where he held down
Eion's other arm and, with a tilt of head, studied his unconscious
brother. He was all wrapped up tighter and prettier than a Christmas
package. Conor offered Aunt Sarah a smile of thanks, then looked to
Segan while he cleaned off his weapon. "Help me get him somewhere
soft?"
Brady nodded his approval, then slipped outside to see what was
happening there. Some of the men who had been helping had taken away the
English dead and wounded and were tending to their own wounded. He
wasn't sure where Pa had gone but he'd be searching the man out soon
enough. Instead, he made his way toward the shed, just to have a look at
what was happening.
"Aye, you take the high road and I'll take the low road and
together we can get him onto the couch in the next room. Rather than put
him upstairs and have him bellowing for this or that once he is
awake." With a strong grip he had Eion's legs and ready to go as
Conor got the head and shoulders. He was also listening for any tidbits
on Hopwood, any of the wounded, and the cleanup going on outside.
Inside the shed, Hopwood had been perched on a crate, tied with his arms
behind him to the center mast of pole holding up the roof. Rohan was
close to his face, meeting the man's scowl, growled out words shared
between them. BillyO was off to the side, leaning to a stack of hay
bales with a foot braced on the side of Hopwood's crate. For all
appearances casual and calm, he was chewing on the end of a piece of
that straw. KT had collected a pitchfork, the prongs resting against the
wood planks of the floor, his arms crossed over the handle, his head
dipped slightly to the side resting on his shoulder, listening. As was
Phillip Morgan as he stood to the other side of Hopwood, a frown pulling
his brows tight. At first the man had refused to speak, but didn't
Callum have a special way of persuading someone to do what they didn't
initially think they even wanted to. This is what Brady would walk into.
As Brady stepped inside, he studied the scene before him and nodded.
Looked like the lads had it all under control. He stepped closer to
Morgan, lowering his voice as he spoke. "Have you learned
anything?" He was hoping his nephews would not have to face the
Englishman again. But if they would, so be it. Either way, the man would
answer for what he had done.
Once they had Eion on the couch, and Mary Ailish putting an afghan over
him, Segan started to retreat, "let me know when he wakes up."
One glance to Conor before he was back out into the kitchen then outside
heading for the shed. He earn the right to see what went down after
being accused and thrown in jail. He was quick to slip in and take up a
spot in the back with a stance that had arms folded and feet slightly
spread apart.
Phillip turned to Brady when the man spoke. "Indeed, Mister Quinn.
This man has been forthcoming in all manner of information. For one, it
was under the direct order of Lord Cunnyngham that they come here to do
bodily harm and property damage. There was to be no quarter given. You
had, after all, stood against him when he wished to purchase your lands
outright." Phillip didn't know Segan, but recognized the
resemblance to this Quinn and to Conor. He offered him a nod of
acknowledgement. "And more, he has worked directly with said Lord
for confiscating numerous properties, peacefully and with force when
necessary." Hopwood squirmed on his makeshift seat. "I won't
admit to saying that!" He barked out. Bravado. Alas. Callum had
straightened to listen to Phillip, but when Hopwood spoke, he turned his
head to settle his gaze back on their prisoner. His hand lifted and he
patted the man's cheek, with a bit more emphasis than necessary. "Shhhure
you will."
"Lord ... he didn't call himself when m'boys went to see him."
Well, now, wasn't that a surprise. Still the information given made him
nod and cast an eye toward Hopwood. "I'm thinkin' you'd be wise not
to cross these men." He liked Conor's friends! He nodded at Segan
then asked Lord Morgan another question. "So, what do we do with
this information?"
Segan gave a nod to those he realized where his brother's friends. A
knowing look with that slight dip of his head before blue eyes were on
Brady. "What shall we do with the Bloke, bury him where he'll never
be found?" If that were put to vote, Hopwood would be sure on his
demise if he wanted to continue down the road he was taking.
At the moment, in this situation, away from the gaming rooms and the
whore houses, Phillip Morgan was all business. His eyes widened a bit
with Segan's suggestion. "Goodness no, Captain Quinn." Since
he had learned Eion was the one that took the arrow, this had to be
Segan. And then to answer both, he indicated Hopwood with a cant of
head. "This man will return with me to England, where he will bear
witness to the deeds perpetrated by Lord Cunnyngham." Phillip
looked to Callum. "And he will bear witness." BillyO gave his
foot a shove and rattled Hopwood's seating arrangement, causing the man
to curse under his breath. Ro offered Lord Morgan a dip of head as
agreement. Phillip continued. "When Conor delivered your missive to
me, and I to his Majesty, we were in need of more than just a
landowner's concerns. After all, we all know that in Ireland, tempers
can run hot and the smallest issues are soon exploding with volcanic
intensity." Callum snorted out a comment under his breath. Lord
Morgan smiled slightly and turned his eyes to that particular Irishman.
"Did you have something to add, Mister Rohan? I may be born and
bred English, hold the titles of England, but I'm an Irishman at heart,
to be sure." "Aye, Lord Volcanic Intensity." Ro bowed at
the shoulders, chuckling under his breath. Phillip narrowed his gaze on
the man, but there was no hostility there, before looking back to Brady.
Back ... to business. "Excuse the interruption. As I was saying,
Conor suggested I come and see for myself. It was agreed. And I have
seen...and heard...and will now bring this all..." He made a
roundabout motion of hand toward Hopwood, including him with that 'this
all'. "...back to the King. I will also send my own men out to
collect Lord Cunnyngham, until a final decision can be made. You should
have no further disruption to your everyday lifestyles, unless of your
own making of course."
Brady listened, smiling at the interruptions but then he nodded. He was
glad to see this all come to an end. His nephews had been away from home
for far too long. "Then, we'll leave this all in your capable
hands. Eion is resting but I can offer you the hospitality of my
house." He was going to have a party, inviting everyone who had
helped, including the Hennigans, before the three left though. He knew
his wife and daughters would hate to see the lads leave. So would he.
That only had a swift wide grin, "aye, let the English take care of
him. There are things worse than death." And Hopwood would know how
the English tortured their own that stepped on any of the royal toes.
"I would like to be sharing a drink with you all." The glance
paused more on the trio that were Conor's friends. A friend of his
brother's was already a friend of his. They earned the celebration of
victory this day and of going home again.
"Aye!" KT agreed with a laugh, swinging the pitchfork around
and moving to hook it back to its nail. "Like English cuisine. Any
man that puts spotted dick in his mouth..." And he left it at that.
"Meet us in town, Captain." BillyO broke in, giving Segan a
two fingered salute off his temple. "We need to see this bit of
garbage back, but following, you and your brothers...and your
Uncle..." A twitched wink and nod for Brady. "...and a goodly
number of shots would make for the perfect ending to this venture."
Considering the number of dead and wounded, and that the majority of
them leaked English not Irish blood, it was a darn good night.
Brady let out a laugh, then inclined his head to Lord Morgan.
"You're always welcome here, and you three as well. Now, I'm going
to see to Eion, and to getting my ladies settled down." He wanted
to make sure everything was as cleaned up as possible and that might
while mean he'd be up the rest of the night. Who could sleep after all
this? Out the door he headed, first to the house, then to work.
"Aye, I'll be following you in. Got a ship to check in on and have
the crew make her ready." He was sure Conor would be going with him
and possibly Brady would see to brining Eion in if he woke up and
expressed the interest. Well, that is if he could get past Aunt Sarah in
convincing her. He needed to get his horse ready so with a nod he was
out the door in Brady's wake. He would catch up with Conor and check on
Eion before departing.
Conor remained with Eion, practically counting his breaths as he was
squatted by the couch, just staring at him. He didn't need to worry or
think about Hopwood, confident he was being well tended to. There was
another time, not under this roof, but under another Quinn roof, when
Eion lay wracked with fever, in and out of consciousness and his
youngest brother starred, with concern, unmoving. His mother had come
and gone, tending to the cold cloths, the tonics, the poultices to
hopefully bring the heated flesh to normal. And still yet, the youngest
... lingered. With concern. Unmoving. ---I'm sorry!---
Eion's eyes fluttered as if he felt that watch and finally opened.
Though blue eyes were dull with pain, they focused on the younger
brother. "Ah, that's no' th' face of a angel." Eion spoke as
if his tongue were swollen but he was smiling. "So I'm still alive.
What's happenin' now? Is there still fightin'?" Ugh. When did he
drink cotton?
At that very moment that Eion spoke up, coming back to life, Conor would
feel the clamp of a strong hand to his shoulder. "There is no
keeping a good Quinn down.." chuckling with the comment that came
from Eion. "Aye, it be so unless you had your angel here."
Meaning the man's wife. Something that almost happened to him but then
life decided otherwise through no fault on either. "We're going out
for a pint, want to come? Going to meet these men our brother has as
friends.." grinning the while but he was checking for signs of any
fever or the like. "Although you've had a bit o' the drink already
soaked into that wound."
"But his angel isn't here, only us, and he'll be right as rain
before she even gets a glimpse of him." Conor had looked up to
Segan when he felt that touch, but he couldn't help but bristle with the
mention of Eion's wife. All lovey dovey. Smoochey. Huggy. Dang, Segan.
Conor stood slowly, brushing off his thighs as he did, like the position
had added those blood stains and not the fight. "If you need help
to change, Eion..." Conor thumbed over a point to Segan. "He's
your man. I'll just be a few to make sure Uncle Brady has everything he
needs, and all is as it should be, then I'll join you."
He listened to them and chuckled, then squinted at Segan. "Aye, but
I'm going to need some help getting up until I figure out how to
maneuver." He paused though and looked from one brother to the
other. "If I haven't said so yet, I couldn't wish for better
brothers. Now get me up so we can get out of here before Aunt Sarah
catches us." No wound would keep a Quinn from drink, but an Aunt,
wife or Gram. Aye, those would!
He was the man to do it. "Well, first let's get you a shirt to
cover that all up now that the bleeding has stopped or one of those wool
sweaters." Which Aunt Sarah had brought a couple choices down that
had been set to a chair near the couch. He too would do a quick change
before they left for certainly blood stained was not in style, least not
at the better places. He had a feeling a better place would be the
choosing and just as well as he had enough of fighting and killing for
one night. So he would help his brother get on what he wanted to wear
before washing up and putting on clean clothes too.
It was Conor's turn to ease out to the shed, a few words shared with his
friends, thanks, promises, this that the other, and then he returned to
find Uncle Brady. Thanks. Promises. This that and the other. Then Conor
was up the stairs to rid himself of the grime, the blood, the foul
aftertaste of battle. A silent prayer lifted. Thanks. Promises This that
and the other.
A shirt and clean pants were what he needed. Sarah had seen to the
cleaning up even while Conor was there and damn if Eion wasn't stark
naked under those covers. He hoped that Sarah had chased her daughters
away, or at the least, Mary Ailish! Once he had those on, and while his
brothers were making themselves presentable, he sneaked out to the
kitchen to get his boots. Took a bit of a tussle, but he got them on.
And managed to steal a bit of bread to appease his belly.
Eion would find out soon enough if any comments were made. Eventually.
Certainly. They were Irish. All cleaned up, he was back down to an
awaiting Eion and Conor, "what are waiting for?" And hoping
Eion was really up for this but then ... he was Irish. Drinking was
involved. Good time with good friends and those yet to be made. He too
grabbed a few biscuits to appease until they got back for they could be
sure that Aunt Sarah would keep some warmed up for them. They could take
the buckboard in, much like how they had arrived and far easier on Eion
than trying to have him ride.
Conor pulled on a short, wool coat as he hurried down the stairs. No
denying his haste to be out and on their way. Irish guilt could weigh
heavy and if Aunt Sarah caught them dragging Eion out this close to
injury, they'd be catching a barrel of it too hefty to bear. He turned
as he passed the kitchen door, still on his way toward the front, and
jogged those last few steps backwards. "Biscuits later, boys...lets
go."
He trusted his brothers to see to getting him back home if it was too
much to handle. And expected the drinking to dull the pain of the wound.
Grinning at Conor and Segan, he grabbed for his cloak rather then a
coat. Be easier to get on. "Hurry. I think I hear Aunt Sarah coming
down stairs." They'd no sooner be in the wagon when they'd hear her
call out for Eion. And down the lane when she called out the door for
Brady. David had been left behind but they'd make it up another day. He
was laughing as he settled in the wagon. "Feels like when we were
kids, sneaking out."
No worries, David had his own succor...he was married...and had his wife
at 'hand'.
Too late, Segan was grinning around the biscuit shoved him his mouth. A
couple more in his pockets as he ushered Eion out with help. Help in a
way it would look none the wiser to his wound. David might get some hell
if he went out drinking with the boys! They were well on their way when
he offered over one of those flaky buttery biscuits to Conor.
"Can't have you go drinking on an empty stomach and passing out in
front of the Hennigan faction." He was sure they would find them
wherever they ended up.
Conor took the biscuit, looking down at it then over to Segan. He was ..
kidding...right? After all these voyages of heaving that left him empty
of all but his good intentions and then the drinking that followed on
that emptiness a biscuit....why the hell not. The youngest took the
short time needed to enjoy the taste and texture of one of their
family's best kept secrets. Their biscuits. It did feel good though, the
three of them, that adrenaline rush of having to make it out and away in
time. Not that they didn't have one hellova' tidal wave of adrenaline
just hours before, but maybe it was because of the lingering thrum of
battle, and the need for release, that spurred on this current state of
excitement. It did feel like they were youths again. And it felt good!
Conor let out a 'Whooop' into the night air, the sound echoing
around them.
Eion was just glad to be alive after the events of the day. What a tale
they'd have to tell. "You know, Conor, we haven't heard what you
thought of the English court or London. You'll have to tell us when
we're on our way home. At least, when you're not heaving your guts out
over the side of the ship." He looked at Segan and grinned.
"Then we can re-live our adventures here for you." He wasn't
worried about seeing the Hennigans tonight. If there was any fighting,
Eion was well out of it. And any English skulking around would find
themselves in trouble right quick.
After Conor let out his whoop, he let out a battle cry that almost
harmonized in a way. It felt good but it also felt better that they
would be getting back home finally and what a story they had to tell.
"Aye, we can swap stories, embellish some too if you want."
Which in this case, they didn't need to! It wasn't long until they
reached the Winding Down Inn and Pub just on the outskirts of the
harbor. A place that didn't get any-and-all that spilled out from the
guts of the never ending ships that sailed in and out. "I have a
feeling these friends of yours will be interesting to meet and perhaps
they will share how they caught up with you." Reining in the horses
before he was down leaving them in the care of one of the lads that took
care of such for a coin. He slapped his hands together.
"Ready?" with a slight upnod of his chin towards the closed
door. It looked like the place was closed but they knew it was not, just
selective as to whom they let in after hours. It was late at this point.
Conor swatted at the crumbs, what few there were and gave a quick nod of
head to Segan. Afraid his brother might be disappointed with the whole
meet up and hang story. With the brothers gone on to find their lives,
and Conor's life deep in leather and work, what time he could find, he
found himself in the pubs. And so were the three. Each for their own
reasons. History from there was set in stone. "I'll get the first
round." He laughed, intent on that entrance.
Any story would be interesting. It was a part of what they didn't know
about Conor's life once they had left. He managed to get down from the
wagon on his own, refusing help if offered. Pausing to catch his breath,
he also made sure he had his pouch of coins yet. "Then I'll get the
second." It was going to be a long night, probably a longer day
tomorrow when the painkiller wore off. They likely wouldn't remember
half of what happened. Only that it had been worth every drop drank.
Segan took up the rear to make sure Eion got in all right. Place was
full too and a lot of them were the Red Top Hennigan clan. The night was
going to prove interesting as history is rewritten.
-e- |