Mary of Blarney

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Write the summary before the story?
What shall become of this tail,
The words in my head so frail.
I hear a story somewhere inside,
Now to only find where it hides.

Submitted: November 04, 2008

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Submitted: November 04, 2008



The wailing cries of a angry mother echoed over the fields, only to be snatched into the wind and tossed away as easily as a autum leaf.
Her face was pale as she alone stood on the walls, watching dust rise from the oncoming army. Only their cries and shouts the wind fled from, unwilling to touch even the breath of such bloody men.
From her hands dripped the blood of innocence, born early to her stepmother, the babe now lay sleeping in his mothers arms, shallow within the solid grasp of the earth.
The castle walls shook and vibrated beneath her feet as boulders were launched and imbedded into them. Trees cracked and groaned as they were burned and cut away to allow the oncoming machine to rumble over them.
If one moved away from thenorth wall to the opposite, and tried very hard to listen, they could hear the bells and the wailing of the druids as they cried in the forest, their sacrifice being burned to the spirits as they called upon the dark forces.
Her mind went blank when she considered who was their sacrifice, for the baby boy had not been born alone. The baby girl would never have lived past the morning. The end however,in which she came to, was one that had never been considered.
Mary, named for the mother of Jesus, wiped her bloody hands upon the walls.
"Your first victem of Blarney, my Lord Broghill" she whispered.
Light glinted up and flashed across her face and the rumbling became louder. Proudly the Irish daughter stood upon the top of the walls as the guns approached, the loud BOOM! and the smoke announced the first discharge. The outer wall exploded, debris flying out and up, another air shaking BOOM! and screams were heard within as part of the wall crumbled.
Mary moved up to stand on top of the castle wall, the wind pushed strongly at her, and to another the ten stories would have been dizzying, but she alone of the castle people was able to run along the walls without fear or fall. Now as a woman that strength held her as she watched the outer wall collapse and the army come pouring through.
A small mounted group stopped, well armed men guarding a single man in the middle, Mary's strong irish eyes glared down upon her hated foe, Lord Broghill lifted his hand in salute before he rushed forward to the castle doors.

When they finally had reached the top of the castle Mary was gone along with the entire army and treasureBroghill had originally come for.
When rumors started later of the army appearing in Cork, Broghill called it "magic of the devil" for there was no escape anywhere from Blarney castle.

Above the shimmering lake sat a cottage, made of stone and grass, it had sat there for many years. Some say no one lives there, some say a witch resided, while others said an angel lived within, guarding the lake.

Beneath Blarney castle was discovered tunnels that led to three different areas, searching through the deep ends it was discovered that this is where the army of Blarney had fled. Some of the tunnels had collapsed and Lord Broghill was unable to move his men through them to search for the treasure.

Years later, rocks groaned and crumbled beneath the working and driving of a man desperate for money, the young Earl of Clancarthy stepped into the sun to behold the magic of a diamond glimmering lake.
Above it sat a small cottage.

And that...
Is a tale for another day.

© Copyright 2018 Sameach. All rights reserved.

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