Chapter 33

The pair sit in silence for some time, in the depths of the house a bell put in specially for young Linton jangles until it would drive one to lunacy.

Keela sighs "Joseph be up at the church, shall I go in to 'im?"

Her husband sighs "'E's terrfied of ye…go up to him then, might frighten 'im out o' the habit."

She giggles and quits the chamber he listens to the familiar tread of her boots on the stairwell, and considers, there are secrets he is keeping…plans and schemes he has shared with no other soul…is it time?

For weeks now Linton has been writing to his cousin Catherine…and so far all is hidden from Edgar…Ellen Dean must know, of that he is certain, she was born the night her mother was torn from the world….and by all accounts is now an enchanting lass of thirteen.

The time to move would be now…can he tell his wife? Should he tell her? Would she prove help or hinderance?

Would she betray his plans to Edgar and thus bring them all down in flames?

She has an unnatural and un-befitting tolerance for the fool.

The deed is almost done…if only there were some seemly way to have her safely out of the way until the matter was quite resolved, to his satisfaction…

His son shall be wed to his cousin and no power on heaven and earth will prevent it.

Least of all Keela.

And to think the man that carries the letters between the young lovers was once the dairy lad who bore the same between himself and the lass who would be his bride.

He cannot keep such from her…they swore once that they would have no such thing as secrets…for they were as one soul in both manner and aspect, what need has such as they for so foolish a notion.

They were one and the same and each knew well the darkness of the other.

Until today…she had offered not a word of the acts she took against the settlers in her land…true, he had never asked her but…he recalls only too well the horrors of war.

He struggles to keep the memories at bay, the wicked imagingings of what she has done…of what she may have caused….if he thinks on it how is he to consider her?

His sweet, loving, good wife…the war band leader who burned innocent people alive in their beds…and sang her rebel songs as they screamed their way to hell in the smoke and the amber.

He starts as she appears in the doorway, her hair glittering like fire…he can almost smell the acrid scent of smoke and the copper of fresh spilled blood…the stench of mortal flesh wreathed in flame…

Her smile that seemed so tender and kind…now seems to him wolfish and cruel…the enchanting eyes kissed by madness...

"Keela." His voice is gentle.

She sinks into the chair opposite, "Aye?"

"Did ye truly murder all those people?"

She nods and he hates the way her smile widens as she does so.

"They were enemies, invaders. Heathcliff me love, if a band o' blackguards burst in here and threatened all o' us, would ye not put 'em down like rabid dogs?"

He nods…"But this is not the same…ye took no care to check if…"

He eyes blaze then, full of saint like fire…the burning of a zealot that can hear no reason.

"If someone invaded yer home and threatened yer family ye would kill 'em, ye said so yerself. There be no difference."

He is on his feet then, and she rises to meet him.

"Ye cannot weigh one against the other…Keela, what does yer own faith say about murder? Tell me, I know ye can."

Joseph's voice echoes from the hallway "Thou shalt do no murder."

His tone is hollow, his aged face white and stark "Mas'er I would speak a word wi' missi."

Heathcliff shakes his head "No ye fool say whatever ye have a mind to."

The old man mutely holds out his hand…a sheet of parchment lies there…a heavy red seal shining like a ruby in the light… "A man o' yer cloth gave it me, bid me give it t' ye." The parchment passes between aged hands to hers…

Crossed keys….

Keela moves and closes her fingers on it, Joseph fetches her a knife and Keela cuts away the seal, taking great care to preserve it.

Heathcliff's curiosity overcomes him, "What is it?"

She glances up, "It be from his Holiness."

He laughs at that "Ye got a letter from the Pope? Christ, what else have ye not told me to merit such honour?"

She shoots him a dirty look and holds it out to Joseph, "Would ye?"

He takes it and stumbling a little with the unfamiliar words reads it…vitandus…whatever that means….oh the priest bid Joseph tell her, that the bells of the cathedral in Dublin have been rung…

She pales so swift, they neither one have time to catch her as she collapses.

Hareton hurries in with water and a cloth at Joseph's call, and they press it to her face and throat.

Her eyes flutter open, she leans to the fireplace and they draw back as she retches into the flames.

Once and then again until there be nothing but bile.

She snatches the cloth and wipes her mouth.

Turning back to them, she is struggling to breathe, she holds out her hand and Heathcliff bends to help her to her feet, she leans against him, his arms about her waist are all that keep her standing, she gestures weakly to the chair and he lowers her into it, she takes the parchment from the servant's hands, and runs her eyes over it…and then she howls like a wounded beast and pitches to the floor, writhing and howling as though she were in mortal agony.

Nothing they can say will calm her, at last Heathcliff bids Hareton fetch Doctor Kenneth and be quick about it.

It would seem reason has deserted her and why he cannot say.

He strokes her hair gently and whispers to her, soft and loving…it brings no change…he cannot bear to look into her eyes, she is white and cold as death, he brings his coat and lays it over her, Zilla enters shaking her head and cleanses the hearth and rekindles the fire, he draws Keela nearer, she is keening a high, horrible sound….oh how he wishes she would cease that dreadful noise…it is worse than Linton, at least that is mostly for pity's sake.

After what seems an eternity, the doctor arrives in a flurry, he drops his bag to the flagstones and kneels beside the girl, who has resorted to striking her forhead upon the stones…if she will not stop he will have no choice but to restrain her to prevent further injury to her own good self…

The word good produces a paroxysm of rage and tears…she flies for his face, fingers like claws

"Good? I'm the very devil ye foolish man! An' ye were stupid enough to save me worthless life! Oh why could ye not 'av let me die? Why…why…"

Kenneth glances up at Heathcliff, eyes wide with shock, he falls into his most soothing tone

"Mrs Heathcliff, you must try to be calm…"

He looks about "What could have brought on such a fit?"

Joseph takes up the offending letter and holds it out…The doctor shakes his head, it means nothing to him…is it perhaps a will? A letter of ill news?

The aged servant sighs and begs that they might send for Magistrate Linton, he has a knowledge of Latin and may be able to explain…

Very well.

He comes in all haste when Hareton arrives at his door, eyes wet with tears and begs him come at once, Keela seems possessed since the arrival of a damned letter that none of them can read…

Edgar follows in his foosteps at swift as ever he can go…God, he can hear her haunting cries from beyond the doorstones, he removes his hat and follows the sound to an upper chamber…

The girl lies upon the bed, hands and feet lashed to the posts…

"Good God, Doctor…is this necessery? Show me the…"

The parchment is handed over, Edgar raises a hand to cover his mouth in shock…his eyes fill with tears of pity…

"It is a bull of excommunication….for the murder of many souls…commited without the sanction nor grace of the mother church. The pope cannot and will not condemn such action and so Keela MacBride is cut off from the grace of God and has placed herself beyond the bounds his mercy…"

The men all glance at each other, Edgar sighs at the ignorance of peasants

"You might say she has been dismissed from the Catholic faith. If she dies unrepentant she will go to hell….I confess myself surprised…this is so rarely administered….only for the most blasphemous of sinners…"

Keela's cry brings him back to himself "Forgive me…it is…"

Heathcliff rounds on him "They're punishing her? For…"

Edgar sighs "For the burnings, yes. It was done without ecclesiastical approval….the church never asked her to do such a thing."

The lascar moves to sit beside his wife's head….he cannot guess if she knows that he is there, she lies murmering over and over like a woman out of her senses, her eyes dreamy, fixed on the sun beyond the lattice.

He turns flashing black eyes on the doctor "What did ye give her?"

The man fumbles in his bag and holds up a bottle, "It would put down a horse…I had no choice…she was liable to do herself some harm! You must watch her at every moment, do you understand? Keela!" he bends down to her, his face sterner than any recall his counternance.

"Keela, if you die you will go straight to hell, do you understand? So it would be foolishness to think on it, is despair not a sin? Come on woman! Pull yourself together."

The rebuke does no good that they can see.

Heathcliff sees the doctor to the door, he offers a sad smile "Your wife has lost her wits Mr Heathcliff, I can see little hope for her recovery. Unless the church can be persuaded to forgive her."

The gypsy looks down at him "Would they?"

Kenneth shrugs "I know very little of that way, but I tell you as a man of medecine that I think rather it is the knowledge of what she has done that is the true cause of her illness. She was always wild…but never cruel."

Heathcliff nods "She swears that war is different. She thinks I could not understand."

The doctor sighs and shakes his head "She sees herself as a crusador, I think, a willing martyr chasing sainthood. Such a woman will not live long, she will find a way to run towords death. Tell her that such behavior is the sin of pride, she may listen to that."

The lascar nods, "I will try. Doctor…I cannot lose her."

The man sighs "Then take her home, let her have her damned war."

The gypsy grows pale "The church will never forgive her. If she were to…"

"Know you how many she has killed?" the doctor's question is boldly put.

Heathcliff shakes his head "She told me nothing of it. I had no knowledge of what she had done."

Kenneth replaces his hat and pins his cloak about his shoulders "strange that she should make no mention of something which brings her pride, is it not? Especially to yourself."

"Ye think she was hiding it?"

The doctor nods "Tell me, truthfully now, do ye still love yer wife?"

"Of course." There is not even a moment to his answer.

Kenneth smiles "Then yer a better man than I wagered. I know not if I could love Martha had she done as yer Keela has. An' she knows it."

Heathcliff sighs "There is no proof she killed anyone."

Kenneth drops his bag torn between shock and rage "They say she ordered the doors nailed up! Ye could 'ear 'em beggin' fer their lives! An' she laughed! An' sang an' all but danced, she fired the first o' the cottages 'erself Mr Heathcliff. These were innocent people! They were not soldiers! They bore no arms!"

"I love her still." Is the cold reply.

The doctor raises his hands "Then yer either a saint or a devil."

He returns to her side, she has grown quiet and lies still as death, silent tears falling upon her cheeks.

Heathcliff move to unbind her, and helps her to sit, he brushes the hair from her face, she is trembling, he moves to embrace her, she pushes him from her, weak yet defiant

"Heathcliff…if I asks ye fer somethin' will ye do it, an' ask me no questions?"

He starts "Why?"

"Bring Daniel Corder." Her voice is hard as iron, she will counternance no refusal.

He can find no way to understand "Why? Do ye wish to kill him?"

She smiles then, too bright "Aye my pet. That's it, I wish to kill 'im, so ye'll bring him to me won't ye?"

She is too sweet…too compliant…she is lying.

"Keela." His voice holds a warning note.

She rises from the bed "Fine, I'll find him meself."

He moves to stand in her way "What are ye doing?"

"Atonin'." Her mouth is a hard line, her eyes ferocious in the guttering light. "I will hand meself to Corder, an' English justice. I'm a murderer me love, without hope o' forgiveness…I cannot repent…That's why he came fer me in the first place…I…I did a great evil that day….God has turned 'is face from me…as 'e should. Nell were right. I love ye with all me heart, but I's taken innocent lives, what right have I now to me own?"

He catches her by the shoulders then and shakes her until her teeth rattle like bones in the bag of a fortune-teller.

"Getting yerself hanged won't bring them back! It won't change what ye did! It were wicked, it were vicious and ye'll be prayin' fer forgivness 'til yer old an' grey but Keela, half the damn Bible was written by murderers! He means to kill yer people! Give 'im what 'e wants and yer signin' yer country's death warrant! Yer revolution's at hand and yer thinkin' o' crawlin' like a coward to yer own worst enemy cos ye lost yer nerve? I'm ashamed of ye!"

She hangs in his hands like a worn rag, and for the first time, he sees her as she truly is, the scars at her face…

"Keela, how did ye come by those?" his voice is cautious.

She hangs her head that her hair might hide her face from him.

His stomach turns…she has lied to him…somewhere, somehow…what has she sought still to hide?

In light of the day's revelations he dreads her answer.

"There were children…I…I brought 'em out o' the fire with me own 'ands…God marked me for me sins. They howled an' would not come to me a' first, ye see…they knew me…an' I only went in after another went afore me…"

Heathcliff half shakes her again "Who?"

"Corder." She half spits the name "'E threw off his jacket at the screams and went in to the fire….no heed fer 'is own life…I…I had no thoughts o' savin' em…an' then I saw me worst enemy doin' what I would not. I would 'a let 'em burn…me who cried fer a little lamb lost…An' I knew meself not. So I went in for 'em."

Heathcliff sets her down on the bed "Ye knew ye had killed no children…because it was you that saved 'em?"

She nods.

"Did ye nail the doors up?"

She nods, mutely "I went in through the window. Me men almost mutinied…then at the urgin' o' the priest, they joined me…but…many men died…women too…"

"And Corder?" his voice is hollow.

"He pulled me out of the fire…the beams were comin' down… I had a bairn in me arms…he pulled me out…an' demanded to know what I were doin' there…I….I told 'im I'd spied the fire from the castle and come down to help…He praised me charity…God above, Heathcliff…he spoke to me as if I were a saint…riskin' me life to save my own enemies…'e saved me that day…I think his cruelty were partly in anger…'E thought 'iself mistaken as to me character, an' then 'e learned it were me that set the fire."

"But ye still saved the children, Keela."

She snarls: "I made 'em watch their parents die."

"And you'll live with that every day for the rest of yer life. " is the soft reply.

She nods, brushing away her tears with the sleeve of her gown, he helps her return to her usual raiment and they sit in silence for some moments.

At length he speaks "Keela…there were no good cause for what he had done to ye, whatever evil ye did. Ye could never have deserved it."

She smiles weakly "Thank ye."

She moves to lay her flaming head upon his chest, he runs his fingers down her back

"Did ye mean what ye told Edgar? That they were Sassanachs and so deserved such an end? Ye cried for a lamb dyin' as ye rightly recall."

He sits, and looks her hard in the eyes "Are ye so different my love? Have ye become one who could slay a child? Are ye not my own darling? Have ye become a soldier now? Has war so changed ye?"

For a moment silence stretched out between them like a lover.

She shakes her head, "Nay." She brushes the scars with pale fingetips

"An' may these always remind me o' that choice…"