The Lost and the Forgotten

Quinn’s mother went back to God Almighty when he was 12 years old, in that same year his father and him, as well as the whole clan, moved from Emerald Isle to Scotland. his father was from Scotland and he assumed that that was why they were moving from Emerald Isle, and that maybe Emerald Isle reminded his father too much of his mother. He didn’t know why his father wanted to move back to Scotland, it wasn’t pretty like Ireland was.

            Quinn’s father went back to God Almighty when he was at the age of 25; his father left a lot of unanswered questions when he left. Like why he left his oldest child in Scotland when he went to Ireland, why he never talked about the wife who was killed and his daughter that was married to the O’Banníon family, a clan in the highlands?

            At 50 Quinn was getting over all this, or rather forgetting all this. He would never forget that year, which was the year he had been trying to talk his father into going back to Ireland. After that year he moved that clan back to Ireland because of his fear of his stepsister. Every year his grandchildren would come to him and ask him to tell the story again; and every year he would.

            “It all started 35 years ago.” Quinn would start. “We had been living in Scotland for 13 years and I was missing Emerald Isle terribly. But that’s the year when I met my sister, whom I didn’t even know existed.”

            Livestock were missing and we had thought the Scots were done with teasing the Irish clan; but apparently not. I had been helping people allover the village to find their livestock when I noticed him. It was a man that looked as if he’d been traveling for a long time and he looked like someone from one of the highlander clans. He was scared and looked ready to fight; then, he smiled he had missing teeth and his nose looked like it had been broken and then reset badly. I walked up to him so I could find out which clan he was from.

            “Hello there,” I said, “wha’s your name?”

            “Me name’s Gilligan O’Donnal.” He said. “Wha’s yours?”

            “Quinn McGregor.” I said. “You’re from the O’Donnal clan.”

            “Aye,” he said.

I relaxed, the O’Donnal clan was a peaceful one and we got along well with them. But this Gilligan was very scared and he didn’t look like he was very peaceful. I didn’t quiet believe him. “You don’t sound like a Scot.” He said interrupting my thoughts.

            “I’m not,” I said, coming back to the present conversation. “I’m Irish.”

            “Oh, righ’.” He said. “I’ve heard of your clan.”

            “Is that so?” I said sarcastically. “Ya know, I know the O’Donnal clan but we haven’t had any contact with them. How’s Connor?”

            He seemed taken aback, then he answered “Connor’s fine. He sends his regards.”

            I smiled; no one named Connor would send me a message from the O’Donnal clan. I wouldn’t say anything; I would go along with him.

            “Good, good.” I said. “And how’s Maggie?”

            “She’s fine.” He said.

            Any other O’Donnal would be offended that I was treating her with so little respect. “Well you must be tired from your long journey.” I said. “Do you need a place to sleep or have you got somewhere to stay?”

             “I’ve got a place to stay,” he said, “thanks all the same.” At that he turned and left without say good bye or anything.

            I went to find me father. He might understand what was going on. Or at least be able to assist me in finding out.

            When I finally found my dear old da he was practicing the sword. As I approached he called for a stop. “My Son, Quinn, has arrived!” He boomed across the hill.

            I grinned; he always made me seem so important. “Father, I would like a word with you, if you please?” 

            “Certainly,” he said.

            It only took a few minutes to retail what had happened. Even father was shocked that I called Megoria “Maggie” he looked like he wanted to say something about it, and then thought differently.

            “Who do you think it really was?” I said.

            “I don’ know son,” he said quietly, “maybe you need to talk with this Gilligan in a more privet setting.” He chuckled with a devilish grin.

            “No,” I said. “Just because I live here doesn’t mean I have to act like a Scot.”

            “Watch your tongue, boy!” Father shouted.

            “Sorry, father,” I said, “I forgot that you’re a Scot.”

            “An’ don’ you be forgettin’ it.” He said. “Now get your arse ready to fight me. You have to prove that your better then me.”

            “Aye, the same to you, father.” I said

            We had been dueling for only 10 minutes when a strange cry came from the village. It sounded like dogs and cats and all manner of beasts. Father and I ran down the hill to the village. When we reached the village everyone looked as confused as I was.

            “They’ll not be doing this for nothin’.” father said.

            “What is the reason then?” I said.

            “The animals in Scotland always know when a battle of any kind is coming.” Father said. “And depending on if they’re in danger they’ll warn us.”

            I could almost kick something. “How’re we supposed to know what the danger is?” I said.

            “We’ll know when it gets here.” he said.

            “Well is it a warning a day in advance, a week, a month?” I said. “How far in advance do they tell us?”

            “I don’t know could be a day could be three.”

            “That’s just fooking fantastic!”

            “Watch your language, boy!”

            “Sorry.”

            Slowly the beasts calmed down the cats were the last to stop wailing. Everything was quiet; for now. The livestock finally came back from where ever they were. They looked alright. So I turned to go into my little house when something caught my eye. There was someone running from shadow to shadow away from the village. I followed as quickly and quietly as possible. I followed this figure for an hour, over hills and through the swamp land that was near by, until he stopped at a small camp. Now it was my turn to go from shadow to shadow. Finally the guy stopped in front of Gilligan and began his report.

            “Patrick,” the man said to Gilligan, “I am Stephen reporting about the McGregor clan.”

            “Go on,” Patrick said.

            “There are about 30 men and 25 women; they have about 15 children in all. The winter didn’t treat them kindly,” Stephen said.  

            “Keep going,”

            “All the men look able to fight without a problem. Even the old men, they’re all fit to fight.”

            I was shocked at what I was hearing. Who was this clan that obviously didn’t like us so much? Why do they want to attack us?

            “Good,” Patrick said, “we’ll attack in about a week when my mother will be here to ask him herself.”

            Who was the ‘him’ that Patrick was talking about? Would they kill any and all who were in the way?

            Suddenly a dog woke up that was right next to me and it started barking. I ran faster then I would have ever believed I could. They didn’t follow. I don’t know why; maybe they thought the dog was barking at some small creature, at least that’s what I hoped.

            As soon as I reached home I ran straight to my father and told him what I had heard. He looked to the hills thoughtfully. Finally he said that we could only prepare and wait for what ever it was they were planning, and if ‘Gilligan’ ever came back to keep him here and have a little heart to heart.

            The next day was very quiet, the animals hardly made any noise and father had just finished telling the whole village about the clan that was coming. Everyone was wondering what they’d done to deserve such treatment from another clan. The men were quiet there was no drinking, no laughing, no joking, just silence. The mothers tried to keep the truth from their children because they felt the children didn’t need to know what was going on. Father and I were trying to figure out if we need to send the women and children somewhere or if that won’t be necessary. We decided that the women and children would be safest where the men would be; and the women can take care of themselves. I felt sorry for any man that tried to mess with her or her children.

            And that was the first, tense day.

We had a look out just incase Patrick’s clan decided to come early; they didn’t come that day, or the next, or the next.

We kept the look out so we wouldn’t be caught by surprise. We had a few different people for the look out post so no one was there for very long. No one were really scared for there life, but nonetheless they still would rather not fight with Scots.

            The watch was about to switch about a week later when Gwen, the man who was on the look out post, came charging back on his horse to say that he saw someone coming. I thought it was best to act normal until a reason was given to act other wise. So they did, every one went to their families, father and I got our swords and began to practice. The man was ‘Gilligan’ or Patrick.

            “Gilligan, your back!” I said turning from my father.

            “Aye,” he said, “you’re Quinn, right?”

            “Aye,” I said heartily, “what brings you back so soon?”

             “I actually came to speak with your father.”

            “Oh?” I said. “I see. He’s right over here.” I lead him over to father. “Father this is Gilligan O’Donnal.”

            “Nice to met you.” father said. “You look strangely familiar.”

            “Maybe that’s because I’m of your line,” He said, “from your life before Ireland.”

            Father looked stunned, and then he said, “What do you mean?”

            “I think you know what I mean.” Patrick said.

            “What’s your real name?” father said.

            Patrick smiled, “My name is Patrick O’Banníon, my mother is Catharine O’Banníon. The daughter you abandon 28 years ago when you left for Ireland.”

            “Impossible.” I said. I’ve never seen father looked so shocked.

            “No it’s not, dear uncle.” Patrick said. “Sadly it’s all too real.”

            “I couldn’t agree more.” Everyone turned to the new, female voice.

            “Catharine?” father said weakly. “Is that really you?”

            “Yes, father” she spat; she looked like someone who would kill you without so mush as a blink of her eye.

            “Father?” I said. “What’s going on? Is she really your child?”

            “Yes, brother,” Catharine said. “Did he kill your mother too?”

            “What?” father said, “You think I killed your mother? How can you think that even possible of me?”

            “You left me,” Catharine said, “I was still a child and you got me married off and then you just left! I didn’t know anyone but you; I had to start my life all over. You left me a bomb that went off and I cried and cried. Brian didn’t know what to do; I wasn’t the happy lass he married.”

            “Catharine, I’m sorry.” Father said. “Really I am I thought that you were ready to move on. I needed to get away from Scotland for a while; I didn’t intend to stay for 15 years.”

            “Liar!!” she shrieked. She and Patrick left the village with a huge emptiness behind them.

            I wanted to explode on my father, to demand why he hadn’t told be about Catharine. But the look on his face drove it from my mind, for now.

            Father had fallen to his knees as she and his grandson left. She looked back one time and her face had nothing but hate. Father had a mournful look on his face. He opened his mouth in a silent cry, as if trying to call Catharine back to him. I helped him into his little house so he could really do what ever he was going to about what just happened.

            “What’re we gonna do?” I said.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I can’t fight my own daughter. I would rather die then do that.”

            “Then what do you suggest?” I said.

            “I don’t know.” He said. “Leave me alone so I can think.”

            “Alright,” I said. I left him to his thoughts. I was outside, no one asked me any questions about what happened; in fact they pretended that it didn’t even happen. They wouldn’t have a problem fighting her. From what little I knew about the O’Banníon clan, they are a clan that won every battle they’ve ever fought. I just couldn’t fathom that father had another life before he came to Emerald Isle. It was so strange.

            The next day Catharine and Patrick came back, this time everyone was not going to stand like frighten horses in a storm. Father and I came forward and spoke to Catharine and Patrick. Father was first to speak.

            “Catharine,” he said, “would you fight me to the death and leave this clan to go back to Ireland?”

            “Yes.” Catharine said. She didn’t look the least be afraid.

            “Ok, then that’s what’ll happen.” He said. “Quinn,” he said turning to me, “don’t step in if I lose and if I do lose just take everyone and leave.”

            “But father I – “

            “Quinn.”

            “Alright, I promise.”

            “That goes double for you, Patrick.” Catharine said.

            “Yes, ma.”

            “Let’s go into the hills. Only Patrick and Quinn may come to watch us duel, agreed?” Father said.

            “Aye, agreed.”

            “Then let’s go.”

            We reach a hilltop where father and I use to practice the sword. Catharine and father stood facing each other Patrick and I stood on opposite ends of the little circle. Catharine jumped into it; she didn’t give a warning and no one said go but it seemed that father was expecting that so he wasn’t caught off guard. The swords flashed like lighting and the clashed like thunder. I’d never seen anyone fight with such speed, power, and control at the same time. I marveled at my newfound stepsister. Father had a look of sorrow on his face and his reactions were slowing, there was something wrong. He was giving up seeing if she’d really do it; if she’d really kill him.

            I wanted to put a stop to this battle right now but my promise to Father held me where I was. It happened in a second, Catharine’s sword went through Father’s chest and they seem to freeze. Father had a look on his face that sang a sad song. Catharine’s face was pure horror at what she’d done to her father; her sword was in one end and out the other. She grabbed him and helped him down gently and began to weep. I was frozen in horror and shock. Father just gave up, he stopped fighting so Catharine would leave me alone and I could return to Ireland.

            Catharine had screamed at me to leave before she killed me too but I didn’t want to leave Father. She said he’d get a proper burial and to pack up and leave quickly. I left I was so lost and I had to find a way for my clan to get to Ireland. I left Catharine morning our father, she was the forgotten daughter. So we went our separate ways, I back to Ireland and she only God knows. I was Lost without Father but she felt Forgotten by Father.