Skye turned her head away, ashamed of what was happening to
her and confused by the stirrings of desire she was beginning to feel.
Claire thrust and moaned against Skye’s helpless body with increas-
ing fervor until suddenly Dom pulled her away and, mounting his
wife, thrust into her.

Skye screamed, which only seemed to madden him. Claire was
now kneeling within Skye’s view, slack-mouthed with lust as she
watched her brother use his wife. When Dom had sated himself with
Skye he rolled off her and loosened her bonds. He pushed her away,
pulled his sister over, and mounted her next, Skye curled into a
tight, protective ball, and sobbed. She had never felt so fouled in
her entire life. She knew that if anyone so much as touched her
again, she would kill.

Strengthened by this realization, she marshaled her courage and
crawled off the bed. Stumbling across the room, she reached the
door. Dom and his sister had finished by this time and Claire saw
her. She cried out, “She’s escaping, Dom! Get her back! I want her
again!”

Dom lurched off the bed and lunged for his wife. Skye had now
wrenched the door open. As he reached out for her, Skye sidestepped
him. Dom stumbled through the door, lost his balance, and fell screaming headlong down the flight of stone steps leading to his
sister’s day chamber.

There was a stunned silence. He lay still, twisted grotesquely.
Claire leaped from the bed and stood gazing down into the room
below. Then she turned on Skye and howled, “You’ve killed him!
You’ve killed Dom!”

Holy Mother forgive me, thought Skye, but I hope so! Then as
relief brought strength sweeping over her, she turned on Claire and
furiously slapped her, leaving the imprint of her hand on the girl’s
face. “Shut up, you vicious little bitch! Shut up!”

“We must get help,” whimpered Claire.

“Not yet.”

“You do want him dead,” came the horrified accusation.

“I’ll not deny it,” said Skye flatly, and Claire shrank away from
her. “But before we can get help we must all dress. How will it look
to the servants to find the three of us mother naked? I’ll not put that
scandal on my sons. Get dressed! Then go and fetch me some clothes
from my room. Quickly!”

The procedure seemed to take forever, but at last both women
were dressed. Struggling together, they forced Dom into his clothes.
To Skye’s sorrow, he was still breathing.

“Now,” said Skye, “rouse the house.”

“What will I tell them?” quavered Claire.

“That Dom has had an accident. I will handle the rest. Go, now!”

Claire fled, shrieking loudly enough to rouse the entire household,
and quickly the room was filled with babbling servants. Skye calmly
directed the removal of her injured husband to his own rooms. The
family’s surgeon was sent for and arrived as the dawn was breaking.

Dom lived, but it would have been better if he had died. His
spine was broken in two places. He was paralyzed from the waist
down. He would not walk, or function as a man, ever again.

Skye thanked the surgeon, paid his fee, and sent him away. Then
she took on the O’Flahertys. Gilly blustered at her. “Claire says
you’re responsible for my son’s condition.”

“Your son is responsible for his own condition,” replied Skye
coldly. “Last night after the meal was finished and I had seen to my
household duties, I went to your daughter’s rooms to speak to her
about arranging a marriage. I found her and your precious son fuck-
ing merrily! And it was not the first time they had engaged in
mis… incest! When I tried to flee from them they ripped my clothes
from me, and used me vilely! Both of them! I tried to escape again
and Dom lunged at me. When I stepped aside he fell through the
open door and down the stairs. I’m only sorry he didn’t break his
damned neck! It would have saved me the trouble of caring for him.

If you still believe that I have wronged your son, Gilly, then we
will take our case and place it before the MacWilliam.”

“Yes!” sobbed Claire. “For once in your life, Father, take the
initiative! Dom will spend the rest of his life half a man because of
her! She deserves to be punished!”

Skye drew herself up proudly and looked down upon the vengeful
Claire. “Yes, Claire,” she purred. “Take your case to the Mac-
William. Do! And then be prepared either to prove your virginity
before the midwives’ panel or name your lover! Who will you say
it is, Claire? One of the serfs? I think not. You’re far too proud a
bitch to admit to fucking with a serf. Who then? There is no one
else! No one ever comes to visit you. No one! Perhaps you could
claim the Devil for your lover. In a sense, you’d be speaking the
truth.”

Skye’s father-in-law looked suddenly old, and defeated. Claire
wept helplessly. Skye’s next words held a finality. “I am going home
to Innisfana,” she announced. “And I am taking my sons with me.
I will not be back. Since Claire loves her brother so deeply she will
remain here to care for him for the rest of his life. I will see that
Da withdraws her dowry. She has no chance of a decent marriage
without it, and I would not, knowing what I do now, see her wed
with some poor unsuspecting lad. She will be fed and clothed at my
expense, or she may go with what she has. The choice is hers.

“Frang the bailiff will run the estate for me, and answer to me
alone. This is, after all, to be Ewan’s inheritance someday and I
want it turned over to him in good condition.

“Gilly, you will be taken care of, but my father’s lawyers will
shortly have a paper for you to sign that will prevent you from
gambling away any part of the estate. Mark me well, Gilly. I will
not pay for your wines, your women, or your gambling debts!”

“Father! Are you going to let her do this to us!?”

Gilly stared straight ahead and Skye smiled triumphantly. “Yes,
Claire, he is! He knows the alternative. I will bring my case before
the MacWilliam-and before the Church! If I do I will accuse you
not only of incest with your brother, but of witchcraft as well! You
deserve to bum for what you’ve been doing!”

“I love him!” Claire screamed.

“You were his sister!”

“I loved him,” Claire repeated, “From the time we first bedded
when I was but a maid of eleven. I was the only woman who ever
really satisfied Dom.”

Skye looked pityingly at Claire. “In the years that Dom has left
we will see how much you really love him.”

In the morning Skye bid her husband an unemotional farewell.

“I hope you enjoyed what you and your sister did the other night,
for the memory of it will have to last you a lifetime!”

“Bitch!” he snarled at her. “What kind of a woman are you to
leave me?”

“A better woman than you ever knew or appreciated, Dom. Your
conduct with your sister has wiped free any obligation on my part
toward you. Farewell.”

He struggled to rise. “Bitch! Come back! I command you, Skye!
Come back!”

She never turned back. His voice, alternating between curses,
threats, and pleas, followed her until the sound became quite un-
intelligible and finally faded altogether.

Skye rode away from the O’Flaherty house, Ewan before her on
her saddle. Behind her were the carts carrying her younger son, the
two nurses, and her household goods.

But when Skye reached lnnisfana several days later there was no
peaceful haven there. Dubhdara O’Malley lay dying, having been
badly injured by a falling mast in a storm as he was bringing his
ship home. A stubborn man, he had refused to die until he reached
his home, and until he had seen his youngest daughter. The mes-
senger he sent to Skye had found her as she took ship for lnnisfana
Island.

She was barely in time to bid her father a final farewell. Tearful,
she kissed his cold and sweating brow. “I’m back for good, Da.”

He nodded. Explanations were unimportant now. “Your brothers
are too young for the ships yet,” he gasped weakly. “You’ve got to
take charge for me.”

It never crossed her mind that he was thrusting a huge respon-
sibility upon her. She answered simply, “I will.”

“You’re the best of them, lassie. Even the boys.”

“Oh, Da,” she whispered. “Oh, Da, I do love you!”

“Skye, lass, this time follow your heart,” were Dubhdara
O’Malley’s last words to his favorite child. He died a few minutes
later, holding her hand.

Her beautiful blue eyes overflowing, she looked wordlessly to
her uncle Seamus. “I heard him,” he said, “and I’ll uphold your
rights, Skye. You’re the new O’Malley, and may God be with you
for you’ll be needing all the help you can get.”

Skye looked to her stepmother. “I heard him, and I trust you,”
said Anne. “You’ll do right by us all. Besides, it’s your full brother
Michael who is the next male in line, not my lads.”

“In this family,” answered Skye, “it’s not necessarily the eldest,
but the most competent. At least two of your boys show more promise than Michael. He’s most like my mother, lord help him.
He’s more likely to follow Our Lord Christ than the sea. Am I not
right, Uncle?”

Seamus O’Malley nodded. “He’d asked me to talk with Dubh.
He wants to enter St. Padraic’s and become a priest.”

Skye turned to Anne. “You see. It rests with Brian and Shane
now.”

As quickly as the family of the O’Malley chief could be assem-
bled, they determined the length of the wake and the date of the
funeral. With Seamus O’Malley and Anne to back her, Skye was
reluctantly recognized as the new O’Malley by her brothers-in-law
and her very shocked sisters. Her clansmen and vassals came quickly,
almost joyfully, to pay their homage to Skye, the new O’Malley.

The next step was a journey to the MacWilliam’s stronghold to
pledge him her fealty. Only Anne, Eibhlin, and her uncle knew the
truth behind her leaving her husband. All three were horrified, but
swore to keep the secret. Seamus O’Malley added to his niece’s
mystique by claiming that she had returned home because of a dream
in which her father called her from over the waves. The men who
had sailed with her father and with her when she was a child cir-
culated once again the old tales of her bravery and skill. The
MacWilliam would have been hard pressed indeed to deny Skye her
inheritance.