Silver Branch

The bonfires were spread throughout Ireland, lighting up the night with an eerie glow.  In Jack Murphy’s field alone, there were forty huge fires blazing at the entrance of the dark Wood.  Samhains was a dark time, the beginning of the death season, the night of the otherworld.  The sky was as black as pitch and no moon appeared.  But the light from the fires all over Munster brought an eerie light that shone as brightly as day. 

No one was seen out of their homes this late on Samhains, for it was well known that when the sun sank, then the faery folk would rise, along with the ghosts of evil men.  Every family sat around the hearth praying with fervor that they would live through the night.  The bonfires would keep the shadows away as long as they burned on the fields and outside the houses.  Along the coast of the Irish Sea an army of bonfires blocked the path from the ocean keeping away the spirits that lurked in the murky depths. 

In the village of Kilcurreen, the bonfires were losing their blaze.  Dawn had not yet come and the cinders were all but blown out on the wind.  Those who were brave enough to peek outside their doors were struck with a supernatural fear, as the otherworld gained strength and the fires dwindled more. 

Slamming the door shut suddenly, Conn MacBrian turned toward his wife and daughter.  The look they saw on his face told them all they needed to know...the fires were out and their deaths were near. 

Lorelei sat silently watching her mother and father as they prayed with shaking voices, looking upward and all around with wide eyes.  “Our father forgive us...deliver us from evil....deliver us from evil.....deliver us from evil.....” 

For an hour or so, they sat in silence, not one word was exchanged, and all eyes were on the door.  The fire in their hearth was dwindling as well.  As the shadows in the house lengthened, Conn snapped out of his trance and threw another piece of wood into the fire.  Soon the light in the house brightened and they all relaxed slightly.  Then, not a minute later, Lorelei pointed to the door with a shaking finger.  But her parents’ eyes were already fixed on it. 

The mist that crept under the door was soft and billowy.  It surrounded the frame of the strong wooden door, circling it slowly at first...then more rapidly.  Then came the voices..loud inhuman shrieks of laughter growing in number.  Lorelei clapped her hands over her ears but her parents just stared at the door, panic-stricken.  The latch began to shake when the mist encircled it.  It turned violently, while the voices grew louder.  When the latch was broken cleanly off, the door began to open.  The last thing Lorelei saw when the door finally swung full open, was that there was nothing outside.  Then her eyes were closed and she sank into darkness. 

* * * * * *

All Souls Day was a day of celebration for the people of Eirann.  The ghosts of the otherworld had retreated under hills and back into the shadows to stay until the following year.  But in Kilcureen there was no celebration. 

Murrough O’Fion found the opened door to the cottage first at dawn.  The light of the sun was safely in the sky and the shadows were all but disappeared.  Murrough walked toward the cottage quickly.  He stopped at the doorway, peering inside at the darkness still lurked there.  He walked in slowly and took the lantern down from behind the door and lit it.  The glow of light spread through the room and he was suddenly struck with shock. 

On the floor near the hearth sat Deirdre MacBrien with her cold white arms wrapped around her husband.  Both of their eyes were wide open, staring straight at the doorway where Murrough stood.  Their skin was pale, and Conn’s beard and hair had turned completely white.  Death had come to them both as they held each other. 

Murrough took his eyes away from the sight of his oldest friend in the shadow, with the look of supernatural terror still fresh on his face and the face of his once beautiful wife.  When the shock was over he remembered Conn’s daughter, Lorelei.  He looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found in the small cottage.  He retreated back through the doorway into the sanctuary of the sunlight. 

By the time the sun had climbed to the top of the sky, the entire village was searching for the little girl.  Murrough knew they were just fooling themselves, believing that they would find her.  But he knew, just as everyone else did, just what happened to that poor girl.  No one, however, said aloud their thoughts, for it was bad luck to speak ill of the faery. 

They searched in every meadow, every field, and glen in the village.  The only place not checked, which was a unanimous decision, was the Wood.  No one ever went there as it was well known to all that that was the sidhe of the Tuatha King, Nuada.  There the shadows were always long.  In his grandfather’s time, Murrough remembered the story of a young man named Finn who was taken the by faery from his home to that wood, and never heard from again.  That story was well known to all the men and women and especially the children of Kilcureen.  Only the forest animals were allowed to enter and they seldom did.  Murrough cast a glance at the edge of the Wood and shook his head with sadness. 

* * * * * *

That was the second day of November in the year of the Lord 826.  The years that followed were the years of invasions by the Norsemen.  In 877 the Danes destroyed Kilcureen.  Not a single survivor was found and the houses and fields were burnt to the ground.  Centuries later when Brian Boru took the kingship of Eirann, the Viking raids ended.  Co.  Wicklow, where Kilcureen had stood, was repopulated with farmers and then years later, with garrisons of soldiers from England.

In the time between, many travelers came to the edge of that Wood.  But none went in among the shadows of the tall trees.  And many came away from that dreaded place telling of a dream they had after visiting the area.  The dreams were the same in 934 as they were in 1260, when Brian O’Neill the King of Ireland traveled through on the way to fight at the Battle of Down, which ultimately meant his death.  But before that fateful day, he told Tadg MacBrien that “while passing by the wood the hairs on the back of me neck stood on end I was so overcome with terror.  Then I saw a little girl about nine or ten years old walking amongst the trees....then she was gone.  The Fair Folk were in tha’ wood ta be sure.”  It was widely rumored that after receiving his mortal blow, the dying king was taken off the field of battle by a faery woman of unsurpassing beauty and never seen again.  His body was found a month later near the Wood, and the dead O’Neill had a smile on his face. 

* * * * * *

The years passed.  The centuries were hard on the Irish.  Invasion followed invasion by the English.  But in the meanwhile Ireland had found its renaissance in the form of literature and the arts.  Though violence was their history, the Irish remained a strong people with a strong faith in man and God.  Though Christianity became the dominant factor in their lives, it never drove away the respect and fear for the otherworld of the faery.  And in 1599 the soldier and Earl of Tyrone, Hugh O’Neill, having just eloped with Mabel Bagenal, an Englishwoman, slept at the entrance of the Wood for six days with the hope of seeing the girl.  She appeared behind a tree just before he left, appearing only to him, his new wife never saw her. 

* * * * * *

1933.  Ireland was free.  The north was still in English hands, but the Republicans were harassing the English to unify the country.  The Potato Famine cut the population in half a century before and Ireland had not fully recovered, with many of its people migrating to the New World.  In Arklow, Co.  Wicklow, the people were living simple lives.  Sean Fitzpatrick was twenty-two in 1933 and dreaming of America. 

It was All Saints Day.  Sean was in a bad mood because he had to work with his father in the field the next morning not allowing him to join his friends in Wicklow for a Halloween party. 

Twilight had crept upon the land and the sky was lit with purple and orange clouds, and stars that shone through the sky.  The moon was pale and gave off little light.  Sean walked through the barley field and stood just beyond the Wood.  It was dark as it had always been, with impenetrable shadows lurking amongst the trees.  He sat down on the soft grass and just stared at the tall foreboding trees.  He was not frightened but simply curious.  He had never been in the woods, as his parents were very superstitious and that was the most haunted wood in Ireland. 

The wind was picking up and the soft breeze flew through the field emitting a light whoosh sound but it was the crackling of the tree branches hitting each other that held his attention.  Then, he saw a movement among the trees.  Near to the ground something moved.  He ducked down among the wheat and stared as he saw a girl, perhaps eighteen years old, walking between the trees, looking outward.  She was beautiful, he thought, as he stared at her.  Her hair was long and straight, her body slender in a soft green dress.  She walked gracefully through the wood, stopping occasionally to look out of the forest.  She also seemed sad.  Sean was a good distance away from the wood but he was overcome by the sight of her. 

Then he did something foolish.  He stood up.  Among the brown wheat stalks he stood out.  Six feet tall with dark hair, and a white shirt on, he could be seen for a kilometer or more.  The girl stared at him then, stopping to hide behind a tree.  He stood up and walked over to the entrance of the Wood, slowly.  Sean was frightened but he felt compelled to walk.  His body moved while his mind reeled in fear.  As he came to the first tree, the girl came out from behind, and cried in a strange but strong voice, “stop!” Sean froze as the girl walked up to the last tall pine tree and stood watching him. 

They stared at each other, Sean was too frightened to move or say a word.  Then the girl spoke; “You would be wise not to come further to this Wood.  Tis the eve of Samhains and the Folk are about this night.  Go back ere your death follow.”  Her warning went unheeded.  Sean would not, could not move.  Here was a girl of pure radiance looking back at him with liquid green eyes that seemed ancient beyond her youth. 

“Where did you come from,?” he finally asked in a high shaking voice.  “Are you one of the fairy folk?”

She looked at him for a moment trying to absorb the sound of his voice.  “I am not of the daoine sidhe, but a mortal like yourself.   But I’ve dwelt with them for longer than I can remember.”  The melancholy in her sweet voice pulled at him, and he suddenly wished to embrace her. 

“Are you being held in captivity by the faery folk?”

“No, not against my will.  Not anymore.  But for me to trespass beyond the sanctuary of this wood, could mean my death.  Time passes differently here than it does for you.

“But your life is short and I should not like to see it wasted.  Ye must turn away from here and go.  I beg you.” 

Sean looked at her, not wanting to leave but understood the danger in staying.  “I’ll go....but first will you tell me your name?” A sound of music came from deep in the Wood then.  Irish pipes were playing a loud eerie tune while the beat of the Bodhran echoed through the forest.  Sean almost turned and ran but hesitated looking at the girl intently. 

She looked frightened now, not for herself but for Sean.  “Lorelei.  Now go!” He smiled, then ran up to her and taking her hand he held it to his lips.  “My lady I am honored to make yer acquaintance.”  She pushed him away, pleading for him to go.  He winked at her and turning, bolted back through the barley field until he reached his cottage. 

As she watched him go, Lorelei sighed.  She rubbed the back of her hand where he had kissed her and smiled.  Then glancing at the moon up overhead, she turned to walk back into the heart of the dark Wood. 

* * * * * *

Sean was back safely at the cottage.  He was almost out of breath, he had been running so fast.  When he reached the door to the small house, he turned and looked back at the Wood beyond the field.  There was no sign of Lorelei anywhere.  But he hoped to God that he would see her again.

All Saints Day was sunny and unusually warm for the time of year.  The wind blew in from the Irish Sea cooling the air in the afternoon.  Sean spent the daylight hours in the field practicing with his hurling stick.  When the sun fell below the trees, his father came riding up the road from Dublin.  He had been gone for two days to deliver his wheat to the market at Dublin.  Sean ran up to meet him.  “Hello da’, how was the market?” He looked over the field first, then his eyes focused on his son.  “Ah, it was bloody awful.  The prices were lower again this year.  But I think we’ll be okay.”  Sean put the horse in the barn and fed her, bringing her fresh water and oats.  When he went back into the house his father was laying on his bed.  “Ah I’m tired Sean.  I’m gettin too old for this.  Ah well, what say we go to O’Rourke’s for a pint.? I need to see Seamus to catch up on things anyway.”   Sean smiled.  He needed to get out for a while at least.  All day long he had been thinking about the girl he saw the night before. 

Pat O’Rourke was a large man, six and half feet tall if it was an inch., and he had the biggest hands in Wicklow.  He could carry four pints of Guiness in each hand, a feat that impressed his small crowd night after night.  The pub was crowded tonight, most of the folks from Arklow gathered there to talk and drink.  Many had called it the Town Hall, as it was well known that the local politicians cast their votes with a pint of O’Rourke’s brew in their hands. 

The door opened and the Fitzpatricks’ walked in, Sean closing the door behind them.  “Ah Padraig, where the hell ye been old man?” O’Rourke pulled two glasses from below the bar and put them under the tap.  Padraig and his son walked up to O’Rourke and Padraig shook his hand, while taking off his cap.  “Good ta see ye O’Rourke,” he said, sitting down on a wooden stool.  “And you too lad, I haven’t seen your ugly mug here in a long time.”  O’Rourke laughed and Sean smiled rolling his eyes upward. 

They sat for an hour, the two old men talking about the days when they were younger and throwing curses into the air aimed at the English.  It was a usual night at the pub.  But Sean’s mind wasn’t really there.  He kept imagining the Wood and he longed to go back there.  After courteously talking to all of his father’s old friends, he told his father he was heading home.  Padraig nodded without looking at his son, and Sean opened the door and walked out into the night air. 

It was near midnight and the moon was overhead but was just a crescent now.  The light was soft but it was enough to see the way along the road.  It was quiet, no one was traveling tonight because they were all at the pub.  The only sound was the wind blowing in the tall grass and through the trees.  About a kilometer down the road he stopped to tie his shoe.  He knelt to the ground and while he was there, he felt a tugging on his belt.  He turned to see a small woman, no taller than a mouse, pulling at his pouch of coins.  Her long red hair flew around her tiny body and two translucent wings flapped rapidly as she tried to pull the pouch, which was almost twice her size, away from Sean.  He tried to crawl away from her but her strength was more than his.   Finally, she freed the pouch from his belt and flew into the sky with it.  Sean was dumbfounded, but he thought more about the coins that she had taken.  He couldn’t afford to lose them, so he chased after her.  She flew only about five feet in the air but she was quick, and Sean barely kept pace behind her about ten feet.  She flew through the meadow on the side of the road until she came to the field of barley.  She stopped, looked to see Sean gaining on her, and smiling mischievously, flew straight for the Wood. 

The tiny fairy reached the wood just ahead of Sean, who stopped at the entrance.  She stood on a small branch and looked at him, her arms around the brown pouch.  “Thank you Sean Fitzpatrick, tis a wondrous gift ye have given me.  But the gift I give you will be worth more than a few coins.”  A luminating glow appeared at his feet and he saw a branch of silver sitting there on the ground, with three yellow apples on it.  He picked up the branch and looked at it.  “And what am I to do with this?,” Sean asked. 

“It will stop time for you if you wish it.  Love is a timeless thing and no one knows that poor riddle more than my sweet Lorelei.  For her, I give you this branch.  But be wary Sean Fitzpatrick.  For if you choose to use it, your world will change....more than you know.”  Then, she smiled sweetly at him and rose into the air, clutching the pouch of coins to her chest, gliding on the wind through the trees into the shadows of the Wood. 

Sean stood there examining the branch.  It was pure silver, but he could see that the apples were real that grew from it.  He didn’t understand what the branch would do, but the thought that he would see Lorelei again was enough to bring a smile to his face.  He looked around but didn’t see anyone else.  Sighing, he turned and went back to his house and fell asleep. 

It wasn’t until the night of Lunantshees, eight days later, that Sean saw her again.  Lunantshees was a pagan festival that honored the Daoine Sidhe in Ireland.  Though the Catholic Church had long since put an end to the actual festival, some still gathered at the more famous fairy forts and sidhes to give offerings of milk and jewelry that the faery coveted.  The autumn nights were growing colder and the people of Arcklow either stayed in their homes or went over to O’Rourkes.  Sean’s father rode off to the pub just before the sun sank. 

Sean walked out to the Wood as he did every night, bringing with him the silver branch, the fairy woman had given him.  He came to the first tree of the forest and stopped.  He looked around to see if anyone was approaching, then sat on the ground and waited. 

He sat for two hours before he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and goosebumps appear.  He looked up and saw Lorelei standing above him, smiling down.  Her soft hair fell around her shoulders, the soft green dress that blew slightly in the wind.  She was beautiful and Sean stared at her gawking, with an odd smile on his face.  She laughed softly then sat next to him.

“Good evenin Sean.” 

“Good evenin to you miss.  Is it safe to be here tonight?” He looked past her to the darkness of the Wood then, fear suddenly creeping up on him. 

“Aye, it is.  You have the branch of Nuada the Silver Hand.  It is a gift from him.  No harm will come to you as long as you hold it and mean the People no ill will.” 

“Who are you? I know your not one of them, where did you come from?” She looked at him for a moment then replied. 

“Well I am told I came from this place where you now live.  But then it was called Kilcureen.  I had lived ten mortal years when I was taken from my home.....what year is it?”

“1933”

“Then that makes me eleven-hundred years old.”  She smiled at his reaction.  “I have perhaps aged twelve years in that time, however.  Time passes differently here.” 

“Why did they take you?,” Sean asked. 

“The leader of this sidhe, the Tuatha King Nuada, lost his daughter in the war with the Fomorians before the Christ King came.  Perhaps he became lonely...who knows.  But they are not an evil folk, I assure you.  Evil and good have no meaning for them.  They are a part of nature, just as the earthquake must exist with the flowers in the meadows.”  

Sean was a bit confused but let it go.  His thoughts were focused on the girl a few feet away from him.  He could see her blush at his constant gaze, and looked away.  “Well, I am glad to see you here in the least, for I have ne’er seen anything as beautiful as you.”  She beamed at this and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips.  Sean’s mind reeled as he kissed her back.  They sat together on the earth’s floor talking and smiling and kissing.  As dawn approached, Lorelei stood up.  “I have to return to the sidhe.  Nuada calls.”  Melancholy stole over Sean, as he desperately wanted her to stay.  “I will see you again Sean Fitzpatrick.”  She kissed him again and backed into the shadows of the Wood watching him with a smile. 

When she finally disappeared from view, Sean turned and walked back slowly to the cottage.  His heart was empty now.  He felt as if something was missing without her.  Sean turned back, hoping to see a sign of her but didn’t.  He walked back to the cottage. 

* * * * * *

The next night Lorelei did not appear at the entrance of the Wood.  For the entire night he sat there, hoping that she would come, but she did not.  And for the next several months he went there, and still she did not return.  In the middle of the next spring, Sean’s father passed away in his sleep.  He had lived a long tiring life, and a smile was left on his face.  Sean sold the land to the Coughlin’s of Wicklow and left Arcklow for good, taking a job in Dublin unloading cargo on ships from America. 

Four years later, Sean’s chance to go to America came.  The money he saved bought his passage and he landed in Boston on May 19, 1942.  He went to work at the shipyard and stayed there until 1964.  During a routine day, the rope carrying a long steel rudder, fell onto Sean’s leg, shattering his knee almost killing him.  He was forced to rely on a cane for the remainder of his life. 

He lived happily, however, with many friends helping him through.  When in 1979, his luck finally ran out, his years of smoking cigars having caught up to him, a doctor at Boston City Hospital diagnosed him with lung cancer.  Sean took it in stride and a year later, he decided to return home to Ireland. 

* * * * * *

Sean Fitzpatrick walked down the road to the old cottage where he lived as a boy, and where he had first known love and sadness.  Not too much had changed here, the fighting in the North was worse than ever but the town of Arcklow hadn’t changed all that much.  O’Rourke’s was now run by his grandson, Jack O’Brien.  The cottage where he lived was now gone though, and the field of barley was bare.  But in the back there still stood the ancient Wood, as it had always stood, dark and foreboding. 

Nightfall descended and Sean stood before the Wood near the tree where he had sat with Lorelei all those years before.  His eyes filled with tears then, as the memory brought back joy and pain.  From his coat pocket he pulled his only possession: a branch of silver with three yellow apples.  Using his cane he sank to the earth, letting his old weary bones rest.  He sat there for hours reliving memories of his youth.  He fell asleep an hour later, resting his head on the soft grass. 

Sean awoke during the middle of the night.  His eyes were not focused, but when his vision came to him, he saw a familiar young woman sitting across from him smiling.  She looked the same as she did in 1933.  She was beautiful and age had not touched her.  She took his hand in hers and held it to her cheek.  Sean smiled back at her. 

“I have missed you Lorelei.” 

“Aye, and I you Sean Fitzpatrick.”  They talked again as if no time had passed since their first meeting, and the weight of the years on Sean seemed to lighten when he was with her.  They talked long into the night and as the sun began to rise in the east, Lorelei stood up.  “Dawn approaches Sean, and my king calls.” 

Grief came again to Sean as he could not bear the thought of seeing her leave him again.  He looked at her without saying a word.  She smiled at him and walked back to the trees.  But before she disappeared, she called to him, “Will you come with me Sean Fitzpatrick and live among the shadows?”

Sean’s eyes grew wide.  He struggled against his cane to stand up and walked to the edge of the Wood.  “I can not enter the Wood.  It is forbidden.” 

She smiled again at him.  “You have been invited my love.  Come with me and time will stop for you and I.” 

He looked down at the silver branch in his hand, and smiled thankfully.  He limped across to the first tree then passed it.  As he did so, the feeling in his leg came back to him, and suddenly his cane seemed unnecessary.  He cast the cane down and walked on.  The years attached to his body melted away in a mist then, and the form of a twenty-three year old stood in its place.  Lorelei walked up to him and embraced him, kissing him fully on the lips.  Then, after casting one last look over the barley field at the old broken house of his youth, Sean put his hand in Lorelei’s and walked deep into the Wood, disappearing among the great shadows of the tall trees.