Irish Slave Trade Book One - Chapter One

Authors Note - Where there is a blank space is the name of a town, I am just not sure which part of Ireland I am going to center my story in =) Sorry about that, hopefully I will change it soon! I also am not sure of the tittle yet, I apologize.

Chapter One

An orange and red mixture covered most of the sky, with only a small hint of the blue hidden beneath it. Neil stood atop a hill looking at the town below him. As close as it looked, he knew it was a good hour and a half away considering he was on foot. ____ was just another town, another place to him.

As a young boy raised on a farm and never going any place farther than the two surrounding small towns, he would have been dreaming of what new places looked like. Now as a man, having seen every place imaginable in Ireland, and always moving from place to place without stopping more than a week in one town, Neil didn't look on the town with much excitement. Rather the opposite, he realized, he looked on the town with mixed feelings of jealousy and longing to be able to settle down and raise a family like everyone else. He silently wondered if the farmers, with their wives and kids and land, knew how lucky they were to be settled in one place.
An image of his deceased wife and their son playing hide and seek in the garden flashed before his mind, and he tried to brush away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. They would have loved the sight before him. His wife Aileen would have commented on the beauty of God's creations, and how the painting in the sky was a sign from God, telling them they would make it to Heaven one day. His son, Brendan, being too young to understand much of what was going on around him, would have been more occupied as he tried to catch the butterflies fluttering about.

A tear escaped Neil's eye and he let it fall freely to the ground. He wasn't ashamed of crying over the loss of them. His mother had once told him long ago, when he was a young lad, that crying over the loss of loved ones was a sign of strength. He oftened wondered whether she had only said that to make him feel better when the tears spilled for the loss of his brother, or if the saying was true.
With a nervous sigh, Neil took one last look from the hilltop, wishing he could somehow capture God's painting and keep the sight with him forever. Then he put one foot in front of the other and started for the small town in the distance. His feet were tired and sore, yet the good shoes he wore kept them blister free. He had been traveling far to long the last year, he knew it was time to put it to and end. Make up some fake identity, and try to settle down once more. What if someone recognizes me? Questions formed in his head, making him more uneasy than ever. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of his past life, then he continued down the road to the town.
The town was smaller than most he had passed along the way. Small and quiet, Neil thought as he came closer. Another couple minutes and he would be upon the town. With every step the worry forming in his mind, grew and grew. The last time he had decided to settle down in a small town, where no one would recognize his face and so he could start new, things happened that he realized he would never be able to forget. No matter how hard he tried, the faces of his now dead wife still haunted him. He believed they would haunt him until the end of his days, no matter how hard he tried to put the past behind him.

***
There was only one Inn in the town, which didn't suprise Neil considering how small it was. The Kalka Inn looked cozy from the outside, cozy and small, just like the rest of everything here. There were only two floors, the main floor and a level above it probably where the kept the rooms. A stables was located to the side of the Inn for the horses, which Neil kept in mind in case he decided to buy a horse before continuing on to the next town. A horse would make things faster, yet at the same time Neil liked the idea of walking slow whereever he wanted, enjoying nature. It wasn't as if I have any place I could stay for too long anyhow, he thought to himself, me being on the run and all. No matter where Neil went he was always reminded of the crimes he had commited. Neil pushed the thought of his past behind him and focused on the present. Shrugging the bag slung across his shoulder into a more comfortable postion on his back, Neil walked up the few steps leading to the door and went inside. The warm homey smell of baking sweet rolls greeted Neil as he stepped through the door and walked up the the main desk. Behind the desk, with his back to Neil, was a tall man with graying hair, sorting letters.
"Excuse me sir, by any chance would ya have a room for a storyteller such as myself, to sleep a wink in?" Neil asked as he stood a foot or so away from the counter, his hat turned low just in case someone might chance to recognize him. The man turned and eyed Neil up and down for a few moments. Awkward under the scrutiny, Neil himself looked at his appearance. He looked more like a vagabond man living on the street than a storyteller. His clothes were worn down and a faded brown, in some places ripped. From his cap to his shoes, as well as his face, he looked worn out and fatiged. Storytellers usually were poor, but they still wore better clothing than that of which Neil had on.
"A storyteller you say?" he asked, his voice not holding suspicion but interest in who was asking for a room.
Neil nodded, "Yes, sir. I'd be hoping to tell some stories in exchange for some food and room and board, a couple nights." As a custom in Ireland, story tellers never payed for their room and board, or food. It was a known fact that when they told stories they were given it all free, that is if they stayed for two or three days, in one place. Whenever a storyteller came into town it was not uncommon for the entire building where he is telling the story to be full to the brim, bringing more customers for the Inn, since the Inn was also the pub and mail box combined. Everybody loved to hear the stories, and it wasn't often that a storyteller came by.
The innkeeper's brown eyes held a sudden tinge of excitement in Neil's words as he thought of the money he could earn with Neil's stay here. The small price of a room and food for Neil would be nothing compared to the money that would poor in from the listeners, "I'll make you a deal, lad," he spoke, "Ya stay here for one whole week, and your room and food is free during that entire time."
Neil pretended to think on it, even though he already knew the answer, finally after a few moments he nodded, "That'd be a deal, but I'll only be telling stories twice a day. Once in the mornin' and once in the evening." The extra time in the day would be reserved for "house calls". A couple people, with young children usually, would come up to him after the first story and ask if he would do a private one in their homes, and he would agree. For a price of course, that was his only source of income.
The innkeeper nodded quickly, "Ya wouldn't be expected to do any more than just that. You start tonight?" he asked as he grabbed a key off of a peg and set it on the counter for Neil to take.
Neil nodded, "I'd like a bath, if ya would be so kind, and some supper then I'll start a story," he said taking the key of the counter and holding it tight in the palm of his hand.
The man nodded again, this time slowly, "A bath would cost a bit more I'm afraid, the woman doesn't like the job," he winked and pointed his head towards the door leading to the back, probably where him and his wife stayed.
Neil figured the bath wouldn't be free, but he was willing to pay for it, "Of course, I don't mind," he said as he took out his coin purse and took out a couple coins, "Will this do?" he asked.
The innkeeper looked at the coins on the table, then slid them into his hand, "Thank ye kind sir, the bath water will be brung up shortly, your room is the fourth on the left."
Neil thanked the man and then started up the stairs in the corner, he found his room and set his bag down so he could unlock it. Once he unlocked his room and entered he looked around. The room was of medium size, and held a bed, nightstand, which had a lamp and a bible on it, and a small desk, and a bath with room to walk around. Neil set his bag and walking stick in the corner then pulled off his shoes and laid on the bed for a couple minutes. The bed was harder than some he had slept on, but his exhausted body didn't seem to notice. In fact, him being as exhausted as he was, the bed felt like a little piece of heaven down on earth. It had only been, what it seemed like to him, a couple seconds yet was probably more, before there was a knock on the door. Neil inwardly groaned and pushed his half dead legs off the bed and walked to the door, opening it. Standing outside the door was the innkeeper and a small plump woman with blondish gray hair, which Neil assumed was the innkeeper's wife. Both carried wooden pales of steaming water.
"The water ya ordered," the innkeeper spoke as he opened the door.
Neil nodded, "Thank you," he said opening the door wider for them to come through, "Ya can just put them over by the bath, I'll dump 'em in when I'm ready."
The two did as he had said, the innkeeper's wife never saying a word, then they retreated back down the stairs and Neil shut the door. Turning back to the hot water, a smile formed on his face and he poured the hot water into the tub and began to undress.

***
Refreshed and clean from his long day of traveling, Neil went downstairs for some supper. The innkeeper saw him coming down the stairs and gestured to the table nearest to the counter, where a plate of food was waiting for him. He didn't see the innkeeper's wife, but he guessed she was already out and about telling the entire town that there was a story teller in town. Neil smiled at the older man and sat himself down on the table with his food.
"I don't believe I caught ya name lad," the innkeeper spoke as Neil took his place.
"Kieran," Neil said making up the name in a split second.
The innkeeper mused it over for a second before he nodded, satisfied with Neil's answer, "Jack Harkin at your service, would ye like to offer the before meals prayer or shall I?"
Neil was unaccostomed to praying before meals, it was one of the things he had stopped doing when his wife died. Why would you pray before meals and thank God for giving the food to ya, if you almost died trying to get it? he had wondered when he lived on the street. Not wanting to offend Jack and say no, Neil replied, "Ye can Jack, I don't think I can remember the words."
Jack nodded understandinly at Neil, then bowed his head and prayed, "Dear Lord, heavenly Father and Brother threw Our Blessed Lady, we ask of ya to bless the meal before us. We thank Ye for bringing this storyteller to this town, we thank Ye for everything Ya have done fer us. Bless Ya dear son and show him the path back to Ya. Amen." Jack lifted his head and unfolded his hands.
Neil also unfolded his hands and without another word, he dug into the food before him, hungry from lack of food on the journey.
Once he had finished eating, Neil sat back in his chair, with his belly full. Jack chuckled as Neil burped and excused himself, "Burping lets me' wife know ya liked the meal."
Neil smiled and thanked him for the food, before asking, "I know this goes against my storytelling nature, considerin' we never settle down ya know. But I was wonderin' if ya know of anyone who might need a hand, ya know..working wise."
The old man pondered his words for a moment before asking, "What kinda work ya lookin' ta get?"
"Somethin' that I'll be able ta settle down with, somethin' I can raise a family on."
Jack nodded, understaning what it was that Neil was asking, was there a place for him in this small little town. The man eyed Neil again, before coming to a conclusion, "Ya seem like a right good fella, ma'be we have some work 'round here for ya ta try ya hand in. I be righty fine with letten ya stay on at the Inn doing odd jobs, till ya can find somethin' a lil' more permantent."
Neil let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding in, before replying, "I'd be mighty grateful to ya and ya wife, seems like I came to the right town after all."
Jack smiled, happy with his decison as he walked over and shook Neil's hand. A firm handshake, promising Neil a place to belong, in exchange for some work. Neil shook his hand back, promising his best of working at all times.