Short Story Collection

1. Merry Doyle (The Knight of Slaughtaverty Prologue)

Three boys disappeared from Slaughtaverty, one after the other, just in the last two weeks, and four more before that. Did the mist swallow them too, not leaving behind even so much as a limb or a shred of clothing? The thought makes Merry's empty stomach clench in fear. She is not a nine-year-old boy like Timmy Collins or a boy of eight like Sam O'Neill. Her little brother, Uilliam Doyle, was only six...

Merry and her siblings are the only ones still looking for him.

Parents are locking their young in their homes after dark, and some won't even let their children out alone during the day either. Her father is the only parent relieved to have one less mouth to feed. Merry is surprised that he hasn't sent them all out to be disappeared...

She takes some comfort in the fact that she's a girl. At 13, she's past the marrying age, according to her father. He says it's because no man would have the useless, ugly likes of her, and now she's too old. She doesn't understand what he means. She's as pretty as Madrigal Byrne, if not more so... At least, that is what Maddy used to say... and Maddy is already 16 and was just about to be married.

She said the only difference between them is that Madrigal has a big, fat dowry. Merry never agreed that it was the only difference between them. Maddy has hair like spun gold, eyes as bright as a morning sky, and her skin is unscarred.

Her father is the local apothecary, looked up to by one and all, while Merry's father is a drunkard with four sheep and no land of his own. The wool he sheers from the sheep saves his six motherless urchins from starving to death. It does not save them from suffering under his fists, though. Merry's eldest brother, Séamus' apprenticeship at the blacksmith and her sister, Taillte, scrubbing floors for others are what really keep them all alive.

Merry has wild hair the colour of a sunrise and eyes a mesmerising bright blue (Madrigal's generous description). The jagged scar stretching from her temple to her jaw, from when her father drunkenly shoved her to fall, hitting her face on the ragged edge of the hearth when she was five, could've been overlooked by suitors if it came with at least some dowry or inheritance.

About a month ago, Madrigal was about to marry Donald Murphy, the richest man in their community, with his small patch of land (payment for services rendered to the lord of the manor) and his two horses.

Merry helped her dearest friend prepare for the wedding, dressing her in white lace as delicate as a spider's web. Maddy let her try the dress on first; it was too big, as malnourished Merry hadn't developed any womanly curves yet, but it felt like a whisper against her skin, and for the first time in her life, she'd believed that she, too, might be a little bit beautiful.

Once Madrigal was ready, her hair all set with flowers like a princess from the fairy tales the old folks tell at festivals, Merry ran the short distance from the Byrne's cottage to the chapel to await the bride's arrival with all the other excited guests. Weddings are a significant event in Slaughtaverty.

Madrigal never arrived.

Donald was heartbroken for two weeks, and then he married Sinead Dunne, the blacksmith's feisty daughter. Merry never believed the stories that Madrigal ran off with a group of Pavees because she was sweet on a young Traveller who fought for money in the town square... or was taken by them by force. Neither do Madrigal's parents. They are still looking for their daughter, even though she's been gone for weeks now, and the Pavees took off around the time of her disappearance.

A branch cracks near Merry, stopping her feet, and she turns to her left to find the source of the sound, scolding herself for getting lost in thought when she should be trying to figure out where she is in relation to the town. The snapping of twigs sounded too harsh to be caused by the ram, and the sound did not come from the ground; it came from about her shoulder's height.