Page 97 of Steel Rain

There was a shocked gasp from the crowd, and I clenched my fists, wondering what route Eoghan would take in his little story telling. What would he tell them?

“They’ve run to join the Italians, who they were conspiring with.”

Again, more shocked gasps, and a flutter of women’s pearls as they clutched them close. Only us at the head table seemed unmoved by this telling.

“We have been preparing for this war for years now,” Eoghan said, his glass swishing in his hand. “Eugenio Durante will not stop until every one of our loved ones is under his boot. But we won’t let that happen.”

Men pounded fists on the table, rumbling with their uttered agreement.

“We win this war, then it’s over,” Eoghan’s voice got quiet. “We win against Eugenio Durante, and it ends. All of it. We bring peace to our families.”

He went to Dairo’s side, clapping a hand on his back.

“With Alastair’s wedding to the bratva heiress,” he was using Dairo’s proper name, “we brought a truce between ourselves and the Russians. Then with the end of our fights with the Italians, we can finally bring an end to all of the wars. We can be farmers, laborers, businessmen, artists, artisans … we can stop being soldiers and start tilling the land.”

His poetry was lovely. That fancy schooling he was so proud of was obviously paying off now.

“That has been the goal with which I recruited every one of you.” Eoghan looked at every man in the eye, before coming back between me and Sinead. “The wedding gift I will give to my little sister will be peace for her, and her children, and their children after that. An end to all these wars. An end to us dodging the authorities. When this war is over, we stop the old way, and plant the new.”

He went to his belt and pulled out that iron blade, and dug the point into his palm. A single, solitary point. When blood was drawn, a drop pooling from the center of his lifeline, down towards his wrist, he raised his hand palm out to the assembled audience.

“We shall beat our swords into ploughshares, and our spears into pruning hooks,” He was quoting the book of Isaiah. It was a passage about the ending of all wars.

He was looking right at Sin as he said it, and she was looking at him, her lips parted. Something was passing between the two of them. Something quiet, but deep. Was this a promise about Kira?

Eoghan stood silent, as he waited. What was he waiting for? I wasn’t sure. But when my wife nodded, he lifted his glass.

“That is my vow to these two,” he finally turned his eyes from my wife, and looked on at the crowd. “And to every one of you.”

The applause from everyone at the reception was immediate, and enthusiastic. The roar of approval, the uplifted voices.

This was Eoghan Green’s true power. Not in his insanity, or his ruthlessness. It was in his ability to act like a God among men. He had that rare quality that made leaders into icons, and philosophers into Messiahs. With a fist in the air, he could lead an Army into battle, and when he chose to, he could cry havoc, and let loose the dogs of war.

Eoghan and Kira’s story begins in Iron Blade

Epilogue

Sin

Two years later

I’mfat.Myfeethurt. I hate my life.

I watched from the sidelines as my husband ran a new set of recruits through their drills. No longer just a brood of Irish, training for a war, Ajax had a brood of pre-teens, there to learn how to fight off bullies. A few had dreams of making it to the octagon. Some even had that kind of potential.

We were standing in the brand newDog Fight Gym. The warehouse was a gift, courtesy of Eoghan Green, in the peaceful, picturesque Upstate town of Mourningkill. The downtown was old, large, benefitting from having been on the Hudson River, in the middle of the logging boom, then later, a major stop on the rails. Now, it was an easy drive from Albany, Saratoga and all the Upstate cities of interest.

The real estate was right in the middle of bustling downtown, nestled between the bookstore, hardware store and the numerous restaurants and a nearby farmer’s market.

Our apartment on top of the gym was more luxurious than some New York City penthouses. All brand new in shining stainless steel. A sign of gratitude for what my husband and I had done for the Greens in their war against the Italians.

And, really, it was the least he could do.

Ajax looked at me, as he went from group to group, showing them how to move their hands and feet, how to strike, how to use their bodies to align for the most effective movement. Each time, his eyes drifted to my growing belly.

He didn’t like it when I was out of his sight. Not even for a moment.

But I wasn’t allowed to fight anymore. Not until after the baby was out.

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