TITLE: The Call
CHALLENGE: Take a Myth and put the boys in it.  This also fits the
May 2002 challenge.
UNIVERSE: OW
MAJOR CHARACTERS: Ezra, Vin, Buck
RATING: PG13
ARCHIVE: Yes
SPOILERS: None
NOTES:  This is the second story in my Roots series.  Eventually I will update my website so the Roots stories and plans for the future will be in order.  This is Ezra's second story.  BTW- I'm still looking for writers.  : )  Marcella first appeared in my story "An Irish Lady".

The names Fionuir and Lonan are pronounced (FYUN oor) and (LUH nawn) More notes about the myth at the end.  I did have to make some changes to the myth, I'll tell you what they are in my final note.
AUTHOR: Lady Catherine Dunbar (Kelly)
EMAIL: kellyg49@hotmail.com

"So, Ezra, do you think you could put in a good word for me with Marcella?" Buck asked, wiggling his eyebrows to the gambler who rode beside him.

"Reduced to getting reinforcements, Buck?" Vin teased.

Buck looked across Ezra at the tracker in feigned hurt.  "Now, Vin, you know I don't need any help with the ladies."

"Oh, yeah?" JD said, turning in his saddle.  "Then why do you keep pestering Ezra to talk to Marcella for you?"

"Maybe it's because she won't give him the time of day," Nathan commented over his shoulder.

"Now, that's plain untrue Nate," Buck said.  "Miss Marcy is warming up to the Wilmington charm."

"You just need the 'Patrick' charm to warm her completely, huh?" Josiah suggested.  They all could not help but smile at the reference to Ezra's middle name.  Marcella called him Patrick and only Patrick.  It was still slightly strange to hear him called by his middle name, which none of them had ever known.  Hell, they had not even known he was part Irish.

"Course not!" Buck stated in indignation.  "I just thought, oh what the hell, just forget it."

"Do you want my advice, Mr. Wilmington?" Ezra asked.

Buck brightened up a bit.  "About Marcella?  Sure Ez."

Ezra leaned forward as if sharing a secret, then in a loud whisper he said, "Give up."

Everyone burst into laughter, even Chris at the front of the line.

That is, everyone but Buck, who did not seemed amused at all. "Ah come on Ez, you can't seriously expect me to give up on such a pretty filly."

"Apparently not.  Fine, Mr. Wilmington, if you are determined to continue in your attempt of Miss Sullivan I will give you some real advice."  Ezra paused for effect.  "Stop trying," he said with an amused smirk.

"What the Hell, Ezra?!  I thought you were going to give me some real advice."

"He is,  Buck," Vin said

The cowboy looked at Vin in cautious curiosity.

Vin continued with, "What Ez is saying is stop trying so hard.  Maybe turn off the Wilmington charm or whatever for awhile. Or at least don't have it on so high."

"Now the how the hell do you expect me to do that?  It just comes natural."

"Sure it does, Buck," JD said, enjoying the opportunity to tease the older man.

"Shut up, kid."

"Vin and Ezra have a point Buck," Josiah said.  "Miss Marcella is not one for charms and special attention."

"As trite as it may sound," Ezra added, "be yourself."

Buck stared at Ezra hard as if he had lost his mind.  Then he cocked his head to one side in thought.  "I may take you up on that idea, Ez."

"Wonderful.  Now perhaps you can go into Bransville without having a pitcher of beer poured unceremoniously onto your head."

The group of men chuckled at the memory of the Irish barkeep pouring beer all over Buck.

"Now come on, boys, Miss Marcy was just showing her affection."

"Oh, God, he's gone delusional again," Nathan said with a smile.

"Maybe you should give him some of that tea of your's," JD suggested.

While Buck made a face, Nathan's smile grew as he contemplated JD's suggestion.

"You know kid, that might not be a bad idea."  The others agreed as Buck pretended to hack at the mere idea of drinking Nathan's herbs. Chris simply shook his head at what was going on behind him.  At least the ride home from Bransville was never dull.

They had been tracking some bank robbers for a few days and had just returned them to Judge Travis in Eagle Bend the day before.  On the way home they had stopped at Bransville to spend the night.  As usual they had headed straight for the Wild Irish Rose, the saloon owned and run by Marcella Sullivan, the saloon girl Ezra had helped two months earlier.  With the money he had given her she had purchased the saloon and now ran it with a cook and a few waitresses.  The doors of the Rose were always open to the seven, as were the rooms upstairs.  Marcella had proven to be a grand business woman and the Rose was always teaming with patrons, especially immigrants who were welcomed at few other establishments. As usual she had greeted them warmly, giving them their favorite table.  Over the last few months she had warmed to the men, letting down her guard. 

"Perhaps not all the English are so bad," she had admitted to Ezra.  Though she had come to like Buck, she still held off his advances with fierce determination because she had no interest in his proposals.  Though she did like all the men, Ezra and Vin were her favorites.  She was always sure to hide a few pieces of pie in their saddlebags and there was always a bottle of fine Kentucky bourbon behind the bar for Ezra.

They had left after a leisurely breakfast, Marcella giving Ezra a basket with a fine lunch.  When he had protested she had slapped his hand playfully saying, " 'Tis no trouble Patrick.  Besides you all could stand to put some meat on your bones.  Except for maybe Buck," she had added with a playful wink.

After the hard chase of the past few days, Chris had decided to set a leisurely pace back to Four Corners.  Around noon the men stopped at a shaded clearing for lunch.  Ezra dismounted Chaucer, taking a swig from his flask. 

"Quite a lovely place to stop for the afternoon," he commented.

"Gotta agree with Ez there," Buck said as he climbed down off of Clyde. 

"There's a creek near here, right Vin?" Chris asked.

The tracker nodded. 

"Fine.  You and Buck take the horses down to the creek."

Buck sighed heavily at being given such a task and JD was not making it any better with the pleased grin on his face.  For once he had not been given horse duty. 

"Got a problem with that Wilmington?" Chris asked sharply, humor glinting in his eyes. 

"Course not," Buck grumbled.  "Why would I have a problem?" he asked him self as he took hold of Toby, Badger, Clyde and Prophecy's reins.  "Come on Tanner.  Let's go so I can get some grub."

"Right behind yeah, captain," Vin said, rolling his eyes.  Leading Peso, Job and Chaucer, he followed Buck through the tress and down to the creek.

"What do ya'll say about hiding the food from Buck and claiming we ate it all?" JD suggested.

Ezra smiled wickedly.  "I like the way you think Mr. Dunne."

Vin and Buck made their way carefully through the wooded trail down to the creek that was hidden by beautiful oaks.

As they reached the water, the two men heard what sounded like sobbing. 

Buck looked over his shoulder and exchanged a look with Vin.  Without a word the men picked up their pace.  They pushed through the trees and when the foliage fell back to reveal the creek, the source of the sobbing became clear.

Sitting on a rock a foot above the water on the other side of the small creek was a young woman bent over her laundry.  She was washing what appeared to be white blanket and was sobbing as she did so, deep wracking sobs that shook her small frame. 

Buck handed the reins to Vin and stepped tentatively towards the edge of the water, only a few feet from where the girl sat.

"Miss?"

The girl looked up sharply, her hands pulling up the blanket from the water.  She was a young woman in her early twenties of a small frame, and was probably no more than five feet tall, dressed in a green country dress.  The girl had large dark eyes that were red rimmed and her pale freckled cheeks were tear stained.  Her long red hair fell over her shoulders and she seemed unconcerned that bits of it had fallen from the green ribbon that kept half of her hair up. She stared at Buck with her large eyes, which were full of only grief. 

The two men just stared at the little woman whose eyes spoke of unspeakable suffering.  This was a girl who had seen more than anyone her age should.  After a moment Buck found his voice and said softly, "You all right ma'am?"

The girl stared at him for a moment, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.  She seemed to be deciding whether or not he could be trusted with her secret grief.  Buck must have been seen as trustworthy for she answered in a soft lilting Irish brogue. 

"Aye.  I'm sorry to have disturbed you gents."

"Oh, you didn't disturb us Darlin'," Buck said softly as he hopped across the creek. 

The girl watched him carefully.  She was not scared, simply interested in this seemingly kind cowboy.

"Did somebody hurt you ma'am?" Vin asked, already looking around for any signs that someone had hurried away at their coming.

The girl shook her head, her eyes widening.  "Oh no, Sir.  No one laid a finger on me."

"Then why were you cryin' honey?"

She wiped at her eyes and sat up, trying to push her hair into some semblance of order.  "A member of my family is going to die, Sir."  She said it simply, so matter of factly, as if it were already set in stone.

Buck's face softened in sympathy as he laid a comforting arm around the girl's shoulders. 

"I'm so sorry Darlin'.  Who is it?"

She bit her lip, the mere question seeming to conjure up her loved one's image.  She took a deep breath and thought a moment before answering, "A very dear lad."

It was an odd answer, but Buck chocked it up to grief.  Figuring it was her son, he made small circles on her back to give her some sort of comfort.  To lose a son at her age, good Lord, he thought.  The boy had to be just a little tyke.

"Ma'am."

The two both looked up at Vin, who still stood holding the horses reins.

"Aye, Sir?"

"We got a healer with us.  He ain't a doctor, but he's damn near close.  He could look at your boy for you."

She smiled softly, looking at Vin with kind, but sad eyes.  "That's very kind of you, sir, but no one can help my wee one."

"Now, that's no way to talk, honey," Buck said.  "Nothing's over till it's over.  Right Vin?"

The tracker nodded.  "That's right ma'am."

"Now, I'm sure Nate could help him," Buck said. 

He was so full of confidence that girl almost believed him. But then, just as quickly as she thought that, she shook her head.

"I'm sure your friend is a grand healer, and I thank you both, but trust me, no one can help my lad.  His fate is sealed."  Here she sniveled and wiped again at her eyes. 

Buck looked down at the woman, his heart breaking to see such a pretty little woman who had obviously faced so much tragedy already facing the death of her son.

"It's ok darlin'," he said, pulling her closer.  "Now, you listen to me, honey," he said in a stern voice.  "You can't go giving up so easy.  Why I thought the Irish were supposed to be a hardy people who never quit."

At this she looked up sharply, her eyes glinting with a new emotion.  Buck was pretty sure it was hope.  She looked at him a moment before smiling slightly.

"You are right, Mr. . ."

"Buck Wilmington, ma'am.  And this here's my friend Vin Tanner."

Vin touched the brim of his hat.  "Ma'am."

She smiled at him.  "Tis grand to meet you gents, finally."

"Finally?" Buck asked.

The woman looked at him sharply, had let something slip.  "I mean, I've heard so much about you gents.  You're part of the magnificent seven, right?"

Buck nodded, puffing with pride.  "That we are sugar."

"Well, I see the stories did not exaggerate about you're generous nature."

"Well, thank you honey.  Does that mean you'll let Nate see to your boy?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Her smile instantly disappeared.  "I'm sorry, Buck.  I can't."

"But why?" he asked.  Even if the boy was as sick as she made him sound, Nate could at least ease his pain.  "It never hurts to try." The hope danced in her eyes for but a moment, before disappearing.  "Some times it does, Buck."  She smiled softly at him, as if in pity of his optimism.  Then she flew into action. 

"Now, I must be going, sirs.  Thank you so much for your concern."

Before Buck could flinch, she was gathering her laundry and putting it in her basket.

"But, Miss. . . ."

"Fionuir," she said as she hurriedly stood up, putting the basket on her hip.  "Just Fionuir."

"Ma'am, it really wouldn't be. . ."

"Tis been grand to meet you gentlemen.  I do hope we meet again under better skies.  Good bye."  Without saying another word she disappeared through the trees, faster than they would expect a woman with a full basket to be able to move.

Buck started to follow her when Vin stopped him.  "Let her go, Buck."

"But Vin, the kid may be dyin' and she won't let us help her.  Does that make any sense to you?"

"No it don't.  But chasing her through the woods ain't gonna help neither."

"Just don't seem right, leavin' her alone on all."

"I know, but you can't force her to let us help her.  It's her kid."

"Geez, Vin, you're startin' to sound like Ez."

"What I ever do to you Bucklin?"

Buck chuckled softly.  "God knows."

Vin smiled and looked off in the direction where Fionuir had gone.  "Just give her some time Buck.  Might not want to admit she needs help.  She knows where to find us if she changes her mind."

"You're right Tanner.  Hope she does."

"Me too, Buck."

PART 2:

Fionuir walked quickly through the trees, her basket of clothes on her hip.  She did not give a thought to the branches grabbing at her skirts.  She had much too much on her mind.

She hurried through the trees until they slowly gave way to a field. The girl started towards a lone oak near a fence line, her eyes narrowing when she saw no one around it.

"Can't he be on time at least once?" she asked to herself.  Usually Lonan's tardiness did not bother her too greatly, but she had much on her mind today.  What the dark haired cowboy had said kept ringing in her ears.  Nothing's over till it's over.  You can't go giving up so easy.  Why I thought the Irish were supposed to be a hardy people who never quit.

She smiled as she reached the oak.  Maybe he was right, maybe this time she could save one of her beloved family.


Vin and Buck quickly watered the horses and returned to the clearing to find lunch in full swing.

"What took you two so long?" JD asked as he took a bite of Marcella's famous fried chicken.

"Where'd you two go?  Colorado?" Josiah asked as he grabbed a biscuit.

Buck and Vin exchanged glances.  "Well, we had some unexpected trouble down at the creek."

Chris instantly straightened, his hand going to his gun.  "Trouble?  What kind of trouble?"

"Not that kind cowboy," Vin said.  He then nodded towards Buck, who went into the whole story.

"Why wouldn't she let us help her?" JD asked when Buck was done.

"Appears she's already accepted her son's death," Josiah said.

"So it would seem Mr. Sanchez," he said as he buttered a biscuit.

"Don't get all worried there, Ez," Nathan said.

"That is not a concern, Mr. Jackson," Ezra replied, taking a bite of his properly buttered biscuit.

Nathan rolled his eyes.

"There ain't nothing we can do," Chris said.  While he would have done anything to try and save his son, he could understand someone not wanting to grasp onto what sounded like false hope.  It would be like the child dying twice, and that was just too much to bear. Chris had lost one child once and was still trying to come to bear with that. 

"I must agree with Mr. Larabee," Ezra said in all seriousness.  "As much as we all abhor the death of a child, it is the lady's choice."  Ezra hated seeing a child suffer and if that was the case with Miss Fionuir's son, then perhaps his mother was making the right choice by just letting him go.  

JD looked at his friends in astonishment, they really were not going to do anything.  "You guys aren't just going to sit here, are you?" he asked standing up, a bit of hurt in his voice.

"We can't force her to let me help, JD," Nathan said.  "As much as I hate to admit it, Ezra's got a point."

"Can I have that in writing please?"

Nathan shot Ezra a dirty look, which was only returned by a Standish grin.

"The others are right, JD," Josiah said. 

"Yeah kid," Buck said, walking over and putting his arm around the kid's shoulder.  "Sides, if she changes her mind, she knows where Four Corners is and I'm sure old Ez could charm her into letting Nate help."

Ezra rolled his eyes.  "If I could charm people as easily as you make it seem Mr. Wilmington, I would not be working with you gentlemen for five dollars a week."

Buck just laughed, slapping JD on the shoulder.

"Ya  gotta admit Ez, you do have a way with Irish girls," Vin said as he took a seat beside the gambler

"You become the acquaintance of one Irish lady and suddenly you are the charmer of all such girls." Ezra said dryly, before taking a sip of his brandy.   

"I guess ya'll are right," JD finally agreed, reluctantly.

"Course we are," Buck said.  "Now let's eat.  I'm starving."


They returned to Four Corners that evening and after seeing to their horses they adjourned to the saloon and their usual table.  Inez quickly served them and they were enjoying their drinks when a man approached their table.

"Excuse me lads."  The man was in his forties with dark eyes and hair and spoke with a strong brogue.  "I hate to interrupt boy-os but are you the gents known as the magnificent seven?"

"Why yes we are Sir, how can we help you?" Josiah asked.

"Oh, I don't need any help, me buck-o, I'm just doing as I was told."

Puzzlement crossed the faces of the seven and the man hurried to explain. 

"You see, I'm a friend of Marcy's and she practically ordered me that if I were ever in Four Corners I had to come meet Patrick and his friends."

Ezra's eyes lit up at the mention of Marcella.  "It is a pleasure to meet a friend of Miss Sullivan's," he said, extending his hand.

The man smiled as he shook Ezra's hand.  "You must be Patrick."

"Ezra P. Standish as your service, Sir."

"Yeah needn't be calling a lowly farmer, Sir, me boy-o.  I'm William Gleeson and it's grand to meet you Mr. Standish."

"Let me introduce you to my co-workers."  One by one introduced at each of the seven who nodded and greeted the Irishman.

"Tis grand to finally meet you gents.  Marcy's told me so much about you."

Buck leaned forward at this, a grin on his face.  "Oh, did she now?"

"Oh, she did, especially 'bout you me boy-o."

"Oh really?  What did she say?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"That you're full of hot air and a mouse with half an ounce of sense wouldn't go out with you."

The table erupted in laughter, except for Buck, who just stared at Gleeson. 

"Marcella's already knows all about you Buck," JD said between chuckles.

"Shut up kid," Buck said, knocking off his bowler.

"Hey Buck!" he yelled, bending down to pick it up.

"Please have a seat Mr. Gleeson," Ezra said, gesturing to an empty chair.

"Thank you lad," he said with a smile as he took a seat.

"Inez?"

The barkeep quickly appeared, hand on her hip, smile on her face.

"Yes, Senor Standish?"

"Could you get a beer for Mr. Gleeson?"

Inez looked over at the Irishman, who smiled and touched his hand to his cap.  "Of course.  Be just a moment Senor."

"Thank you, dearie," he said.

Inez nodded with a smile and went to the bar.

"So, Mr. Gleeson, what brings you to Four Corners?" Nathan asked.

"Oh, I just moved into a homestead bout half a day's ride from here and came into town to buy some supplies, and it's William me boy-o," he said with a wink.  Inez then appeared with his beer.

"Thank you dearie," he said with a smile.

"You're welcome Senor," she said before moving away.

"So, Will, how long you been in America?" JD asked.

Gleeson turned to look at the young man and took a sip of his beer.  "'bout two years.  I settled in Boston first, but didn't find the city to me likin', so I came out west.  I was lucky to find a somebody willin' to sell me some land."

"Why?" JD asked.  "I would think people would want to sell their land, specially if they're not farming it."

The six other men exchanged glances, knew exactly what Gleeson was referring to.  It was the same problem Marcy had run into when she had tried to buy the saloon in Bransville.  The owner had not wanted to sell to a woman first of all, but mostly he did not want to sell to an Irishwoman.  I won't be known as the man who sold to an Irish Papist, he had stated.  Well, Marcella had not let that phase her and she found a hotel room in town.  A few days later the man had found her, telling her that he had changed his mind.  When she asked why, he admitted that all the other potential buyers were no longer interested and he finally accepted her offer.  When she had told the story to the boys, Nathan wondered out loud what had made the men change their minds.

Marcella had put her hands on her hips and said, "Well perhaps they were under the impression that Mr. Williams was a Catholic.  Though I have no idea where they got that idea," she had said with a mischievous glint in her eye and a wink.  Buck had spewed bear all over the table and the rest of the men had burst into laughter.  Marcella had simply smiled and winked once more at Ezra, who returned it.  That a girl, Marcy, he had thought.

Apparently JD had forgotten the story.  He looked at Gleeson expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Well, Lad," William said, searching for the right words.  "I say lucky, because it's such a grand piece of land and so near a town.  I'm surprised they didn't want to hold onto it."

This seemed to satisfy JD and he moved onto another subject.  "How'd you meet Marcy?"

"I was in Eagle Bend a few months back, when I just arrived in the area, and I ran into Marcy in the saloon.  I had not seen a fellow countryman in quite a while and we fell into a conversation.  Turned out she and I are from the same county in Ireland.  We've been friends ever since.  She is a feisty lass."

"That sir, is an understatement," Ezra said.

Gleeson chuckled.  "You are right there Patrick.  Fiesty's too soft a word for Marcy."  The men all nodded in agreement.  They had not yet created a word to describe Marcella.

"How long you stayin' in town William?" Josiah asked.

"Oh, just until tomorrow afternoon.  Don't want ta leave my homestead alone fur too long."

The men all understood that logic.  A lone homestead was always at risk for trespassers and other such problems.

"Oh, before I forget to ask laddies, is that a Catholic church over at the end of town?"

The men all turned to look at Josiah.  In actuality they were not sure what denomination Josiah's church was, it was just a half finished church that he held a service in every Sunday.

"Well, I do short services on Sunday since I'm the closest thing to a preacher this town has.  All denominations are welcome."

William thought about this a moment and nodded to himself as if to say 'I'll believe that when I see it'.

"Well, I was looking for a father, for I must admit I haven't had confession in quit a few weeks."

"Well, you do confessions, don't yeah Josiah?" JD asked.

Josiah looked lost for words for a moment when he finally said, "That was just once JD and I'm not exactly authorized to do 'em."

"But are you willin' to do 'em?" William asked.

Josiah looked up at him and the older men locked eyes and seemed to come to an agreement for Josiah nodded.

"Grand," Will said with a smile.  "I'll see you next Saturday evening."

"I'll be sure to make sure I don't have a patrol," he said, giving a pointed look to Chris. 

"You seem to be free," Chris said.

Josiah just smiled and shook his head.  A comfortable silence fell over the men as they enjoyed their beers.

Suddenly, a woman's shriek that sounded like death its self ended the beautiful silence.  The heads of everyone in the saloon snapped up sharply, their eyes darting around to try a pinpoint the source of the sound.  For a moment no one moved, everyone thinking it was the figment of their imaginations. 

Then the horrific shriek split the air again.  All eight men at the table jumped up, their hands going for their guns, their chairs falling back.  Inez went to the back of the bar and reached for her shotgun.  The few other customers ran out the door.  Before the eight men could move again, the cry broke the night once more.  It lasted the longest of all three and ended in a blood curdling cry. 
As it ended nobody moved, waiting to see if the cry would come again. 

After a moment JD whispered, "What was that?"  His face was nearly white and he had to keep his voice from shaking.

Chris did not bother answering.  "Spread out around the saloon.  Let's find her.  Stay here Inez," he ordered.  The men moved instantly, wondering what horror could have occurred to someone for them to make such a cry.

Vin left by the back entrance, out into the alley, looking for any sign of a stranger's presence.  He heard footsteps behind him and soon a light was illuminating his path.

"Find anything Mr. Tanner?"

Vin shook his head.

"How far do yeah think a cry like that could carry?" they heard Buck question as he came around the side of the saloon, gun drawn.

"Long way," Vin said as he examined the ground.  "But that cry sounded really close, like it came from around the saloon."

"Josiah, JD, search the main street," Larabee ordered.  "Ezra, Vin, the allies."  The men quickly went off to search for the source of the cry



"Well?" Chris asked as Vin and Ezra entered the now empty saloon. 

"Not a damn thing," Vin said shaking his head in confusion and disgust.  "Not a single track, not a piece of cloth, no blood, nothing."

"What of you gentlemen?" Ezra asked needlessly.

"Nothing," Josiah said. 

"We searched everywhere," Nathan said.  "No one outside of the saloon heard the cry.  Nothing."

"How could no one have heard it?" Buck asked.  "I would think you could hear it all the way to Mexico."

Everyone else just nodded as they sat in confused silence.  The men had searched for the source of the cry for nearly three hours and come up with nothing.  What was most odd was that no one outside of the saloon had heard the cry or had any idea of what they had been talking about.

Ezra took a swig from his flask as he thought about where the call could have come from.

"Maybe it was an animal," JD suggested.

Vin shook his head.  "No animal sounds like that."

"Heard cries like that during the war," Nathan added quietly.

Josiah nodded.  "Indeed.  Only a human can make a cry of such pain.  Poor woman," he said muttering a prayer.

At Josiah's statement Ezra looked up from his reverie and his brow crinkled in thought, his head cocked to one side.

"What is it, Ez?" Vin asked, drawing everyone's attention to the gambler. 

"Mr. Sanchez is right, only a human can make such a cry of pain, but I don't think it was physical pain."

"Huh?" JD asked, not following.

"The cry was one of pain, definitely, but it held notes of grief, like a mourning wail."

The men all thought on that before the older men nodded.  "I was once heard Cherokee women make a cry like that when their husbands died," Vin said.

"I've heard those cries at funerals," Josiah added.  "Never one like that, but close."

"The sound of great loss," Ezra mused. 

"What do you make of it, Will?" Buck asked the Irishman, who had remained silent since the conversation had begun.  He did not look up at Buck, nor did he answer him, he just continued to stare at the ground.

"Will?" Buck repeated.

"Mr. Gleeson," Ezra said tentatively, taking a step towards Mr. Gleeson. 

When he did look up at Ezra, his eyes were wide with fear and realization.  He said ever so softly, "The Banshee." Ezra just stared at the man, who seemed to believe completely in what he was saying.  A Banshee?  Ridiculous.  Yes it would explain the lack of clues and the shriek, but something that did not exist was no explanation.

"What's that?" JD asked.  Whatever it was, it scared the crap out of Gleeson.

"A Banshee's a creature in Irish myth JD," Josiah explained.  "It is the specter of a woman who lost her love and who now travels the land shrieking in her grief."

"Exactly, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra said, not taking his eyes off of Gleeson.  "But you forgot one very important part of the tale.  The banshee only cries to foretell the death of a person."

"Foretell their death?" JD asked in morbid curiosity.

"Indeed.  If the banshee's call is heard three nights in a row in a house, then on the third night someone in the household will die."

"Really?" JD said, eyes wide.

"It's just a myth, kid," Buck said.

"Exactly Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said.  "It is a simple myth."

"Tis no myth lad," Gleeson said.  "A son of Eire should know better."  The fear in his voice was now accompanied with disappointment.

"Who's Eire?" JD asked, slightly confused. 

"It's the ancient name for Ireland, JD," Josiah explained.

"And I do know better, Mr. Gleeson," Ezra said.  "I know better than to believe in the myths of an ancient culture that have become no more than bed time stories to scare children."

"You can't honestly believe that story, Will?" Buck asked, humor in his voice.

The comment earned him a hard glare from Gleeson.  "I do, boy-o.  I've heard that call before."  His voice fell and his eyes dropped to the ground.  "Heard it when my Molly passed.  I just never thought I'd hear it in this country."

"And you did not hear it tonight," Ezra insisted.

"You continue to doubt your own ears, Patrick," Gleeson said.  "And your blood.  A true son of Eire always recognizes the Banshee's cry."

"Well, then perhaps I am not a true son of Eire," Ezra said sharply, his voice almost a growl.  Without another word, he turned on his heel and was out the door before anyone could stop him.

The remaining seven men exchanged glances and before anyone said anything, Tanner was out the door after his friend. 

Chris nodded in approval and then turned to Gleeson.  "I don't know what that was, but I'm not about to believe it was some ghost."

"Believe what you want Master Larabee and I'll believe what I want.  Now, gents, it's late, and I'm going to bed.  Good night ta yeah."  With a nod Gleeson turned and walked out of the saloon.

The men exchanged glances and with nothing else to do they left the saloon to try and sleep off the experience.

*****

Vin followed Ezra to the livery and found him standing in front of Chaucer's stall, gently stroking the ginger's nose. 

"May I help you Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked without looking away from his horse.

"You all right?"

"Why in the world would I not be?" Ezra asked in a surly tone of voice.  

Vin shrugged as he moved towards Peso, who was housed next to Chaucer.  "Maybe cause you bolted out of there."

"That was simply because I can not stand such superstitious talk."

"Take it you don't believe in these banshees."

"Your power of observation knows no bounds, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said dryly.  "Please tell me you do not believe in such pish posh.

"Tell you truth, Ez, I've never even heard of a banshee.  Now, I ain't one to believe in ghosts, but that don't mean they don't exist.  Gleeson certainly believes they do."

"Mr. Gleeson continues to hold onto the delusions of a far off country that have no place here in the modern age."

Vin noticed the hint of bitterness in Ezra's voice, is if he were trying to shut out a part of his life.  It was the same tone he had used when he had told Gleeson that 'perhaps I am not a true son of Eire'.

"Well I'd still like to know what made that sound," Vin commented as he patted Peso's head.

"Some things are better left alone," Ezra said quietly, stroking Chaucer's nose is an attempt to ease the horse and comfort himself.

Vin cocked his head.  It was an odd statement from a man who could never seem to stay out of trouble.  Perhaps Ezra had learned this lesson the hard way.  Maybe that was why he was no longer interested in being one of the "sons of Eire." 

"I guess your right," Vin said, continuing to pet Peso. Ezra simply nodded and continued to stroke Chaucer's nose. 



The next day the incident seemed to have been forgotten.  The seven went about their routine as always and when Gleeson appeared in the saloon at breakfast, he was as friendly as he had been the night before.  It was understood among the seven that the incident was not to be brought up again.  In Larabee's mind they had looked well enough for the cry and they were not paid to hunt down figments of the imagination, no matter how convinced one might be of its origin. Even Ezra, who had seemed strangely affected by the cry the night before, was back to his usual confident self and carried on a light banter with Gleeson.  Though Vin was slightly worried about the gambler, he let it slide.  Ezra would talk about it when he felt like it.

Around noon Gleeson left town on his old plow horse, wishing the seven a good week.  Ezra waved to him with the rest of the men and smiled when the man was out of town. 

"Finally," he sighed. 

Vin looked at him sharply.  "Huh, Ez?"

Ezra looked at him, surprised that someone had heard him.  "Nothing, Mr. Tanner.  If you will excuse me."  With that Ezra went into the saloon.

"It appears someone has had too much of his roots," Josiah commented. Vin nodded.  "I think you might be right Josiah."



Fionuir stood under a tree on a small rise looking out at the little town called Four Corners. 

"Are you sure this is wise?"

The girl turned around to see a pitch black shire stallion walking towards her.  He stood at least six feet tall at his withers with a great head, wild mane and huge hooves.  The beast wore no halter or saddle and his yellow eyes seemed almost human as they stared at the red head.

"Are you questioning my judgment, Lonan?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

"You've got that right," the stallion snorted in a deep voice that shook with a thick brogue.

"And why is that?" she asked, stepping closer to the horse that towered above her.

"Because what you're suggesting is absolutely daft."  Here he stomped the ground with one huge hoof to emphasize his point.  "Have you forgotten why you're here entirely?"

Disgust crossed Fionuir's face as she whirled around and walked away from the horse.  "How could I with you to constantly remind me?"

"Well, ye must need some remindin' cause ever since you came back from washing yesterday ye've apparently forgotten."

She turned sharply, her eyes piercing.  "I never forget my purpose, Lonan, never."

The horse took a step back and nodded his great head.  "All right, all right.  I forget how sensitive ye are about the whole thing."

"Well, ye shouldn't.  This is my family Lonan, my clan."

"I'll never understand why you girls are so attached to these mortals."  At the word mortal, Lonan snorted in disgust. "I don't know either," Fionuir replied honestly.  "But I know the  Kavanaghs are my family and every time one of them faces death it wrenches at my heart."  Her voice shook with emotion and she wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek.  "But you'll never understand, so I don't know why I bother," she said turning away.

"I don't know why either.  Ye'd think after three hundred years ye'd know better." 

She leaned against the tree, her back to him, her dark eyes gazing towards town.  "I know Lonan, I know."

Lonan knew he had not helped his friend's mood and walked toward her, nudging her shoulder with his nose.  One thing about banshees that he had never gotten used to was their excess of emotion.  They were always crying, or mourning or some such nonsense.  It was not their fault he knew.  It was their duty to cry for the dead and to give the family warning.  It was rare that Lonan ever saw Fionuir smile.  From what he understood she had been a naturally happy person when she had been a mortal.  Well, at least she was being fiery instead of weeping.  At least it was a different emotion.  Thank the Heavenly Saints. 

"I'm sorry, Fionuir," he said.  He had a natural gruff voice andhoped his sincerity seeped through. 

She smiled slightly and stroked his nose.  "It's all right Lonan."

"This is really important to you isn't Fionuir?"

The girl turned around to face him.  "Indeed it is."  Her eyes glinted with hope.  "Does this mean you've changed your mind?"

"Now I didn't say that lass," he said, shaking his head.

Fionuir smiled mischievously.  She could always tell when she had worn him down.  "But that's what you meant."

"Fine.  But only the first part."

"Please, I was going into town whether or not you agreed."

"Well, I might as well go with you and make sure you don't get into too much trouble."

"A pooka, keeping me out of trouble?" she said, one eyebrow arched.  "Now I've heard everything."

"Do ye want me to go with you or not?"[Ginny Ann] Lonan asked in a dry, disgruntled tone.

"Of course I do," she said with a wink.  "Now hold still."  She stepped back and placed her palm under her chin and blew in Lonan's direction.  A bridle, halter and saddle appeared on the great horse, including shoes.  She put down her hand and cocked her head, examining her work.  "Now, you look presentable enough for town."

Lonan stretched his head and gnawed at the bit.  "I understand the bit and bridle, but were the shoes  really necessary?" he asked stamping his foot.

Fionuir's smile fell she moved toward him.  "They're not painful, are they?"

He tossed his head.  "No, just uncomfortable.  Come on, let's get this over with."  Lonan knelt down on his front knees, his head bowed.  Smiling, Fionuir mounted, picking up the reins.

"Ready Lonan."

"Oh, goody," he said sarcastically as he trotted down the rise and towards the town. 

*****

Vin and Josiah were sitting in front of the saloon sipping their beers when Vin caught sight of a huge horse moving down the street.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said, with a smile.

"What is it Vin?" Josiah asked, turning to look at what had caught his friend's attention. 

"It's the girl Buck and I met at the creek."

"Seems she changed her mind," Josiah said with a smile.

"Seems that way," Vin said as he stood up and walked down the boardwalk steps, Josiah right behind him.

The girl guided her horse towards the two men, a smile on her face.  "Good afternoon, Master Tanner."

"Noon ma'am," he said, touching his hat.  "Ma'am, this is my friend Josiah Sanchez."

"Pleasure to meet you ma'am.  It's Fionuir, correct?"

Fionuir eyed the large smiled and smiled.  "Quite right Master Sanchez.  Tis grand to finally meet you."  So you're the man who's taken my boy under your wing, she thought.

"Does this mean you've change your mind, Miss Fionuir?" Vin asked.

She turned her gaze to the tracker and answered without flinching.  The girl had already worked out exactly what she would say.  Twenty three hundred years had taught her to plan ahead.

"I have no reason to change my mind, Vin.  My lad took a turn for the better last night.  He's doing just fine, now."

Lonan snorted at this and Fionuir gave an almost unnoticeable tug on his mane.

"That's wonderful news ma'am," Josiah said, smiling broadly.

"That it is ma'am," Vin agreed. 

"Thank you, both of you and please, call me Fionuir."

"Well, Fionuir, to what do we owe this visit?" Josiah asked.

"Well, Mr. Sanchez, I first of all wanted to apologize to Masters Tanner and Wilmington for my rudeness yesterday."

"No need, Fionuir," Vin said, tipping his hat.

Fionuir flashed him a smile before continuing.  "And I wanted to meet the rest of the Magnificent Seven.  If you are all as gentlemanly as Masters Tanner and Wilmington then the trip would have been worth it," she said with a wink.

"Now ma'am," Vin said.

"Now, Vin, it's not polite to disagree with a lady," Josiah said.  "Do you have a place to stay, Miss Fionuir?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Sanchez.  Everything's settled.  Though, I do believe that I could use a drink."

"That can be easily remedied."  He reached up to help her down but she raised her hand to stop him.

Without even seemingly signaling him, Lonan kneeled on his front forelocks and Fionuir easily dismounted.  "Shall we, gents?" she asked.

"This way Miss Fionuir," Josiah said, gesturing towards the saloon.

Smiling, she bowed her head slightly, tied Lonan to the post and followed the two men into the saloon.