One Thousand Years to Forever Read online

  One Thousand Years to Forever

  The Making of a Queen

  By Mary Moriarty

  Copyright © 2013, Mary Moriarty

  Smashwords Edition

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, emailing, blogging, recording, or by any digital information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  * * * * * * *

  I would like to take time to thank a few people…

  First, to my husband Bob Stiehler, for being so supportive of my love of writing. I would like to thank my children and how they have been super supportive and for being some of my best advertising. I love you all, Megan, MaryKate, Patrick, Joseph, Ian, Daniel and Brendan.

  For three of my best friends and readers: Karen, Diane and Monica. The encouragement and input has been invaluable to me.

  To my beta reader and editor, Robin Hanks LaRosa. I appreciate all you have done and love you!!!

  To my editor extraordinaire, Linda Robbs Gren. You are awesome and have helped me so much in this whole process. I love having you as my editor and love calling you my friend!!

  For a dear friend, Tom Proctor, who put me in contact with Monica Hall and his sister, Linda. Through him, I now have a twin (Monica) who is as dear to me as any sister and my friend and his real sister who again is a dear friend and another sister from another mother and my editor. Thank you Tom!!

  This book and any of the books to follow are in memory to my sweet dear friend and little Bro, Robert McClelland Smith. You were taken from us way too early and for me I have days that I want to share something with you but I know you are watching. You were such an inspiration to me, Rob, and you were always telling people about your ‘sis’ writing. I miss you beyond anything that can be put into words or I can express, BUT, I know you are up there somewhere smiling down with your Cheeky grin, and fishing. So, Rob, this book is for you, Mum and Jo: my ‘Other’ family. I love you!!!

  To all my readers since the publication of my first book “The Kings of Angkor: Army of a Thousand Elephants” I write for you!

  * * * * * * *

  With writing the prologue I tried to keep it as close to the facts and the time line as possible. Since I was not living in the United States, but in Cambodia and was asleep, I didn’t even know till the next morning what had happened. It was the night of September 11th, in the USA, when I learned what had taken place. My current husband has been a Fire Fighter since he was 15, down in Long Island, and is also a 3rd generation Fire Fighter, lost boyhood friends that day. Being a Fire Fighter myself, I tried to treat that awful day with upmost respect for the fallen. I wrote that prologue in memory of the fallen brothers and sisters who died that day and for all the victims.

  May we never forget.

  Prologue

  “Sir, I think there is something you should see... ”

  Colum O’Heachthanna looked up to the sound of his butler’s voice, he was looking out at the view that lay in front of him. As Colum stood, the door to his office crashed open and in walked his father. His steps, matched the size of his body: Long, large and strong.

  Cormac O’Heachthanna barely looked at his son as he moved silently to the window next to their family butler.

  Colum came to stand next to the two men, all three silent sentinels to the tragedy that was quickly unfolding. All three were quiet as each man was lost in his own thoughts. Then Colum spoke.

  “Does anyone know what happened?”

  The butler barely turned from the scene that was unfolding in front of them to the huge flat screen on the wall to their right, it blinked on.

  As the three men watched the drama unfold the voice of the newscaster rose and fell with emotion and then, “Oh My God, A second plane…it’s…it’s hit, it’s hit the South Tower... ”

  Colum started to pace. “I can’t let this happen again... she’s in the North Tower... ”

  His father looked over at him calmly. “Katherine?”

  Colum stared at his father, incredulous. “Of course Katherine!” He passed his father then brought his hand slamming down on the nearest table, a priceless antique within his reach. The table looked like it would withstand the blow but then gave way.

  Cormac looked at his son and then at the table. “Do what you need to do to get her out safely.”

  Colum threw on his leather coat and went for the door of the balcony. “Thank you, father. I don’t think I could go through another lifetime waiting for her to grow up.”

  “Try to get as many out with her as you can.” His words were swallowed by the wind that came into the penthouse suite of their office from the balcony.

  Their butler, Travis, looked at Cormac. He had been with them for almost one thousand years and he knew both men like they were his own family. They were in fact his family, since it was Colum who had created him after he lay dying on the battlefield at Clontarf. He had been Mael Morda, enemy to King Brian Boru but also the King’s brother-in-law. Cormac and Colum, father and son, had fought along with the High King but had respected Mael as a leader.

  “If I know young Colum, he will do his upmost to get as many out as he is able to. Sir... ”

  Cormac turned tired eyes on Travis. “How many times do I have to remind you that you don’t have to call me Sir? You are, in fact, my equal.”

  “Begging your pardon, S- Sir, but if you don’t mind I will always be calling you Sir, as I am no longer in charge.”

  Cormac needed something to break. Not only was the world, his world, under attack but his son was going into harm’s way. However, he had complete confidence that he would succeed. He had been on tougher missions and he was, after all, not human, though he appeared to be. He was, in fact, half Fallen Angel and half vampire.

  “Don’t worry, Sir, he will be fine. He is after all, destined to be your successor. And, if I may say so, I think he will make a very good King.”

  Cormac looked out at the scene in front of them, to the smoke that shot to the sky from both towers, along with fireballs and debris that fell from both the buildings. He, Cormac O’Heachthanna, had seen too much hate, war, and destruction in his time especially as King. It would be good to step down in favor of his son.

  “Yes, he will make a very good King, actually, a great King but he needs his Queen.”

  * * * * * * *

  John MacNamara knew he was in a dream. He felt like he was just floating along but he knew from the speed that he must be running. Smoke and debris fell as he ran. He looked around his beloved city and he knew something bigger than he had ever seen was happening. He tried to look up but he wasn’t able to or allowed. He was moving with a purpose and as he looked down he saw he had his turnout gear on. In his hands he was holding a box flashlight and an ax. As he was moving forward, he saw others moving out of the building that he approached.

  He knew from instinct what was expected of him. He knew the chances that he was going to get out were slim. It was a gut feeling, but it was his job to get as many out as possible or die trying. He entered the building as people pushed past him. He could almost smell the smoke as he started to climb stairs, heard his breathing as he ran up the flight of stairs in the stairwell. As he climbed, floor after floor, there was a reason for his coming in here. The people around him were not panicking but moving with a purpose, trying as they may to get down and out while he continued on and upward.

  He reached the twelfth floor and there she stood. She was f
ramed by dust and smoke that was filtering down and she looked wild. Her red hair was a mess and her green eyes framed by black from her makeup but she was beautiful and she sighed a sigh of relief as she saw his face. She knew him, knowing him in his gear. He knew she would be thinking that together they would get out now. He was right behind her, but he wouldn’t be going with her not today, not ever. He had to get her out, but how to get his wife, his Irish witch, out of this hell that was soon going to descend upon them? Then he saw the man behind her, the biggest, tallest man he had ever seen but, where had he seen him before? Probably on the streets and he happened to be in this building. Looking him in his eyes they communicated silently to each other. Somehow John knew this man was meant to be here. That this man was meant for Katherine, his Katherine. He heard him say, “I will take care of her and your children, don’t worry. Your memory will be honored.”

  He saw the look in his girl’s face, knew she would fight. She was, after all, a fighter and hadn’t they fought this morning over this very same thing? It had been a while since they had had such a fight but they had and now he knew he wouldn’t be coming home to talk, to make up, to make love, like they always did. There would be no going out on his bike for a long ride and finding a spot for just the two of them. No, he wouldn’t be going home now or ever. But this man would take Katherine out of here, out of harm’s way.

  He reached up and touched her face one last time. Saw the tears pool in her beautiful eyes and then start to spill down her cheeks. Saw people pass by, trying to escape the fate that would not meet them today, but would be his. Then he heard his voice. “Get her out!”

  Heard her scream, heard all the screams as they vibrated off the walls as he walked past and felt her body one last time and then felt her body as it was lifted up and away. She screamed, kicked and tore at the man who now carried her down the stairs as he kept going forward and up the stairs. He felt the shudder of the building and knew something worse had happened. Heard the screams of those around him but he kept going.

  But this was just a dream and he would wake up and his little witch, his Irish witch, would be nestled next to him and he would turn her over and kiss her and make love like they always did and he would go to work and everything would be fine, because this was just a dream, after all...

  * * * * * * ****

  Katherine MacNamara stood, as did others, in the elevator of the North Tower of the World Trade Center. She was late, as she always was. Due, in fact, because of her kids and the fight she’d had with her husband, John. He had left just before her to start his shift at the fire station but not before they had one of their knock down drag out fights. It happened about twice a year and when it did the whole neighborhood knew the MacNamara’s were fighting. The Fighting Irish some called them in their neighborhood. Now, as she rode the elevator to the 106th floor she tried to think just what the fight was about. She looked at the people around her and saw everyone with their suits on, carrying brief cases. She noticed the floor marker read 60th floor, when all of a sudden the building shook with such force she thought earthquake, as did a lot of the others who voiced it in the elevator. She saw the time on her watch was 8:45 am. The lights blinked twice and then they went out. They all stood there quietly and then someone got out a lighter, another asked, “Does anyone have a flashlight?”

  Katherine, being the wife and daughter of fire fighters, said, “Yes.”

  All done calmly... a little too calmly, she would think later. After prying open the roof of the elevator hatch, they saw that they were still near the 60th floor, so one by one they started to climb up and out. What met their calm and quiet as they got out of the elevator shaft, was mass mayhem. Katherine stood there and then raised her voice. “We need to get to the nearest stairwell and start down.” Seeing women in heels like herself she said, “Off with the heels. Carry or throw but get them off.” She then pitched her briefcase because she knew it was going to take all of her strength, and maybe more, to get out of what had just happened. They were working their way down stairwell B when her phone went off. She saw it was her husband.

  “Honey where are you?”

  Katherine sighed as she, along with others, headed down the stairs as orderly as possible.

  “I’m probably on the 59th floor, stairwell B... ”

  Another voice in the crowd yelled, “We are on the 58th floor... ”

  “58th floor and moving. What happened?”

  John MacNamara was on one of the fire engines making its way to the World Trade Center. He was a Battalion Chief for the borough where they lived. “Honey, first listen, I’m sorry about this morning; second, I love you; third, keep moving. Don’t let anyone tell you to stop. Keep all that are with you moving. We are getting there as quickly as possible. Help is on the way.”

  She listened to her husband and knew he wasn’t telling her what she wanted to know just to keep her moving. She knew whatever had happened was bad, beyond words, and he knew it may freeze her. “You’re not telling me what happened... ”

  She could hear someone yell. “My Mom just called me, we, New York is under attack. A plane hit us... ”

  Another said, “It must have been an accident... ” They had no sooner said that when they felt the building shake again. Someone swore and Katherine yelled, “Keep moving, we have to keep moving.” They kept going down the stairs, flight after flight. Moving faster, but still orderly.

  They had reached the 34th floor when Katherine’s phone rang again. “Kat, you’ve got to keep moving, we are here, I’m coming in and I’m coming up your stairwell. Keep moving... ”

  “Help’s on the way, keep moving, we have to move... ” They kept it as orderly as they could, until someone screamed, “The South Tower has been hit!” And then people started to run until someone from below screamed up, “Don’t run! Keep going steady... ” then “Kat! Kat, are you up there?”

  Katherine yelled, “Yes!” and ran into the arms of her husband first, and then her father and father-in-law. All four hugged as people filed past.

  John looked into the eyes of the woman he had known all his life. The girl he had teased in school who had turned far too many heads of the guys when they hit high school and who had finally said ‘yes’ to his invitation to their junior prom. From then on they had been together. He had a feeling that unless he was incredibly lucky he wasn’t going to make it. He was in here, not just to rescue his wife, but to get as many out as possible... so he wasn’t going down the stairs with her.

  “Honey, you have to get out. I have to go on.”

  Katherine looked at her husband and knew he wasn’t going to telling her anything.

  “What happened?”

  John tried to listen to the traffic on his radio from the NYPD. “The South Tower is... ”

  The transmission was lost in the noise that was hitting them. People stood still in stairwell B. All that could be seen was flashlights from rescue workers and from people on the stairwell. An occasional curse could be heard but it was amazingly quiet considering what was going on. People moved with calm and courtesy as if sensing that if these were their last moments on earth, they were going knowing that they didn’t panic, didn’t mow down their fellow neighbors on the stairs. Some were hurt and were being carried by others who were trying to get them out. The fire fighters who had come up with Katherine’s husband directed and continued to move up the stairs with the grim determination that they were going to do their job.

  John looked at his Kat. “I need to move, you need to move, get moving now. Dad, Da, go with her... ”

  Both father and father-in-law looked at John, knowing what he knew. “We will get her out.”

  For the first time, Katherine started to cry. As she was ripped from John’s arms she started to scream. “No, I’m going with you. I’m a EMT, I can help!” Katherine searched for straws to grasp to stay with the man she loved more than life itself. Knowing what he knew... he would stay and she would go, but not without a fight.


  John knew she would say this. “No, you can’t. You don’t have an air pack and I’m giving you an order. Go, now! Go or I will write you up when I get back to headquarters.”

  Katherine was screaming as she was pulled away from him and then all of a sudden she was lifted up off the floor and was being held by a stranger.

  Colum looked down at John MacNamara and felt pain. Felt the pain that John felt, because he knew he was going to his death. “I promise to get her to safety... I promise to watch out for her and watch over her, from now on.” Then silently, “I will take care of her and your children, don’t worry. Your memory will be honored.”

  John looked up into the eyes of the man who held his wife, who for the moment was quiet. The man was a giant. Standing at least 6’ 8”. He looked like that guitarist, Peter Steele. Maybe that was who it was, with long black hair, high cheekbones. “Thank you, get her and as many as you can out... I have to go on.”

  These two men gazes locked one last time, and then Colum clasped John on the shoulder. The moment he moved, Katherine started to scream and kick again. “Put me down! Let me down! I have to go with him... ”

  Colum listened to her for the next thirty some odd floors as she screamed, kicked and hit him. As they made their way down the stairwell, they felt the South Tower come down. More people screamed and started to panic. Colum yelled out for them to keep moving, not to run. Katherine had stopped hitting him. She was just whimpering by the time they reached the bottom floor. He got everyone who was with him out and away from the building, along with her father and father-in-law. They got up to one of the rescue trucks when the ground started to shake. He was about to put her down when he thought the better of it and moved the small group he had guided, further away.

  They watched as the North Tower start to pancake down, dust billowing up like a cloud. He yelled, “Run!” They turned and ran as far as they could. He could feel Katherine cry as he turned the corner. As the last of the building came slamming down Katherine let out a wail and beat on his back, dug and pounded on him with every bit of strength left in her. He let her down and held her against his body to protect her from the blast of debris that spread all over the area and them. They made a tight huddle covering one another as the dust and parts of the building rained down on them, then all was quiet. They all stood there, still, no one saying a word or moving and then one by one they all let go and looked around. What met their eyes was complete destruction like nothing anyone had ever seen. It looked like the city had been annihilated.