Conor Dillon – Beginnings Excerpt 21
They all turned in unison toward where they had heard the sound of several horses. The new arrivals were wearing the red coats with black facings and black cuffs, brass buttons and gold edged black tricornes of the Regiment Dillon.
Once they had dismounted and attended to their horses, they came towards the four companions. Their leader was an older distinguished looking man, Conor studied him, he certainly had that air of nobility about him, he had to be the Lord Dillon, his father, Conor suddenly felt quite vulnerable.
The Lord saw Black Michael and Shamus and broke into a smile, ‘I might have known you pair of rogues would be involved when I heard that some Irishmen had been attacking our allies?’ he was grinning, he obviously knew them both well, but where do I fit in this equation, thought Conor.
‘Did I hear the story correctly, there is one amongst you who claims to be my son, which of you, is he?’ he asked looking towards James and myself. ‘I am Conor Dillon, your Lordship, and I have a letter of introduction from my Mother, I stated, then reaching inside my shirt, ‘And this ring, which you may recognise by the crest, which I believe is your own?’ I paused to let my words have and effect.
‘And what do you expect from me boy, if I admit to siring you?’ asked his Lordship. ‘I want recognition as your bastard son, or are you planning to have me killed, the same as you did my father, with an hired assassin,’ I stated angrily.
‘Believe me boy, because I speak the truth, I am aware that the killing of your Father was done in my name, but never by my orders, your Father and I were friends and I grieve his passing!’ he stated in what to my young ears sounded like sincerity and sorrow, I was even more confused now.
(C) Damian Grange 2018