by Rosie Harper
#
Back in the village, Artair had worked himself up into a rage.
“I told you that they were trouble!” He cried to his father in front of the large group of warriors he had gathered to locate his sister. “As soon as they arrive, Fiona has disappeared!”
Angus did not hide his concern over his missing daughter, but he kept his emotions calm for fear of whipping the already heightened emotions of his people into a frenzy. They had never seemed to truly care about Fiona, none of these people did, and yet now they stood whispering about the strange clan who had come into their midst, who had stolen away the daughter of the chieftain. Artair held tightly to the hilt of his sword, looking for someone, anyone, who would challenge him to slake the bloodlust rising in his heart.
“Be calm, my son,” Angus said. “Fiona is a willful girl, and things have not been easy for her here in the village.”
Other villagers had gathered to watch the spectacle unfold, and one of the shepherds stepped forward, his face bristling with fear and hatred.
“She runs because she feels guilt!” He cried. A few of the other villagers agree. “She knows that Clan Sheehy closes in, and soon she will not be able to hide her dark deeds from anyone.”
Randall Sheehy moved smoothly through the crowd, calm as still water, and made his way to Angus’ side.
“This is no work of a mere girl,” Randall explained to him. “I have reason to believe that this is the work of the baobhansith, and if this is the truth than she is in grave danger out on the highlands alone.”
Angus could not exactly feel comfort at the fact that his daughter was blameless, specially not if some strange demonic creature was out there hunting for its next kill. He knew of the baobhansith, a creature that took the form of a beautiful woman in order to lure men to their deaths in their cold embrace.
“Why would the creature kill our animals?” he asked. “I heard that they liked to take travellers on the road.”
Randall nodded. “And they do, but this close to a village they start with whatever they could get. If given enough time, the baobhansith may have moved closer into the village. You called me just in time.”
“Do you know how to kill the thing?”
“Yes, but it will not be easy.”
“And what makes you believe that you can kill such a thing and we cannot?” Artairasked, his voice still full of his own hot temper. Randall turned his eyes, a strange gold, to look upon Angus’ son.
“You need magic to kill magic, boy, and not a soul carries a bit of magic in this village, save for your own sister.”
Artair looked stricken at the words, but he did not argue with them. Satisfied, Randall turned back to Angus.
“We can only hope now that Callum has found her, if not… its best to pray, if that is something these people do.”
“When I agreed to wed my daughter to your clan,” Angus said stonily. “I did not expect her life to also be in danger.”
Randall smiled, but it was not necessarily a happy smile. “Angus, my dear friend, if your daughter survives this, if she weds my son, she’ll have a lot more danger in her life than just this, but I promise you, it will not be the death she faces now, full of boredom and facing the distrust of her own people. In fact, the more I learn of this Fiona, bu more I believe that she was destined for my son, I only hope you can have faith in that.”
There was a quiet, before Artair stormed off by himself. Angus called to him, but to no avail.
The villagers did not seem happy, save one. Ole Bonnie smiled a simple smile to herself, before backing away and making her way back to the cottage. In spite of all the danger, Ole Bonnie never grew tired of being right.
Chapter 5
“We think it might have been a spell put on our clan many generations ago,” Callum said as he guided her down the path back to the village. “Our hearts were wedded to the earth, and in thanks we were given the form of a wolf to protect it.”
Callum had left his pack full of clothing, as well as a spell-forged sword that could feel the beast near the cave when he had seen the bear attack Fiona.She had dutifully turned her back as he dressed and armed himself.
“So you’re magic,” Fiona said matter-of-factly, trying to hide her wonder at such a thing. “That’s incredible.”
“Yes. It’s our job to protect the highlands from unnatural dangers. Your father knows this, but I’m not fully sure he knew why.”
There was much that he could not say to her, at least not yet. He did not want to have to explain that he had never been much for courting, had never truly cared about anything but his duties in the clan, until the day he had met her. His father had kept their betrothal a secret from him as well, most likely because he never believed that it would truly end up happening, but now, face to face with the dark-haired beauty that was to be his bride, he knew that he had spent most of his life simply waiting for her. Such things seemed silly to think upon now, but he couldn’t help himself. She moved with such grace, even now as they were searching for the dangerous baobhansith, she did not show a single bit of fear.
He had told her everything, of the creature they hunted, of how dangerous it was, and also the reasons why the people of her village most likely believed it was her. If she felt flattered at being compared to an otherworldly beauty, she did not show it, but Callum believed she was not the type to be flattered by anything.
He admired that.
“Why did you run?” he asked after they had been walking for hours. They were waiting for the sunset, which wasn’t long now.
“What?”
“Why did you run from me when you found out?”
Fiona laughed at the silliness of the question.
“I did not run from you, she explained. “I ran from destiny.”
“Was it because of our time in the meadow?”
She let out a deep breath. “No. That felt like the last and only time I ever truly had a choice.”
He accepted her answer and scanned the horizon, it was a good place, he decided, to build a fire. He told her as such and set out finding firewood, gathering branches shed by a nearby tree. Fiona looked around nervously, and he took pity on her.
“Here,” he told her. “Help me build a fire.”
By the time the flame had grown to a respectable fire, night had fallen, and there was not much to do but wait. Fiona huddled beside him, staring into the flames with a look of dread on her face.
“I’ve never heard of the baobhansith until now,” she said with a touch of disappointment in her voice.
“Few have, they often don’t leave many people alive. And your village seems…” Close-minded, he thought. “Stubborn,” he said. She laughed at that.
“That they are.”
“So you thought if you destroyed the creature yourself, you would not have to marry me?”
She shook her head. “I thought that if I destroyed the creature myself I would not be forced to marry you.”
“I understand.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“What if the creature does not come?” She asked. He looked out over the stars, at the lovely night.
“There are ways we could draw them close.”
“How is that?”
“They like to feed off of blood, and barring that…” he cut himself off, red flushing to his cheeks. He hoped that she thought that it was merely the fire.
“Barring what?”
“They also love to feed off of the...virility of men.”
It took Fiona a moment to sink in, but her eyes grew wife. “You’re only saying that to make love to me again!”
“Isn’t it worth a try?” he told her with a smile. She laughed and swatted his arm. Her hands were soft. So soft. He reached out to take her hand, happily falling into the same rhythm once again.
“It is,” she admitted. “And perhaps it is working.”
Her hand moved to touch the hard muscles of his arm, moving slowly up to touch the back
of his neck. He leaned into her hand as she touched his cheek. Who was this girl, who could affect him so deeply? He drew her close and kissed her, pushing his tongue between her willing lips, feeling her respond in kind. All at once she pressed herself against him as though she were drowning, undoing the laces of her own bodice, bringing his hands to touch her breasts.... such soft breasts, and all for him. She made a little moan in the back of her throat as he kissed down her collarbone, and down…
Soon she was on top of him, moving against him and crying out in ecstasy. His hands held onto her hips tightly, enjoying the open air, enjoying the feel of her wild curls as they brushed his cheeks, he could feel the change well up inside of her, and she cried out in one final release, and him with her.
She slumped against him, her face flushed with warmth.
“It definitely worked,” she whispered to him. He nuzzled her neck and laughed.
“Will you dance with me?” A voice asked behind them. Callum looked over Fiona’s shoulder to see a vision of beauty standing before him. She wore a long velvet down, with shining red hair that fell to her waist. He knew exactly who she was.
“Yes it did.”
Fiona turned around and saw the creature. She screamed, covering herself up and darting off of his lap. The baobhansith watched her go with dispassionate eyes, Callum knew that the creature would not go for her.
He had heard that they were beautiful, but her beauty was such that it almost seemed rotten, her dewy skin looked almost as though it could split in his hands like overripe fruit, and he rose to his feet to fight her.
“None of that,” the baobhansith said as though he were acting silly. “Just dance with me!”
She reached her arms out to him, and he felt a little weak in the knees at the thought of it. He knew that he maintained some resistance to her charms, but not all, and he could swear he heard some sort of music in the air.
“No!” He heard Fiona cry, and suddenly he was in the arms of the creature, feeling her impossibly sharp nails digging into his arms. They were sharp enough to slit the belly of a bull, and he was sure that they had.
“Fiona!” Another voice cried, and there was Artair, standing in the light of the fire, his face red with running. No! Callum thought, as the creature turned her eyes to him. Artair’s face immediately grew slack, and he held out his arms to her.
“Artair!”Fiona cried. She gripped her pack in her hands, before a realization came to her face. She dug through her thing, and removed the skein of milk.
Stepping forward, she held the skein before her. “See? My offering. I offer this to you.”
The baobhansith turned head like a serpent, her eyes growing wide at the offering of milk.Of course, Callum thought. It’s best to make an offering of water so they do not want your blood, and milk would be the next best thing.
The creature seized the skein of milk held it to her lips, drinking and mewling thirstily, as Artair stood dazed, a small pool of blood already draining at his feet.
Callum drew his sword and stepped quickly, driving it into the creature from behind. She screamed and yowled, but the runes carved into his blade glowed faintly, and then were still. Fiona finished lacing her bodice as the creature died and her brother came back to reality, and she moved to him to see if he was alright. Callum knew that he would be, she had not held him in her deathly embrace for very long.
Fiona moved to Callum side, embracing him.
“I forgot to tell you,” he said to her after she had finally let him go.
“What is it now?” she asked with a little laugh. He reached into his bag and removed a small sprig of white heather. Her eyes grew wide, and with trembling fingers she took the flowers from his hand.
“It seems like I had gotten a little distracted before I was able to properly give this to you,” he said with a little laugh. “But here it is. The choice is your now.”
She looked into his strange golden eyes, this man who could turn into a wolf, and knew precisely what her answer would be.
Epilogue: Two Weeks Later
Fiona braided white heather into her hair in preparation for the wedding. She had never been more sure, than she was at that very moment, she knew that now, and as she adjusted the tartan of Clan MacCaig as a sash across her simple white dress, she understood finally what Ole Bonnie had meant.
The old woman watched with a smile as Fiona breathlessly prepared. She had done well, knew she had, but such was her wont, being what she was. Fiona had spent her entire life wishing to see a faerie, but had failed to see the one who had been before her all along. This thrilled Ole Bonnie, because as kindly as she was, she still loved a good trick or two.
With Artair’s witness account, and the pile of bones that the baohbansith had become, Fiona and Callum were easily believed by the people of the village. They had looked upon the situation with wonder, and perhaps a little fear. Ole Bonnie liked that, a little fear was good when dealing with faeries.
With Fiona’s approval, the wedding plans had begun immediately.
“Look at me, Ole Bonnie!’ she cried with happiness, spinning around to show off her dress.
“You’re the most beautiful bride in the highlands,” Ole Bonnie said, and she meant it too.
In spite of Fiona’s protests, the old woman had insisted on watching the ceremony from afar. Her old bones, she said, she couldn’t go walking up hills anymore. It did not matter, for as soon as Fiona lay eyes on her groom her face lit up with joy and she thought of little else, not even about Ole Bonnie. But that was just as well.
She watched from afar as Fiona kissed her happy groom, and she granted a wish that Fiona had not even known she had made.
They would live happily ever after, that would be Ole Bonnie’s gift. She bowed her head and began to walk away, returning back to wherever it was that she had come from, disappearing from the minds of the villagers….all except one.
THE END
Haunted Highlands
Highlander Romance
By: Bonnie Adamson
Haunted Highlands
Prologue:
She held the reins so tightly in her hands that her knuckles had gone white with the effort, and tried not to look behind her as she urged the horses down the path. It was a silly thing to be too concerned about, she had left the note and had left immediately, and he wouldn’t find it until perhaps even the next day. It didn’t matter, she still felt as though she were doing something terrible, even though she knew it was her only choice.
She was comfortable on a horse, and even more comfortable using the carriage thanks to a precocious curiosity she had as a little girl, and it suited her well now. The wind whipped through the pale blonde hair that had escaped her prim and proper bun, twisting the strands into long ropes. She like it that way. Let it be a mess.
The boulder seemed to come out of nowhere, and the next thing she heard was the panicked whinnying of her horse, the sound of something cracking, and then she was in the air, flying, it felt like, and a crunch. There was pain, and then...blissfully, nothing.
#
It was a calm and cool night on the highlands, and Alasdair MacLeod was looking for a little bit of adventure. It had been too long since he had ridden out with his kin and fought those who needed fighting, and as the days of peace grew longer, he idly wondered who his next enemy may end up being.
“Ah Alasdair,” his friends would inevitably say. “Why don’t you find yourself a nice lass? How many years has it been since Elaine died? Your little girl needs a mother, your son too, and you need a woman.”
It had been almost three years since Elaine was taken from him, and he was still trying not to turn over and reach for her in the middle of the night. His poor children, Alec and Ness, were having a hard time themselves, with Alec being only three at her death, and Ness being a babe in arms. He knew that there was something wrong and he loved his children desperately, but he did not know what to do with his own overwhelming sadness.
Not that
he showed it, at least not to his men, and there had been a particular comfort in leaving his home, with his children safely spending time with their beloved Aunt Leana while he chased the next dragon in his mind. Of course he knew that Leana was a beautiful woman, and young enough too, and he wasn’t so foolish as to see the longing in her eyes, but those eyes were Elaine’s eyes. She looked far too much like her late sister to ever make Alasdair look at her with anything but regret.
Not like the others agreed with him, they wished that he would lay with her, or anyone for that matter, but all Alasdair wanted to do was forget about the heartbreak of romance.
He saw something out of the corner of his eye.
“Hold it there, lads,” Alasdair held out his hand in a gesture to get the the others to still their horses. There was a nervous whinnying in the distance, and as he urged Tavish, his own horse, forward, the pit in his stomach grew worse. He could see the movement of a broken wheel, a beautiful gray mare struggling against its harness, and an overturned carriage.
There she was, on the ground, her face bloody, but nevertheless beautiful. Her long, golden blonde hair had spilled loose, with golden strands clinging to one bloody cheek. He could hear the others grow quiet in shock as they took in the scene, and Alasdair dismounted and handed his reins to the nearest man.
Cautiously, he moved to the wreckage in the hopes of freeing the poor horse from its sad fate. The mare whinnied again in a feeling bordering on panic, and Alasdair hoped very much that he would be able to calm the creature long enough to free it.
“Ssshh, pretty girl,” he whispered to her. “You’ll be alright in just a moment, trust in old Alasdair MacLeod.”
The gentle tones of his voice seemed to sooth her, and he managed to break her free of her constraints enough for him to get a good look at her injuries. It didn’t seem like much besides a few scrapes here and there, and he gave a reassuring pat to her hindquarters in the hopes that she would register him as a friend, not foe. It seemed to get through to her, and he turned to the rest of his men, just out on a simple patrol of the area, now trying to understand what to do.
