Highlander’s Bewitched Soul

by Olivia Kerr

He hadn’t ever considered such a thing. His brother had been his dearest friend, and he had been so wrapped up in grief that he hadn’t thought to think of Thomas, no longer suffering.

  “Hmm,” he said, and she caught his eye.

  “What about your sister?” she asked.

  “Childbirth,” he replied. “Her daughter is barely two years old, and she will never know her mother or her father. It is the cruelest thing in the world.”

  “Perhaps,” Isla said. “Or perhaps it is a blessing.”

  “How are both of a young child’s parents perishing a blessing?” he asked, confused.

  “Well, no matter how wonderful of a person your sister was, and her husband, they were human, were they not?”

  “Of course they were.”

  “So her child will grow up with only the good memories that people share,” she said. “She will not know of their faults. She will not see any of their errors, and she will only know their pure love. And while I have no doubt they would have been wonderful parents, the child will know only pure happiness and perfection when she thinks of her parents.”

  “But by that logic, all parents should die,” he said.

  She sighed. “No, they shouldn’t. But we cannot change the past, so we must try to find the goodness in it.”

  He said nothing for a long moment, as he looked up at the sky.

  “Does David tell you to say those things?” he asked, at last. “Or do you truly believe them?”

  “I truly believe them,” she replied. “It is the only reason I have survived this long.”

  That phrase caught his attention, but he chose not to investigate its future. It was late, and he was tired. In addition, there was something about the way she said it that told him she did not want to discuss it further

  “I should turn in,” he said. “Dawn comes early.”

  “Is it required?” she asked. “To be up at dawn?”

  “No,” he replied, as he met her eyes. “I choose to, to worship before the day begins.”

  “Where do you worship?” she asked before he headed back to his own tent.

  “At the cathedral in town,” he replied. “With others of the same faith.”

  “Ah,” she said and he thought she was going to make a comment about his choices. Instead, she bowed her head. “Well, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” he said, and took one last lingering glance at her before heading towards his tent.

  Even though she was no longer in his direct line of sight, she was in his mind’s eye as he got ready for bed.

  Her beauty was only part of the reason that he could not stop thinking about her. She was beautiful, it was true, but there was something about her that was different. She was quite intelligent and he was certain that she had a lot more to say on each topic they discussed.

  He found himself baffled by the fact that he really didn’t mind that she believed something different than him. Her morals seemed to be the same, and her search for a silver lining was actually quite kind, even if he wasn’t willing to embrace such an attitude.

  Why had his father really sent her? Jacob honestly couldn’t think that Isla was going to win a war that they were failing to win? His father was not actually putting his faith in a tiny girl, was he?

  But then, Cameron realized as he thought of all the battle tactics he had read, stranger things had happened. Men won battles for all sorts of reasons, and many seemed unlikely from an outsider’s perspective.

  Perhaps she would help or perhaps she wouldn’t. As long as she didn’t harm their chances or distract from the battle, he didn’t really mind.

  He settled down to sleep and closed his eyes, but all he could see was Isla when he did.

  What would it be like to stand a little closer to her than I had tonight? What would she smell like? What would she feel like?

  His eyes flew open. He shouldn’t be thinking that—it was sinful! She was clearly timid already, and she seemed untrusting of most people. She didn’t need to add another name to her list.

  “Why is she here, Lord?” he asked, not expecting an answer. He didn’t hear any voices in his ear, but he did feel his heart thud twice.

  He put a hand to his chest, confused. What was that?

  He decided that he was just overtired. Everything would be clearer in the morning; it always was.

  5

  “What are you doing?” Cameron looked in confusion at his sergeant, who seemed to be staring off into the distance. Cameron had given them orders to stand at attention, but the young sergeant seemed to be distracted.

  “Nothing, sir,” the sergeant said, and jumped back to the proper position. Cameron raised his eyebrow and followed the young sergeant's gaze. He knew what he would find because it was what was distracting most of the men these days.

  Isla wasn’t even doing anything. She was simply sitting by the tree, on top of the hill, and drawing. Every once in a while she would look up and watch them, but other than that, she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

  Cameron knew that she was distracting them, of course. He sighed and looked up at the sun, and then back at his men.

  “Take a break,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly. When I come down that hill, however, I expect to find you back at attention.”

  The men said nothing, but Cameron was certain they would have some things to say once he was up the hill and out of earshot. He started the climb, ignoring the sun that was pounding down on him. It was a hot day and was likely going to be hotter still, but he wiped his brow and kept climbing. Isla saw him coming and put down her piece of parchment.

  “Hello,” she said. “I had a feeling that you would come up here.”

  “You did?” he asked. “Or is another one of your prophecies?”

  She laughed. “It’s not a prophecy when you keep glancing up here all the time.”

  “I am not glancing up here all the time,” he replied. “Save for the fact that my men are continuously looking, and I hope that their eyes are averted elsewhere. But alas, every time one of them is distracted, you are there.”

  Isla blushed at that and leaned against the tree.

  “That’s not my fault,” she replied. “I have done nothing wrong.”

  “You are here,” he pointed out.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I have to be here,” she said. “This is my duty; to watch.”

  “I know,” he replied. “But do you have to sit here?”

  He meant it half in jest, but she lowered her gaze and blushed, and he realized that he had insulted her.

  “I suppose not,” she said quietly and picked up her parchment. He felt as if he should say something, and stepped in front of her.

  “Or I could just tell my men to avert their gaze,” he replied. “It’s not as if they shouldn't know that. If they are distracted in battle, by even one thing, then they will not be able to win.”

  “Oh,” she replied. “That would be very kind of you.”

  He realized how ridiculous he had been, coming up the hill to ask this of her when she had done nothing wrong. After all, it was not as if she were inappropriately clothed, or moving in a strange way. She was simply sitting there, sketching with a piece of lead. She was a resident of this camp, and a guest of his father’s.

  “I will tell them that,” he said. “Perhaps...you would like to come closer?”

  “I thought my presence was a problem,” she replied.

  “It should not be,” he said. “And I am happy to have you down there. My father would probably prefer you to observe anyway.”

  “Hmm,” she said, as she got up. He was taken aback, once again, by how beautiful she was. It was as if he forgot every time she turned her head, and then she would turn back and he was struck once again.

  He had never met anyone that had this effect on his mind. When he closed his eyes, no matter where he was, he would see her sparkling eyes. Still, his mind could not do justice to her presence in front of him.

  Isla slowly made her
way down the hill, and she stumbled when they got to a particularly steep spot. He put his hand out to catch her and she gripped onto his strong fingers as she righted herself.

  It was the first time they had touched, and he felt a shudder go down his spine. He felt like he had been struck by lightning, or fallen into a pool of hot and cold water all at once.

  Isla quickly let go of his hand and met his eyes.

  “My apologies,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No apology necessary,” he said, as they made their way down the rest of the hill. He smiled at her, giving her the courage he hoped that she took without offense, to move forward.

  “Alright men,” he said, once they got to the lineup of troops. All of them were staring at her, but the looks they gave her were not equal. Some of them stared at her in shock. Others of them stared in awe, and some stared in annoyance. Cameron knew there were many mixed feelings towards Isla. Some of them worshipped her, others were terrified of her. Some of them thought she was a beautiful woman who should be respected, and others thought that she was a beautiful woman that should belong to them. He never knew who was going to be thinking what, and he was glad that she didn’t go many places alone. “Isla, as you know, will lead us into battle, and so you should get used to her being here. I believe the plan is to have her at the helm of the troops, between Lewis and I. And so, if I see even one movement out of line, during drills, I will assume that you are not fit for battle and pull you out. And if you are not fit for battle, then I am not sure what your place is here.”

  “But sir…” someone said, and he shook his head.

  “Now, to your starting positions.”

  Isla said nothing as she watched, and Cameron wondered what she was thinking. She was hard to read, and he wondered if she worked at having such a neutral expression, or whether it came naturally. She watched as they walked through their drills, pacing behind him as if she was his sub-commander.

  He thought it was very odd, but he admitted, only to himself, that he enjoyed it. Her presence was actually comforting, and for a moment or two, their eyes met and they smiled at each other.

  “What are you doing?” he asked the sergeant, for the second time. This time, the young sergeant actually reached his arm out, as if he was going to grab Isla on the way.

  Cameron could have yelled, and he could have made himself known through the entire camp. Instead, he told everyone to halt, then he brought his voice down to the lowest note and looked the sergeant in the eye. “You are dismissed."

  “What?” he asked. “But—”

  “I said you are dismissed,” he said. “Get out, now.”

  “But...forever, sir?” he asked, looking terribly embarrassed.

  “I will discuss that with Lewis. Now leave,” Cameron said, although he had already made up his mind. No one who took such a chance in drills would be allowed on the battlefield.

  No one moved, and Cameron turned to Isla. “Are you alright?” he asked her.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said to him softly, and he raised an eyebrow.

  “I should have just let him—”

  “No, don’t ruin someone’s life on my behalf. I am not worth that.”

  Of all the things he expected her to say, that was not what he thought she would utter. He actually felt sorry for her, as she gazed upon him with such large eyes. She looked away and he opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

  “You will win the battle,” she said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You will win the battle,” she said it a bit louder so that everyone could hear her. “And you will win with strength. I have watched what you are doing, and I feel it in my very soul.”

  “Is this a prediction?” Cameron asked, as a murmur went through the men.

  She shrugged. “This is what I know to be true,” she said.

  Those who believed in her magic looked delighted.

  Cameron paused as he tried to understand why she would say such a thing if magic wasn’t real. It was true that morale never hurt anyone, and they had been having trouble with morale for quite a while now. However, at the same time, he did not want to give them false hope. False hope was how men got killed.

  “Will we win by nightfall?” he asked her, pushing the preciseness of her prediction. He did not think it was likely, based on the tactics that they were using, but he wondered what she would say.

  Isla paused and shrugged. “I am not sure. All I see are celebrations in the camp at dawn,” she replied. “Whether you win by nightfall and celebrate all night, or whether you come back at dawn and the celebrations begin then, I am not sure. But you do win.”

  “I see,” Cameron said. The focus of his men was clearly lost, and there was nothing more he could do today. “Men, you are dismissed.”

  “Can we celebrate tonight, sir?” one of them asked and he shook his head.

  “No,” he said, “because nothing is certain.”

  “But—”

  “Nothing is certain,” Cameron said, through gritted teeth. “I want you to know that. Now, if I so much as hear a peep out of the camp once I go to bed, each and every one of you will be getting up to go to Mass with me.”

  “But sir—”

  “I didn’t say you had to go into the cathedral,” he said. “But you will be going to Mass with me, walking the road at dawn, and standing outside in the cold dawn air if you have to. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” the man said, and they headed towards the camp. Cameron turned to Isla, who was watching them go.

  “Victory does not come without loss,” she said. “Just because you will win does not mean all of them will survive.”

  “Do you want to tell me which ones?” Cameron asked, but Isla looked away.

  “I am not sure,” she replied, but her voice trembled as she said it. “But the celebrations in the camp seem to be...muted.”

  “I see,” he said. “So it will barely be a victory.”

  “No,” she said. “But the grief of those missing can rock the camp.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “Maybe we’ll make choices to save lives instead of lose them.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Thank you, for allowing me to come down.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I should tend to the men.”

  “Of course,” she said, and looked back up the hill. “I believe I shall go back to drawing. I like to sit up high; it makes me feel closer to the gods.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, as she started to climb the hill again. Her words had an effect on him, and while he hoped they would win, he also hoped that his grief would not be unmanageable after the battle. He had faced enough grief to serve a lifetime, within his own bloodline, and he was not eager for more.

  6

  Isla was frustrated with the campfire in front of her. David had taught her how to do this many times, and yet it seemed to elude her. She didn’t know where David was on this evening, but she was certain that he would be back soon, and he would be angry if the fire wasn’t lit.

  She took the sticks once more in her hand, rubbed them together, and then pressed them down on the ground and pressed her warm palms into them. She closed her eyes, and with a slight movement, focused on the warmth underneath her hands.

  She felt the lick of a flame and pulled back right away. She bent down and started to blow. She wanted a roaring fire by the time he got back so that he could be proud of her. Or, at the very least, she hoped he didn’t yell at her.

  She looked up and saw Lewis standing in front of her.

  He looked so different from when they were children. He had been six or seven years older than her, and she thought, at the time, that it was a lifetime. But now, as they stood in the camp together, with the tents and the fires around them, she realized that he must have been just as lost as her, in those early years. The weight on his shoulders, to grow up and have a family and carry on the family name, must have weighed heavily. Her only respon
sibilities at the time had been to pick herbs and heal minor wounds.

  She did not like the look on his face. This was Lewis, who used to play sticks with her at the river. Lewis, who challenged her to race him across the field. Now, he looked like he didn’t know her. He looked like he might be afraid of her, which she thought was even worse.

  “Hello,” she said. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “I have never seen anyone light a fire the way you just did,” he said.

  She did not say anything and settled back on the ground as the flames started to get higher.

  “How are you?” she asked, trying to act casually. She wasn’t supposed to use any of her tricks around intimate eyes, especially if they weren't refined yet. She hoped that David would not be too angry with her.

  “I am alright,” he said. “I just thought that a walk by the riverbed would clear my head for a moment, and I saw you here.”

  “I appreciate the company,” she said, as she looked back at camp. “It is hard to enter a community where you know no one.”

  “And where all of them are men, staring at you as if you are a creature?” he asked her, and she relaxed a bit.

  “I did not intend to say anything,” she replied. “This is my duty.”

  “Of course it is your duty,” he responded. “But that does not mean you should feel like a prisoner.”

  Isla shivered at that word.

  “How did you end up as the commander of an army, Lewis?” she asked. “It is a future that I never predicted for you.”

  “What future did you predict for me, then?”

  She shook her head. “We were children,” she said. “It is hard to see anyone’s future clearly. Parents may hope that their children have a certain future, but they cannot see it. Still, I thought that you would be...I don’t know. Maybe a merchant, like your father. Or perhaps an explorer, seeing great lands and writing home about the riches you found.”

  He smiled. “Well, we do see a good deal of land,” he admitted. “None of them are as exciting as I dreamed, though.”

  “What have you seen?” she asked him, as she picked at the leaves at her feet. None of them were any good for healing, but she tore them up into small pieces out of habit.