Wabi and Owl kept in constant contact, sometimes through cerebral communication, by far the easiest way, but not one that Owl liked very much. Owl always preferred taking to the skies and enjoyed moving at lightning speed when he needed to. So, recently, he had made a quick flight to discuss Caitlin's situation with Wabi.
When the "hoo hoo" call came, Wabi smiled and Owl came flying over his head, circling and diving like a young owl might.
"Ah, hello dear friend," said Wabi as the large creature alighted on his shoulder. "And where might you be off to, Master?" asked Owl.
"Well, after much thought, I believe it's time for a walkabout. My old legs could use some stretching, and breathing some fresh air will be good for me. Don't you agree?"
"And just where do you think this walkabout will take you?"
"I've not decided just yet, Owl. I keep getting sensations and vibrations that I feel are coming from Caitlin, but I can't be sure. Somehow it worries me enough that I feel a need to catch up with her. She may need my help, but I had hoped she would call me directly."
"Master, your senses are working well. Caitlin has been rather a busy girl the past few days and I have tried to stay close by. You have probably felt her vibrations as she has been struggling with a number of situations that are new to her She's handled them well, but a great amount of anxiety fills the very air she breathes.
"At the moment she has a new companion, an English woman, I do believe. This woman speaks Gaelic, but there is definitely an English accent, and a most proper one I might add! 'Tis music to my ears, Master. And, not only that, but this woman has just given birth to a child that Caitlin delivered in the dead of night." Owl delivered this news as he always did, trying to just present the facts and not imposing his feelings on the matter.
"Then, she's been busy. I've taken care of Thomas, the innkeeper. He'll no longer be after her, but what about the soldier? Is he still pursuing Caitlin?"
"Oh, yes, Master, I fear he is still coming for her. I haven't spotted him anywhere, but this man is obsessed with finding our Caitlin, so he's still out there somewhere."
"Owl, I must make myself more available to Caitlin, I think. I'll avoid time and place weaving if I possibly can. It may be the fastest way for me to get from one place to another, but this mode of travel takes a toll on me at this age and I won't resort to that unless it's absolutely necessary. And, I'm trying to give her room to call on her newly-found powers. They are there. She just must learn how to access them.
"When she was young, Caitlin was forever getting herself into many difficult predicaments. The child had been stung by bees so many times one would have thought she would stop robbing the hive! But, that never seemed to occur to her. Rather, that just provided her with a reason to "tend" to her own wounds." Wabi laughed aloud, remembering how the child had kept him on his toes. He could remember a few of his other students well, but Caitlin was more determined than most, which could be an asset eventually.
Owl departed with a most eloquent maneuver, wheeling high into the air, just to show that he could still perform. Wabi waved his hand and laughed at the great bird's gesture. Owl was such a fine specimen of his species, that thick tuft of feathers between his huge luminous eyes. One had to wonder at such fine workmanship from the Creator.
As he walked deeper into the forest, Wabi found himself grinning at his latest accomplishment. Of course he had known it was Thomas, the innkeeper, prowling around his house looking for Caitlin. He had hoped Thomas would keep out of his way after the dogs had taken a chunk out of his leg and owl had given him a tumble. He realized the man was not exceptionally bright, but that didn't give him license to go after Caitlin.
Shortly after Thomas had prowled around his place, Wabi had occasion to be in the village picking up some of his mulberry wine at the Wild Boar and Thomas was there, as expected. Wabi never let on he had known Thomas had been out to the cottage, and casually asked for his usual bottle of wine. Thomas went to the store room and brought it out. Handing it to Wabi, he had the audacity to ask Wabi a question.
"So, where's your niece, the healer? I haven't seen her around for a while. I could use some of her medicine as my gout is killing me."
"Oh, Thomas, I'm sorry to hear that. I understand gout can be most painful, or so Caitlin tells me. She's gone visiting some family, but I'll tell her to call on you as soon as she returns."
"Yeah, you do that. Tell her I have a gift for her. Something to thank her for helping me way back with my leg infection."
"Certainly. She always likes gifts."
Wabi stopped, but then turned back to Thomas with a question.
"Oh, by the way Thomas, I haven't seen that English lord about for some time now. Does he still stop by?" asked Wabi as if just curious.
"Uh, uh, no. He's gone back to England — for good. His wife's expecting a baby any day now, and his business is finished here," replied Thomas under his breath.
That little exchange was just enough to get Wabi's anger fired up. Did that ignoramus really think he would let him harm Caitlin? Idiot man! As he was paying Thomas for the wine, Wabi lightly touched Thomas' fingers and sent a stream of fire that raced from the man's fingertips to his brain. In an instant, the man was bowing and smiling and offering to help Wabi.
"Here, sir. Let me carry the bottle of wine for you. I can take it out to your cottage for you if you like. It would be my pleasure!" Wabi thanked him and left laughing as he did so. He had been so angry at Thomas for trying to harm Caitlin he spent some time dreaming up a very special treatment for him. In the end, he had decided the very best treatment would be to turn Thomas into a kind, gentle giant, something he would have never been in this lifetime. But, for those around him, this would indeed be a welcome change. Wabi's little streak of fire would take care of any thoughts of ever harming Caitlin. This was an easy task for Wabi and one he especially enjoyed. Plus, he really did prefer to make changes for the better, rather than turning Thomas into the toad he had almost done.
CHAPTER 39
Wabi had traveled some time when the first snowflakes began to fall. The crisp, wet sprinkling was most refreshing, and when you looked closely at just one snowflake, it was a wonder to behold. Just another example of Mother Nature's perfection thought Wabi.
Wabi was familiar with the geography of Scotland, having lived here in several lives. He had never traveled through the Black Isle, but he recognized this was where his walkabout was taking him. The Black Isle was not really an island, but a peninsula surrounded on three sides by water; the Cromarty Firth was to the north, the Beauly Firth to the south, and the Moray Firth to the east. On its western side, its boundary was marked by rivers.
If Wabi's memory served correctly, the Black Isle was originally called Ardmeanach, and there were several castles in the area. Redcastle, Castlecraig, and Cromarty Castle came to mind as he rummaged around in the many recesses of his mind. Some of these castles were still in use, but some had been deserted many years ago and were beginning to fall into ruin.
But why was he being brought to the Black Isle? It seemed a most unlikely place to go walkabout but, again, he would trust his intuition.
As the snow continued to fall, gently at the moment, Wabi was enjoying his outdoor adventure. But, he felt he might better look for a warmer place to spend the evening as the temperature was beginning to drop rapidly. He listened to see if there was anything in the wind to direct him, it usually did if he would just pay attention. He had been walking a path that led him through the woods, but as he came out from the forest, looking across a heath-covered knoll, some distance ahead he could just barely make out the outline of a building, a castle perhaps. But, whatever it was, it would take him some time to reach it.
Wabi was hopeful this dwelling or castle would be one that was a home to people and someone there would give him shelter for the evening, and tomorrow he would continue on his journey. His concern for Caitlin was mounting as was the snow.
CHAPTER 40
As he was trying to settle himself for the night, he heard a sound, a bit far off, but he heard it nevertheless. Shortly, it became clear to his ears. A coach was coming. He could hear the driver cracking his whip and calling out to the horses.
"On with you . . . you laz . . . lazy . . . scags!" And Alex heard the whip crack once again!
Then he heard the horses snorting as the man called out again, "Ho now! Ho he . . . here . . You whoa . . . now . . . whoa . . . now." And the wheels slowed down and came to a halt just a few yards from where Alex was sitting by his fire. He heard the driver talking again to someone . . . or maybe to the horses.
"Hol . . . hold here . . . stop . . ."
Alex walked out to the clearing where the coach had stopped and watched as a very large man climbed down. He was dressed with a great black cape covering his shoulders and a fur hat of some kind, both expensive items of clothing. What was someone who could dress like that doing out here in the cold, in the middle of the night? And what was he doing driving the coach? Where was his coachman?
As a matter of personal safety, Alex drew his pistol and had it held up close to his body.
"Hold on! the man yelled. "I got money! It . . here!" The man quickly began to reach into his coat.
Stepping out into the firelight now, Alex held his gun steady and pointed it directly at the stranger.
"I don't want yer money. What are ye doing here? Where's yer coachman? he asked. Alex knew this was not the soldier he was searching for, but couldn't help wonder what this "gentleman" was doing out here during the storm.
"I'm headed no. . . no. . . north, goin' to wife's family home . . . Black Isle. She . . . there and . . . a babe . . . about to have babe any . . . any day . . . tryin' to get there . . . in time . . . birth of son . . . but storm slowed me . . . trying find shelter."
"I said who are ye?" said Alex, still brandishing his pistol near the man's face. He was generally a good judge of character and this man had a look about him that set Alex's hackles on end.
The man looked straight across to Alex, both men being about the same height. "I'm Lord . . . Lord E . . ward Warwick . . . Warwick, Castle . . . in Englan . . . England." He said this as if Alex should be impressed, perhaps even bow. But Alex had spent enough time in the presence of lords and ladies to know a true gentleman when he met one, and this man might have resources, but he was no gentleman.
"Where's yer coachman?"
Coach . . . coachman desert . . . deserted me . . . last . . . stopped in village . . . he . . . never came back . . .blast him! Never any . . . no good . . . anyway. Good rid . . . riddance . . . to him."
Still, Alex had no reason to question him further and put his pistol back in his belt. Mayhap the man was doing just what he said, going to visit his wife's family in the Black Isle.
Seeing the pistol was put away, the man then began to question Alex.
"And . . . an . . . why you . . . out in weather . . . may . . . may ask?"
"I'm heading home, back to the upper Highlands. Didn't count on having to deal with an early snowstorm, however, so I'm camping under the trees until the morning."
"Then, perhaps . . . I can . . .warm . . .by . . . fire . . .you fire . . . few minutes?" asked the man, still staring at Alex.
"Aye, I reckon that could be all right," returned Alex. Far be it from him to begrudge someone seeking a little warmth before moving on in this weather.
So the "gentleman" walked over closer to the fire. Alex watched him as he took off his gloves and held his hands out to the flames. After a few moments he reached inside his coat and brought out a flask, took a large swig, and held it out to Alex.
"Would . . . you care . . .a . . . a small . . . taste? It does help . . . keep the . . . insides . . . a bit . . . bit warmer," he offered.
Alex declined the offer. First of all, he knew that alcohol and cold weather don't mix very well. The alcohol might send fire to the stomach, but it actually takes heat away from the core of the body. This was something anyone who spent a lifetime up in the Highlands learned early on. And, this "gentleman" had already consumed more than his share. Alex could see that well enough.
"Suit . . . self, but it help . . . helps on a night . . . like this."
And that statement was followed by yet another gulp of the brew. This last gulp was, apparently, the one that crossed that very fine line between enough and too much.
"So, ye are about to become a father then, it would seem," said Alex, tossing another small limb on the fire.
With the last bit of alcohol beginning to take its toll, the man's words were really beginning to slur.
"Hhrrmp . . . yes, sus . . . suppose I am. Ever man need at least one son . . . or actually, ONLY one . . . son . . . second one is . . . not much needed . . . as I see it."
"So, hopefully, ye'll be there for the happy occasion. And a new babe can bring much happiness to a family. It did to ours."
"I'm no concer . . . concerned with . . . with . . . happiness . . . just wanna son . . . carry name . . . bring more wealth . . . me when . . . comes." The man was obviously inebriated, and his speech was getting more difficult to understand. He was obviously not thinking straight, Alex realized. However, he kept his thought to himself.
"What's your wife's family name in the Black Isle?" asked Alex. After getting no response, he continued.
"My Mam originally came from there, and I believe there may be some cousins or kin of some sort still about the area. But, we stay in the higher regions pretty much, and don't get down there very often."
"Cam . . . cam . . . eroom . . . Cameroom." Really slurring his words now, the man began to walk toward the coach.
"Are ye sure ye won't stay awhile, ye may not be in the best condition to drive a coach, especially in this storm," offered Alex. He didn't much care for the man, but certainly didn't think he needed to be moving on.
"I thank you to keep pinio . . . your opinion to your . . . self . . . my condition . . . no . . . concern of . . . you . . . " With great difficulty he climbed up on the coach and picked up the reins.
"Then I'll bi . . . bid . . . you g'night . . . be . . . be movin . . . on . . . it's no far to Bla . . . Black Isle . . . now . . . will be shel . . . shelter me there."
Alex nodded to the man, then watched him as he struggled to stay upright on the seat. As soon as he was somewhat steady, he lashed out with the whip and had the horses pulling the heavy coach forward. Alex thought for moment. Something about this whole encounter felt uncomfortable to him.
First, the man was obviously under the influence of some kind of alcoholic beverage, and smelled like a brewery. Second, why would a "gentleman" be traveling in this weather? And, third, a true "gentleman" would have offered Alex to come with him and get shelter at the family's home in the Black Isle. There was more to this story than the man was telling. But, Alex was not one to put his nose into anyone else's business, unless she happened to be a small, fiery-haired healer. He finally wrapped himself tightly in his plaid, his one piece of travel gear he was never without. It offered protection when nothing else would. He closed his eyes and closed his mind to any wonderings about the man he had encountered.
Alex was concer
ned he had yet to find Caitlin. He'd talked with an old healer in one of the villages, and she told him of treating a soldier with an injured neck. She felt it had been caused by an animal, not a wound from fighting, and she was very upset as she told him the man had stolen her old horse and was seeking some woman who had killed his son. She also said the man was not in his right mind and she feared for anyone who had any dealings with him. Alex was even more afraid for Caitlin. If only he could find her! That woman could certainly be most exasperating! He had decided she was coming back to the upper Highlands with him whether she wished to or not! Well, at least he hoped so.
Morning finally came, and Alex was glad to have this night over with. He had kept the fire going for a long while, but it died down, and by morning there were just a few embers with wisps of smoke lifting into the cold, crisp morning. He was intent on making the Black Isle today, assuming the path was clear. There were only three major paths that led to the north country, and sometimes one of them was almost impassable in bad weather. He had used this one many times and was familiar with every village along the way.
He had lain awake for quite some time after Lord Warwick made his departure. Alex kept thinking of what the man had said. "Camer . . . oom. . . er . . . Cameroom," when Alex had asked him his wife's family name. Alex realized the drunken man most probably was saying "Cameron." That was a name he was most familiar with. Just a few years ago he and Jack had come down to the Isle to pick up a flock of sheep from Laird Cameron's estate. The old Laird had passed away, and the mistress was needing to sell off the stock as she had decided they could no longer operate as a sheep farm. So, Alex and Jack came down, purchased the sheep and herded them back to the farm. Since that time, he had stayed in the stables at the Cameron estate several times when passing through. Mistress Cameron offered most anyone use of her stables for their horses and, of course, the men could take shelter there also. In fact, Alex was thinking he might stay there tonight if he could make it before nightfall. Even a bed of straw in a stable was better than freezing in this weather.
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