by Clare Wilson
As they walked down a dirt road towards another farm, Lizzy recognised it as Old Wilson’s farm. ‘Can Old Wilson help us?’ she asked, perplexed.
‘As I said when we set out,’ the Laird replied, ‘he has been a friend of both Torean and me for many years. While we went our separate ways when I was sent off to school, there has been a bond between us which could not be broken. Torean was always in trouble, he seems to attract it.’ The old man was smiling as he spoke to Lizzy. He was imagining the scrapes they had gotten into as youngsters. ‘Wilson always seemed to know what Torean was doing, if anyone can guess where they are hiding and to what purpose he will know.’
Lizzy smiled, relieved by what the Laird had said. Surely Old Wilson would be able to help them work out what to do next.
At that, they turned a corner into a farm yard with a large house surrounded by several outbuildings which formed a sort of courtyard. Wilson had seen the two coming up the drive and was waiting for them at the front door. He was a large man, who looked as wide as he was tall. He had rosy cheeks and thinning ginger hair, which was currently covered by his usual bunnet. ‘You had best come in,’ he bellowed, ushering them to hurry towards the house. ‘I wasn't expecting such an unlikely pair, but I think I know why you’re here.’
Lizzy looked at the Laird and he gestured for her to enter the house in front of him. They went straight through to the large, warm kitchen and Wilson signalled for them to sit down.
‘Mary, my love,’ said Wilson, turning to his wife who was standing in the corner of the kitchen. ‘Would you put on the kettle for a cup of tea? Our two visitors look weary from their walk here.’
Mary beamed at her husband. She was the opposite of him in that she was a small woman, but she too was rather rotund. Like her husband she had very red cheeks, and a large, kind face. She turned to lift a giant kettle which hung in the centre of a large fireplace. ‘Of course, it's as always lovely to see you again, Angus,’ she said, smiling. ‘I am sorry we weren't better prepared for your visit. If I had known…’
The Laird smiled. ‘My dear lady,’ he said, looking around the kitchen, ‘your home is always the perfect welcome. Thank you for having Lizzy and I here.’
‘Well,’ said Wilson impatiently. ‘Enough with the formalities, I assume you are here because of our friend, Torean?’
‘Yes,’ the Laird said sombrely. ‘You will be aware of what has happened to his farm, I presume?’
‘Yes, that I am, but am I to take it from your visit that you weren't party to any of this business?’
‘Of course not!’ the Laird exclaimed, clearly shocked.
‘Forgive me, Angus,’ said Wilson, embarrassed by the reaction he had received from the Laird. He regretted the words as soon as he had said them, but had been worried about Torean and his family for some time. ‘You see, Torean has been troubled by the Sheriff quite regularly recently, and was repeatedly accused of crimes against yourself and the estate.’
‘Well,’ said the Laird, looking angrily at the floor. ‘I have only recently been made fully aware of the situation in that respect. I can assure you Sheriff MacDonald was not working under my instruction.’
‘May I ask who he was working then?’ Wilson asked, now curious as to what could have been happening.
‘It appears my niece, was involved in those visits Torean received,’ the Laird said. ‘Lizzy and I will get to that matter shortly,’ he added, feeling uncomfortable discussing that part of the situation. ‘We came here because we need to help Torean and his family, and we need to know what you know of their plight.’
‘Well,’ Wilson said, removing his bunnet and rubbing his balding head. ‘Several days ago, in the early hours of the morning, I received a visit from Aneirin. He came bringing the majority of Torean’s livestock with him and asked if they could be stored here. I obliged, but couldn't get much from the boy about why Torean needed this help. He simply said there was a serious situation, and that the family may need to go away for a few days.’
Mrs Wilson reappeared at the table and set down a tray containing a pot of tea, some cups and some fresh toast. Lizzy set about helping her serve the tea.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Wilson smiled at his wife. ‘Angus, you'll know as well as I do that Torean has been in some scrapes in the past. He's never told me the true nature of how he ends up in these situations, but I would trust him with my life and so don't ask.’
‘Yes,’ the Laird said thoughtfully. ‘There was always something about the MacKays. Torean’s father died very suddenly, and there were similar mysterious circumstances around the death of Torean’s boy, Abhainn. Thanks to young Lizzy here, I have some information regarding what has happened to Torean’s family and their farm.’
At this, Mary sat down and the whole group seemed to gather towards the centre of the table, silent in anticipation.
‘It appears,’ continued the Laird, ‘my niece and some others in the community have become involved in something unseemly.’
Wilson and his wife looked puzzled at this statement. Lizzy simply looked down into her teacup. She knew it was hard for the Laird to reveal such information and somehow felt partly to blame for the situation.
The Laird, taking a deep breath, forced himself to carry on. ‘Torean somehow stands in the way of them accomplishing something, and they therefore seek to remove him. They burned down his home.’
Wilson and his wife gasped, they couldn’t take in what they were hearing. Although they had known someone in the community must be responsible for what had happened, they had never imagined it could be anything to do with the Laird’s niece.
‘From what I have gathered,’ the Laird said, now visibly upset by the whole subject, ‘Adaira and Aneirin escaped on horseback and Torean was believed dead. However, Lizzy overheard the group in a conversation which suggested that Torean had escaped the fire and must have gone in search of his family and shelter. As we speak, a group of men have headed into the hills to seek them out.’
Lizzy finally spoke. She knew it had taken great strength for the Laird to say what he had. In fact, she had felt the same way when she had tried to explain things to him that morning. ‘They're headed for Longford’s Pass to start their search. They believe that they have to remove the threat of Torean by destroying his staff.’
‘Well,’ said Wilson with a look of confusion on his face. ‘This all sounds very far-fetched. Although, thinking about it, there has always been something about the family. Think about his staff. I never understood why he carried one as such a young man. He said that it was tradition in his family and that he had to carry the staff and then pass it on, there's obviously more to it than that. When you say your niece has become involved in something unseemly, what sort of crime are we talking about?’
‘It appears from what Lizzy has told me,’ the Laird said, looking slightly sheepish, ‘that this business may be something of a supernatural nature.’ He could see the pair looking at one another in astonishment and held up his hands to silence them. ‘As yet, I have seen no proof of this, but whatever it is, it’s not good. Also, what you mentioned about the staff is indeed important. The men Lizzy and I overheard this morning seek to kill Torean, but their primary goal is that they should remove his staff. They seem to believe it holds some kind of power.’
Lizzy looked towards Wilson and his wife. ‘Do you know where Torean would go in times like these?’ she asked worriedly.
‘Unfortunately I would say that Longford’s Pass is a good place to start,’ Wilson said thoughtfully, once more putting his hand to his thinning head.
‘But knowing Torean, if he knew that people would go after him, he wouldn't stay there to be found. He'll have started at such a place and used it as a place to formulate a plan. From what you say, he obviously stands in the way of this group achieving an evil goal of some kind and this makes him unlikely to leave the valley altogether. While he'll want to save his family, he'll also want to ensure they don't succeed. He will have gone
somewhere which is not an obvious place to hide. Somewhere secure and somewhere which would provide a good place to defend himself.’
‘Can you think of such a place?’ The Laird asked.
‘Well, Angus, I can think of one place,’ Wilson replied in a tone which suggested he believed his idea to be outlandish. ‘But I'm not sure if even Torean would be mad enough to go there. The journey is perilous and Torean isn't as young as he was. It would also be difficult if they are, as you say, travelling with a horse.’
‘Where is this place?’ asked Lizzy impatiently.
‘My girl, the only place I can think of is Devil’s Ford,’ Wilson replied matter-of-factly.
The Laird looked shocked. ‘Surely not?’
Silence fell on the group for a moment.
‘Although,’ the Laird then said thoughtfully. ‘While it's difficult to reach, it does have all the attributes you mention, and from the West side could provide a good vantage point over the valley.’
‘Exactly,’ replied Wilson. ‘Do you think he would be mad enough to attempt it?’
‘How could we get there?’ Lizzy asked. She did not want to sit and debate matters. The girl wanted to do something to help Torean and his family.
‘Lizzy, lass,’ Wilson laughed. ‘That's a different matter altogether. It's a dangerous journey to the Ford, and even if we get there, it would be made worse by the fact there is a group of men with a head start on us.’
Mary was now looking from her husband to the Laird, hoping one of them would now say that it would be impossible for them to attempt such a thing.
‘All that being true, how would you go about getting there if you were not coming from Longford’s Pass?’ Lizzy enquired.
‘Well, coming from the West side of the hills, could it be approached from Moore’s Glen?’
‘Yes,’ said the Laird. ‘If we set off just now, and went straight for Devil’s Ford. We could be there before sun down. I would be willing to bet, that even with a head start, the men who seek Torean would not go straight for Devil’s Ford. Wilson, will you join us?’
‘Are you sure about this?’ Mrs Wilson said, looking worried. ‘Neither of you are as young as you were. And if it's true that Torean has power able to defend himself, perhaps he doesn’t need you.’
Wilson looked kindly at his wife and touched her cheek. ‘Unfortunately, I think he will need help. I doubt it'll involve us staying there and fighting with him. But we need to speak to him of what we know and then offer what assistance we can. I know this is hard for you, lass, but he would do the same if we were in danger. Could you pack us some provisions for our journey?’
‘Of course,’ she said emotionally. With a tear rolling down her cheek she rose from her chair and walked away to prepare the provisions her husband had requested.
‘We should be off as quickly as possible,’ Lizzy said. ‘I fear that every moment we waste, Torean and his family are in greater danger.’
‘She is a brave young girl, Angus,’ Wilson remarked to the Laird.
‘Well,’ the Laird replied, ‘Torean and his family mean a great deal to her. They have been like family to Lizzy.’
Lizzy simply looked at the floor as the Laird spoke. She could not bear the thought of losing them.
Within half an hour the group had set off towards the hills. They by-passed Torean’s farm on the way towards Longford’s Pass and headed into the village of Cairn Holme itself. On the opposite side of the town was a bridge leading over to Moore’s Glen; from here they could start an ascent in to the hills from a different angle than that the group heading for Longford’s Pass would have taken. They would have to walk quickly if they were to reach Torean in time. The three did not speak much as they set off about their climb. They could all sense that there was a foreboding among the group, and all knew that what they were about to attempt was insane. Unfortunately, they did not have a great deal of choice if they wished to help their friend live through this. They had all found themselves in a situation which was like something out of an adventure story.
Chapter Ten
The Dark Group Moves
At the same time as Torean’s friends were setting out to make contact, the group of men who were hunting him was arriving at Longford’s Pass. They searched the area, looking for clues as to whether he and his family had been there. Torean had covered their tracks well, and to the naked eye you would never have known anyone had passed that way.
The Sheriff turned to the group. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we must have been wrong. It does not look like anyone has been here.’ He felt slightly relieved.
The Lord Provost shot him a look of disgust and laughed. ‘Yet again, you show your ignorance, Michael. I have no idea why Lady Naithara thought you worthy of this quest. There is no obvious evidence to the naked eye. Although, if the right incantations are used we can see traces that no-one can erase.’ He was enjoying this opportunity to show that he was Naithara’s chosen one. She had taught him some of her magic, and he loved showing the group that he was her most faithful servant. He took a dark stone from his pocket and held it in his hands. After a few moments he closed his eyes. ‘Cleith!’ he yelled. The stone seemed to glow in his hand as he spoke, a dark red glow emanating from his fingertips. The wind rose in the clearing and suddenly things became more noticeable. Footprints appeared in the ground and marks where hooves had trodden. The Provost laughed a low and evil laugh. ‘With their own magic they are undone. The spell they use to conceal can also be manipulated to allow those with the right eyes to see. Gentlemen, make haste. Examine these tracks!’
‘There!’ shouted one of the men. ‘They headed this way, the marks are unmistakable!’
The Sheriff looked at the marks on the ground. ‘They can't have headed that way,’ he remarked, ‘there's nothing there. No fool would take that path seeking shelter.’
‘For once I feel the Sheriff is right,’ the Provost said, frustrated. ‘Perhaps they have deliberately set tracks hoping to send us in the wrong direction.’ The Lord Provost walked away from the tracks on the ground. ‘You two,’ he said, pointing at the local minister and the butcher from the village, ‘I want you to check the cave. Sheriff, you will come with me and we will check the opposite direction to where these tracks lead.’
The Sheriff looked despondent at the thought of having to follow the Provost anywhere, but walked behind him slowly, hoping he would not cast any more blame on him for the situation they had found themselves in. They wandered down a path from the clearing. The two men did not talk and the Lord Provost looked around the surrounding area trying to figure out where the family could have gone in this direction to seek shelter.
‘I’m not sure where they would have gone from here,’ the Sheriff said, rubbing his chin, thinking. ‘If they were to take this path it would lead them down from the hills. Do you think they may have taken this route in order to leave the valley? I can't believe the old man would leave.’
‘Perhaps,’ the Provost said musingly, looking down the route which led them from the valley. ‘Although, taking into account the nature of the threat which Torean poses, I agree that he would not run away. If he has, then he will be unable to stop us and Lady Naithara has nothing to worry about.’
‘It may be that he is not the threat Lady Naithara supposes,’ the Sheriff said hopefully. ‘Perhaps burning down his farm has scared him away. Regardless of the power he has to fight us, he will surely wish to protect his family.’
‘Surprisingly, Michael,’ the Provost said in disbelief, ‘you make a good point. However, I do not believe that he would abandon this fight. From what we have learned of Torean so far, this gift he possesses is used to stop people harnessing the power of this valley. It may be that he's sent his family this way, but that he alone has stayed among the hills. If he has done this, travelling alone he would be able to hide out in areas which would not be so obvious to us. Let us go back to the pass. I think we may need to go about this differently.’
Aft
er one last look around, the two men turned and walked back towards Longford’s Pass. The Sheriff was relieved he would not need to spend more time alone with the Lord Provost. He scared him. He had the look of a man who greatly enjoyed partaking in a manhunt. It was something the Sheriff had never particularly enjoyed, even when in the pursuit of his normal business of law enforcement.
‘Men!’ The Lord Provost shouted as he re-entered the clearing, ‘Gather round!’
The men slowly appeared from various parts of the clearing and gathered around the pair.
‘We have been discussing this situation,’ the Provost boomed, ‘and believe that the family may have separated, which is why we are getting conflicting information from this place. I would like two of you to take the path down from the hills and seek out the woman and the boy. While they pose no immediate threat, they may make good leverage if we were able to capture them. I would then like the rest of us to follow this path which has the footprints. I think that Torean may have set-off in a more dangerous direction alone in order to divide our attention.’
Two men volunteered and headed off towards the path that the Sheriff and the Provost had just come from. ‘Ruthven,’ the Provost shouted after them as they left, ‘you know some of our incantations. If you are successful in your mission I would like you to find a way to contact us. We are meeting with Lady Naithara tonight, so if you are not back by then, I will pass on details of your mission to her. Go quickly.’ At that the two men left at speed down the path. ‘Everyone else, follow me!’
The Provost, swinging his cloak, strode to the front of the group and led the men towards the path which Torean and his family had taken earlier that morning.
The Sheriff hesitantly looked about himself. Michael, this is ridiculous. This idiot is going to lead us to our deaths if he makes us walk along these narrow paths. He was correct of course, the path which led along towards Devil’s Ford was treacherous and many unsuspecting walkers found themselves stranded when the weather had changed suddenly. Even in the summer time, the weather in the valley could be unpredictable. Anything from heavy rain storms to sudden fogs could leave the group stranded. He also knew it was too late for him to turn around and leave the men. From what these people seemed capable of, they might not allow him to even if he did pluck up the courage to speak. A sudden thought then occurred to him. Am I really any better? When I felt seduced by Naithara I deliberately burned down a man’s home and left him for dead? He felt a great sense of shame wash over him.
