Seven Moons Back to the Highlands

by Deborah R Stigall

  Seven Moons Back To the Highlands

  Deborah Stigall

  Smashwords Edition

  COPYRIGHT 2008 © by DEBORAH R. STIGALL

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  ISBN 978-1-4357-3106-6

  Discover other titles by Deborah Stigall at Smashwords.com:

  A Heartbeat Back to the Highlands

  Awakening Her Soul to Destiny

  Twice Upon a Soul

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Do ye think we’ve finally found the right maiden?” Fergus leaned closer to Emrys’ grizzled head to keep Laird Caelan from hearing his words.

  Watching the Laird’s face as the dark haired young woman slowly approached the head table of the main hall; Emrys shrugged his shoulders with a great sigh.

  “It doesna look promising as yet. I thought surely this lass might be the one. The woman who’s been haunting his dreams.”

  The shy hesitant maid slowly walked down the aisle formed by the long trestle tables and benches of the meeting hall of Clan MacKay. Her tiny feet barely stirred the fresh rushes spread across the floor. Nervously, she glanced back over her shoulder at her father standing in the doorway. With his stern nod toward the front of the great room, she turned and bit her lower lip as she continued toward the huge man sitting in the seat upon the dais.

  Laird Caelan’s eyes narrowed as he watched the girl make her way towards him. His jaw muscles flexed as his mouth pulled into a grim line of disappointment. With a deep sigh, he slumped back into the chair. She wasn’t the one.

  Catching his faithful advisor’s eye, he shook his head once at Emrys to let him know that once again, they had failed him in their assigned quest.

  Grumbling under his breath as he clenched his fists in frustration, Emrys leaned toward Fergus. “Go get the lass. It makes no sense for the poor child to continue.”

  Huffing in aggravation, Fergus rolled his eyes to the heavens as he moved to intercept the girl before she made it any further across the room.

  “This is madness,” he muttered as he wove his way between the tables and gently took the young girl by the arm.

  Raising his head to meet eyes with the father at the entrance to the hall, Caelan stood to ensure he was heard above the low murmuring of the clansmen gathered at the tables.

  “I thank ye, Cormac for bringing your daughter before me. Her grace and beauty will win many suitors for her hand.”

  Cormac’s mouth tightened as he realized both he and his daughter were being graciously dismissed. Gone were the hopes of a match with the Laird of Clan MacKay.

  Jerking his head once more in Emrys’ direction, Caelan waited for Emrys to shuffle to his side.

  “We are finished here.”

  Turning, he stormed from the room, climbing the stairs to the outer walls surrounding the Keep. Of late, he had come to pacing the ancient stone walls, as he stared forlornly across his land.

  Clearing his throat, Emrys clasped his hands in front of him as Fergus also accompanied them to the wall high above the lands and the oceanfront perch upon the cliffs of Clan MacKay.

  “We thought truly that Cormac’s daughter was the one of your dreams. Her dark hair, her flashing eyes. Did she not meet the description that ye gave us?”

  Leaning back against the weather-blackened stones, Caelan crossed his arms over his chest as he frowned out at the sea.

  “Her eyes were sky blue and nothing about that meek lass even begins to compare with the woman who haunts me every night.”

  “There was nothing wrong with the lass!” Fergus burst out, unable to hold his tongue any longer. He was a warrior, not a matchmaker meant to be finding a mate for his Laird.

  “She wouldha made ye a fine match! And her dowry of lands and well fattened cattle would no’ have gone amiss.” Pacing the wall, Fergus’ ruddy face grew even redder as he ran a worried hand thru his fiery hair.

  “Then you wed her.” Caelan paced to the farthest corner of the wall that looked out over the frothy waves of the ocean.

  His eyes dropping to his feet, Fergus snorted as he shook his head. “I dinna mean to cast your feelings aside, Caelan. Ye know I care for ye as the brother I never had. But we’ve been searching for months for this woman who doesna appear to exist.”

  His muscled arms flexing as he clenched his fists to his sides, he shook his head as he continued. “We’ve other business to be about. We need to be tending to your people your clan needs your attention.”

  “And I need my true mate!” Caelan spat as he whirled from the wall, his face as stormy as the sea beyond.

  “Ye have no idea what it’s like to be tormented each night by the dreams of a woman I have yet to meet. For an entire year, she’s beckoned to me, taunted me. Made me ache with longing to hold her. She’s ruined me for all others.”

  Grabbing Fergus by the shoulder, Emrys shook his head quickly to prevent the man from saying any more.

  “The Lairds of MacKay have always been cursed in this way, Fergus. They will have no other than the one that appears to them in their dreams.”

  Shaking his head, Fergus’ cloak billowed out behind him as he moved to stomp down the stairs. “This is madness and I’ll have no more part in this mate-finding quest. Call me when ye need me to serve ye in any other way.”

  Snorting as he turned to stare out at the sea, Caelan sneered as he glanced at Emrys. “So my fine advisor, what now?”

  Scratching his beard as he joined Caelan at the edge of the wall, Emrys pursed his lips as the wind whipped across his face.

  “’Tis time to consult the Mirrors and use the elements to find the lass. By your leave, ‘tis time for magic.”

  Staring at Emrys, Caelan inhaled deeply.

  “Do whatever it takes.”

  )O(

  Her bubbling laughter floated back to him on the breeze as she tossed her head to glance at him over her shoulder. Playfully bunching up her skirts, she scampered just out of his reach across the heather covered hillside.

  The sight of her shapely legs stirred his senses; his hands flexing as he itched to run his fingers along her ivory skin to what he knew would be her welcoming heat.

  Her dark mane of hair floated in the air behind her, the raven curls tumbling down her back as her ribbons failed to imprison them. The thrill of the chase colored her cheeks, her amethyst eyes sparkling with laughter and the promise of passion.

  The twist to one side of her smiling lips belied her outstretched finger warning him to keep away. The curve of her breasts bubbled temptingly above the neckline of her gown, the swell rising and falling with each breath she took. He longed to press her against his hardened body, burying his face between the inviting mounds.

  “You’ll ne’er catch me!” Leaping gracefully through the swaying heather, she stayed just beyond his reach.

  “Aye, Ye’ll be mine this very day!” Growling playfully, he swerved around an outcropping of rocks his footing failing him as he slid down the side of the cliff, the ground giving way beneath his weight.

  Caelan woke with a start, the coverings from the bed tangling around his torso as he rolled across the floor.

  “Dammit!”

  He pounded the stones with his clenched fists, the cold rough surface assuring him that he’d once again been torn from his dream just as he was about to claim the elusive maiden.

  “Emrys!” he bellowed. Pulling himself to a sitting position, he wearily scrubbed his face, trying to shake away the fr
ustration of the incomplete dream. How many times had he chased the lovely woman? Why was it always the same? Where had he seen the violet-eyed beauty that haunted him each night always staying just beyond his reach to leave him aching with the need of her upon the cruelly abrupt awakening?

  “Again?”

  The white haired man stood in the doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes his gnarled hands still stiff and shaking from his own interrupted slumber.

  “Aye, again.”

  Caelan blew out a frustrated breath as he rose from the floor, yanking the bedclothes from around his throbbing body. “Ye’ve got to free me from this curse or better yet find the damn woman before she completely drives me mad!”

  He raked his hands through his sandy blonde hair. The muscles of his broad chest glistening with a fine sheen of sweat rose to his skin as a result of his nocturnal chase with the maiden. His eyes still hazy with the memory of the repeated dream, he absently rubbed at his throbbing shaft another painful reminder that once again he’d not caught the woman.

  Emrys slowly made his way into the room, rubbing his arthritic hands together as he shook his head. “This woman is obviously the other half of your soul the curse is full upon ye ye know there is naught I can do.”

  “Then where is she, dammit?” Caelan turned a baleful glare on the old man, his green eyes snapping like emerald fire.

  “Ye’re well aware we’ve been searching we’ve talked with all the nearby clans. We’ve e’en sent runners out to several of the surrounding isles. Every maid we’ve brought afore ye has nay stirred ye in any way.”

  Emrys ran his hands through his own tufts of unruly white hair succeeding only in making the wild shocks stand even higher.

  “Ye’re supposed to be the most powerful Druid among all the clans an all-knowing, all-seeing advisor to your laird. Now would ye be so kind as to give me a reason as to why ye have so far failed me?”

  Caelan strode across the room, snatching his plaid from the chair at the hearth and wrapping it around his body.

  Emrys propped his chin in his hand, his keen eyes peering at his laird from beneath his bushy white brows. Caelan was almost frightening to look upon in his current mood. Standing well over six and a half feet, without an ounce of fat clinging to any of his battle-hardened muscles, few men had shoulders nearly as broad or could be deemed half as powerful.

  Caelan’s dark green eyes could stop a grown man in his tracks, by merely glaring from his strong chiseled features. The only blemish marring his ruggedly handsome face was a small scar passing through his left brow. But even that only lent an air of power and control, the white scar parting the thick blonde brow at a taunting angle a reminder of a badly aimed swipe of a razor sharp claymore.

  Inhaling deeply, Emrys watched Caelan closely, battling with the choice that had been made known to him since the passing of the last full moon. Caelan was the most open minded of all the lairds he’d served but the facts he’d finally discovered about the woman of Caelan’s dreams were hard pressed for even Emrys to accept.

  “I have been searching through the Mirrors of Time. Doing whatever it takes as ye bade me.”

  Emrys straightened uncomfortably in his chair. He wondered if it was the proper time to finally voice his findings but decided there would more than likely never be a good time to reveal what he’d found.

  “And?”

  Caelan prodded him to finish, his jaw hardening as he waited for the squirming seer’s words. A niggling pang of dread began growing in his bowels he knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. He turned from staring into the dancing flames at the hearth to pierce Emrys with a baleful glare.

  “I might have finally located the lass but I dinna think ye’re going to find it a comfort to know.”

  Emrys twisted the sleeve of his robes between his gnarled fingers, the fabric snagging on the calluses of his thumbs.

  “If ye dinna stop talking in half sentences and makin’ me drag the words from yer lips, it’ll be a cold day in hell before you find any comfort of any kind again!” Caelan slammed his fist on the table, rattling the candles in their stands.

  Sighing deeply, Emrys smoothed his twisted robes over his spindly legs.

  “I believe the lass of your dreams does exist and is quite real but I’m afraid she doesna dwell in this land or this time.”

  His forehead creasing in frustrated confusion, Caelan shook his head as he slowly sank into a chair. Rubbing his face with his hands, he spoke very carefully as though trying to ensure he hadn’t misheard Emrys’ words.

  “What do ye mean she doesna dwell in this land or this time?”

  Scratching his scraggly beard, Emrys cocked his head to the side, his clear blue eyes narrowing as he recalled his latest visions from the mirrors.

  “I believe the woman dwells far into the future and even in another land that as yet is not even known to our world.”

  “If ye’re stallin’ in an attempt to save your skin for failin’ your laird in this one simple request I’d think again if I were you, old man.”

  Caelan leaned forward, his large powerful hand tightening into a fist as he spoke thru tightly clenched teeth.

  “I speak the truth! I can e’en show ye in the Mirrors if ye dinna believe me! I canna believe ye’d doubt m’word. How many years have I faithfully advised ye?”

  Emrys pursed his lips together in displeasure, his nostrils flaring at the affront to his skills as a Grand Seer. In all his days as the Druid over all of the Clans, never had he been so insulted and over a mere woman, no less!

  Rising from the chair, Caelan strode across the room, nearly ripping the heavy oaken door from its hinges.

  “After you then, Wise One. Let us make for your chambers so ye can unveil the answer to this riddle.”

  )O(

  The room smelled of herbs and something else he’d prefer not to know about. He wrinkled his nose in a sneer of distaste as he glanced around the shadowed walls.

  Caelan was an experienced warrior and a well-respected laird; but he preferred leaving the mysteries of magic and mysticism to the druids and wise Cailleachs of the clans. He left them respectfully to their own ways and devices as long as they only acted for the good of others and tended to the needs of the land and the peoples therein.

  He followed Emrys across the eerie room, the few sputtering candles doing little to dispel the shadows stretching from across the clutter-filled corners. Murky bottles and jars lined the shelves. Some of them containing objects that Caelan would rather ignore.

  They made their way to the farthest corner where the Mirrors of Time stood leaning against a stone wall. The stones surrounding the ancient mirrors were blackened as though charred by a blast of extreme heat. As tall as Caelan, the three shimmering glasses were as wide as his arms could span, the frames intricately carved knots and whorls of some long forgotten wood.

  But unlike looking glasses or polished reflecting shields, the surfaces of these mirrors were pools of blackest obsidian not reflecting a single light, shadow or shape that might pass in front of their surfaces.

  His feet planted in a defensive stance and his hands placed squarely on his hips, Caelan eyed the mirrors warily.

  “What do ye have to do to make them speak to ye or show ye what ye seek?”

  “Patience laird.”

  Emrys took his staff from the corner his form seeming to grow as he returned to stand before the mirrors. Whenever Emrys held his staff, it was as though years fell away from his body as the elemental energy pulsed thru his entire being.

  Raising his hands, he touched his staff to the mirror farthest to the right.

  “Show us the soul of the amethyst eyes show us her place show us her time let us see her let us hear her speak reveal to us the one we seek.”

  As soon as Emrys spoke the words, the mirror’s surface exploded to life. The ebony plate immediately shifted to a roiling of stormy clouds, lightening flashing in the peaks and valleys of the shapes as the image
s gained momentum across the surface of the looking glass.

  Gradually, the gray shapeless forms cleared, revealing a small white house sitting at the edge of a deep pine wood, a thin stream of smoke rising from the brick chimney nestled against the side of the tiny home.

  As Caelan leaned closer to peer at the vision, the door to the house opened. Dressed in a snug pair of well-worn jeans and an old tee shirt that clung to her shapely curves, the dark haired maiden of his dreams skipped down the steps of the house. Pulling her dark curls into a ponytail, she adeptly threaded her locks through the back of her ball cap she had slapped upon her head. Hugging herself against the chill of the cool morning air, she hurried to the woodpile stacked beside the house. Gathering a few good-sized chunks of wood, she turned on her heel and quickly hurried back toward the house, shivering as she eyed the early morning frost.

  “Sammm, Maaaizy come on time to get some breakfast.” Her musical voice carried across the field as her violet eyes scanned the horizon. At the sound of her call, a feisty rat terrier and a lumbering golden lab emerged from the trees close to the barn. Hurrying to her side, they vied with each other for her outstretched hand as they scampered up the steps beside her. Disappearing into the house, the door closed softly behind the trio.

  As the vista of the house and surrounding wood disappeared from view, the surface of the mirror returned to a liquid pool of black. The glass still shimmered occasionally with silver as though the mirror were seeking more information, finally spelled out in stark white script were the words Kentucky 2007.

  “What is Ken-tuck-y 2007?” Stepping back from the mirrors, Caelan turned to Emrys, his eyes narrowing with his question.

  Emrys returned his staff to its place in the corner, scratching the side of his head as he carefully chose his words.

  “From what I can gather from all of my path working into the future Kentucky is a place or will be a place across the seas.” Turning to peer at Caelan closely, he folded his hands in front of his robes. “And 2007 is the year in which your soul mate lives.”