Twice Upon a Soul

by Deborah R Stigall

  “Segrid listens to the voices of the winds,” the smiling sprite replied mysteriously.

  “Magnus…m’friend…and how are ye? Much better I’m sure since ye are no longer alone.” Segrid winked a knowing purple hued eye with mischief, as he grasped Magnus’ hand in greeting.

  “I’m well, Wise Segrid,” Magnus laughed, shaking hands with the ancient sprite.

  Turning to Quinlan, Segrid bowed his head politely, as he gracefully placed his right hand across his chest. “Segrid will now take his place among the nobles. Segrid looks forward to meeting your beautiful wife.” Nodding politely, Segrid made his way into the hall, taking his seat at the table nearest the front of the room. Of all the clans of sprites within the land, Segrid’s clan was the oldest. The leader of his clan since anyone could remember, Segrid was honored with the utmost respect.

  One by one the nobles filed through the door; some with companions…some traveling alone. Each of them eyeing Mattie curiously and peering up the stairs in hopes of catching a glimpse of the Enchanted One.

  Finally, everyone was in the hall; restlessly sitting at the tables scattered through the room. There was a steady hum rising from the group, the buzzing of voices whispering in wonder about the appearance of the Laird’s long-awaited wife.

  Taking his place at the head table, Quinlan stood beside his chair. Nodding at Zelda who was standing beside the door, he stared out across the hall and the many expectant faces. This was the first time the Feast of the Full Moon had been held at Macleod Castle. Never before had the clans of the sprites ever considered it worthy of such a gathering. But since Taylor had returned, the sprites had quickly agreed that the castle was acceptable…after all; Taylor was the gifted one returning to the land from which her ancestors had once reigned over all of the clans.

  The restless bodies squirming in their seats, the narrowed eyes staring up at him for an explanation, Quinlan glanced uncomfortably toward the door…wondering what was taking Zelda so long. Clapping his hands, he nodded to the musicians to take up their instruments, motioned for the serving sprites to begin pouring the wine. “Perhaps, that’ll calm everyone’s nerves,” he thought hopefully as the lutes’ notes filled the air.

  “M’Laird…Her is gone,” Zelda gasped for breath, holding onto the door facing for support.

  “What d’ye mean she’s gone…I left her in her room!” Quinlan rushed across the room and grabbed Zelda by the shoulders, nearly lifting her tiny feet off the floor.

  Instantly, the buzz of the whispers strengthened to a roar as the noble sprites rose from their seats. Gathering closer to Quinlan, they pushed and shoved, each anxious to find out what had happened.

  “Zelda…knock…on…door,” she sputtered breathlessly, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. “When Her not answer…Zelda open door. Her no where in the room.” Pulling a tattered piece of green velvet from her pocket, Zelda held it out to Quinlan. “Zelda find this hung upon jagged board in doorway. Zelda think it come from Her gown.”

  Gathering the torn piece of cloth between his hands, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists, Quinlan stared out among the nobles, his enraged eyes searching the crowd. “Which one of ye knows what has happened to m’wife? Which one of ye dishonored m’house in such a way?”

  The muttering of voices immediately grew quiet as a cruel laugh rose from the outer doorway. “She’s no’ your wife, ye lying mortal. I’ve seen it through the mirror I sent to her room. All of ye…now see it as well. See the truth from the Enchantress’ own lips!” Tossing a cloud of crystal dust pulled from a drawstring pouch hanging on his belt, Elwin held up both of his hands to the cloud, suspending the floating mass of crystals near the ceiling over the crowd. Images immediately shimmered across the surface, images of Taylor sleeping alone in her bed. His eyes widening with concentration, Elwin nodded toward the crystal cloud…as he focused his energies on the revealing crystals, the crowd was able to clearly hear Taylor’s words…I don’t remember being your wife.

  The noble sprites, grown suddenly silent turned to Quinlan, eyes narrowing as they waited for his response. If the One did not remember the mortal as her mate, then the Enchantress was fair game to them all.

  “What have ye done with my wife ye bastard!” Quinlan roared as he pulled his sword from his belt.

  His evil laugh echoing across the room, Elwin filled both hands with crystal dust, flinging it madly in the air. When the cloud of dust had finally settled, Quinlan’s eyes wildly searched the room. Elwin had completely disappeared from sight…leaving no trace of where he had gone…or where he had taken Taylor.

  Chapter Twenty

  Struggling against the cloth binding her wrists, trying to work the gag from her mouth, Taylor bounced around the back of the straw-filled wagon as it rolled quickly across the rocky path. Staring up into the star-filled sky, Taylor blinked her eyes hard to hold back the tears. “You haven’t got time for crying right now! Concentrate on getting out of this mess!”

  Silently refusing to give up, Taylor nearly rubbed her wrists raw. But finally as she felt the rags growing wet with blood, she was able to slip one hand free. Quickly reaching up to pull the gag down around her neck, Taylor glanced toward the front of the wagon at her kidnappers. Proud of themselves for stealing the Enchantress out of her own room, they were happily celebrating with a flask of ectaberry wine.

  As Taylor was untying the rope from around her ankles, her hands froze as a familiar voice carried to her across the wind. Peering through the darkness at the smaller of the figures on the front seat, Taylor held her breath as she waited for them to speak again.

  “Zelda make Dulcie a slave! But Elwin see Dulcie as much more! When Elwin’s spawn is born from the Enchantress…will be Dulcie standing at his side!” The slight figure of Zelda’s daughter reached across the seat for the flask. Guzzling the wine, she giggled as a tiny rivulet missed her mouth and ran in a purple stain down her throat.

  Carefully pulling the last of the rope from her ankles, Taylor slowly began sliding toward the back of the wagon. Keeping her eyes on the laughing sprites guiding the horses, she held her breath as she finally rolled off onto the ground.

  Hitting the ground with a thud, Taylor kept rolling until she was safely out of sight behind a group of snow-covered bushes. The packed snow of the path had been softer then landing on stones, but she could still feel bruises beginning to form.

  Gathering her woolen cloak tightly around her, thankful that her captors had seen fit to bring it along, Taylor patiently waited behind the bushes until the creak of wagon wheels could no longer be heard. Painfully rising from her crouching position, she bit her lip as she scanned the moonlit landscape.

  Engrossed in releasing her limbs from their bindings, Taylor didn’t realize they’d traveled so far. Since the sprites had first tossed her face down in the straw of the wagon, she also hadn’t been able to tell what direction they’d taken from the castle during their escape.

  Gently rubbing her bleeding wrists with snow, Taylor slowly began trudging down the path. “If I follow these wagon wheels back down the hill…they’ve got to lead me back to the castle.” Reasoning aloud made Taylor feel better, the sound of her voice keeping the darkness at bay.

  She hugged her body tightly as she slowly limped down the road, her eyes constantly darting around her. The two sprites that had taken her were following the orders of someone named Elwin. Taylor wondered if they were the only two he had sent. What if he had planted others in the castle…would they soon be following the same road? “Stop talking yourself into a panic, Taylor!” she ordered herself aloud.

  Hearing the crunch of someone’s weight in the snow, Taylor immediately flattened herself behind a deep drift. Holding her breath, she strained her ears, listening for the approaching intruder.

  “Rowrrrr!” Jasper purred as he dove over the drift, bumping his head affectionately against Taylor’s cheek.

  Wrapping her arms around Jasper’s thick furry neck, Taylor l
aughed and cried at the same time. “Jasper! You nearly scarred me to death! But I am so glad to see you!”

  Sniffing the blood on Taylor’s wrists, Jasper emitted a low-throated growl. Flattening his ears as he raised his head to search the landscape, he flipped the very tip of his tail in anticipation of the hunt.

  “I’m all right, Jasper,” Taylor soothed, crawling her way out from behind the drift. “Just help me find my way back home…it’s getting pretty cold in this night air.”

  “If ye’d stayed in the wagon, ye’d be warm by now…awaiting me in my bed.” Elwin stood in the middle of the road, his dagger drawn as he eyed Jasper’s menacing stance.

  “Who are you?” Taylor snapped, slowly moving backwards to rest her hand on Jasper’s back.

  Nodding his head curtly as he never took his eyes from the great cat, Elwin smiled widely, displaying his sharp teeth proudly. “Elwin the Dark…Laird over all the clans to the east of the valley…and your husband-to-be.”

  Swallowing hard, Taylor pulled her cloak even tighter, covering the revealing neckline of her dress. “I have a h-husband,” she stammered across the snow, her voice cracking with fear.

  Moving slowly closer to Taylor, Elwin grinned maliciously as he twirled his sharply pointed dagger between his fingers and thumb. “That’s no’ what ye said earlier today. Ye said ye didna’ remember the mortal ye wed long ago.”

  “How do you know that?” Taylor whispered anxiously, trying to remember if perhaps Dulcie had been in the room.

  “I will give ye credit, though,” Elwin sarcastically continued, as he drew another knife from his belt. “I did hear ye tell the wee mortal that ye thought ye might love him…and ye were willing to make a fresh start.”

  Jasper’s growling grew increasingly louder, warning Elwin with each step that he took. The great cat crouched at Taylor’s side, ready to spring should Elwin make the mistake of taking one step too far.

  Shivering more from the pounding of her heart then from exposure to the cold, Taylor glared at Elwin’s repugnant face in the revealing light of the sparkling moon. Her voice growing calmer as she sidled closer to Jasper, she jutted her chin out in defiance. “He’ll never let you take me…he’ll kill you first. Just let us be on our way and I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Throwing his head back, Elwin’s shoulders shook as his venomous laughter rang out into the trees. Pointing the longest of his deadly knives toward the center of Jasper’s chest, Elwin closed one eye as though taking aim. “I’ve been killing great white leopards since I was a wee cub m’self. Surely…ye have a better threat then that?”

  Her breath coming hard, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear the blood roaring in her ears, Taylor bent her head to Jasper’s, her mouth close to his ear and calmly spoke two words. “Kill him.”

  Jasper immediately sprang into action lunging at Elwin’s throat. The two fell back against the ground with a thud, Elwin’s knives flashing in the light of the moon. Stabbing the great cat in the sides until the white fur was stained with red, Elwin’s arms finally grew still as Jasper’s jaws clamped down upon his throat.

  Rushing to Jasper, positive Elwin to be dead, Taylor knelt by the great cat’s side. Gently placing her hand on his back, she sobbed, “Jasper…it’s over….he’s hurt you so badly…please be all right.”

  Releasing his jaws from Elwin’s throat, Jasper turned his head slowly toward Taylor. The pressure gone from his esophagus supplying him with one last dying breath, Elwin raised his arm in the darkness, plunging the dagger deeply into Taylor’s side. “If….I….canna…breed…ye…no…one…will,” he gurgled through the blood in his mouth. Immediately, Jasper silenced him by snapping his neck with one crushing blow of his paw.

  Gasping in pain, Taylor curled to her side, her hands wrapped tightly around the knife wedged between her ribs. Weak from blood loss, Jasper crawled to her side, gently licking the tears from her cheeks.

  “Jasper…we’re…going to…die….” Taylor whispered to the gentle cat. Slowly pulling herself closer to his body, she lost consciousness as she laid her head against his bloodstained fur.

  ~*~

  Sheathing a dagger in each of his boots, Quinlan added yet another knife to his belt. The ancient sword of his ancestry swinging at his side, he fastened his crimson cloak tightly about his neck. Turning to Zelda, he nodded toward the great hall, his lip curled in a disdainful sneer. “Make sure all the nobles see themselves out.” Quinlan could care less that he was leaving with a hall full of noblemen from every corner of the land. The only thing that existed or mattered was getting Taylor safely back home. Besides, in accordance with the ancient laws of their land, the sprites felt Quinlan had no rights…after all he was now even more of an outsider then before…because his marriage had been proven to be non-existent.

  “I’ll be going with ye, lad,” Magnus intoned quietly, strapping his own daggers to his legs. “Will we be going by horse…or traveling on foot; since ye dinna know how far they may have gone?”

  His jaw muscles rippling as he clenched his teeth, Quinlan hefted a bundle of blankets from the table. “I’ll be on horseback….with blankets and healing herbs…for when we finally find her.” Staring into the fire, his eyes narrowing to mere slits, his voice was cold and filled with dread. “There is no way of knowing what condition she’ll be in. Hopefully, he willna’ have had time to hurt her. Thank the Furies that Elwin’s ego demanded he stay behind and crow about his handiwork.”

  Jabbing the fire vehemently with the poker as he spoke, Quinlan blindly watched the sparks fly up the chimney. Turning to Magnus, he clapped the red-bearded man on both shoulders, his eyes filled with despair and pain. “You…my friend…I need ye to travel the best way a spirit can. Ye’ll be able to locate her much quicker…cover more ground; then return and lead me to her.”

  Nodding solemnly, Magnus turned to Mattie, hugging herself as she rocked by the fire. Her eyes swollen and red from crying, she stared dejectedly into the flames, desolate at the loss of her friend. “We’ll find her, lass. Dinna worry,” Magnus whispered as he brushed his lips to her tear dampened cheek.

  “You’ve got to save her,” Mattie hiccuped through her sobs, never taking her eyes from the burning coals.

  “We will…and we’ll be a bringin’ her back safely. I swear to ye…or I’ll ne’er return at all.” The cold hatred shining from Quinlan’s eyes added a chill to the room. “Go now, Magnus. I beseech ye….we have little time to save the lass.”

  Nodding once, Magnus’ form slowly began to shimmer and fade, his gaze resting on Mattie as he disappeared from the room.

  Striding through the door, Quinlan left it open to the night, as he quickly mounted his awaiting horse. Glancing back at Mattie, he curtly nodded once; as he spurred his horse to follow the wagon tracks he’d been able to locate in the snow.

  Zelda hurried across the room, gently closing the door against the chill wind of the night. Turning to wipe a tear from her own pale cheek, her eyes fell upon Mattie’s tear-streaked face. “Her will be found by the Laird. Zelda know Him will ne’er let Elwin take Her.”

  Finally tearing her gaze from the hearth, Mattie hopelessly stared up into Zelda’s face. Slowly rising from the rocker, she paced about the room, hugging her body against the dread filling her soul. “They’ve got to find her Zelda. They’ve got to save her. Hasn’t she been through enough as it is?”

  Pressing a cup of tea into Mattie’s trembling hands, Zelda nodded as she led her to sit at the table. “Her has been through more then even Her knows. ‘Tis time Her found some happiness.”

  Staring down into the steaming liquid swirling in her cup, Mattie lightly traced her finger around the rim. Finally looking up into Zelda’s eyes, she shook her head slowly as she spoke. “Before Taylor crossed over…when we were trying to find Quinlan, we hypnotized her and were able to speak with a Taelhar. Tell me Zelda…about the past. How did Taelhar come to be?”

  Zelda nodded, slightly tilting her head to one
side, her eyes misting over as she recalled the visions of the past. “’Twas long ago…numbers of years hard ta’ describe from the place from whence ye came…but longer then ye can imagine possible in the lifetime of but one soul. Her was born ta’ a gifted elfin woman, the last of the Ancient Ones. The Ones were wise and revered across the entire land, ruling all living things in fairness.” Rising to return to the hearth to fill her own cup with tea, Zelda gazed hypnotically into the flames, as she continued her story in a slightly faltering voice. “Some say Her father was a spirit, traveling from another place…no one know for sure. Her mother was great woman, kind and good…all animals would serve her and hear her words. But mother died bringing forth Her…begging Furies ta’ care for her child as her spirit left her body. Furies give child ta’ men of yer place…they are unwise with gift they were given. Try ta’ destroy enchanted maiden…think it will make Her powers their own. Then is when Laird Quinlan save Her from bloodletting. They travel here and join for all time. Furies angered with Quinlan…jealous at vows said beneath stars. Wrongly, Furies believe lies woven by Druids…return Her to them before they find the truth.”

  “How were they able to find the truth? Who told the Furies the Druids had lied about Quinlan and Taylor?” Mattie leaned forward with interest, sipping her tea; her eyes round with wonder as she listened.

  Smiling, Zelda patted her hand; her violet eyes alight with the memories. “Yer Magnus tell the Furies the truth. They know Magnus willna’ lie.”

  Her eyes growing sad, Zelda’s brow wrinkled with a frown as she continued the rest of her tale. “They rip Her away from evil priests, accidentally shatter Her soul…have ta’ send Her to the Mighty Brighid Herself ta’ heal and mend then reborn Her into yer land.”

  Zelda rose stiffly from the bench, brushing her hands against her dress. Gathering the empty teacups from the table, she slowly moved across the stone floor; her feet dragging as though her unhappiness hung like a weight about her shoulders. Placing the dishes into the wash tub, she paused, leaning heavily against the sides of the wooden tub. Her white head bowed, she stared down into the water, her teardrops falling one by one to shatter her reflection.