Highlanders Short Story Collection

by Donna Fletcher

  Brianna watched her husband pace in front of two guards who had come to speak with him in the Great Hall. Something was amiss and she could see from his scowl that he was not happy about it. The servants went out of their way to avoid the trio, though mostly their laird.

  She could not blame them. He was a fierce looking warrior when angry and his temper had surged upon entering the hall an hour ago and learning that news of last night’s apparition had spread like wildfire and along with it… fear.

  The ghost had certainly frightened her but Royce had been quick to act. He had vaulted off the bed, the apparition disappearing as he clamped his arms around the evaporating mist.

  The two guards had stood with shocked expressions. She believed more so from seeing their laird fearless enough to attack a ghost rather than seeing the ghost themselves. Royce had ordered them from the room and told them to be off that they were no longer needed for the night. He had also warned them to hold their tongues about what they had seen but Brianna and he knew it would do no good. The entire village would hear of the ghost by first light. And they had been right.

  Royce walked over to her, running his hand lovingly over his daughter’s soft thatch of hair. She sat content on her mother’s lap trying desperately to get the attention of an old hound that slept in front of the hearth.

  “King is old and does nothing but sleep, sweetheart,” he said and kissed her plump cheek. “It is a puppy you need.”

  “What is wrong?” Brianna asked, knowing her husband delayed speaking with her.

  “A fierce snowstorm has hit and a group of travelers will not make it to the village before nightfall and that means…”

  “They will surely freeze to death if they are not helped.”

  He hunched down in front of her. His daughter smiled, gurgled and her tiny hand swung out to grab his braid that hung down the side of his head and onto his shoulder. She was quick but the mighty warrior was quicker. He grabbed her hand and gave it a kiss. She turned her attentions back to the sleeping hound.

  “I do not wish to leave you. I wish to settle this ghost matter once and for all,” he said.

  “As do I, but the travelers need our help,” she said with more courage than she felt. She would have preferred that her husband not leave, but she could not be selfish. He was the laird of the Campbell clan and had his duties to attend.

  “I wish I could say I will not be long but the snowstorm rages and while the group is not far, the storm will prevent easy and fast travel.”

  She knew what he was trying to tell her. Today was Christmas Eve and if they did not rid the keep of the ghost before midnight tonight he would disappear and return next year at this time to haunt again.

  “You must go,” she said.

  Royce hated to leave his wife. She needed him and he needed to banish the ghost as he had promised her. But she was right, he had to go and get the travelers to the village safely.

  He kissed her, a soft gentle kiss that was not meant to arouse but it did. “I will be back as soon as I can, though before I go I must tell you something.”

  Brianna listened with interest as he detailed his visit to the old woman in the woods.

  “So if we discover what he searches for he will leave us in peace?” she asked.

  “The old woman believes so and I wish I had time to find out, though I am not sure where I would start.” He kissed her again. “I will hurry.”

  “No, you must be careful. You could easily get lost in the snowstorm.”

  He laughed. “Not even a blinding blizzard can keep me from you.”

  “You will take care,” she ordered.

  He stood, leaned over, and planted another kiss on her lips, a strong one this time. “Stay in the Great Hall until I return.”

  She smiled and raised Breda’s hand to wave good-bye to her da as he slipped on his warm fur-lined cloak and drew the hood up over his head. He pulled on thick gloves and returned his daughter’s wave just as the double doors opened.

  The roaring wind swept in bringing with it a flourish of cold and snow. It blew out several candles and stirred the flames in the hearth. It took great effort on the servants’ part to close the door against the demanding wind, after which they got busy lighting the snuffed out candles and clearing away the snow.

  Brianna stood and with a quick peck to her daughter’s cheek and a hug she handed her to Sara. “I have something I must attend to.”

  She took the stairs with care and haste. Royce had helped her overcome her fears and had helped her find her courage. It had not been easy having had such a cruel first husband. She had promised herself that she would never allow fear to immobilize her again. She would take control and take action.

  She entered the room that she and Royce had shared last night. All the nights before that the ghost had only tugged at her toes or moved objects around. But in this room he had shown himself. Could there be something about this room that he was trying to tell her?

  Apprehension filled Brianna, trembling her hands and turning her legs weak. The room was fairly dark, the fire having died down to a few glowing embers since none of the servants would dare enter the room to keep it stoked.

  Brianna grabbed at the sides of her deep green wool skirt to stop her hands from trembling. She glanced around the room slowly. It was a stark room with only a bed and a small chest. It was mainly used for guests. Could something have happened to someone who had stayed here?

  She sighed wishing there was a family member she could ask and then smiled. Servants usually knew more than family members and who out of all of them knew the most… the cook.

  Brianna hurried out of the room not hearing the stone that dislodged in the hearth and fell into the lingering embers.

  Royce cursed the damn snowstorm and the damn ghost. He should be home in bed and beneath the heavy quilt pleasuring his wife. He loved long, snowy winter days. They were the perfect excuse to linger in bed. Instead, he was out in a horrific snowstorm that was going to delay his return home longer than he had been counting on.

  He grumbled and mumbled and continued to curse his misfortune when they came upon the group of travelers hunkered down against the fierce wind and snow. Brianna had been right. Many of them already looked half frozen. They would have never survived the night let alone a few more hours.

  He helped his men distribute blankets and got busy gathering everyone together. One older man, frail and bent from age and work didn’t look as if he could take another step. A carrier would need to be fashioned for him and no doubt would slow them down even more.

  Royce could almost hear Brianna chastising him for thinking such and so he began gathering branches they would need to fashion the carrier. A couple of the men in the group took over the task from Royce and he in turn went to see how the old man was doing.

  His men had fashioned a refuge for the women and children beneath the heavily laden branches of a pine tree along with the old man. They huddled around a small campfire that his men had gotten started.

  Royce hunched down beside where he sat on the ground braced against the trunk of the tree and wrapped in a fresh blanket.

  “How do you fare?” Royce asked.

  “I have survived worse, though actually it was a storm much like this one and right here in this area at Christmastime. I was but a lad. My da and I were passing through and took refuge in your village for a few days. My da would have preferred to move on with the trouble brewing there but the storm wouldn’t allow it.”

  “What trouble?”

  The old man shrugged. “I did not know the whole of it, heard most through gossip, though it was enough to scare the wits out of me.” He shook his head.

  “Tell me,” Royce urged, wondering or possibly hoping it just might have something to do with the ghost.

  The old man shivered though for some reason Royce didn’t think it had anything to do with the cold.

  “The villagers were terrified and if the gossip was true I couldn’t blame th
em. If it could happen to a Highland warrior, it certainly could happen to one of them.”

  “What happened?”

  “A brave Highland warrior disappeared from a room with guards standing right outside his door and was never seen again?”

  A twinge of fear stirred in the pit of Royce’s stomach. He recalled how the ghost had crooked his finger at Brianna. “How could that be?”

  The old man lowered his voice and whispered, “The witch got him.”

  “I know nothing,” Deidre said, busy directing half dozen helpers in the kitchen all crazed as they hurried to prepare more food not only for the travelers that would soon arrive but for those who could not survive the storm on their own. They would seek refuge in the keep.

  Brianna didn’t believe her. She had answered much too fast when asked if she knew if anything strange had happened in the room where the ghost had been seen. It was almost as if she was afraid to answer.

  She raised her voice and announced, “Leave us.”

  The servants scurried quickly out of the room.

  Once Deidre and Brianna were alone Deidre stopped chopping. “I dare not say. Please don’t ask me.”

  She heard the fear in Deidre’s quivering voice. “Is there no one who will tell me?”

  “Most who know are gone, having left by choice those many years ago or death has claimed them. I was a young child at the time and my parents didn’t know I listened as they talked. They thought of leaving but life was good here and so they decided to stay. Fear kept the secret these many years.”

  “Fear of what?”

  Deidre shook her head. “I would rather die than say.”

  Brianna understood fear. Her first husband had instilled it in her and she had no want to cause the same to Deidre. “I understand.” She turned to leave then turned back with a flourish. “The room holds the secret doesn’t it.”

  Deidre didn’t say a word but her wide eyes answered for her.

  Brianna stopped in the Great Hall to direct the servants in preparing for those who would seek shelter here. A few villagers had already arrived and shared the tale of their difficult travel to reach the keep. It made Brianna worry even more about her husband. No matter what tales were told about his daring and courageous exploits he was now her husband and a father to their daughter, and she wanted him kept safe.

  A blinding blizzard will not keep you from me. She smiled recalling his words and thought about later when he returned how they would…

  She issued more orders, then hoisted her skirt and hurried up the stairs. She’d not have tonight with her husband interrupted. She would discover the secret that only the room could tell her and lay the ghost to rest.

  A chill ran through her as she stepped into the room. The last of the embers had died, leaving the room in almost total darkness. She managed to find one of the candles along the mantel and lit it. It didn’t provide much light, but it would have to do.

  She stepped back away from the hearth and held the candle high. Her eyes spotted it immediately… a stone lying in the cold ashes.

  She hunched down to examine the stone and when she held the candle over it the flame flickered wildly as if blown by a breath or slight wind. She grew excited and stepped in the hearth having to hunch over to do so and began feeling along the stones. It wasn’t long before she found the area where the stone had fallen from and felt the slight wind that rushed through.

  She pushed on the stones in that area and when nothing happened she shoved her body against it. She was about to give up when she gave it one more try and the stone wall moved. She didn’t hesitate. She gave it a few more shoves until there was finally enough room for her to squeeze through.

  Without thought to danger, she slipped through the narrow entrance never seeing the ghost that stood behind her and followed her in.

  “What witch?” Royce asked the old man.

  “The one that lived in the woods or so I heard tell. She cast a spell on him while he was visiting the Campbell Clan. I can’t recall all the particulars, but I do remember that he was a mighty warrior from further north in the Highlands and destined to be laird of his clan. To save him from the witch his father had him locked in the room at the keep and posted guards while he and his men went in search of her. His father intended to see her burn so that his son would be free of her evil spell.”

  “What went wrong?” Royce asked.

  “The witch was found and held in the dungeon while they waited for the blizzard to end so that they could burn her for all to see.”

  Royce guessed the rest. “The witch disappeared and so did the warrior.”

  The old man nodded. “Many believed that the witch used her magic to free herself and then whisked him away. The warrior’s father openly cursed the witch and swore to go after her and find his son.” He shook his head slowly. “As soon as he finished cursing the witch, he grabbed his chest and fell to the ground dead. Some villagers left with my da and me while the others swore never to mention the witch or what had happened that Christmastime ever again for fear she would strike them dead.”

  “And you have not spoken about this all these years yet you speak of it now?”

  The old man shrugged. “I am old and death does not frighten me anymore.”

  One of Royce’s men called out to him and, with a nod to the old man, he walked over to the warrior, wondering if the Christmas ghost could be the warrior who vanished all those years ago.

  Royce hurried his men along in securing the group for travel. He wanted to get home to his wife and tell her what he had learned. If the ghost was the warrior, then perhaps he wanted his body found and finally laid to rest.

  Brianna moved along the cold stone passageway slowly, the single candle making it difficult to see where she stepped. The darkness followed behind her and she had no want to turn around. She did not know what she expected to find or even where she headed, she only knew that somehow this passageway was connected to the ghost and she had to travel it.

  She wished she had had sense enough to bring a shawl or cloak with her. The damp corridor chilled her to the bone. She inched her foot forward not sure of where she stepped and it was a good thing she did since she felt the edge of a step. She didn’t know how many steps she went down. She stopped counting after twelve, the air growing chillier and turning her thoughts to the possibility of freezing to death if she didn’t come upon an exit soon.

  The secret passageway probably led out of the keep. No doubt it had been built as an escape route and now forgotten. She kept at a snail’s pace not wanting to take the chance of injuring herself and no one finding her. She should have had one of Royce’s warriors accompany her ,but in her zeal to investigate she had not thought of it and now she was alone, on her own with no one knowing her whereabouts.

  Royce was not going to like that.

  Help.

  She froze not from the whispered plea but from the breath that tickled her ear. Someone stood behind her… close behind her.

  Help.

  Pushing her fear aside as best she could she said, “I’m trying to help you but I am not sure what to do.”

  A hand at her back urged her forward.

  Her legs almost gave way and her heart pounded so badly she thought it would burst from her chest. She had to have been a fool to enter the passageway alone—but then she hadn’t—the ghost had come with her.

  She moved forward with cautious steps, recalling what the old woman had told Royce, the ghost searches for something. She immediately asked, “What is it you want me to find?”

  Me.

  Brianna stumbled and almost fell, but righted herself just in time to prevent a fall. She continued along, trying to piece together what had happened to the ghost. He had traveled this passageway but why?

  The path curved and as she followed it a sudden wind wiped along. She reacted out of instinct not wanting to lose the only light she had. She turned shielding the candle with her body and came face to face with the ghost.
>
  He was tall and broad and stood transparent in the darkness.

  His hand reached for her face and she hastily backed away from him. A foolish move for she suddenly felt the edge of a step beneath her leather boot and she tried frantically to stop herself from falling as did the ghost.

  He reached out, trying desperately to grab her but his hands went right through her.

  Her feet went out completely from under her and she landed on her romp only to bounce off the edge of another step and tumble repeatedly down the flight of stairs that seemed to go on forever. Her head hit the last step and for a moment she was completely disoriented. She finally managed to stand, though with difficulty and pain, and she went to take a step forward when too late she saw the ghost in front of her, his hand warning her to stop.

  She tripped over something and came down hard, her head once again hitting stone. This time she could barely move. She lay still for how long she wasn’t sure… minutes, perhaps hours. Finally, she turned her head and the ghost was hunched down beside her.

  It was her turn to say, “Help.”

  He vanished and she reached out trying to find the wall in hopes of using it as a support in an attempt to stand. Instead, she touched something and not sure what it was she took hold of it and held it up in front of her eyes trying to focus in the dark. When she finally did…

  She would have screamed but she didn’t have enough strength left. She stared open-mouthed at the skeletal hand she held. She had found the remains of the ghost. That thought was her last as she descended into blessed unconsciousness.

  Royce was never so happy to enter the village and help the travelers into the keep. He assisted the old man settling him at a table close to the burning hearth. King, the hound, curled up there as usual. He gave a glance around the Great Hall hoping to spot his wife but she was nowhere to be seen. He had warned her to remain there. He had wanted her where others would be so that she would be safe. She might be busy seeing to preparations for those seeking refuge at the keep.