"Connor, Karen. How are you faring?"
"Well as can be expected," Connor said, glancing sidelong at Karen as he sighed. "We've been doing a little research into the Sluagh and we've learned a great deal today."
"Is that so?" Brendan looked at them both, his eyes sharp with interest. "Anything that can be of use to use? More effective weapons? Knowledge of their attack patterns?"
"It's got more to do with their origin here," he said with a quick shake of his head. "They're drawn to despair… we found the source of that despair, a young woman who was treated awfully by the first six men to die. It seems the creatures come to those in the depths of misery… and offer to carry them away to their deaths. If the victim refuses, the only way to dissuaded the creatures is to give them the name of another victim to kill — or a description. In short, these creatures are being sent after men with cowpox."
Brendan's eyes widened. "That would explain the patterns we've been seeing. But why did they go after Rosemary? She was neither a man nor did she have the pox…"
"It's one of two explanations," Connor said, shaking his head sadly. "Either they weren't hunting her, but they attacked her when she wandered down onto the beach in the open like that because they were ravenous and she was easy prey… or, and I suspect this one is more likely, her own despair grew to such a fever pitch that they were attracted to it as they were to the first young woman's. Either way… she's at peace now, and these monsters are still on the hunt."
Brendan looked at Karen, his expression set. "Karen — do you know how many people are currently afflicted with the pox?"
"Yes, I've been keeping careful records," she said, nodding. "There are about a dozen current cases, including four who match the description given to the Sluagh."
"Then we'll double the guard around those houses," Brendan said firmly, calling a couple of his men over to spread the word about the new tactics for that evening.
The men looked at Karen curiously, clearly not sure what her role in all of this was, but they nodded as Brendan and Karen explained which houses would be in need of extra protection that evening. Connor cleared his throat.
"If it's all the same to you, Brendan, I'd appreciate being stationed at the young woman's house up on the hill. Her little brother is one of the potential victims, and I want to see if the creatures come to her. I've an idea or two about how to fight them."
"You go where you're most needed," Brendan said firmly. "I trust your judgment on this, Connor. You've been instrumental in handling this threat, and you have my gratitude and the Laird's."
With that, Brendan gave them both an appreciative nod, then turned and headed back to the gathering crowd of watchmen. Karen looked up at Connor and saw to her amusement and delight that there was a broad smile on his face — what Brendan had said had clearly brought him a lot of happiness. She squeezed his hand, feeling proud and fond of him, and he looked down at her with a brightness in his eyes she hadn't seen in a little while.
"Want to come with me to the blacksmith? I've an order to pick up before dark."
She hadn't been to the blacksmith's before. There was a little forge in a side street, out in the open air though it had a roof erected over it to keep it from getting rained on. There were men busy at work there — a couple of younger lads who seemed to be apprenticed to the main blacksmith, a heavyset man with a hammer in his hand who seemed to recognize Connor instantly when he saw him. With a shout of greeting, he put his hammer down and headed over, wiping the sweat and soot from his forehead with one hand as he offered them both a toothy grin.
"Connor Grant, I've got your special order ready and waiting. Ma'am," he added, giving Karen a little nod, which she returned.
"How've you been here?" Connor asked, leaning on the counter as the smith rummaged in a chest that stood by the counter.
"Utterly frantic," he said with a chuckle, jerking his head in the direction of the young men behind him, one of whom had an armful of arrows he was carrying towards a crate full of them. "The Watch looks to be working on exhausting the whole region's supply of iron. I'm thrilled to do my part, though. Terrible business what happened to poor William's family. His wife, his little son… terrible."
What William had done had been equally terrible, Karen reflected, feeling an odd pang — she wanted everyone to know what monsters those six men had been, but it didn't seem the right time to unleash such news on the villagers… not with everything else going on. It wouldn't be helpful, and it might complicate the grieving process, too. So, she held her tongue… but she knew that sooner or later, the truth would need to come out.
The village couldn't keep holding those awful men up as martyrs.
Chapter 57
It wasn't long before the smith brought out a little bag that clinked when it swayed from his hand. Connor accepted it with a broad grin, and she peeked into it when he opened the neck of the bag. It was full of what looked like small, round iron pellets, each about the size of an acorn.
"That's a small fortune's worth of iron," the smith warned him. "I'll be checking on how many Sluagh you bring down with 'em, make sure the village's got its money's worth."
"I'll do my best," Connor assured him with a broad smile, weighing one of the little iron pellets in his hand. "This is fine work. Thank you."
"Any time, Connor Grant."
"We'll leave you to it."
The smith was already hard at work again as they left, and she smiled to herself at the sound of the hammer striking the forge. So that was what that sound was. She'd heard it dozens of times but always assumed it was just general village noisiness. So many things to discover in this place… she realized with a shock that she was really looking forward to exploring a little more once the crisis was over and they had more time to themselves. She'd walk every street of the village, learn her way around, maybe work on getting everyone's name memorized… and find a good spot for a medical practice…
But all that could wait. Right now, they had monsters to hunt. And Connor seemed to want to practice with his new toys before nightfall. They headed for the hillside where she'd found him practicing with his sling all those weeks ago — it felt like years since their relationship had really begun, and she smiled softly to herself at the memory of that night, at how shy she'd been. She sat on the hillside and watched him as he flung iron pellet after iron pellet at the dead tree thirty paces from his spot, hitting the bark again and again with a satisfying clunk. It was dark by the time he was satisfied with the bullets, and the two of them headed back into town, alert and waiting for the sky to come over cloudy and for the west wind to start howling.
In the end, it was two days before the Sluagh came again. Connor, Karen and half a dozen other members of the Watch had taken to guarding Mary's house, reasoning that the creatures may come there early — either to visit with Mary and try to entreat her to let them take her, or to capture Cameron, who now matched the description Mary had given the monsters. The last two nights had been still and quiet… but tonight, a wind was stirring, and Mary could smell the faintest hint of the foul scent of Sluagh on the air. Sure enough — that meant they were coming. Her heart pounded — she hadn't seen the monsters up close since the dead one she'd inspected, though there had been eleven taken down so far.
To her surprise, these ones circled down low around the house almost immediately, clearly not aware of the guard that was lurking in the bushes around the house. Connor held up his hand to stop a couple of them drawing their bows — his eyes were fixed intently on the crowd of creatures gathering around a window that Karen recognized as belonging to the little room Mary slept in. Sure enough — horror clutched at her heart as she saw the window sliding open, and Mary's pale face, drawn but set with determination, peeked out at the Sluagh.
"What's she saying?" Connor murmured, frowning.
For it was clear that Mary was speaking to the creatures in a low murmur, her eyes wide with the intensity of what she was saying — but neither of them
could make out the words over the rustling and flapping of the wings of the Sluagh, or over the low keening of the wind in the rooftops. Then, as quickly as she'd opened the window, Mary slammed it shut… and a shriek went up among the Sluagh, who began to flap their wings hard, hovering outside the window.
But that wasn't all. Karen's heart sank as she glanced over her shoulder and saw more winging their way in to join their fellows. Within minutes, their numbers had doubled, then tripled — it looked like the whole swarm was gathered here, beating their wings hard as they hovered outside of Mary's house, wreathed in shadow and uttering ugly hissing sounds as they gazed into the window. As Karen watched, two of them grew bold, flying straight at the window and battering at the sturdy frame with their wings. More swooped the window, and more — it became clear that they were determined to break it with their bodies if they could. And more still were coming to join them. Karen was confused — what about all the other potential victims? Why were these creatures all amassing here, outside of Mary's window?
They heard an ominous creak as the window began to give way under the onslaught, and it seemed that that was enough for Connor. He roared an instruction to the men and leapt out of the cover of the bushes, whirling his sling around his head and releasing it with deadly accuracy. A single iron bullet went flying and struck a Sluagh squarely in the ribcage — and Karen's eyes widened as she saw the little pellet melt and tear through the monster's body like a knife ripping through paper. Screaming and flapping its wings fruitlessly, the Sluagh crashed to the ground outside the house — and the rest of the men surged forward, loosing hails of arrows from their bows and shouting in triumph as Sluagh after Sluagh fell from the sky.
The wave was merciless and destructive. At least fifteen of the creatures fell, maybe twenty — it grew hard to keep track. Why were they all gathered so close together, she wondered, torn between being confused at the creatures' behavior and thrilled that so many were falling. Why had they all grouped up in one place? It wasn't long before the remainder of the still-airborne Sluagh turned tail and fled, winging their way off into the cloudy night sky as the west wind howled… and the men sent up a raucous cheer of triumph. That had to be about half the flock that had fallen to the arrows… including several that had been destroyed by Connor's sling, she noticed with a smile of pride for her bold lover and his keen aim.
"What were they doing here?" Connor wondered aloud as the men counted the bodies, eager to have a number to put to their victory. The rest of the watch were heading up the road from town, clearly nonplussed, and the story was beginning to spread of the great slaughter here at Mary's cottage. It seemed that the initial flock had spread itself between several locations, including the houses of the young men and boys with the pox. But at a certain point, they'd all turned and begun winging their way toward Mary's cottage, up here on the hill. But why?
Karen slipped away from the crowd, suspicion growing. She crept through the downstairs door to Mary's house and tiptoed up the stairs. Sure enough, the girl was still wide awake, peering out through the window at the mound of Sluagh corpses below. Her expression was blank, but she offered something that resembled a smile when she turned to see Karen.
"The men did well," she said softly. "Do you think they'll be able to kill all of them?"
"I hope so," Karen said. "What did you tell them, out there?"
"What?" But Mary's expression was evasive.
Karen knew that look. "Mary, we all saw you speaking to them… and not long after, the whole flock descended on your cottage. What did you tell them?"
"Nothing," Mary said again… but Karen narrowed her eyes and folded her arms, an old trick of her mother's. Mary exhaled. "Fine. I told them to stop hunting men with pox, alright? I told them to come after me and me alone… if they could get me."
Karen's eyes widened. She'd amended the instruction… and the creatures had obeyed. "Mary…"
"That way, everyone's safe," Mary said firmly. "Everyone who wants to live will live."
"But what about —" She took a deep breath when Mary fixed her baleful gaze on her. What could she say to that?
How could she comfort a girl who was determined to die?
Chapter 58
The Sluagh started coming every night, after that, the west wind howling whenever the sun began to set. The Watch was first exhilarated at having more opportunities to hunt the creature, and that first night Mary's cottage was utterly surrounded by eager men with bows and arrows. But it seemed that the Sluagh had changed tactics… the ones that remained were much cannier than the ones that had been slaughtered the night before, and arrow after arrow flew without finding any target but shadow and air. The mocking laughter of the creatures made the men angry, reckless, and several injuries were sustained by guards breaking rank and getting dived on by an agile Sluagh he didn't see coming. Karen was back on medical duty, patching up the wounds that were dealt, frowning at every low curse from a soldier whose shot went wide.
"I just don't know what to do," Karen confessed to Connor a few days later as they lay together in the afterglow of a rather pleasant afternoon of lovemaking. Physical contact was of great reassurance and comfort to them both, and sex was as good a way as any of dealing with some of the stress of their situation… but it was never long until the worries started creeping back.
Connor heaved a sigh, squeezing her tight to his side, not even needing to ask what she was talking about at this point — they were both equally preoccupied.
"I mean, what can I tell her? Set the monsters on your little brother again?"
Word had spread through the village that the Sluagh were focusing on Mary's cottage now. Nobody was quite sure why — Connor and Karen were keeping the full story to themselves for now, so the prevailing theory was that the monsters had gotten a taste for young children with the pox, and as such were stalking Cameron. Whether or not the little boy himself knew the full story was anyone's guess — gripped by the cowpox, he was spending most of his time either feverish or fast asleep, and was hardly in a fit state to be told that he was being stalked by the airborne monsters that were at his sister's beck and call.
"I don't like that we didn't see them fly off again last night," Connor muttered, frowning. It had been three nights since that first night defending Mary's cottage, and morale was low. The creatures were so hard to kill that they'd only brought three down since that triumphant first night, and at least twenty remained, maybe more. At this rate it would be weeks until the things were all dead — and who knew what could happen in that time? There had already been so many near misses… it was only a matter of time before a Sluagh grabbed a tired or unwary guard and carried him away. They were getting hungry again after feeding on Rosemary…
"Where do you think they went?" she asked, frowning a little. Usually the Sluagh disappeared into the sky just before dawn, but last night they'd stayed out surprisingly late for them — before disappearing rather abruptly, and without their usual ascent into the sky, though shadow had obscured their passage and she hadn't been able to see where they'd gone. "The sunlight kills them — they'd not be in the forest or something, surely."
"I have my suspicions that they're lingering in the root cellar under the cottage," Connor said with a shake of his head. "That means they'll be out the minute night falls."
"We'll get them," she reassured him, pressing her head affectionately against his shoulder. "Whatever it takes. And maybe in the meantime I can figure out something to tell Mary to do … some way of fixing this. I don't want them taking her."
Sure enough, when they headed up the hill later that afternoon, the rest of the watchmen had assembled early, too. A skeleton crew was left guarding the rest of the village, with Brendan concerned that the Sluagh might take the concentration of guards at Mary's cottage as an opportunity to prey on the rest of the village while it was undefended. But it seemed the creatures were very good at following orders, because none of them had been so much as spotted outside of the vi
cinity of Mary's cottage.
As they waited, Karen frowned, blinking a little as she looked at the field adjacent to the cottage as the last of the sunlight faded from the sky. There was a strange, shadowy quality to the light there, as though it wasn't quite reaching the ground… and she cried out in shock as she realized what was happening. A cellar door was being lifted, slowly but surely, and Sluagh were creeping out of it, their horrible black eyes fixed on the unwary guards with their backs to the cellar.
Thankfully, the warning helped spare most of them. The guards spun, shouting in fear and alarm, and were able to draw their swords — but to Karen's horror, not before a Sluagh had struck, and struck successfully. It dug its hideous talons deep into his shoulders even as he flailed at it with his iron sword — but the weapon dropped from his fingers as with a few powerful beats of its horrible leathery wings, the Sluagh bore him aloft. Karen screamed, powerless to do anything as she watched the guard's feet rise higher and higher above the ground, kicking and flailing as he went. The other guards were shouting too, falling over themselves to ready arrows as the gloomy night closed in. Shot after shot went wide… it was clear they were all too worried about hitting their friend to shoot the Sluagh, and their aim wasn't helped by the fierce west wind that buffeted the arrows out of the way as though under the control of the monsters. Then the clouds covered the man, and he was gone. And just like the night that Rosemary had died, so too did the Sluagh disappear along with the west wind, leaving the guards shellshocked and lost under the twilight sky.
"No," Connor said, dropping his shoulders as he stared into the clouds that had covered his comrade.
Karen was horrorstruck — all she could do was take his hand in hers and squeeze it. He'd shot bullet after bullet at the creature, but all of them had missed — they were agile, these remaining Sluagh, and very clever.
Troubled By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 6) Page 23