Gill remained silent, keeping a fixed eye on the far side of the loch. ‘Wait!’ he urged, hesitating. Rave released a low growl from the depths of her stomach. ‘Whisht!’ he snapped, placing a hand on her snout. ‘There!’ he said, pointing. ‘Can you see it?’
Narrowing her eyes, Eleanor then cupped her hands, shielding them from the glare on the water, searching for whatever “it” was. She caught the movement of a white horse, casually grazing near the water’s edge, minding its own business.
‘It’s a horse,’ she said, shrugging.
A knowing curl appeared at the side of his mouth.
‘’Tis just a horse, Gill,’ she insisted, rolling her eyes.
‘Aye,’ he replied. ‘But no ordinary horse.’
Staring at him, she waited, her patience wearing thin. ‘Well?’ she finally snapped.
‘’Tis the Kelpie!’ he revealed.
‘No!’ she gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth, afraid it might hear her.
He grinned from ear to ear at her reaction. ‘Aye!’ he said.
‘Impossible! The water-horse is nothing but a myth… isn’t it?’
‘Some would believe so,’ he replied. ‘But I know different; I’ve seen it—’ He stopped, contemplating whether he should tell her exactly what he had witnessed… on more than one occasion.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Seen what?’
He frowned, pressing down on his lips, before deciding to share his secret.
‘See its mane, Nori?’
She nodded, mouth gaping. For once, he had her full attention.
‘’Tis dripping wet and covered in seaweed. That is how you know, and—’
‘Who’s that?’ she blurted, observing a man approach the horse, from behind. ‘His master?’
Gill pulled an awkward face before looking into his sister’s naive eyes.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Surely, you’ve heard the tale,’ he said.
She stared at him, trying to recall it, her sudden, sharp intake of breath, signalling the realisation of what was about to happen to the unsuspecting stranger, across the loch.
‘Oh, Gill! You must do something!’ she begged, grasping his arm. ‘Help him!’ Her blue eyes widened, horrified, as she rose to alert the stranger, while Rave broke into a resounding, frenzied bark, as if to warn him. ‘Do something!’ she then cried, seeing the stranger mount the Kelpie’s back. Frantic, she began waving her arms, calling out across the calm waters.
‘’Tis too late!’ Gill informed her.
She then stopped, knowing he was right. To the ignorant, the white stallion was seen as a prized trophy—worthy of a hefty price. And with nothing to mark its owner, the horse was there for the taking—if found roaming free.
‘Only a foolish man would interfere,’ Gill remarked, in a cold, flat tone.
Eleanor glowered at her brother, his calm observation telling her he had clearly seen it before. It seemed “the boy” had just proclaimed himself “the man”. The younger Gill—she once knew—would have taken the huge risk, and swam the loch.
‘Is there nothing we can do?’ she said, desperately hoping he would intervene.
‘He is beyond our help’—he grunted— ‘or another’s, for that matter.’
It was, and had always been, a game of deception, on the creature’s part: allowing its victim to mount it and take control, letting them believe they owned the upper hand. The Kelpie would then canter along the shore-line, at the stranger’s command, biding its time.
Gill and Eleanor looked-on, helpless, as the creature took pace, increasing its speed to a threatening gallop, while the restless stranger battled to stop it. Then, recognising his own foolishness, he attempted to jump free from its hold, but was unable to do so.
‘Jump!’ Eleanor screamed.
The doomed man looked sharp, hearing the voice of desperation cry out to him. Panic gripped him as he frantically tried to free himself from the creature’s bare back.
The Kelpie’s long, mane wrapped itself around its victim’s wrists and legs, securing its hold on the reluctant rider, before leaping into the murky depths.
Eleanor stood speechless, watching the creature take its victim to his final resting place, until the rippling water calmed itself, as though nothing had happened.
Gill felt an element of regret shroud over him, as he looked into the terrified face of his sister. Rigid with fear, she stood transfixed, in a state of disbelief.
‘Nori…’ he said, in a calm voice.
When she failed to hear him, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched. A tear fell on her flushed cheek as she turned to him. ‘We should have done something, Gill!’ she whimpered. ‘We could have—perhaps—even tried.’
‘Believe me when I tell you, Eleanor,’ he began, wiping the tear away. ‘There was nothing we could have done. He was doomed from the moment he looked into the creature’s black eyes. No man could have saved him.’
‘Nor boy,’ she snivelled.
Slowly shaking his head, he forced a crooked smile, understanding her meaning.
‘Why did I have to see it, Gill?’
‘I’m sorry, Nori, but I did not bargain on that man being there.’
‘Do you think we know’—she hesitated, unable to shake the image of the stranger being dragged to his death— ‘knew him?’
‘Who can say?’ he answered, raising his broad shoulders. ‘’Tis unlikely. Perhaps someone who had fallen on hard times—who saw an opportunity to prize himself a fine stallion. A fatal error on his part, though.’
She sighed heavily. ‘But the guilt I feel is…’ Her voice drifted, unable to express it.
‘Do not let it consume you, Eleanor. After all, we didn’t know him.’
For a moment she stared at him, dismayed at how unperturbed he seemed by the incident. There was something heartless in what he had said, and yet, deep inside, she was ashamed to admit it… He’s right! she realised. But still, we should have at least tried to… A spark of anger ignited inside her.
‘How many times have you seen it, Gillis?!’ she suddenly demanded. ‘And why did you neglect to tell me?!’
A feeling of self-reproach engulfed him, as he watched the familiar tilt of her head and raised eyebrows, as she waited for his explanation.
‘I have tried… many times,’ he implored, with outstretched hands. ‘But I was sure you would not believe me… and…’ He stalled.
‘And?’
‘I didn’t want to frighten you, knowing…’ He hesitated.
She glared at him and leaned forward, urging him to continue.
‘Knowing how you like to bathe in the loch,’ he blurted, diverting his eyes.
Eleanor drew her head back in surprise, then looked away, slightly embarrassed. But the thought was quickly cast aside, as she grasped the grim truth behind the myth. It was there, written on her face for him to see.
‘Now, do you understand why I held back from telling you?’
‘But… that could have been me, Gill!’ she cried, cupping her hands over her mouth.
‘No, Nori, you were always safe! I assure you! It never would have approached you!’
Eleanor’s eyes glared as she pointed her finger towards her guilt-ridden brother. ‘I have just seen an innocent man—’
‘How do we know he was innocent?’ he interrupted, in a vain attempt to humour her.
‘Gillis Shaw! How could you?!’
The young man hung his head in a brief moment of shame.
‘That poor man was taken to his death by that—that—creature, and you stand before me in a calm and amused manner… assuring me of my safety! This is one tale where you have my undivided attention.’
Eleanor stood, hands on hips, tapping her foot on the pebbled ground—the continuous sound of tiny stones, being crushed beneath her foot, gradually grinding him down. Aware his sister carried the same temperament as their grandmother, he thought it best to change the subject.
‘It will be dusk soon,’ he blurted, looking up. ‘And maw will be waiting. I promised her—’
‘No, you don’t, Gill!’ she snapped, wagging her finger, knowing she would prevail over him.
He sighed, surrendering defeat. ‘Be patient, a moment,’ he said, turning to leave.
‘Where are you going?’ she cried, intent on following him.
‘To fetch our supper. I left it by the tree, where you fell. Wait here, with Rave.’
Shaking her head, Eleanor watched him disappear through the trees.
‘Come with me!’ she ordered the hound, turning to face the loch again.
Gill was right; the early signs of dusks’ approach were clearly visible now. She looked across the sky at the pale-blue and orange light, following the setting sun, as it gradually faded behind the distant Highlands. Tiny speckles of light began to wink down from above, announcing the coming of night. The days were growing shorter.
She felt an unexpected chill in the air, after the deception of the day’s heat. It was, after all, late autumn. Her thoughts returned to the stranger, wondering if he had had a family: a wife and children, perhaps; and the devastation they would feel when he would never return home. She could relate to it. There would be no proof of his disappearance, unless the loch gave up his cold, bloated body. She shuddered at the idea of it happening to her, or someone they might know. But Gill’s assurance of her safety seemed definite in his mind. Feeling the brush of the cool, night air, she released her hair, letting it fall on her shoulders, then thought of her shawl.
‘Let’s fetch it, Rave!’
As the dog sprung to life, wagging her tail back and forth, Eleanor suddenly heard the resounding snap of a twig behind her.
‘Gill, can you forgive your sister for—’ She hesitated, convinced she had seen a movement among the trees.
Rave growled, cautiously lowering her head. Tail pointed straight, the dog hunched forward, ready to pounce.
‘Stay!’ she whispered. ‘Gill, is that—’
The swift, dark movement caught her eye, again. Watching and waiting, she carefully guided her hand to the belt—where her dagger usually hung—before noting its absence. She quickly gathered her thoughts, cursing herself for foolishly leaving it beside her shawl. She heard the noise again—this time—further away.
‘A feast fit for a king, eh!’ Gill shouted, appearing from her left.
Eleanor’s stomach almost heaved, as he proudly displayed the three lifeless hares, swaying under their dead weight.
Rave ran to her master’s side—the hound always excited to see him, regardless of time.
‘Here,’ he said, handing his sister her shawl and the precious dagger. ‘Maw will string you from the highest tree, should you lose that.’
Returning it to its belt, Eleanor felt the comfort of its presence.
A prized possession, the Dirk had been a family heirloom. Despite its lengthy inheritance, no-one seemed to know its true age, or origin. Handed down through the female line, the women had one unique trait in common: they were all were left-handed. And on her eighteenth birthday—as was customary—Eleanor’s mother had passed the dagger on to her.
Eleanor kept the blade sharp, on a regular basis, polishing the silver and gold fittings along its centre. A single sapphire crowned the pommel. The grip was fashioned with bog oak, while small gold studs embedded the throat of the weapon. Engraved on the back of the blade, read the initials of some of its previous owners. She glanced, with pride, at the space beneath the “R.S” where her initials “E.M.S” had been recently placed.
“I will gladly engrave your name on it, when you reach that age,” her father had promised. But his disappearance prevented him from ever doing so, and when Kai offered, she handed the dagger to him, without a second thought.
‘What do you know about it?’ Gill asked.
‘Huh?’ she returned, momentarily confused.
‘The Kelpie?’ he reminded her, rolling his eyes.
‘Only what I’ve seen here, today.’
‘Are you certain you really want to—’
‘Aye, gone on,’ she cut in, eager to listen. ‘Tell me!’
‘’Tis also known as the shape-shifting water horse,’ he began. ‘And I confess… I have seen it take its victims to their watery grave… more than once. And Nori, the victims are always men… according to Heckie. Also, the Kelpie never lures a woman.’
‘Ah, now I understand your assurance of my welfare,’ she replied. ‘I suppose… it is a comforting thought… in the light of things.’
‘They venture near lochs, streams, and rivers. It is said, they can take the form of a woman, in order to lure its victim, although… I’ve never witnessed that. They truly are a magnificent beast, Nori—and I can understand why a man should want to—’
‘Did you say, they?’
‘Aye. I’ve also seen a grey one,’ he added, his eyes dancing with excitement. ‘And what’s more… I’ve seen it up close.’
‘Really?!’ she said, raising her brow.
He slowly nodded, quite pleased with himself.
‘But… how are you still here to tell the tale?’ she queried, musing over his words. ‘And if maw finds out, she will—’
‘But she won’t, will she?’ he said, looking at her with an air of innocence.
Eleanor found herself staring back at the face of the boy again, knowing he could win her over. ‘Only if you promise not to take such idiotic risks like that again.’
‘I shall do my very best,’ he replied, with a sideward grin, before pitching his kill over his shoulder. ‘Time to go!’
Eleanor’s mind filled with curious notions as they began their journey home, urging her to ask; ‘Why has the creature not lured you, if you say you’ve seen it closely?’
‘That,’ he stated, ‘is something I do not know. I’ve been close enough for it to coax me… several times, but it just seems to… ignore me.’
She regarded him, when he gave a short laugh.
‘Perhaps the Kelpie finds me too alluring.’
‘Like Meghan Downy?’ she retorted, mocking him.
Gill kept his silence, displaying a mischievous smile on his face. ‘I can’t understand why it pays no attention to me,’ he remarked, letting her know he was unwilling to discuss his young beaux. ‘But, whatever its reason… I’m extremely thankful for it.’
‘And yet you’ve risked it, Gill.’
‘Nothing but the natural curiosity of a young man,’ he returned.
‘And a foolish one, at that!’ she mumbled.
He ignored the remark.
Darkness began its slow decent on them, as they made their way towards the incline, beyond the trees. Eleanor suddenly felt uneasy.
‘Can we go the long way?’ she asked, slowing her pace.
He stopped, sensing the nervousness in her voice, and looked to where the castle peered down at them.
‘Through the woods?’ he said, turning to her. ‘But you hate going that way.’
‘I know,’ she replied, nodding. But…’
‘They’re just old tales, Nori,’ he explained, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. ‘According to Heckie, it’s not the dead we should fear.’
‘I know, but still…’ she said, hesitating, trying to avoid looking up at the castle’s lonely, forbidding courtyard, sensing it was watching their every move.
Gill released a long, heavy sigh, and shook his head.
‘The long way it is, then,’ he said, turning his eyes from her.
A streak of silver suddenly flashed through the distant sky. Rave barked when Eleanor jumped. She grasped her brother’s arm. Gill smiled and shook his head, then looked up, seeing the heavy layers of black and grey clouds hovering beyond, against the slate-coloured sky.
‘I doubt it will come to anything, Nori,’ he surmised, attempting to calm her anxiousness.
Eleanor always feared the wrath of a thunder storm, since the time they went fishing with
Heckie, and Will. She was no more than ten, at the time, and, Gill, on the eve of seven. The storm had seemed to roll down from the Highlands, its intent, to assault itself on the world. Heckie had lost control of the small boat they were in—almost capsizing the vessel. The waves crashed over the sides, threatening to sink it. Lightening had flashed dangerously close, illuminating the loch’s choppy, black waters. Traumatised by the incident, she had refused to leave the house for a week, never setting foot in a boat again.
‘It will be fine,’ he said, taking her from her thoughts.
‘Do you think so?’ she asked, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the far-off sky.
‘Aye,’ he answered with confidence. ‘The lightning is beyond the Highlands, so don’t worry yourself, Nori.’
As they walked the long detour back from where they came, avoiding the castle, Eleanor moved closer to her brother, giving her a sense of comfort, until the bulging eyes of the three hares forced her to step away.
Together they strolled in temporary silence, save for the sound of their footsteps, pounding the dry ground beneath their feet. But above the noise of each step, an unusual emptiness pressed down on her, bringing her attention to their surroundings. It was strangely quiet, as if they were the only three in existence.
She looked down at Rave, to see if she had sensed anything. However, the hound—her grandmother described as “that nose on legs”—was too preoccupied with the kill of the day—watching the hares, as they swung loosely over her Master’s shoulder. But the momentary distraction was not enough, to avoid the eeriness that now crept up from behind. Eleanor, now aware of the ominous chill closing in on her, shuddered, feeling its unwanted presence.
Don’t look back! Don’t look back! she told herself repeatedly. But it was unavoidable; the temptation was too much.
She turned her head.
There, from the castle’s keep, she swore she saw the flicker of a pale-yellow light, blinking at her.
Chapter Twenty
‘Do you really want to go this way?’ Gill asked, as they approached the threshold of the woods. When his sister failed to respond, he turned to see her staring up at the castle.
‘Eleanor!’ he snapped.
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