The Talisman
By Deborah Gafford
The Talisman
By Deborah Gafford
The Talisman
Copyright © 2011 Deborah Gafford
Second Edition, 2012
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For John. My hero, husband, and best friend.
I love you.
And for my friends Cindy, Cathy and Colleen.
Prologue
Scottish Highlands A.D. 1507
A terrified scream pierced the quiet of the Highland forest startling Ailis O'Brien. That was her sister Jenny's voice! Dropping the firewood she'd gathered in an old blanket, Ailis ran back through the woods toward the traveling wagon she shared with her father and sister.
The fading light of twilight hampered her as she hurried through the thick undergrowth. Limbs and roots appeared out of nowhere slowing her progress. A fallen tree branch snagged her skirt causing her to fall. The tumble knocked the air from her, and she lay there gasping, desperately trying to suck in enough air to move as the screaming continued. When she was able to breathe again, she crawled to her feet and yanked fiercely at her skirt freeing it from the tree limb.
The screams stopped abruptly. The sudden silence filled Ailis with panic. The encroaching darkness fed her fear and she could not run through the forest fast enough. Why, in God's name, could she not move any faster?
A flickering light glowed through the trees ahead. Flames lit the area as she burst free of the forest and ran into the clearing where her family had made camp for the night. The blaze in front of her was much too large for their small campfire. Sweet Mother Mary, their wagon was on fire!
For a moment, the silence of the night was broken only by the sharp snap and crackle of flames as they began to climb up the front end of the wagon. Then she heard a man's harsh shout and the sound of a horse's hooves retreating in the distance. Jerking her gaze toward the sound, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a man in a tartan plaid but it was too dark to make it out clearly or to tell what he looked like. Ailis glanced frantically around the empty campsite looking for her father and sister. Praying they were safe, she ran toward the burning wagon. "Da, Jenny, where are you?"
Ailis' heart pounded in her throat as she forced herself to climb into the back of the burning wagon to search for her family. She tripped just inside it and looked down. Her father's body lay in a crumpled heap. "Da, get up!"
Grabbing his tunic to pull him to safety, she felt a sticky wetness. Lifting her hands, she stared down at her fingers. They were coated with blood. Frantically, she shook his shoulder trying to rouse him and called to him again.
"Da, speak to me! Where are you hurt?" She knelt beside him and searched for his wound to try to stop the bleeding. When she found a jagged hole through his chest, she realized there was naught she could do for him.
He was dead.
Heartrending sorrow threatened to overwhelm her but fear for her sister forced her on. Da would want her to find Jenny.
The smoke was getting thicker. Ailis could barely breathe. Coughing, she held her skirt over her nose and mouth to filter out some of the smoke as she drew a ragged breath.
Where was her sister?
Ailis stumbled past her father's body, and groped through the dense smoke until she found her.
"Jenny!"
Her sister lay naked, her head twisted unnaturally to one side.
Dear God, no! Not her, too!
Ailis dropped down beside her sister's still form. Her neck was broken. A glint of something clutched in Jenny's fingers caught Ailis' eye. She reached down and pulled a strange talisman on a thin strip of leather from her sister's hand.
Jenny must have pulled it from her murderer's neck. Ailis gripped it tightly. This would prove who killed her father and sister. She would find its owner and avenge her family!
A jug of ale suddenly burst from the heat of the flames that engulfed it. Fiery sparks and bits of burning wood began to rain down inside the front of the wagon. Tears of desolation made worse by the smoke-filled air coursed down Ailis' face. Coughing and gasping for breath, she beat out sparks that fell on her as she made her way to the back of the burning wagon. As she jumped out her skirt caught on a flaming timber, setting it ablaze.
Oh God, she was on fire!
Tossing the talisman from her, she tore at her clothing, freeing herself of the flames. Naked and dazed, she backed away from the burning wagon then stood there helpless and watched as the blazing inferno engulfed it, robbing her of all she loved. As it burned out of control, her grief and rage overwhelmed her and she began to scream.
#
Sometime later, she came to her senses. The wagon and everything in it was nothing more than a large pile of charred, glowing cinders.
Her family was dead!
Murdered.
What was she to do now? She looked down at her nakedness and saw the strange talisman at her feet. Grabbing up the incriminating amulet, she tied its leather thong around her neck and stumbled into the woods. The blanket she had dropped would cover her while she sought shelter. Da had said their next stop was a town two day's journey from there, but surely there was somewhere closer. She would find shelter and clothes and then she would find the murderer. Aye, no one would stop her from avenging her family.
The glow of the cinders faded as she staggered deeper into the forest. She picked up the old blanket and tore an opening in the center large enough to slip over her head. Pulling the blanket down around her, she stumbled further into the woods. Within minutes, it began to rain. She could barely see in front of her.
Suddenly, her foot slipped on wet rock and she pitched forward down a small hill. The last thing she felt was her head hitting the ground.
#
It seemed as if she had been wandering the forest forever. How many sunsets had she seen glowing through the treetops like the fire that had taken everything from her? Five, six? She could not remember anymore.
'Twas difficult to think clearly.
She grasped the talisman from inside her meager covering. Its rough edge had chafed her skin so she had torn a strip from the blanket she wore and wrapped it, aiding her comfort and concealing it from view should she find a village nearby.
Pushing aside a tree branch, she searched for berries to eat. She could not remember when she had eaten last and weariness threatened to overtake her.
She would have to tell Jenny to hurry up their supper. She was so—
No, Jenny and Da were dead. 'Twas just her now.
Ailis walked until she was too weary to take another step then sank down on the ground to rest. As she sat there, she pushed aside a branch of a bush hoping to find something to eat and saw a worn path in front of her. It crossed through the forest as far as she could see.
She would have to tell Da. Aye. It was wide enough for their—
Ailis shook her head and covered her face with her hands. Her head pounded so, she could not think straight anymore. She needed to rest. Moving to avoid a sharp rock, she lay down, grasped the talisman hanging around her neck and closed her eyes. Aye, she would rest now, and later, she would do what she needed to do.
The sounds of men and horses approaching pulled her from an uneasy sleep, her thoughts still confused.
Listen. The demon approache
s.
Ailis sat up and looked about wildly. Slowly, she crept through the thick undergrowth trying to stay hidden.
So, the devil returns! Does he think to finish the evil he began?
Roots and twigs caught at her bare feet. The reek of rotting leaves and damp soil rose up dank and musty. A flash of pain spiraled through her leg from a thistle's sharp barb. Tears welled up in her eyes and she bit back a cry.
Nay. Do not let him hear you.
The wind sighed through the treetops like the hiss of a sword pulled slowly from its scabbard. Suddenly, rough hands reached out and grabbed her. Their clutch bit cruelly into her arms.
No! Pull away. Run!
The dappled light of the forest spun before her eyes as she whirled around on her assailant. For the space of a heartbeat he stood there, faceless, a hazy shadow. Then he was gone. In his place, a huge tree forced its gnarled branches outward. The limbs entrapped her, biting into her flesh.
No. 'Tis a trick.
He is here.
Find him!
Stumbling further into the trees, she heard the unmistakable sound of horses moving toward her.
Aye. There! He returns.
Ailis was sure of it now. Silently, she crouched down and peered through the dense bracken in front of her.
Two men rode into view dressed in a distinctive tartan. Was it the same one she had seen that hellish night? Ailis rubbed her aching head as she forced herself to think back on that night and visualize the glimpse of tartan she had seen.
Aye! 'Tis the same.
Dear God. The devil has returned and brought his minion with him. But 'tis no matter. Their size and numbers would aid them naught. For with her last breath, she would see that they drew theirs!
Chapter One
"Look out!" Gavin MacPherson shouted as a fist-sized rock flew toward them. It slammed into the side of his cousin's head and knocked him from his horse, leaving him senseless on the ground. The Highland pony he had led, laden with packs, neighed and bolted for freedom.
Gavin pulled his broadsword from its scabbard and stared into the dense trees around him. 'Twas naught there.
The dense foliage of the Scottish Highland forest hid their attacker from view. How could he fight an enemy he could not see? He narrowed his eyes and searched the shadows intently. Nothing stirred. Gavin stood in his stirrups to get a better view as his skittish mount pawed at the ground. Other than the nervous snorts of the two horses, it was as silent as a tomb.
Then it came.
Blood curdling screams filled the air as a dark demon burst from the trees and charged him, flailing its arms wildly.
Gavin's horse reared and thrashed the air with its deadly hooves, as he made a desperate attempt to tighten his hold on the reins and stay in the saddle. But the heavy pack on the saddle horn fell against his left leg and knocked his foot from the stirrup. Off balance, he fell heavily to the ground. The force of the impact wrenched his sword from his hand, slinging it several feet away.
With the hideous wail of a damned soul, the ominous fiend rushed toward him like a crazed warrior driven on by blood lust.
Gavin glanced to his right. His sword lay just beyond his reach. God's teeth, the creature would be upon him before he could reach his blade! He clenched his fingers into fists, ready to fight bare handed. As his attacker loomed over him, Gavin lashed out with a kick then rolled toward his sword. Surprised, he watched as the shrieking wraith toppled to the dirt.
Had he heard a soft moan as it landed beside him? Gavin grasped his sword and rose in one fluid motion. He stood above the crumpled form, wary and watchful.
'Twas strange, but lying there, the demon seemed not nearly as large as it had just moments before. The creature was wrapped in a filthy torn blanket, part of which was draped about its head. He nudged the dark shape with his boot, his sword at the ready. The dark hood fell back.
Shock rippled through Gavin as he stared down at the gaunt, dirt encrusted face of a woman. She lay still as death. Only the slight rise and fall of the filthy rag covering her chest proved she still lived.
Her pitiful condition made it difficult to discern her features. The skin on her heart shaped face was pulled tight and streaked with dirt. Deep purple shadows lined the area below her closed eyes, and a wealth of matted raven hair tangled about her pale face.
Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned and watched his cousin rise shakily to his feet and wipe at the trickle of blood running down the side of his face. Gratified to see his wound was minor, Gavin looked back at the strange disheveled woman at his feet.
Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing cobalt blue eyes. She stared blankly at him for a moment before a look of fear and hatred crossed her face. Trembling, she rose to a crouched position and began to shriek and flail her arms about.
Her piercing screams sent a shiver down Gavin's spine, as if he listened to the cries of a tormented soul. Sheathing his sword, he reached out and caught her thin wrists then pulled her up from the ground.
As she struggled to escape, the distraught woman screamed even louder. Suddenly, she let out a long sigh and sagged limply against him. Her eyes remained open but she seemed unaware of her surroundings, as if in a trance.
Calum reached his side as the woman collapsed and waved his hand before her unresponsive face. "By all that's holy! What do ye think this is about? The wee creature near took off my head, but now acts as if she sees us no at all."
"I do not know. Be wary, Calum. She looks crazed."
"Aye. Hold her and I will bind her hands." Pulling a plaid sash from his tartan, Calum wrapped it around the woman's wrists and tied it securely as she began to stir.
Gavin nodded and led her toward a large oak. As he helped her to sit beneath the tree, he stared at her vacant expression. She had walked silently beside him and now sat unresponsive as if she were not aware of his presence.
Turning to Calum, he said, "'Tis time to rest the horses and feed ourselves. I will set up camp and we can decide what to do with her whilst we eat. You go find the pony."
Calum nodded. "I hope the bloody beast hasna strayed too far. My belly is as empty as old widow MacFarlane's bed."
Gavin chuckled. "Och, cousin, you are no more starving for food than the good widow is for company. You both take your fill often enough."
"Aye, but no with each other." Calum grinned and headed deeper into the trees.
By the time Gavin skinned and skewered the rabbit they had killed earlier and placed the cooking rod across a small fire, Calum had led the pack animal back and tied it to a tree beside their horses.
The blaze crackled with warmth and light. Flames licked the meat, searing it to a golden brown. A pleasant smell of cooking meat and wood smoke filled the air as meat juices dripped into the fire and sizzled among the flames. The fire's flickering light shone on the receding tree trunks as it darted among the growing shadows of the forest.
As Gavin walked over to help Calum with the horses, a sudden movement caught his eye. Glancing back, he saw that the strange woman had made her way to the fire and was leaning precariously over it.
When she reached out to grab the meat, a flame rose up and burned her fingers. She yelped and pulled her bound hands away, but immediately tried again as soon as the blaze lowered.
Vaulting to her side, Gavin pulled her back from the fire. God's bones, the lass must be starved to act so. Or mad. Not only had she risked burning her hands, but she had near fallen in the flames for a wee bite of rabbit. Shaking his head in disbelief, he led her back beneath the oak tree and helped her to sit. "That was very foolish, lass. Stay here. I'll bring you some when 'tis cooked."
When she did not answer, he glanced at her hands and grimaced. "Fie, woman, look what you have done to yourself!" As gently as he was able, Gavin removed the binding from the woman's wrists Even though it must have been painful as he examined her blistered fingers, she sat silently, never once crying out.
He looked into her
haunted deep blue gaze. No emotion. No sign of pain. What could force a lass to act so? And why did she not speak? Without turning his head, he called over his shoulder. "Calum, bring the pack from my horse. The lass' hands need tending. I fear she has burned them."
When his cousin brought the large leather bag, Gavin reached in without taking his eyes from the woman's tortured face. He brought out a small clay pot sealed with a wooden stopper and held it up to Calum. "Open this for me so I can rub some salve on her burns."
As Calum pulled the stopper from the small pot, he snorted in disgust. "Whew! But that smells foul. What are ye puttin' on the lass's fingers?"
"'Tis one of the things Meggie asked me to bring back. Aye, it does smell rank, but she vowed 'twas a wondrous healer, so we shall try it."
Gavin gently spread the salve over her fingers. Looking up from his task, he saw her watching him closely. Still she said naught. What a puzzle she was.
He picked up the plaid that had bound her hands and ripped it in two. Then he carefully wrapped each of her hands in a piece of the tartan and tucked the ends in at her wrists. "Now then, lass, you will soon feel better. Do not take the cloth from your hands and stay away from the fire. I will fetch you something to eat."
He waited for a response. Although the strange woman gave none, she seemed willing to stay where she was with her bandaged hands lying in her lap like large wolfhound paws. Gavin put the clay pot back into his pack and walked over to the fire where Calum had begun to slice the cooked rabbit into small pieces and pile them on a flat wooden trencher. Gavin picked up several small bits of meat, walked back to the woman and sat down beside her.
A flurry of movement knocked a piece of meat from his hand onto the ground. Even with her hands bandaged, the lass tried to grab it. He watched as she bent over and struggled to grasp the scrap of food lying in the dirt. "Stop, lass. Leave it for the forest animals." When she continued to try, he said, "No, be still. I will give you some."
The Talisman (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 2) Page 1