Morag's Tears (Celtic Storm Series Book 5)

by Ria Cantrell

  Morag’s Tears

  by

  Ria Cantrell

  Other Books by Ria Cantrell

  Celtic Fury (January, 2013)

  Celtic Tempest (May, 2013)

  Celtic Spirit (March, 2014)

  Knight Storm (October, 2014)

  Celtic Passage (Coming Soon, 2015)

  Morag’s Tears

  Copyright © 2014 by Ria Cantrell

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your favorite ebook store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  So many people have supported me in this journey. I dedicate this book to my husband Paul, who is my kindred spirit.

  Morag’s Tears

  List of Characters

  Morag MacCollum – a wise old woman and healer gifted with The Sight and with the ability for Time Manipulation, former chatelaine and nanny of Clan MacCollum

  Moira MacCollum – Morag’s mother

  Ian MacCollum – Morag’s husband

  Gavin Campbell – Laird of Clan Campbell, friend of Ian and Morag, father of Robbie Campbell, grandfather of Derek and Roderick Campbell, Ancient Guardian

  MacKenzie Clan – Enemies of Clan MacCollum

  Donal MacCollum – Former Laird of Clan MacCollum, father of Caleb MacCollum

  Caleb MacCollum – Laird of Clan MacCollum, son of Donal, father of Jamie, Shawn, Liam, Ruiri and Bronwyn MacCollum

  Mairgred MacCollum – First wife of Caleb MacCollum

  Tavish MacCollum – Son of Ian and Morag MacCollum

  Caitlyn McLeod – Former betrothed of Ruiri MacCollum, Healing Guardian

  Robbie Campbell – son of Laird Gavin Campbell, father of Roderick, Derek and Gabrielle Campbell, known as a drunkard

  Derek Campbell – grandson of Laird Gavin Campbell

  Roderick Campbell – grandson of Laird Gavin Campbell

  Stephen MacDougal – ally to the Clan MacCollum

  Gabrielle Campbell MacCollum (Brielle) – Wife of Rory MacCollum, sister of Roderick and Derek Campbell

  Arianne Campbell – Second wife of Robbie Campbell, stepmother of Roderick and Derek Campbell, mother of Gabrielle MacCollum

  Bronwyn MacCollum Brandham – Daughter of Caleb and Mairgred MacCollum, wife of Sir Andrew (Drew) Brandham, mother of Ian and Jenna Brandham, known as the Highland Rose

  Sir Andrew Brandham – Captain of the Elite Guard of Sir Erik Ragnorsen, husband of Bronwyn MacCollum, father of Ian and Jenna Brandham

  Ruiri (Rory) MacCollum – Son of Caleb MacCollum, brother of Bronwyn, husband of Brielle Campbell MacCollum, father of Brigid Caitlyn and Conner MacCollum, known as the Highland Wolf

  Jamie MacCollum – Brother of Ruiri, Liam, Shawn and Bronwyn MacCollum, husband of Sinead MacDougal

  Sinead MacDougal (MacCollum) – Wife of Jamie MacCollum

  Sir Erik Ragnorsen – and English Knight of the Realm, husband of Rhianna du Montefort

  Rhianna du Montefort Ragnorsen – Wife of Sir Erik Ragnorsen, healer

  Andarra MacCollum – cousin of Morag, chatelaine of du Montefort Keep

  Mara MacCollum – second wife of Caleb MacCollum

  Devin MacDougal – Son of Stephen MacDougal, husband of Brigid Caitlyn MacCollum

  Conner MacCollum – Son of Ruiri and Brielle, married to the daughter of Stephen MacDougal

  Dorabren – a flirtatious girl with her eyes set for Ian MacCollum

  Kiera Callum – wife of Derek Campbell

  Tom Callum – perhaps a cousin of Kiera Callum

  Morag’s Tears

  *Prologue*

  What can be said about a life lived for as many years as I have lived it? As I sit and ponder the paths and choices I have made, I am ever plagued with the memories that call to me from the past. They are as much a part of me as the moments left to me that swiftly are being stolen away. Now, in my very ancient existence, I think upon those paths and wonder would it were possible, might I have chosen differently?

  It seems for as far back as I can recall, the course was set for me before I could yet choose. Why, I remember when I was but a young girl of not more than five summers gone….

  ~~~~~

  “Morag”, the woman called to her daughter who was playing in the field. “Hurry, child, while the daylight still graces us. I want to show ye’ something.”

  “What is it, Mama?”

  “Hurry. We must make haste.”

  Carrying a precious bundle of wild flowers, the young girl skipped alongside of her beautiful mother. She had picked them for her mother while the woman gathered the herbs and plants used in the many medicines that were needed to help the people of the Clan. Moira MacCollum knew that while she was known as the clan healer, the other practices that tied her to the Old Ways were now frowned upon by many who followed the New Religion. It saddened her to think that the ways of the past were going to be lost eventually if they could not be passed down to those who would carry on the ties to Ancient Rites. Gazing upon her young daughter, Moira felt the pull of the Ancient Guardians around them, even as the Beltane Fires were being lit. She saw the gifts of the Ancients in her sweet young daughter, so she took every opportunity to school her in the arts that too few remembered any longer. While she had gathered the vegetation and herbs for her medicinal recipes carefully, Moira watched her precious daughter; noting that the seemingly haphazard nosegay picked by a child were instinctively those plants that were best used in combinations to ward off any number of agues and ailments. Even in her playing, Moira could see that Morag was tied to the Old practices, which now had to be hidden in secret while the world embraced that which was falling to the new.

  It was nearly time for the sun to begin its descent and Moira wanted her daughter to experience the magic of Beltane’s Sabbat. The scent of wood smoke already drifted into her nostrils with the tang of the fires being kept by those not fearful of their Ancient Ties. Soon they would dot the fields in the wake of the festivities to come. Taking the hand of her daughter, Moira pulled her along.

  “Mama, where are we going? Papa will be waiting fer’ his supper by now?”

  “Hush, Child. Yer’ father will be joining us soon enough. Make haste now, else we will miss the magic.”

  “Ye’ mean the magic in the Highlands ye’ told me about?”

  “Aye. There is always magic here in these Highlands. It is old and steeped from long ago. Ye’ are part of that magic. It lives inside ye’. Ne’er forget it, my daughter. There are those who would forget, but ye’ canna’. It courses through ye’ like yer’ blood itself.”

  Morag wrinkled her nose at the talk of blood.

  “I dunna’ like blood, Mama’.”

  “If ye’ are to be a healer, ye’ will learn the precious gift that blood is. Dunna’ mind that now. Tonight is a special night and ye’ are now old enough to be part of it.”

  “Will the other children of the clan join us, Mama?”

  “Some, Morag. Not all, but enough, I suppose. Careful now as we climb up the rise. It is steep and I dunna’ wish ye’ to tumble down.”

  Scrambling up a rocky ridge, Moira aided her child in the trek up the gravelly crag. Already the sun was starting to sink down into the horizon. It cast an orange glow, as wisps of clouds were tinged with
the pinks and crimsons of the gloaming. The fiery ball arced its way toward dusk. Beltane was upon them.

  “We will go to the valley, but first, I wanted ye’ to see the beginnings of the magic and the celebration that we will have. Look, my girl. Feel the wonder of it. Embrace it, for it is yer’ heritage and yer’ birthright.”

  The woman put down her basket and laid the bouquet of wildflowers on top of it. Lifting her child up to the ledge carefully, she braced her around her narrow waist and said, “There, down below. What do ye’ see?”

  “Oh, Mama, t’is beautiful. There are fires--so many fires, but it looks more like the bright stars that are in the sky all around us.”

  Stretching her arms over her head, Morag tipped her head back and looked up at the now darkening sky. The colors still striped the clouds as the sun bid goodnight to the world and its last rays painted its path in its wake. Giggling with glee, Morag said, “I feel like I am flying in a rainbow.”

  Smiling to herself, Moira answered, “Aye, lassie, aye. That is the wonder of the Guardians. They paint the sky to welcome ye’ and to remind ye’ that ye’ are part of them. Careful, now. It will soon get verra’ dark and we must take care as we get to the valley. Hold my hand and mind yer’ steps.”

  Moira grabbed her daughter and lifted her back to the path they would take to join the revelers in the valley below them.

  Chapter One – My Mother, Moira

  I remember those early days when my mother taught me in gentle ways the things of the Ancients. She said I was a natural and the Old Ways called to me from the past. It seems that there was ne’er a time when I was nay part of that which is mostly lost now. The New Religion took hold of the world and those of us left to practice the Old Ways are growing fewer and fewer. I suppose by the time I am called by the Guardians to no longer walk these fields, that it will be gone and lost forever. I did my best to teach those Ways to those who were deemed to be under my care, though none of those were my own offspring. This reality makes an old woman such as myself sad; sadder than I can ere express. There are some hurts that take a lifetime to put to rest. Alas, my mind wanders. Perhaps in the telling of my tale, I will also tell about those things that are carried in the secret places that are hard to share; that which burdens a woman’s heart--but not now. For now I will begin my tale with thoughts of my mother, who I loved deeply. She was my shining sun and I remember that I wanted to be just like her.

  That night so long ago was only the first of many Beltane Celebrations. The magic filled the air quite fully as the smoke of the wood piled bonfires tickled my senses. On that night so very far behind me now, I learned my destiny was set for me. The magic was infused into my very soul and I knew that I too would follow in the footsteps of my mother; as Healer and Seer of the Clan. Soon thereafter, my mother taught me the many potions and formulas of special herbs to heal and aid in any amounts of suffering. It seemed the more she taught me, the more I wanted to learn. Some of the happiest days I can recall were spent alongside of my beautiful mother working on the recipes for one thing or another to assist us in our work with those who were sick or injured.

  She would take me to visit those who sought her aid and I watched as her gentle hands would apply a poultice or a salve to a body wracked with pain. I was amazed that she would work tirelessly through the night with some sick child, never worrying for her own well-being; never worried that the illness she helped to cure would invade her body and make her sick as well. And ye’ know, I dunna’ remember her ever falling ill in those days. Nay, something much more sinister took my beloved mother from me, truth be told. But while she lived, she saw fit to teach me all that she could as if she knew her days on this green earth were numbered and few.

  My mother had so many gifts to give and the people loved her for it. My father loved her, too, and their example of love for each other helped me understand that love is not something to discount. Nay, love was greater than many things we can comprehend. Their love seemed to know no bounds and for that reason, some would say that I came to meddle in the affairs of love too often. Ah, well, if I meddled, it was for the best of intentions and I dunna’ regret a single time I needed to aid a young couple to find their heart’s completion. My mother and father never were embarrassed to show affection to one another, or for that matter, to me. They taught me that sometimes they would disagree, but in disagreeing they would work through their troubles and that love would stand firm, despite it. I think that I actually learned that perhaps love stood firm in spite of adversity.

  Not everyone had the gifts my mother had and so, sometimes the things she was able to do were looked upon with fear. People, who dunna’ know the Ways, dunna’ trust in the things they can nay explain. I ne’er feared these gifts and my mother, Moira MacCollum, did her best to school me in the things that brought confusion and fear to those who chose not to see. Although I am old, there are still many things I dunna’ understand; things that still could frighten me to death, but I dunna’ fear them any longer. Most of that comfort comes from the way my mother schooled me and disciplined me in the lessons of the Great Path the Ancients had set before me.

  Besides having an affinity with the herbs, blooms and plants used for medicines and healing, my mother had what some called The Sight. She could see things before they happened; she would receive messages in dreams. I guess it was both a blessing and a curse and it was one she passed on to me.

  I remember the first time I had a dream of something that was yet to come. It was no’ like normal dreams when asleep; nay. I remember waking after it and feeling like I was trembling, though my body was neither cold nor moving. From the outside, it seemed I was just calmly awake, but inside was another story. It was like a vibration that coursed through me and I fled to my mother’s room in fear. I told her I saw things in my dream that I could nay understand.

  I saw great giant birds of silver that roared through the sky. I saw buildings that nearly reached the heavens and I saw the land, not at it is now or then, but ravaged and broken. My mother smiled and explained I was dreaming of a time much further in the future and since I was, my mother also knew that I would have a gift that even she did not possess, for she said that if I were to dream of those times so many years from now, I was being prepared to walk in them. She seemed so proud to tell me that I would learn to manipulate time for I was needed to aid people not of my time, but mayhap time much further from now.

  When I say I would learn to manipulate time, I never really did. Well, what I mean is that I never learned how to do it exactly; not so that it was something I could do on a whim. It just seems to happen when I have need of it. Ye’ may think this is magic of the darkest force, but I only know I conjured no magic to do it. When I walked through time, sometimes there were Guardians to guide me and sometimes there were not. I always seemed to be able to come back to my own time and so after the first few stretches that it happened, I no longer grew afraid that I would be forever stuck in a time that was not my own. But ye’ see, walking through eras gone by and ones still to come are not for the weak of spirit. There is a steep expense to pay for this gift and my gift did not come without such an expensive price. It ravages the body, much like time ravages the earth and ye’ learn things that sometimes ye’ wished ye’ never had to know. That night, I realized my carefree youth was about to be left in the past as my mother tried to explain the weight of the responsibility of one gifted to manipulate time.

  Time walking or manipulation, as my mother called it, was to be done for the greater good. My mother always told me that any of the gifts of the Ancients were not to be used for personal gain, nor were they to cause harm. She said I must heed her carefully on this because should I breach these rules set by the Ancient Guardians, the penalties were not easily lived with. She was right of course, and she also knew that I would most likely have to learn about the cost of such actions the hard way. I remember the sadness in her eyes as she saw for me a life of hardship because of this gift and because of
my own headstrong ways. Ye’ see, I was young, and in youth, ye’ test the limits of what is written. I was no different than the youth of today or the youth even of the future. Rules are rules and rules are made to be broken--but not without consequences. Ah, again, I think back on the choices I made and I wonder if I would have done them differently had I been given the chance. Ye’ may ask if one can walk through time, why cannot one go back and do them differently. That is the biggest break in the rules set by the Guardians and knowing what I know, even I would hope to nay do that. Besides, the things I have done have all been set in place to lead me to where I am at this very moment.

  Chapter Two - Ian

  As I said, I was nay always an old woman. I was once young and as beautiful as I remember my mother to be. My hair, which is now grey, was long and thick and colored in the softest brown. My skin, now wrinkled and wizened, was flawless and smooth. Although, I now walk stooped and with the aid of a staff, my limbs were once strong and my back straight. I had a comely figger, too, aye, that I did and I enjoyed the flirting attention of braw and handsome laddies because of it. I only had eyes for one, though; and that was for my intended, Ian MacCollum. Ye’ may ask, why my mother’s surname and Ian’s were the same, well, we are many in the clan MacCollum. Many of us share the name and I wear it still with pride to this day. Within the vast clan MacCollum, Ian was my truest love.

  In the spring of my 19th year, we married; Ian and I. Aye, we did. My beloved mother had already been laid in the earth five years past, but she had known that Ian would one day be my mate. She had known it from when he and I were both such small children and so I gained comfort in that knowledge. My mother, Moira MacCollum, would have blessed our union, even though she knew she would ne’er see the day her only daughter would wed. Ach, Ian was a bonnie lad. Why, even now, my heart still whirs in my chest when I think upon him. Ian, my handsome Ian, did nay shun me because of my gifts and I think actually he was quite proud of me because of those things that made me unlike many other folks. He adored that I was different from some of the other lassies of the Clan.