Morag's Tears (Celtic Storm Series Book 5)

by Ria Cantrell

  “Och, ye’ startled me Ian. But I am so glad ye’ are home safe and sound. Come sit and warm yerself’ by the fire.”

  Ian shook his head and said, “Nay, lass. I canna’. I came home only long enough to gather supplies and weapons for we ride this verra’ night to the MacKenzie to put an end to their destruction.”

  Morag’s face blanched. She knew that when Ian was of a mind, there would be naught she could do to stop him. Still, she had to try. Morag really did not like the feeling of this night; not at all. It sent fear slicing through her heart and though she did not say as much to Ian, she felt it as true as she had felt the cold seeping into her bones.

  “Ian, please. I dunna’ like this night. Besides, there is a storm brewin’. T’would do no good to ride out in it.”

  Ian grabbed his beautiful wife into his arms and he kissed her soundly. He said, “Shhh, Morag, ye’ must nay fret so. I will be back afore morning light to warm yer’ bed. Worry not, my pretty lass.”

  Kissing her again, Ian was out of her arms and set to the task of gathering his dirks and broadsword. Once he had strapped the sword across his back, he leapt upon his horse. Morag ran out to him and he leaned down low over the horse’s neck to give her a final kiss before riding out to meet the other men who were going to fight the MacKenzie raiders that night. As the mist swallowed the riders, Morag lost sight of her beloved husband and the ominous dread crawled into her flesh again. ~

  ~~~~~

  That was the last time I would see my Ian alive. That was the night my Ian lost his life. The MacKenzies had gotten their revenge, after all. They took my Ian’s life for payment of the man that would have raped a young innocent girl some four years prior.

  Gavin felt Ian’s demise had been his fault. He should have protected Ian as he always had when we were but children. Gavin had been defending himself when one of the MacKenzies cut Ian down, so Gavin blamed himself for not having Ian’s back. In truth, I felt the weight of my husband’s death press heavily on my own guilt. It was as much my fault as it was the bastard’s who had ended Ian’s life. T’is a heavy burden I carry, still to this day. But because of Gavin’s self-imposed guilt, it was that which forced his hand to go against the Laird.

  After that fateful fray, the laird wanted no more bloodshed that night. He had made a proclamation that no warrior from the clan should seek vengeance for the loss of Ian. He needed to think about how to best handle this growing feud between the MacKenzies and MacCollum and he wanted time to cool all the hot heads on both sides of the battle lines. More lives would, no doubt, be lost if they proceeded with their course and the laird sorely did nay want that.

  Laird Donal MacCollum vowed if Gavin defied his orders, he would break from the Campbells and that was the truth. Sometimes, men in their silly pride make decisions that will change the course of many lives. Only, despite what the laird had forbidden, Gavin could not let his best friend lie in the cold ground while that same friend’s son grew inside of me. He did nay think that Donal would hold to his word and all would be forgiven, once the life of Ian MacCollum had been avenged. In fact, I dunna’ know if Gavin gave much thought to the consequences of his actions at all.

  T’is with a heavy heart and a deep sigh that comes upon me when I think of this. There is never any point to avenging, for more men die, more mothers’ sons are lost and husbands never get to see their bairns grow. Gavin avenged our Ian, that night, but he lost three more MacCollum men in the process. These men were first cousins to the Laird himself. I tell ye’, Donal MacCollum was furious. In his own grief at the loss of his kin, he stripped Campbell of MacCollum and split the clans then and there.

  There was never even so much as the minutest consideration given to Gavin or to the rest of the Campbell line of the clan. Donal said he was nay going to lose more MacCollums for the foolishness of Campbell rash pride ever again. Oh, how I wish he had never spoken those words for MacCollum pride was even rasher than Campbell, I think, in the aftermath of such a split.

  The worst was yet to come now, as Campbell became MacCollum’s fiercest enemy. More MacCollum and Campbell were lost over that feud in years to follow than had ere been lost on those nights when Campbell fought against MacKenzie. There was more heartache because of that incident in the glade so many years before. But ye’ see, everything happens as it was meant to, I suppose. For that one event set the course for all that was still to be and not I nor anyone else could see the outcome, neither could we even attempt to prevent it.

  Chapter Four – The Great Rift between Campbell and MacCollum

  Ye’ know, the days after the great rift between Campbell and MacCollum were so hard on both clans. No one gained anything from that split. It was even harder still, on me. I no longer had my beloved husband by my side nor did I have the comfort of my dearest friend, Gavin Campbell, to charm the days or warm the nights with tales and laughter. I was and always will be a MacCollum and though I still loved Gavin and cherished his friendship, I would forever be marked as his enemy. But, no matter what had transpired between MacCollum and Campbell, no amount of feuding would change what had passed between us. I always thought of myself as Gavin’s defender and advocate.

  I would do something, much later in my life to make amends for the price he paid to avenge my Ian, for though Ian lost his life, Gavin’s burden was a far heavier one to bear. It was something that came maybe too late, but in the end I knew he was grateful for my intervention. It had come years after his death and though it would seem that one cannot make amends after one’s death, I had learned that all is not always as it seems.

  In the days and years that followed the chasm between the clans, I was housed and cared for by Donal MacCollum. Nay, not as his mistress or any other matter of compromising ill repute, let me make that certain straight away. My knowledge of herbs and healing set me as valuable to the clan, even though I felt responsible for the rift that was not to be mended.

  After Ian’s untimely death, there is little hope for a widow like me. Donal, in his mercy, took pity on me and housed me as chatelaine and nursemaid to his own brood of babes. He knew that my choices weighed heavily on me and he knew that, though I hid my Gifts, they were not to be discounted. I grew to love his children like my own. I cared for them, nursed them when they were sick and I grew to love each of them as I watched them grow into strong men and women.

  I secretly kept track of what happened at Campbell Keep. Gavin had now become the Chief and though it was not MacCollum, the clan seemed to thrive for a time. But time has a way of leveling all men and events eventually happened that would force Fate’s hand.

  Campbell would not enjoy the prosperity that MacCollum would. Though Gavin took great pride in the fortified keep on the Campbell land, his sons strayed from the path of good and what was right. They did not grow to be the man that Gavin was and I think that weighed heavily on him. Though we could not speak to one another, for even if I set foot on Gavin’s holdings, I knew I would be killed. I yearned to rekindle our friendship, for I missed him greatly. It did not do my heart good to know that he struggled to maintain his clan as best he could. He had one joy in his life and that was his precious little Gabrielle, the granddaughter of his first-born son. I did not know it then, but that little girl was going to play a major part in my own journey, but not for many years later.

  Time passed and waited for none of us, so as Donal aged and grew frail, he named his son, Caleb as laird and chief even before his own timely passing. He knew that Caleb would be a strong leader and so, when Caleb reached his eighteenth year, he was set in place to lead the great MacCollum Clan. At the time, I dinna’ know if Caleb would want an old woman such as I was rapidly becoming, to stay within the castle walls. But he, like his father, was kind and compassionate. The mercy of these great men will always fill my heart with respect and admiration. I had been like a mum to Caleb, I suppose and so, like his father, he named me chatelaine.

  Caleb tried to mend the rift that was between MacCollum a
nd Campbell some years later and he even agreed to meet within the Campbell walls under a truce to attend a war council. In truth, he had no malice toward Gavin for this war was not with him. The two men, the younger Caleb and the older Gavin, fostered a mutual reverence as lairds and leaders of their respective clans. Caleb MacCollum, at the time, sought no outright aggression toward Campbell and maybe, I think, he even thought to unify the two great clans once and for all. Sadly, it was not to be.

  It was not until much later that the blood feud was magnified at the hands of Gavin’s own grandsons. I was grateful that Gavin had not lived to see that day, because up until that point, it seemed that the rift was slowly mending and I think he even believed that Campbell and MacCollum would one day be again joined as the greatest clan of all of Scotland.

  Alas, sadly, the evil in some men’s hearts could not be tamed. Hatred ran deep and those who wished to forget were reminded by those who could not and would not forget that there would never be peace between Campbell and MacCollum. Aye, it was a hard burden for Gavin to bear. It was an even harder one for me.

  Chapter Five – Gifts of the Guardians

  My story would nay be complete if I did not explain the path of the Old Ways, for now it is mostly lost and few know of the beauty it holds for people like me. When I was a girl, my mother taught me about the wonders of our land and its people. But before our people were formed, there were those who had gone before. The Ancients, she called them; the ones who forged our Way long before we trod upon the land.

  Some of those deemed worthy were elevated to beings of great power. These beings had much required of them, but what they could not achieve in life, they often could achieve in the Higher Plain. I knew them to be called Guardians. Perhaps they are what we know as angels, I still am not certain, but what I knew of them, I knew that this calling was cast to only those whose fortitude preceded them. There were signs of them everywhere, from the beautifully painted sunsets, to the rainbows that formed after a cleansing rain. For a girl like me, I felt their presence touch me and I spoke to them often, offering them supplications and prayers like I did to the One God. I suppose, if ye’ would know them as angels, in truth, they are really so much more. They do the High King of Heaven’s bidding and they are the bringer of miraculous things to us mere mortals; things that we can nay even understand.

  I know not how or why a man or a woman is deemed worthy to be a Guardian for it is by the One God’s hand that it is so. I only know that I have encountered a brief few of those who I have known in life as their elevated selves in the afterlife.

  Gavin Campbell was such a man.

  When I received word of Gavin’s passing, I knew that I was the only one left of that band of children that played in the Highland hills so many years now gone. My heart felt nearly as empty as it did when I lost my beloved Ian. I almost felt like I could nay carry the burden of one of the Wise One’s left in a world that no longer looked to the teachings of my Ways. There had been so much I had wished I could have said to Gavin, for though he was not my intended, I loved him dearly.

  My dedication to the Old Ways were not in vain for I soon learned, that when I manipulated time to move into the years yet to come, I would see my dear friend again. Gavin was deemed worthy to be a Guardian; a Keeper of Secrets and a force more powerful in death than he had been in the flesh.

  Guardians have different tasks and can assume the form of a living man or of something not of this world. I saw my friend again, in a time that I myself felt so lost. It was different than being with him in our childish innocence, for I was verra’ old and he, well was as he appeared at the time of his passing. There was a lot of water that had churned through our lives, and possibly even more blood spilled than could ever be washed clean. Even now, thinkin’ of moving forward to some times ahead, I am filled with fear, but that one time, when Gavin met me there, much of my apprehension went by and by. Ah, I treasured his aid as I recall how he was there to meet me….

  ~~~~~

  ~ When Morag had been called again to that time in the so very distant future, trepidation and unease filled her heart. How would she survive in a world that she had no knowledge of outside of glimpses from the gift of Sight?

  As she put her arms out beside her to steady her more than to bring her forward in time, Morag closed her eyes and waited to feel that strange but wonderful feeling of the rapid movement that left the world she knew behind. She was old, mayhap too old to make such an arduous journey, but while she had meditated in her daily prayers, she heard the call to help the soul of the one she had plead mercy for so long ago, it seemed. He had been punished quite a lengthy time and finally he was going to have his chance at redemption.

  Not only that, there was another soul, linked to the man’s. She was in need of help as well. Was Morag sent more to aid her than the one she had set out to in the first place? Breathing deeply, Morag mentally prepared to land and she prayed it would be someplace safe. Upon opening her eyes, Morag’s heart began to pound wildly in her chest. “Saints and Ancients preserve me,” she thought. “What have I done?”

  A loud roar split the sky and a giant silver bird streaked across it. She remembered seeing such a beast before, long ago in a childish dream and it had frightened her then as it had frightened her now. It must have been some sort of dragon or monster, for its voice fairly shook the ground on which her feet were planted. Fear rooted her old bones to the spot and it was all she could do to not wet herself. This was a dangerous place she had come to. She should not have answered the Ancients’ call this time.

  Just as she had no way to understand the movement through time and space, she could not deny the call when it came. A loud honking noise blared and some sort of metal monster was racing toward her. If ever her feet needed to move, now was the time and she jumped back onto a raised pavement, only seconds before the monster sped past her. With heart thumping wildly, her hand gripped over her chest. Surely this time she would die of fright from the near miss of that horrible beast.

  Still startled and afraid, Morag felt the hand of a man press into her shoulder and a soft but familiar voice asked, “Lass, are ye’ alright? Ye’ gave me such a star, Morag. I thought t’was the end fer’ ye’.”

  Morag turned and looked into the face of the man who had spoken to her. He knew her by name, which surprised her for a moment. Though she had not seen him in years, she would know that smile anywhere. Gavin--it was her old friend Gavin, but how? He had been dead longer than she could remember. Yet here he stood, touching her and smiling at her. Mayhap, whatever had almost hit her had actually had run her down. Mayhap she was now dead, too, for how else would she be seeing the man who had gone before her long ago?

  As confusion played upon her face and her breathing started to return to normal, Gavin spoke again. He seemed to read her mind and he said, “Aye, I died a long time ago…and nay ye’ are not dead, Morag. I…unbelievable, even to myself sometimes, am a Guardian, remember?”

  She did remember now. She had seen him that day when she made her supplication on behalf of his grandson Derek, the one she was sent now to aid. Nodding, she murmured, “Aye, I remember. Oh, Gavin, ye’ are nay like a ghost, fer’ I can feel yer’ hand and t’is strong and warm, just as it was in life.”

  “I am nay a wee ghostie, Morag. I, for intents and purposes, am a breathing man while I am sent to be in this time. I am here fer’ ye’ and for Derek. T’is time we finish what we began so verra’ long ago.”

  Morag nodded and Gavin continued. “I am here because I have walked in this time. It is quite different than anything ye’ can imagine. I have been sent to aid ye’ as much as fer’ Derek. I can show ye’ what ye’ need to know so that ye’ can survive in this time. Else, ye’ will be dead within days should ye’ step off into the road, as ye’ just did.”

  At his words, Morag felt a sense of calm cleanse over her. With Gavin at her side, she would be alright. She knew that now. Ah, what a sight for her weary eyes to behold. Her dea
rest friend, returned to her in the flesh again. Aye, this era was dangerous and frightening, but with Gavin there to guide her, Morag knew that there was nothing to really fear.~

  ~~~~~

  Still, to see Gavin again eased my troubled soul. He understood my reasons for breaking the rules of the Ways all those years ago, but he could not release me from the prison of punishment that was forced upon me as a consequence, for even Guardians do not have the Power to change the punishments sought for misusing the Gifts. What, ye’ may ask, did I do to break the covenant of one who practiced my craft? Well, that was a tale that I have wanted to avoid speaking about, to be certain. It is an offense that not only broke my heart, but deemed me unworthy to ever atone for it.

  I tell ye’ again, that I would nay change what I have chosen to do for as I sit here today, content in my ending years, all that I have done and all that has come to pass has lead me to this point in the final journey of my life. Life is not without mercy. There is redemption. I can vow that surely to testify as hope left for the weary.

  Chapter Six – Tavish

  I found myself a young widow with a bairn too sick to thrive. I had promised my mother that I would honor her teachings before she was hung for her beliefs. For ye’ see, she knew once she was imprisoned by those forcing us to leave the Old Ways behind, that her days on earth would be numbered. I was just a girl, but she imparted as much of her wisdom and her teaching to me as she could before she was tried, convicted and hanged as a witch.

  Those seeking to erase any of the Old Teachings became judge and jury in a sham of justice and delivered the sentence of hanging by the neck until dead for my beloved mother. Those who had tried her, offered her life if she would name others who practiced the Ways. They wanted her to name me as an acolyte of the Craft, but she would not. When I last spoke with her, she told me nothing these men of the New Religion could ever do to her would cause her to give me up to their horrific and sadistic ways. She would ne’er see me tortured as she would be. She kept her vow.