Highlander’s Bewitched Soul

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Highlander’s Bewitched Soul Page 3

by Olivia Kerr


  “What do you mean?” Cameron asked.

  “You said to yourself that the men were losing hope,” Lewis said. “That morale was slipping. If this pair gives them hope and makes them reach inside themselves to find courage and strength, then I see no harm in it. And if we truly do get assistance from the gods because of their prescience, then we are doubly blessed.”

  “The latter will not happen,” Cameron said, firmly, and then sighed. “But the former may. I understand what you are saying, Lewis.”

  “Ultimately, it is your call,” Lewis replied. “You are your father’s son, and I will submit to your authority. But I think you should consider this.”

  Cameron looked away for a long moment and then gave a curt nod.

  “There is no harm in it,” he said at last. He wasn’t sure whether that was entirely true, but it was late, and he was tired. If his father wanted to believe that this would help, and the men found their courage because of such a tall tale, he was willing to at least try. He would just make sure to say an extra set of prayers for those whose souls might be turned to the old gods rather than to him because of this trick.

  3

  Both men slipped back inside the tent. David and Isla seemed deep in discussion, and she took a step back into the corner when they re-entered.

  “Would you like a chair?” Lewis asked her. She glanced at David, who shook his head.

  “Isla is strong,” he said. “She may not look like it, but that is because of the frailty of her human side.”

  “Her human side?” Cameron said. This story seemed to become more unbelievable by the minute. However, he had already agreed to try this idea, and so he was not about to go back on his word now. He had always prided himself on being a man of his word, and he would not break it just because he was annoyed with a wild story.

  “Yes,” David said. “Isla is a demigoddess, sent by the gods to protect your army and help lead them into battle.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this before we stepped out?” Cameron asked. “Because I believe that version of the story is slightly different than the original one you told us.”

  “I did not mention it because you were not ready to believe it,” David said. “I saw the look on your face.”

  “And you believe something has changed?”

  “I believe that your eyes have been opened,” he said. “And your heart is curious, if not open. Your father spoke to me of you, Cameron McKenzie.”

  “He did?” Cameron asked. “I suppose that is a good thing, since I command this battalion. What exactly did my father say?”

  “He said that you have deep faith in the new religion,” David said. “Perhaps because the old one had failed you.”

  “I do not know where he got that idea,” Cameron replied, holding his ground. He felt Isla’s eyes on him and resisted the urge to look over at her. It was as if her gaze could see right into his soul. He found it unnerving.

  “When your mother died-” David said and Cameron felt his heart drop.

  “My father fell into a dark state after my mother died. I do not believe he is in the right to speak about my feelings on the matter. Regardless, my beliefs do not matter.”

  “They don’t?” David asked, with a smirk. “I could see how they would create a clash. After all, your beliefs are just as ridiculous as ours, from a certain perspective.”

  “How so?” Cameron asked.

  “Your god was killed on a cross and resurrected after three days,” David said. “Something that is impossible to mere mortals. Our gods come down from the heavens and make love to beautiful women, and leave their children behind with the intention to elevate them above the rest, if they serve their purpose. Is that not what your god did with Mary, mother of Jesus?”

  Cameron took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “Although the stories are similar, they are not quite the same,” he said.

  “How are they not the same?” David asked. “She was given a child by a heavenly father, and that child went on to serve a great purpose. In your book, there is only one child and one purpose. In my book, there are many children and many purposes.”

  “Like Isla?” Cameron asked and David nodded.

  “You can ask her if you like,” he said and turned to Isla. “Who is your mother?”

  Isla took a deep breath, and her eyes flickered around several times before she spoke.

  “She was a poor woman,” she said. “She had me...out of wedlock because she told me that a god visited her one night. She still married, but she was never able to have any other children. The man who raised me is not my father.”

  “You grew up with her,” Cameron said and turned to Lewis. “Does that hold true?”

  “It does,” Lewis said. “I knew of her mother and her father, who married her mother when she was two, I believe.”

  “One and a half,” Isla said, with a smile. A familiar look passed between her and Lewis, and Cameron at least felt comforted by the fact that they knew each other. He trusted Lewis completely, and if he said that part of the story was true, then he would not doubt him in that regard.

  “Alright,” Cameron said. “Let’s pretend for a moment that it is true.”

  “Let’s say it is true,” David said, and Cameron waved his hand.

  “Semantics,” he said. “What I want to know is how exactly your presence will help us win the next battle. Is it simply the belief that your presence alone will bring us throughout?”

  “No,” David said. “Not quite. Isla will ride at the head of your army, and the Brits will know who she is. It is their prophecy more than the Scots. For the Scots, it means victory, but for the Britons, it means death.”

  “I see,” Cameron said and turned to Isla. “And you want to ride into battle, without armor, at the head—the most dangerous spot—willingly?”

  “I will do whatever my duty is,” Isla said, quietly. “And if that is what I am supposed to do, then I will mount the horse with no hesitation.”

  “You’ll die,” Cameron said.

  “Not necessarily,” Lewis said. “If this is true, then they will know not to shoot at her with their arrows. In the pagan religion, the curse will fall upon those who kill the child and go to God.”

  “Isn’t the whole point that you are a god?” Cameron asked her in confusion. “So you can’t be killed?”

  “She is a demigoddess,” David responded. “So she has a human side, and that side will be killed.”

  “And what happens?” Cameron asked, in confusion. “She gets to be a full god?”

  “Cameron,” Lewis said, to stop his questions. “Do you see how this might work as an intimidation tactic?”

  “Well, yes,” Cameron said. “But not at the cost of her life.”

  “Why am I not allowed to fight for my country?” Isla said, and all the men turned to her. “I am a Scot, born and bred, just like the rest of you. You men get to go into battle to save your birthright, and women do not. I understand that women are not as strong, or as brave, but they should still have a place in saving their country.”

  “But if you are a demigoddess, do you not have a whole other kingdom you should be worried about?” Cameron asked. He did not mean to insult her, but her face fell.

  “I thought you agreed to try this?” Lewis asked him, in a hushed tone.

  “I am not opposed to trying this,” Cameron said. “I am simply trying to wrap my head around how this is supposed to happen. I am not one to promote the slaughter of innocents. I want to understand that you will be safe. Both of you.” His eyes flickered to David. “Neither of you are soldiers.”

  David laughed out loud at that. “You think that I have not seen war?” he asked.

  “Regardless of whether you have or not,” Cameron said, “you are not currently a soldier in this army.”

  “That is true, but you will not need your soldiers to fight for you by the time we finish.”

  “You think they will not attack at all?” Cameron asked.


  “Most of them will be too frightened,” David said. “And the rest will be caught up in the mess of their frozen comrades. The Britons are more obedient to the old gods than the Scots. I believe that by the time you reach the bottom of the hill, you will not find the need to fight much at all.”

  “We should still prepare for a battle,” Cameron said. “I cannot think of a worse thing than going into battle unprepared.”

  “I am not suggesting you go in unprepared,” David said. “I understand you want your army to feel as strong as possible, and I would never stop you from that. You should understand that you have the gods with you, and your morals should be sky-high when you ride in because you cannot lose.”

  “Well, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Cameron asked. “I am willing to try this, as I mentioned, because my father has sent you. But you should know I wear the cross on my neck and I doubt the facts that you present to me.”

  “That is fine,” David replied and looked to Isla. “We do not need to convert believers with words. You will see the truth before the end.”

  “Thank you for that prophecy.” Cameron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Now, it is quite late, and dawn will come soon. Do either of you sleep, or are you above that?”

  “We sleep,” David assured Cameron. “Although your father has—”

  “If he’s sent you with a tent, it will be impossible to put up in the dark,” Cameron said. “We have a few spare tents up that belonged to those who have since fallen. You can shelter there tonight, and get up whenever you like."

  David nodded. “That would be acceptable,” he said. Cameron turned to Lewis, who nodded.

  “Why don’t you come with me, David?” he said. “I know where one is, and Cameron can take Isla to the other. Are there any supplies you need from your saddlebags? I can bring a candle, if so.”

  “Are the tents very far apart?” David asked and Cameron shrugged.

  “No,” he said. “The land is just difficult to navigate in the dark. Is that a concern?”

  “Of course not,” David said and glanced at Isla. “You’ll have to take your medicine before you leave.”

  “Yes,” Isla said. Cameron thought to inquire about what he meant but decided to leave that for another day. He was tired, and this was quite a lot to take in.

  Lewis, as usual, did not seem bothered by the proceedings of the night. He lit a candle, as promised, and they went out to the horses that were tied to nearby trees. Cameron hung back and watched as they unloaded their saddlebags. In the moonlight, Isla’s hair seemed to glow. She moved softly, as if she was afraid of putting a single foot out of line. David dug into his saddlebag and took out something that he slipped to her. She swallowed it and then washed it down with what was in her flask. He said a few words to her, and she nodded. Cameron couldn’t hear what they were, and Lewis was a distance away, tying his own horse, so he could not ask him. Whatever it was, Isla nodded several times afterward and then started to make her way towards Cameron.

  He tried desperately to not think about how beautiful she was. If he believed in such things, he truly could believe that she was a demigoddess, crossing the field towards him. She did have an unearthly beauty about her that made him suck in his breath. He knew that she wasn’t a demigoddess, that it wasn’t possible. Still, there was something about her that struck him deep in his soul.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked her, gruffly.

  “Yes,” she said, timidly.

  “Follow me,” he said and beckoned her forward with the lantern in his hand. The night was quiet and he was tired. He knew that as soon as he was alone, he was going to dream of her, and his dreams would not be pure.

  4

  Cameron had gotten quite used to navigating his way through camp in the darkness. Because they had not moved in nearly two weeks, he knew where every tree stump and fallen branch was. He knew where there were holes, and where former fire pits still littered the ground. However, he was aware that this was a skill and he moved very slowly to make sure that Isla did not fall.

  “This is very kind of you,” Isla said, quietly, as they moved. “I am sorry we arrived so late at night.”

  Away from David, she seemed a bit more outgoing, and he thought that it would be rude to not respond to her.

  “Did you ride very far today?”

  “Yes,” she said. “We were up at sunrise and rode all day.”

  “My goodness,” he said. “Why the rush? The battle we have planned isn’t for days.”

  “I know,” she said. “But your father wanted us to get to you as soon we could.”

  “Why?” Cameron asked.

  Isla looked afraid. “I am not sure. I am sorry.”

  Cameron realized that had come out harsher than he intended.

  “It's alright,” he said. “My father does not often reveal his motives. He is a man of few words.”

  “And you are his only child?” Isla asked.

  “Yes,” Cameron said. “Currently.”

  “Oh?” Isla said. He normally did not discuss such things, but he felt his words tumble out as they picked their way through the camp.

  “I had a brother,” he said. “And a sister.”

  “I am sorry. Did they recently pass?”

  “My sister, yes,” he said. “In childbirth. My brother passed many years ago, as a child.”

  “Oh,” she said. “That parcels Prince Alexander's story quite a bit.”

  “I know it does, and eerily so. When I heard it for the first time, I thought that it meant I was destined to be the next king of the Scots. I was a child, of course, so I did not know any better.”

  “Well,” Isla said, carefully, “right now, it seems everyone has an equal claim to the throne.”

  “Almost anyone has a better claim to that throne than I do,” he said. “Do not worry. I am not winning the war because I want to sit on the throne.”

  “I never thought that you were, for a moment,” she said with a soft smile. “I don't believe that is your future.”

  “Oh?” He turned to her. He could not resist asking her, if not simply for fun. “And do you know what my future will be?”

  Isla turned red. “No.”

  He held her gaze. “Just some truths come clearly to you?” he said and she sighed.

  “They...it is not easy,” she said. “The gift of visions is not granted to everyone.”

  “Do you not have it?” he asked.

  “Not with any accuracy,” she said. “I have visions, but they are hazy and do not seem to lead to much. Perhaps I am not gifted, or perhaps I am not gifted at interrupting them. Either way, my visions are not normally to be relied upon.”

  “Do you know anyone whose visions are meant to be relied on, then?” he asked.

  “David’s,” she replied. “His visions are always accurate.”

  “And how do they come to him?” he asked.

  “They come in his sleep,” she said. “He awakens and clearly sees the path forward. They rarely come when awake, as he is staring off into the distance. I have been with him when that has happened once or twice, and it is always humbling to witness.”

  “Visions that come to you when you sleep are called dreams,” he couldn’t resist saying. “I dream as much as anyone.”

  “Do your dreams come true?” she asked him.

  “Sometimes,” he said. He had never spoken about this to anyone. “But I suspect that’s because the future they predict is inevitable, and I am dreaming because I know it will happen.”

  “No future is inevitable,” she replied.

  “Yes,” he said. “Some are.”

  They had gotten to the tent that he intended to take her to, but Isla showed no interest in going inside.

  “What did you dream about that you thought was certain?” she asked. He took a deep breath and looked off into the distance.

  “When I was a child, I had dreams about my brother dying,” he said. “Every night he was sick, I dreame
d that he would die in the morning, riddled with fever. It was a week later that it happened, exactly as I dreamed it. I do not pretend to have prophecies, though. There was no way he would have survived the fever that took him.”

  “I see,” Isla said.

  “Please do not tell me that he would have survived if you had helped him,” he said. “I am very patient, but I do not believe I would be able to hold back my disbelief with such a statement.”

  “I would not pretend such a thing,” she said softly. “There were many factors at play that I could have not known about.”

  “Hmm,” he said. “But—”

  “There is no but,” she said. “No matter what you believe that David and I can do, we do not pretend to be able to change the past.”

  “I suppose that no one can change the past,” he said. “No matter what their beliefs or religion.”

  “Well…” She paused and looked around. He got the feeling that she was not used to speaking this much. He wasn’t sure whether it was because she was not allowed to speak this much, or whether it was because she usually did not have much to say. “I suppose the only way to change the past would be to change your viewpoint on it.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Your brother,” she said. “Was he a Christian?”

  “No,” Cameron said. “My family mostly worshipped the old gods. I did not learn my true path until I was nearly a man.”

  “So he believed in the old gods?”

  “He did,” Cameron replied.

  “And do you know what my gods say about the place you go when you die?”

  “It is the same, in many ways,” Cameron said. “If you have been a faithful worshipper, then you will be granted a life of eternal happiness.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “And so you were sad that your mother died, but he was ill and suffering. He is no longer doing either of those things. He is at peace and happier than you on your happiest day. If you love him, which I have no doubt you do, then you would be glad for him.”

 

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