by Clare Wilson
Adaira looked crestfallen at the thought. ‘How long shall we be living like this, Torean?’
‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ he said softly. ‘They'll make their move upon the next new moon which is roughly nine or ten days from now. We must be here in Cairn Holme for the final attack. Until then they will keep looking for us. For tonight we should try to enjoy our meal and get some rest. The coming days won't be easy, but we are strong.’ As he said this he put a hand on Aneirin’s shoulder, showing his belief in his family. The boy returned the gesture and gave his mother a smile to try to reassure her.
While Adaira finished preparing the meal, Tom and Torean walked around the camp using rabhadh to place wards around them as they had done the previous night with the farm.
The four settled down to a stew which Adaira had made using the supplies they had managed to take with them from the cottage. None of them felt particularly hungry, although the act of doing something which was normal and routine seemed to help them come back to themselves.
After their meal Tom stood looking out over the valley. The cottage was no longer alight, but he could still see smoke rising from where the house had been. He didn’t think he would get much sleep and he found his mind wandering back to that night at the farm. Who was the mysterious lady who had provided their warning? Were they going to be able to survive for nine days in this hillside alone? He felt terrified and for the first time since he had achieved control of his power, he wished for his grandfather. He understood now why his granda had said he would need to wait until he was older to learn the ways of the staff. After everything they had been through, Tom felt like nothing more than a confused child.
As they lay down to bed Torean sat by the fire, he could tell that they were all shocked by the day’s events and were unlikely to get to sleep easily. As an act to help both he, as well as the group he leaned back and sang a song in a soft lilting voice.
In years gone by when times were dark,
I often thought upon my home.
The place I lay my head to dream,
the place my heart is free to roam.
My love is far from where I lie,
though I can see her bonnie smile.
For she is close within my heart,
within slumber deep tis ne’r a mile.
So home is never far away,
For in my sleep I see her eyes.
So in my dreams I see my home,
I see the hills and glens arise.
Torean stopped singing and lay down to his bed, a tear rolling down his cheek. The song had allowed them all to grieve for the losses of the day.
Tom also believed that it had given them hope. While they may have lost the farm, they would never lose their home. They would rise to this challenge, and once they had defeated the evil which had driven them to such extremes, they would return and rebuild the life they had previously lived. As Tom dozed off to sleep, he shed a tear for his own home and his family so far away. In his dreams that night he was back with his grandfather and mother. He could not speak with them. He could see them sitting around the table in his grandfather’s garden laughing. Yet, no matter how hard he tried he was stuck, unable to reach them or make them hear him. It felt as though he was looking at them through a screen, watching them from far away.
Chapter Six
The Ears that Hear
The Sheriff lay in his bath in front of a roaring fire, soaking after the trials of the day. Staring at the flames, his mind flashed back to the cottage ablaze. As he lathered up some more suds he didn’t want to have to think about what he had done. He rose from the bath and, drying himself, crossed the room to his bed. The picture of his father on his bedside table seemed to be staring at him. Putting the picture face down, he stood, lifted his clothes from a chair next to the bed and put them into the bath water. His clothes and hair had smelled strongly of burning wood and smoke. While he was easily led, the Sheriff had until now always been in essence a good man. In order to distract him from the thought that he had knowingly burned a man alive, he fanaticised about what Lady Naithara would say when he told her his good news. He imagined her running into his arms and him kissing her passionately. He found that such thoughts were enough to remove images of the burning building. She is worth anything, he thought. With such deluded fantasies, he changed into his night clothes and went to bed.
The next morning he hurriedly completed the tasks required of him and retired back to his quarters to change into his best clothes. He wanted to look perfect for Naithara. He looked into the mirror and thought he didn’t look at all like he had been involved in a fire the previous day. The Sheriff had always been quite a cowardly man, with a somewhat gentle face. If he hadn’t been so pleased with himself he would have noticed the slight change around his eyes. Where they had once been big, open brown eyes there was now a slight cruelty around the edges. With his head full of thoughts of love and passion, he left his abode and headed to the Laird’s estate.
He was excited as he walked up the long gravel drive to the large house. The air seemed sweet to him, he stopped to smell the flowers and looked out over the lake at the front of the house. All thoughts of guilt and insecurity were gone. As he rang the bell his mind drifted back to thoughts of Lady Naithara throwing herself into his arms. He was so engrossed in his lustful thoughts, he didn’t notice Lizzy open the door.
‘Can I help you, Sheriff?’ she enquired.
He started when he saw her. ‘Ah,’ he stuttered. ‘I’m here to see the Laird and Lady Naithara with news of the utmost importance.’
Lizzy ushered him into the reception room and went to fetch the Laird.
Lady Naithara had come out of her room at the sound of the door bell. ‘Who was at the door, Lizzy?’ she enquired.
‘It was Sheriff Macdonald,’ she replied, climbing the stairs to the Laird’s study. ‘He wishes to see yourself and the Laird regarding some important news.’
At this Naithara pushed past Lizzy and went downstairs.
Lizzy took a deep breath to calm herself at Naithara’s rudeness and went to the Laird’s study door. She knocked on the door and entered. ‘My lord, Sheriff MacDonald is here to see you with important news. Lady Naithara has already gone down to greet him.’
The Laird, who could see the look of annoyance on Lizzy’s face, simply smiled and shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. That girl is too nosy for her own good. But she only does so in order to protect me. Young ones these days just don’t understand how things aught to be done. Apart from you, that is.’ At this the Laird rose from behind his large desk and went downstairs.
Lizzy advised she would run along and fetch them some tea.
As the Laird entered the reception room he noticed Naithara was almost bursting with excitement, while Sheriff MacDonald was trying to suppress a grin. The Laird was puzzled by their happy expressions. ‘What’s all this?’ he questioned. ‘This is a serious matter I understand? Was I mistaken?’
‘Yes, a grave business,’ the Sheriff replied, suddenly changing his demeanour and looking more like a professional than a love sick school boy. ‘It regards the MacKays. I was informed that the boy was involved in stealing. When I went to arrest him he fled the scene. There was a struggle and during the confusion the house went up in flames. My men and I managed to escape, however we believe Torean MacKay was burned alive.’
The Laird dropped into his chair in shock. ‘My God!’ the colour had drained from his face. ‘This is appalling!’
‘Yes,’ Naithara interrupted, looking smug. ‘I told you they were trouble, uncle.’
‘No!’ the Laird exclaimed, looking at her as though he could not comprehend her response. His expression looked as if he wasn’t sure who she was. ‘I find it appalling that a good man is now dead. How heavy handed were your men for there to have been such an outcome? What did the boy even steal?’ He couldn’t take in what he was hearing.
‘Well,’ responded the Sheriff. ‘I have the utmost confidence in my me
n. There was no heavy handed behaviour on our part. Also, with regard to the stealing, if you must know, it was silverware from this very house. We found the goods at the cottage. It was an open and shut case.’
The Laird, still in shock, looked even more puzzled. ‘Silverware… I have no memory of anything being reported missing?’
At this Naithara once again interrupted and said in a very forthright voice, ‘Uncle, it was I who reported the crime. I did not wish to worry you and thought it could be dealt with quickly.’
‘Worry me?’ the Laird said, bemused. ‘It is my property. I would ask that you do not take such liberties in future, my dear. While I understand your intentions, you should know your place.’
Suddenly Naithara had become aware that Lizzy was hovering in the corner taking a great deal of time to arrange the tea cups. ‘Lizzy, dear,’ she said, looking over at her impatiently. ‘I will take care of that, you run along.’ Naithara knew she did not need the staff gossiping about such affairs.
As Lizzy left the room she felt like she was going to faint. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. She also thought to herself that she was not aware of any missing silverware. It had been used for the dinner with the Sheriff two nights before and Aneirin MacKay had not been to the house in over a week.
Back in the reception room the Laird was enquiring after Adaira and Aneirin. ‘Where are the boy and his mother now?’
‘When the boy absconded his mother went with him,’ the Sheriff replied. ‘I suppose that she could even be declared an accomplice.’
‘Well!’ the Laird exclaimed. ‘If you can prove your charges against the lad, all well and good, but that woman has been through enough. She does not need further pain. In fact… can you charge the boy with theft if I do not wish to press charges?’
‘Uncle!’ Naithara burst in. ‘It is a crime which I reported!’
‘Well, young lady,’ her uncle said angrily, ‘it was not your property to report stolen in the first place.’
Naithara was livid at the Laird’s scolding tone but sat in silence.
‘As such,’ the Laird said, now turning to the Sheriff. ‘I appreciate your enthusiasm, however, in future I would hope you will not arrest people for crimes against myself when I have no knowledge of them. The same goes for you, Naithara. I understand you only do these things out of fondness for me, even so, if you had consulted me on this matter earlier, perhaps a good man would not now lie dead.’
By this point the Sheriff was also livid at being treated like a naughty child. ‘As you wish,’ he said curtly. He then rose from his chair. ‘Now if you can excuse me, my Lord, I have other business to attend to.’
‘Of course,’ the Laird said matter of factly, gesturing towards the room door. ‘I am sure Naithara would be happy to see you out.’ The Laird rose from his chair and left the room without another word. He could not believe what he had just heard. Torean MacKay had been a close friend of his since childhood and now he was dead; dead for no better reason than that of petty theft. That was also something which he could not imagine young Aneirin to be capable of. I have known the boy all his life. Could he do this?
Lady Naithara led the Sheriff out. Before she opened the door she turned, pressing herself against the wood. ‘Don't let such foolish words perturb you,’ she said softly. ‘While the boy may be free, it was Torean MacKay who was the threat. You have proven yourself most capable, Michael. If you would like to understand more about what we can achieve together, meet me at midnight in the clearing beyond the aviary.’
The Sheriff merely nodded excitedly as Naithara opened the door and ushered him out. As he walked away from the house he felt as if he was dancing down the street. In his head he fantasized about what he was sure would be a romantic rendezvous in the clearing. It had all been worth it. How could he have doubted her affection for him? That night it would be the two of them alone, talking and deciding how they would rule the estate once the old man was gone. Now completely carried away, ‘Laird,’ he said aloud. He thought to himself, I always knew I was destined for greater things.
* * *
Unbeknown to Naithara, Lizzy had overheard her conversation with the Sheriff while being very conscientious about polishing the banister in the hall. As Naithara went upstairs to her room thinking everything she wanted was happening as expected, Lizzy was thinking of a way to get to the clearing at midnight undetected.
That night, after finishing her chores for the evening and checking neither the Laird nor Lady were in need of anything else, she hurried up the stairs to her room in the attic to prepare for the task which lay ahead. It was ten to eleven. Quietly closing her room door behind her, she crept over to her small cupboard in the corner and retrieved her full length travelling cloak. It had been a gift from the Laird a year earlier, since she often had to go on errands to other towns and villages for him. It had been an old cloak which had belonged to the Laird’s late wife, but Lizzy had been grateful for such a generous gift. She loved the way it flowed around her; she had never owned anything so grand. Donning the black cloak she quietly descended the stairs to her usual exit at the back of the scullery. Moving quickly and quietly through the dark grounds she arrived at the clearing at around eleven fifteen. It was around a quarter of a mile north of the main house. Looking around herself hurriedly, she picked a tree close by and decided to climb it so she could hide out of sight among the branches. She was cold and terrified, but could not think of any other way to get further information regarding what the Lady was doing. It was awkward to climb the tree wearing her cloak, yet it gave her the best protection against being seen. She found a branch halfway up the tree which seemed comfortable enough and settled to await the arrival of Naithara and the Sheriff. It was a chilling place. Surrounded by a circle of trees, it was private, but was strangely lit by the moon above. The birds, now asleep, left the place eerily quiet. After a time, when her body stopped shivering, she started dozing off. With a shake, she forced herself to stay awake. Lizzy, she thought, you cannot afford to lower your defences at a time like this.
Lady Naithara was the next to arrive in the clearing some forty minutes later. She lit torches and placed them in a circle, then disappeared into the shadows to await her guests. Soon Lizzy noticed figures appearing out of the darkness to gather in the circle. There were six people standing in the group when Naithara made her entrance, appearing slowly from the shadows. ‘My, friends, thank you for coming,’ she said in a booming voice. ‘We have made a great step forward in our mission. I would like to thank those of you who have been patient waiting for this moment to come.’ The men looked around the group, nodding in satisfaction. ‘Tonight I will welcome a new addition into our band,’ Naithara continued. ‘It is thanks to him we are now in a position to tell my master some very exciting news.’ At this the Sheriff appeared in the clearing. He was the only one who was not cloaked and he looked rather confused. The expression on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and disappointment. He was sheepishly hiding some flowers behind his back.
‘Welcome, Michael,’ Lady Naithara said, taking no notice of his confusion. ‘You have proven yourself worthy to join our group. Let me introduce you to our friends.’
One by one the people removed their hoods. Lizzy had to stop herself from gasping aloud when she saw who stood in the clearing. Among the group were the most important people in the county: people like the Lord Provost and the local Church Minister. She even saw the local butcher Ruthven McDermott among the group. He was a large man with a limp, but had fists which could floor a giant. The Lord Provost stood at Naithara’s right hand. She couldn’t help but think he was her apprentice. He had a definite air that this was what he was born for. He was a proud peacock of a man, and Lizzy was now sure of the fact that he was no good. She had always feared him, but had thought he intimidated her because of his position. He was a man who looked at you the way a cat looked at a mouse. She noticed this was how he looked at the Sheriff and she somehow felt sorry for h
im.
‘As I promised,’ Naithara said, addressing the group, ‘we are now in a position to call upon my master and inform him the last obstacle in his rise to glory has been removed. I know you have all waited for this as long as I have, and soon with all your help we will take control of such great power that none shall be able to stand in our way.’
Michael couldn’t help himself, ‘Lady, what power is this?’ he said. ‘You make it sound almost supernatural?’
Lady Naithara laughed. ‘Well of course it is. You must have felt the power between us lately. We are all drawn to the banner of power.’ She then turned away from the confused Sheriff to address the group as a whole. If he was such an idiot then he at least had served his purpose. ‘Now, I will waste no more time. I have longed to be in the presence of my master for too long. If you will all join in the chanting he will use your collective energy to sustain him. ‘Hamish,’ she said turning to the Provost. ‘Can you please lead the group?’
‘Of course, my Lady,’ the Provost said with a subservient bow.
The group began to chant Nathura Gathera to a strange rhythm. At this Naithara raised her hands and chanted atop of their voices, calling for Eiric to come forth. The winds rose and soon that same heavy atmosphere which had been in Naithara’s room came over the clearing. It swirled like a whirlpool until the entire clearing was enveloped with its stench. Lizzy had to cover her mouth to stop herself from retching.
‘You called me?’ a deep voice said. ‘I hope it was not in vain, Naithara.’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ she responded eagerly. ‘I have great tidings. We have removed Torean MacKay, the last obstacle to your ascendance.’