by Jennae Vale
He rubbed his arms and found that more bits of stone hit the ground. His memory returned with a force so great, he thought his head might explode. The witch! She’s the one who locked him in here. Yes. She’d turned him into a stone statue and enclosed him in this cave with the Twin Sword. It was all coming back to him now. If he ever got out of here, she’d surely pay. He’d see to it, because he’d have the sword and it would give him all the power he’d ever dreamed possible. He took a few tentative steps towards the sword. Would he be able to touch it? He extended his shaking hands towards it and he felt the air thicken the closer he came to it. He reached for it again, but no matter how close he got, he always seemed to hit an invisible wall. Malcolm sat down on the ground in front of it, contemplating what to do next. He was freezing and if he didn’t find his way out soon, he’d probably die.
A spark appeared in the air in front of his face and danced around him, filling him with warmth and flitting around his head. A voice whispered in his ear, “The sword will be yours, but first you must prove you are worthy of it.”
“How? How can I prove I’m worthy?” Malcolm searched the cavern. Perhaps the owner of the voice was hidden in some crevice of the cave that he couldn’t see.
“First, I will release you from this prison, and then you will do my bidding. When you have completed all of the tasks I’ve set before you, then and only then will you be able to possess the sword.”
Malcolm couldn’t believe it. The sword was right in front of him. He should be able to touch it and if he could touch it, he should be able to take it.
“I can hear your thoughts, Malcolm Granger. To touch the sword without first proving your worth would mean certain death.”
“Who are you? Where are you?” Malcolm once again peered into every corner in search of the man who spoke to him.
“I am the one who created the sword. I am here with you and yet far away. You cannot see me or know me. You must merely do as I tell you.”
Malcolm had always been at the top of his world. Never having to answer to anyone, but he wanted this sword more than anything and he was determined to have it, no matter the cost. “I’ll do as you ask, within reason, of course.”
“Reason should not be a problem for a ruthless man like you, Malcolm.”
“Do you know me?” Most people would balk at being called ruthless, but for Malcolm it was a badge of honor.
“I have known of you ever since you discovered the existence of the sword. Your desire to own it has been transmitted to me through time and space. I have watched you and seen the kind of man you are and I know what you are capable of.”
“I’m happy to know that you find me worthy of the sword.” Malcolm proudly puffed out his chest.
“Worthy is not a word I’d use to describe you, Malcolm Granger, but you will certainly do.”
Malcolm felt a bit of disrespect coming from this icy voice. “If I’m not worthy, then why me?” He had to control his irritation. He didn’t want to anger whoever this was.
“Because you are the only one capable of breaking it free from its current resting place.”
“Why won’t you tell me who you are?” Malcolm rose from his spot in front of the sword and paced like a caged animal, agitated at the situation he found himself in.
“I am a powerful sorcerer, which is all you may know. My name is not to be uttered by a living soul. Each time it is, it diminishes my power and as a man of power in your own world, I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, of course.” Malcolm stood up straight and tall. At least whoever this sorcerer was knew him for what he was, a powerful, successful man in his own time. “What do you need me to do?” He’d help him. He’d do anything to own the Twin Sword.
“There is a gem - an emerald - which I must have. You must find it and bring it back here to me. Once the gem and the sword have been reunited, I will be set free and you will have your sword.”
“Set free? What do you mean?” Was this man, this sorcerer, being kept here against his will?
“I have been made a prisoner of the Elfin Queen, Anania. We had a… disagreement some many years ago. She cast a spell upon me that has left me in this place - unseen and unheard until now.”
“I don’t understand. If you were made a prisoner, how do you still have the ability to set me free from my stone bondage? Doesn’t she know what you’re doing?”
“She may or may not. It is not my concern. As for my abilities, I am capable of some things and not others. She has left me with just enough power to affect the outside world to a certain extent, but not enough to set myself free. I believe she enjoys my torment, knowing that I cannot do more than orchestrate some minor inconveniences here and there. She is much like the woman who locked you in here with the sword, Malcolm. Women do not deserve to be the bearers of such great power. They abuse the privilege.” He spat the last words out like they were poison. “When I am free, I will see to it that Anania pays for what she has done to me.” The sorcerer’s voice began to shake with anger and he took a moment before he spoke again. “My only wish is to be released from this prison. As I’ve said, Malcolm Granger, you are the only one who can help me. And as I need your help, so will you need the help of another. I have sent someone to assist you in finding the emerald.”
Malcolm was beyond caring at this point. He just wanted to get his hands on that sword, but he wasn’t able to break through the invisible barrier protecting it. Unfortunately, that meant he’d have to do the bidding of this sorcerer, the one whose name he didn’t even know. This was the most ridiculous situation he could have found himself in and now he was being told he had a helper. Was he supposed to share the sword with them when he was allowed to have it?
“And exactly where is this helper and how am I supposed to find them?”
“You’re a resourceful man. I have every faith that you will find them and if you should fail, then you were not meant to possess the sword.”
“I’ll find them, you don’t have to worry about that, but are you going to give me a clue as to who or where they might be.”
“That much I can do for you. She is at Dunaill, a castle at Dunnet Head, which is northwest of here.”
“And how do you expect me to get there?” Malcolm’s patience was wearing thin. He wanted to get started as soon as possible and the sorcerer was feeding him information piecemeal.
“That is your problem to deal with. You can always walk. It is a good distance from here, so it may take you some time.”
“What exactly am I to do when I find this helper?” Malcolm growled.
“Mind your temper, Granger,” the sorcerer snapped. “She’ll lead you to the emerald I require, of course.”
“Then what?” Malcolm couldn’t hide his irritation with the lack of information he was receiving.
“Let’s see if you’re successful first and then we’ll speak again.” There was a cracking sound off to his left and as he turned to see what had caused it, the sorcerer said, “Now, I’ve created a narrow passage for you and if you head further back through it you’ll find there’s a small opening. I do hope you can fit through it,” the sorcerer laughed heartily at this.
Malcolm on the other hand, didn’t find it at all amusing. If this sorcerer needed his help, you would think he’d make it easier for him, but he knew it would do him no good to argue, because he had no idea what this sorcerer was capable of. “How will I get in touch with you?”
“I will get in touch with you. Now be off.” The glow from the sword began to waiver and Malcolm used what little light it emitted to find the narrow passageway that led through to the back of the cave. It was barely wide enough for him to squeeze through, but he did his best to slither along the walls, ducking occasionally when the ceiling became too low. Eventually, he came to a much larger cavern and he was able to stand to his full height. He’d felt a tad claustrophobic as he made his way through the narrow passageway, but now he had room to breathe and he could see light filtering
into this space from above.
“Damn it!” he swore. He was going to have to climb the rock walls in order to make his way out. Desperation was driving him. He couldn’t stay in here much longer without food or water and, more importantly, he wanted the sword. He began to climb. It was easy at first and then became more and more difficult the higher he climbed. Hand and foot holds were difficult to see and he slipped on more than one occasion, luckily catching himself before he plummeted back to the cave floor. Time passed slowly as he searched the rock walls for a path to the top. Inch by inch he made his way until finally he could feel the cool air hitting his face from the narrow opening at the top. He only had a few more feet to go. Being extra cautious, Malcolm made it to the top but was dismayed to find the exit much smaller than it seemed from down below. Luckily there was a ledge wide enough for him to stand on, and the rock opening began to break apart as he clawed at it with his bleeding fingers. Bit by bit, the opening grew until it was just wide enough for Malcolm’s large frame to pass through. He was in good shape, which was helpful because now he had to use the same bloody fingers to grasp the rock and pull his entire body weight up and through the opening. Success.
He finally made it and as he sat atop the rock formation, he could see for miles in every direction; but which way was northwest? He looked to the sky for guidance, but it must have been around noon, because the sun was directly overhead. He’d have to wait to see which direction it was headed in before he began his journey to Dunnet Head. Malcolm took the time to gather his strength. He was going to need it, because at this point he had no horse and his clothes were torn and ragged from being encased in stone and from climbing out of the cave. He’d begin his walk with the purpose of finding clothing and a horse. How he was going to do that, he had no idea.
* * *
The sorcerer told him his helper was a woman. Great! That was all he needed, some woman getting in his way. Malcolm had always been a misogynist. He couldn’t help it. Women did nothing but complicate things and he found their constant whining and complaining almost unbearable. They were little or no help as far as he was concerned. The women who worked for him did their jobs well, but he rarely gave them anything he considered executive level work. That he left to the men in his employ. This must be a test of some kind. If so, he’d pass with flying colors, even if he had to carry this woman on his back all the way back to that cave. He always came out on top and he intended to this time as well.
Malcolm had trekked many miles and from the look of things, he had many more to go. He hoped he’d find someone nearby to give him some food and perhaps a horse. As he traversed the path heading towards his helper, he heard the distinct sound of a rider coming his way. Malcolm still had his sword; no one had thought to take it away from him before he was encased in stone, so he was at least armed. As the rider approached, Malcolm made a split second decision. He would rob this man of his horse and anything else he could use.
Malcolm stood his ground in the center of the road, waving slowly to let the rider know he was in need of help. As he’d hoped, the horse went from a ground eating trot to a more leisurely walk before it stopped altogether about a foot or two away from him.
“Good sir,” Malcolm faked a Scottish accent. “I need yer help. Me lady has fallen ill and I’ve need of help to move her to a more comfortable spot where I can set up camp.”
The man skeptically looked around him and when he saw nothing, his suspicious eyes narrowed. “I dinnae see anyone.”
“She’s just beyond those trees.” Malcolm pointed off into a heavily wooded area.
“Why dinnae ye set up yer camp there then? Nae need to move the lass.”
“I suppose that I could, but I’d like to take her to a spot where she may receive more sunshine and warmth. Please, sir, I beg of ye.”
“What sickness does she have?” He seemed to be debating whether or not to help.
Malcolm understood that contagious illness would probably send the man on his way without further ado. “She’s pregnant sir and I’m afeared if we dinnae stop soon, she’ll have our bairn right here.” He impressed even himself with his acting abilities.
The man didn’t move. He sat atop his horse, obviously weighing his decision. Finally, after a long, silent wait, he said, “Verra well then, I’ll help ye, but I must be on me way quickly.” He dismounted and followed Malcolm off the roadside, where he found a sword at his throat and a stranger who had gone from desperate to sinister within a few steps of the road.
“I’ll take yer clothes and yer horse, sir. I’m afraid I have a much greater need of them at this moment than ye.”
The man stood his ground. It was obvious he did not plan on giving Malcolm anything, so Malcolm backed him into a tree, still holding the sword at his throat. “I’ll kill ye as look at ye. Do as I’ve asked and do it quickly.”
The man hesitated again and this time, Malcolm poked his neck ever so slightly with his sword, drawing blood. “Next time, ye’ll be dead.”
The man began disrobing and as he did, Malcolm gathered his clothes, wrapping them all within the man’s cape. Forcing the man to sit at the base of a tree, he ripped some fabric from his own shirt and used it to bind the man’s hands around the tree. It wasn’t the best job he’d ever done of securing a knot, but it would last long enough for him to get away. Once out of sight, he’d change clothes and continue on his way to Dunnet Head.
Chapter 6
Nick’s excitement at nearing his home was palpable. “We’re almost there, lass. ’Tis just beyond those hills.” He pointed to some green and rocky hills not too far ahead of them. “Once we crest them, we’ll be there.” He urged his horse forward into a canter and held tightly to Katriona, lest she fall. He felt her muscles tighten and reassured her, “Ye’ll be safe here and once we’ve gotten settled and I’ve had time to visit with my family, we’ll see about getting ye back to Edinburgh.”
He could feel her relax. “Thank you again, for coming to my aid. I’m not sure what would have happened to me if I hadn’t run into you.”
“’Tis best not to think on it. I fear Laird Calhoun’s men would have eventually found ye and brought ye back to him. The good news is that here with my family ye will come to no harm. As fer yer marriage, ye may need to petition the church to annul it fer ye. They would surely agree, being that ye were a bride purchased against yer will.”
“I hope so.” She drew the cape more tightly around herself.
“Are ye still cold, lass?” The urge to protect Katriona from anything that might cause her a moment’s discomfort was so strong it gave him pause. He had always been a man of honor and would do the same for anyone he told himself.
“I’m afraid I am. I’ve never done well in the cold and I’ve been so cold these last few days that I don’t believe I’ll thaw out for at least a week.”
“If ye like, I can let ye down and ye can run alongside. That should warm ye up quickly,” he teased.
“No thanks, I think I’ll stay where I am. I like it here.” She smiled sweetly at him, seemingly not the least put off by his odd sense of humor.
“All right then, I guess I’ll just have to grit my teeth and bear it.” He was continuing to tease her, but he was happy to know she wanted to stay securely in his arms. The satisfaction he received from that small acknowledgement was immense and he felt a twinge of guilt that he was enjoying it so much.
He slowed his horse to a walk, as they were approaching the hillside, which was littered with rocks of all sizes. He allowed the horse to carefully pick his way to the top and then down the other side.
His heart soared at the sight of his family castle nestled here on the cliffs of Dunnet Head, and he spurred his horse into a gallop for the last short leg of their journey. As they drew closer, voices called a warning from atop the battlements and Nick remembered that in their eyes he was either dead or long lost. He stopped short of the gate and shielding his eyes from the sun, gazed up to the top of the battlements.
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“Saints be praised. I cannae believe me eyes. Is it ye, Sir Nicholas or some wily imposter come to invade our castle?” The man peering over the battlements had a wide grin on his face as he waved wildly in their direction.
“’Tis I, Alan, I see ye havenae forgotten me!” Nick called, delighted to see one of his men after all this time.
“How could we possibly forget ye, Sir Nick? We thought ye dead after all this time. Open the gates, Harry!” Alan called to someone out of their sight.
The gates creaked open and Nick and Katriona rode through to be greeted by Alan who’d run down to meet them. “Harry, go tell everyone Sir Nicholas has returned to us.”
Harry ran through the courtyard, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Sir Nick is back! Sir Nick is back!”
Nick hopped down from his horse and reached up to help Katriona down. His joy at being home could hardly be contained.
* * *
Kat was captivated by the scene playing out in front of her. She wasn’t sure exactly why Nick had been absent for so long. Surprisingly, they hadn’t discussed it on their journey to Dunaill, but it was obvious that he’d been greatly missed. A mass of people were running towards them, all calling out excitedly to him. He was surrounded by people hugging him and patting him on the back. Kat was pushed further and further away from him as they all crowded around.