by Mac Flynn
Much as I was forsaking God to release him.
I shuddered and quickened my step. The half mile to the village was crossed and as I entered the village all was quiet and still. I had never ventured out at such an hour, and found the silence did little to ease my troubled mind. I had crept away to procure my safe leave of the castle, and now I ventured forth to enlist the assistance of a witch to free my lover. My short stay at the castle had done much to fell me from grace, and yet I regretted nothing. I did all this for my laird. My love. He guided me and pushed me forth to help him in his purpose.
I walked among the dark houses of my youth. The lights of candles were snuffed out many hours ago, and all was still save for a dog or two that growled at my passing. I skirted the houses and kept to the dirt road, though the thick fog muddied the ground and the wheel ruts.
I thought of the witch to whom I ventured. She was rumored to be an ancient resident of the village from long before the time of my mother and father. Her sinful desire to know more about the world than God would allow had forced the villagers to cast her to the edge of the moor where her small hut stood.
I knew the way very well. My brother and I had often traveled across the paths to within a half mile of her small house. We longed to catch a glimpse of such a sinful person, but had always been disappointed. Now I traveled to her with the need to see what sort of person she was, but I longed to keep that half-mile distance.
I stopped and looked up. My footsteps had unknowingly brought me, no doubt by habit, to the door of my former home. I looked up at my old home and my heart sank. A longing of a life that was slipped into my heart and intruded on my mission. I thought of my mother and brother as they lay in their bed content and innocent in their lives while I stood outside with a life that was neither content nor innocent.
My eyes fell on the front door. I need only knock and they would give me shelter. The life in the castle would be abandoned and I would be my innocent self again, free to roam the moors and help Mother in her fair garden. My heart beat quickly as I stretched out my hand to knock.
Then, for the first time, I felt his power over me. This was not the same sensation as earlier where I craved his touch. No, at that moment I felt his will flow over me. He willed me to avert my eyes from the halcyon days of my innocence and towards the future that encompassed him. His will proclaimed that he would be the fire that guided me through the darkness of uncertainty that forever lingered in the future.
I clutched my chest and gasped. Such was his power that I felt my breath taken away, and I was filled with his spirit. A warmth washed over me that bid me say goodbye to my youth and welcome my womanhood, the womanhood he desired of me. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back so I looked up the stars that shimmered above me.
"Yours. . ." I murmured.
He was my laird, my god, my everything, and now he willed me to do his bidding. My arm dropped to my side and I opened my eyes. The world was still dark and full of mist, but no longer uncertain. I was his to bid, and now he bid me help free him.
I strode past my old home and onto the paths that led into the moors. The moors were a wild land of water and tall grass. Ancient, scraggly trees stood scattered here and there, sentinels to patches of solid ground. The rolling plains stretched far beyond the limits of the valley and covered the land in a green carpet of hidden water holes and outcroppings of sharp rocks. One false step off the path spelled certain death for lonely travelers who were unfamiliar with the area.
I was alone, but not on unfamiliar ground. The moors were a second home to me, and I walked along the maze of paths without much problem. The only difficulty proved to be with the fog. I had never before ventured forth in such thick mist. The white mist wrapped around me as would a heavy blanket and I was forced to pause and inspect my surroundings several times before I ventured further.
My footsteps didn't betray me, and in a half hour I found myself at the crest of a familiar hill. Beyond the hill lay a wide stretch of flat, marshy land. The land was devoid of any life save for the wild crow and a single dwelling. That was the house of the witch, a dwelling made from stacked stones and a thatched roof gathered from the tall moor grass. A stone chimney rose from the rear and a small plume of dark smoke flew from the flume.
Beneath my feet was a trail of rocks that meandered down to the plain upon which sat the dwelling. I followed the path down the steep incline and across the grassy plain to the abode of the witch. The home was short and held but one window. Several tables stood on either side of its wooden door and held scorched cauldrons and piles of moor grass. I swallowed the fear that arose inside of me and stepped up to the door.
I intended to knock, but the door swung open and revealed a bright interior lit by candles and the crackling fire. The walls of the single-room home were covered in dead animals, pots and pans, and herbs, all bounty from the moors. Tables stood against the walls and were covered in candle wax and dust. A figure stood near the fire with their hunched back turned to me. They were covered in layers of animal skins and soiled clothes.
"Step inside or we'll both catch our death of cold!" the old woman snapped at me.
I hurried inside and closed the door behind me. The figure turned to me and revealed a wizened old face of a woman long in years and great in cunning. Her narrowed eyes looked me over and her wrinkled lips were pursed together. Her hair was red and so long that it ran down her back and was tied around her waist.
"Well? What is it you want? I haven't all night," she questioned me.
"I-I wish for a potion to free a lycan bound-"
"A lycan?" she interrupted. She walked over to me with her back forever in a stoop. Her eyes darted over me and paused on my shirt. The old woman took a pinch of my shirt and rubbed the material between her fingers. "A fine shirt for a mere servant. Did you steal it?"
I frowned, but kept my voice calm. "I did not. It was a. . .a gift."
She cackled. "A gift from a certain young man, I would wager. The same who sends you to me, hmm?"
"That is correct," I replied.
She raised an eyebrow. "An honest type, eh? Not yet knowing of the world? He must have you spell-bound."
"He asked for a spell, and asked that I give this to you in payment," I told her as I removed the bag of coins from my pocket.
The old woman snatched the bag and opened the drawstrings to peer into the container. I saw a glimmer of gold before she snapped it shut and turned her long, beaked nose up.
"If I know the man you speak of then this hardly covers what he asks of me," she warned me.
"He promised you would receive the rest after the spell was cast," I added.
The witch sniffed. "Yes, I imagine he told you to say that, but I have less need of gold than any laird in his mighty castle." Her eyes flitted over me and fell on the top of my head. "You're hair, however, will be ample compensation."
CHAPTER 14
I reached up and clasped some of my hair in one hand. "My hair? But it has no powers-"
"Don't pretend to know my business, girl," the witch snapped at me. "A head of hair from one so innocent and in love as you are is as powerful a magic as any in the world, for innocence and love are a rare combination these days."
"How much would you take?" I asked her.
The witch stepped up to me and took a hold of some of my long hair. Her terrible smell wafted over to me and I tried not to lean away from her.
"I will be kind this night and ask for a lock, and your promise that you will not tell your mate that I have taken a part of you as payment," she bartered.
"And then you will give me the spell?" I wondered.
"Aye, and tell you how to use it," she added. She grinned and cackled. "Many a time someone has come asking for a spell without asking how to use it, and I've let them away with them thinking they had all that they needed."
I furrowed my brow. "Why do you not do the same for me?"
The witch dropped my hair and turned her back to me. S
he shuffled over to a table and snatched a pair of scissors from the top. "Because I know you, girl."
"But we have never-"
"Met?" she finished as she turned around. She shook her head. "No, never met, but I know your face, and the face of the young boy who was always with you when you ventured out here to satiate your curiosity."
I winced. "We meant no-" She held up her hand so her palm faced me.
"Do not apologize for no harm, and do not question my actions any further," she commanded me. "I ask for the lock and the gold, and in exchange I will give you the spell and how to use it. Is it agreed?"
I bowed my head. "It is agreed."
She shuffled over to me and pulled forward my long hair. In a thrice she snipped a lock of my hair. The piece was so small that even I could hardly tell from whence it came. She turned away from me and moved to the stone fireplace. A pot boiled over the fire, and to this she added a portion of my hair and other less savory ingredients to whatever already existed in the pot. She grabbed a pair of tongs and dipped them into the bubbling soup.
The witch pulled forth a dripping sliver of string. She moved over to the table nearest me and dumped the bag of coins onto the surface. The string was placed into the bag and held out to me.
"Take this string and have your cursed lover tie it around his wrist. That will allow him to cross the barrier," she instructed me.
I took the bag and clutched the string to my chest. "I can never thank you enough," I told her.
She waved her hand at me and half-turned away. "None of that. Be off with you." I bowed my head and made for the door. "Wait a moment!" she called to me. I paused and turned to her. The witch stood in the shadows created by the fire and I could not discern her face. "Take care of your innocence. If all else fails you, you will have that to fall upon," she advised me.
I smiled at her. "I will, and thank you again."
I hurried from the strange dwelling with my prize in my possession. The hour was nearly midnight as I made my way back to the village and beyond the small houses to the castle. I climbed the slope and returned to the small hole in the castle wall. The tunnel was still there, and I knelt beside the opening.
"Leod?" I whispered.
"Leod is here, my lady," his echoing voice answered.
I crawled into the tunnel and soon reached the stables. Leod helped me out and closed the tunnel with a push of the stone. The entrance closed, and he turned to me with worried eyes.
"Was my lady successful?" he asked me.
I pulled out the purse and his crestfallen face showed my mistake. A small smile flitted across my lips. "It is not as it appears. A single strand of string lays in here that will free Laird Tristan from his imprisonment," I assured him.
Leod's face brightened, and he turned us towards the door. "Then let us free my master."
We hurried from the stables and through the rooms to the top of the stairs. My laird's domain lay at the end of the passage. The door was shut, and no light granted us easy passage down the dark hall. We reached the door and I stretched out my hand to take hold of the handle
Someone stepped from the darkness at the end of the passage and grabbed my hand. I started back and turned to my attacker.
"Who are you?" a voice hissed.
I twisted in their grip, but they held me tight. "Release me!" I demanded.
The door swung open and let poured into the hall. My assailant was revealed to be Laird Campbell. He was robed in black which had concealed him in the darkness. Laird Tristan's eyes swept over the three of us.
"She is my guest this evening," he told his father.
Laird Campbell turned to his son and his eyes narrowed. "It is not the full moon, nor are you allowed to choose your own guest."
"Leod found this one among your servants and thought I would like her," Tristan insisted.
"You are lying," Campbell accused his son.
Tristan frowned. "Whether or not I lie, the girl has done nothing to earn harm from you. Release her."
"That remains to be seen," Laird Campbell returned. He turned his attention to me and pulled me close to him. "You will come with me, serving girl."
He strode down the hall and yanked me behind him. Tristan's eyes widened and he reached out his hand to me, but his fingers hit the barrier and stopped. He pressed his palms against the invisible barrier and a look of hatred marred his handsome face.
"Release her!" Tristan demanded, but his words went unheeded by his father.
I knew not what intentions the laird had for me, but my soul quaked with fear. My free hand brushed against the hidden bag that belonged to my laird, and which held his freedom. I braced my feet against the floor and tugged on Laird Campbell's sleeve.
"Wait! Wait a moment, my laird!" I begged.
Campbell stopped and glared down at me. "What is it?"
"I know not what goes on here, but your servant gave me some coins for my trouble. If I'm not to fulfill my duty then I wish to return them," I pleaded.
He held out his free hand to me. "Show me the bag," he ordered me.
I pulled out the bag given to me by Laird Tristan. Laird Campbell snatched the bag and looked it over. His eyebrows crashed down as he studied the bag, but he tossed the leather to Leod.
"Keep better care of your master's things," Campbell ordered the old servant.
Leod clutched the bag to his chest and bowed his head. "Aye, my laird."
"And remain here," Laird Campbell added. "For I wish to speak to you about this transgression of your authority.
"Leod will stay," Leod swore.
"Now you're to come with me," Laird Campbell commanded me.
He pulled me down the hall and the stairs to the entrance, but we did not leave. Instead, he turned towards the far wing in which I had yet to step foot. A pair of large, ornately carved wooden doors were set in the wall they showed scenes of hunting and the many battles between the rival clans. Campbell led me through the doors and into a plain but large throne room.
The space, known to the village as the Anointed Hall, took up the entirety of the lower north wing. The walls were covered in panels of dark oak wood, and the floor was of polished stone. The wall in front of us was filled with stained-glass windows of ancestors of the Campbell house. To our left lay a platform upon which sat a thick wooden chair carved from a single chunk of wood.
The grand hall was empty save for the two of us. Laird Campbell swung me in front of him and released my hand. I stumbled but caught myself before I fell. He marched up to me and loomed over me.
"What is the truth here, girl?" he questioned me.
"I told you, my laird. I know-" His hand swung out and the back slapped my cheek. I cried out and fell back onto the floor.
Laird Campbell moved to stand over me. His dark eyes glared down at me with suspicion and anger. "Do not lie to me, girl. My bride told me she had seen Leod with a female servant earlier this evening. My son has many vices, but he does not entertain more than one woman per evening." He knelt in front of me and searched my face. "Tell me the truth or by God I will condemn you to death for treason. What task did he pay you to perform?"
"I can answer that question," a voice spoke up.
Laird Campbell stiffened and his eyes widened. He turned around, and I was able to see the doorway. My lover stood in the open doorway. Around his wrist lay the string, and in his eyes was the fiery of a god. Laird Campbell's mouth dropped open and he stood.
"T-Tristan. But how?" he hoarsely whispered.
"That is the least of your concerns," Tristan replied. He opened one arm and smiled at me. "Come to me, my love."
I stood to my shaky feet and kept one eye on Laird Campbell as I skirted him and rushed to Tristan. He enveloped me in his arm and pressed me against his side. I grabbed his shirt and buried my face in the rich scent that was his. My eyes caught on Laird Campbell who still stiffly stood where I had abandoned him. His face was as pale as the freshly washed wool of a lamb and his body shook.
>
"We have much to discuss, Father," Tristan told him.
Laird Campbell shook his head and took a step back. "N-no. I won't-"
"You will hear what I have to say," Tristan insisted. He looked down at me and his voice softened. "Wait in my chambers," he commanded me.
"But-"
"Obey me on this," he firmly replied.
I pursed my lips, but nodded. He opened his arm and released me. I walked to the door, but paused and half-turned towards the room. Tristan moved towards his father who shrank from his son.
"Now let us discuss your forfeit of my inheritance," Tristan suggested.
I shuddered. His voice was grave and filled with wrath. I turned from this cold, demanding man who was so little like my lover and rushed from the room. My lover would return to me in his chambers, and I would welcome him with open arms.
CHAPTER 15
I swept through the cold, dark passages of Campbell Castle and hurried to my Laird Tristan's room. Leod waited where he had promised beside the door to my laird's chambers. He smiled and bowed his head to me as I ran breathlessly up to him.
"My lady has done a great service to my master," he thanked me.
I smiled at him. "No more than he would do for me," I replied.
Leod grinned and nodded his head. "Aye, aye, Master Tristan would do anything for my lady. Would my lady wish to rest while she waits for my master?"
"I would like that very much," I agreed.
The hour was past midnight, and the events of the night had caused a great strain on my mind and body. Leod guided me into the room and prepared the bed. The sheets were changed and tucked, and he stepped back.
"Leod will call you when my master commands it," he offered as he took his muddied cloak from my shoulders.