A Winter Moon

by S. J. Smith

  THE END

  Bonus Story 38 of 40

  Loch Morar’s Dragon

  Maisie was no stranger to exploring the lands around her family's home on her own. She would never grow tired of the tall, rocky crags and sprawling lochs tucked away in all the nook and crannies. It seemed as if there was always something new to discover every time she left their little village, something that Maisie had managed to pass by no matter how many times she rode or ran through the same places. There were caves a person could lose themselves in, and some of the lochs, though small, were so deep it was impossible to see the bottom.

  Maisie had never been afraid of anything that lurked in the hills around them. She never went too far from the village, as per her father's wishes, and even that small population meant that predatory animals stayed far away from it, lurking only in the thickest woods and deepest caves, preying on the wildlife that roamed there, the same as the villagers did. Recently, however, there had been rumors and news of a particularly brave pack of wolves in the area. Several of the shepherds in the surrounding villages had lost sheep to them, and had devoured them so completely that there was only a handful of bones left behind.

  Wolves didn't prey on humans, however, at least that was what Maisie had learned growing up, so there was little reason for her to be afraid. If the pack was growing fat on sheep then she need not worry about them attacking her out of desperation and could continue her roaming free of fear, so long as she was back by sundown and had finished all she needed to do for the day, her father's only real requirements. Her brother wasn't quite so lucky, but he made a decent living as the village's sole blacksmith. Maisie missed wandering the highlands with him, but his income helped put food on their table, and she couldn't be angry at him for that.

  The morning had brought with it the perfect weather for a romp in the endless countryside. Even with summer on the way, the air in the morning was still cool to bring the kiss of dew to the grass and settled in Maisie's long hair. She finished her chores with lightning speed, dumping out the pots and feeding the goats and chickens all before her father and brother had moved from their beds. She could have left a message to let them know where she had run off to, but they knew her well enough, and should they question, Maisie passed a small number of people on her way out of the village, all of whom could attest to her whereabouts. It was far too nice a day to spend inside slaving over the fire or helping Ramsay in his shop. No, it was a day for an adventure.

  Determined to find something new, Maisie set out with nothing but the clothes on her back and a small satchel filled with food for the day. Even if she did nothing other than find a fair spot to sun herself, it was better than being cooped up in the village, surrounded by the noise and mess of people. She would far rather soak in the sounds of nature, and there was plenty of that to go around. With the ease born of years of experience, Maisie made her way through the rocks and trees, past what was familiar and seeking something new.

  She slipped into the forest, letting her feet follow the well-worn hunting paths, letting her soul guide her on her way. Under her breath she hummed a quiet ditty. Around her the wilderness thrived, all but untouched by man, and perfect in its wildness. She was too far in for the wind to reach and rustle the leaves, but she could hear critters skittering about in the brush. She wondered if they could enjoy the weather as much as she did. She imagined no creature was immune to such a joyful day.

  Her wanderings took her off the trail and into the thick of the woods, but still she knew where she was. At a very young age she had known what signs to look for to find her way home again, and the trunks around her were as familiar as the walls of her house. For eighteen years she had explored the woods, and they never failed to surprise her in one way or another.

  For a time, Maisie walked aimlessly, humming, letting the trees and bushes around her brush against her skin and tug at her dress. The earth was cool and moist under her bare feet, though she had a pair of shoes tucked away in her bag along with her food, just in case. When hunger started to grow in her belly she stopped and looked for a decent place to sit and eat, only to realize that she didn't recognize where she was. She automatically glanced over her shoulder. She could see the trail she had made easily enough, and as long as she could see that then she would be fine. Just to be safe, she slipped her little knife from her satchel and whittled away a bit of bark off a nearby tree until there was a clear mark on the trunk.

  Satisfied, she moved to where the trees were thinner and settled in a patch of pale sunlight. It had warmed the grass where it shone. Maisie curled her toes and broke off a bit of bread from the small loaf she had stuffed into her satchel. She nibbled at the fleshy part and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her skin. When the hunger in her stomach abated, she looked around the little clearing she found herself in. She had seen dozens like it, but it was exciting because it was new, and Maisie added it to the mental map she had in her head of the world around her.

  She continued on not long after, and soon broke out of the woods and into more hills and valleys. She tipped her head back to peer up at the sky, judging the time by the position of the sun, when a black speck caught her eye. Initially she thought it was a bird, but it was so high and so large that it couldn't be. It circled overhead, but no matter how much she looked, Maisie couldn't make out any definitive shape. She picked her way down the side of the hill she stood on, heading down to the small creek she could see in the valley below.

  It was a rather steep incline and Maisie went carefully, but the stones and dirt beneath her feet were slippery and one wrong step sent a shock of pain through her ankle and she tripped and tumbled down the rest of the hill. The world was a blur as she went head over heels to the bottom and struck her head hard against the rocks below. Her ears rang and she swore the earth shook as a sharp cry pierced the air. Her vision blackened at the corners, but before the darkness overtook her she felt something large and strong wrap around her middle and lift her body off the ground.

  *****

  The aches and pains in her body were the first things Maisie was aware of, tugging her away from the quiet peace of slumber and back into the world of the living. Her ankle felt swollen and tender, and when she gingerly prodded at the sore spot on her head with her fingers she found a lump and the ridge of a cut crusted with dried blood. She hissed in a breath and let her hand fall back down, not quite ready to open her eyes. She felt around gingerly. There was a bed beneath her, the mattress far softer than the pallet she slept on at home, and covered in furs and blankets. Several of them were tangled around her hips and legs.

  She pushed at them and opened her eyes. The pain that followed made her almost close them again right away, but she settled for squinting until the light stopped being so bright and she could look around. She was in... a cave. A well-lit cave, with an opening in the roof to allow sunlight to filter in, in addition to at least a dozen lanterns and even more candles, making the enclosed space seem as bright as the world outside. There was furniture as well, though sparse; a table and chair, a wardrobe, and the bed. There seemed to be only one other exit from the cavern, excluding the hole in the ceiling. Candlelight flickered along the curved walls.

  Maisie very gingerly pushed herself up until she was sitting, leaning back against the headboard. It seemed like there wasn't an inch of her that didn't hurt, but a quick glance over the side of the bed revealed her satchel, complete with her food, shoes and knife, and she was still fully clothed. Her memory was a blur, and trying to think only succeeded in making her head ache more. She remembered eating, and then exploring, and then nothing but a whirl of colors and the utter darkness that followed.

  She pushed back the blanket and tried to stand, but her ankle wouldn't support her weight. With a sharp gasp and a wince, she fell back onto the bed and carefully bent her leg to prod at the bandaging she found. She could barely rotate it, and standing on it was obviously out of the question unless she could find something to bear her weight.
She was looking for anything that would do as a makeshift crutch when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor leading to the cavern turned bedroom.

  Maisie froze. She couldn't run, but there was nowhere to hide either. She lay back down in the bed and pulled the blankets back over her hips and did her best to look like she was asleep, despite the frantic pounding of her heart. The steps carried too much weight to be a woman. And how would a woman have dragged her to... wherever she was? No, it had to be a man.

  Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when she heard a heavy, distinctly male sigh coming from very close to the bed. Maisie didn't dare risk cracking an eye open to look. It was enough of a struggle to keep her face relaxed. The hand she felt on her brow just after was gentle, despite the roughness of the man's skin. Maisie thanked God that she didn't flinch at his touch. It seemed like he was feeling for a fever, and when he didn't find one, wet a cloth and pressed it to her brow and the cut just under her hairline. It was oddly soothing, even if it did intensify the pain. The man smoothed her hair back from her head and then his touch vanished.

  Maisie waited, her ears perked for any sign of him leaving, ready to attempt an escape once the coast was clear, but her exhaustion was too great and she lacked the energy to move, and soon fell back into a dreamless sleep. When she woke again it was moonlight shining through the hole in the roof of the cavern, not the sun. Panic set in immediately. She had been gone too long. It was far past sundown. Her father, her brother, they would-she needed to- she sat up so abruptly that her head spun.

  “Careful,” a strange voice said, deep and soft, from nearby. “Yer head took quite a knock.”

  “Where am I?” Maisie asked. She opened her eyes but all she could see was darkness. “I cannae be here, I need t' return home.”

  “Yer nae goin' anywhere in this state,” the voice said, closer to her side. A light swam before her eyes and then a face came into view. Maisie instinctively shrank back. “I'm sorry. I mean ye no harm. I found ye by the creek and... ye were so pale, hardly breathing. I could nae simply leave ye lyin' there.”

  “Where am I?”

  “In a safe place,” the man said. “My name is Grant.” He set the candle down on the little table and pulled the chair over to the bedside. He looked at her expectantly. The only thing Maisie could truly make out in the dark was that he had dark hair.

  “Maisie,” she said. “What is this place?”

  “My home,” Grant said. He glanced away, his embarrassment plain. As Maisie's eyes adjusted, she could pick out more details. He was clean shaven and his hair fell just below his ears. His clothes looked simple, but there weren't any rips or tears that Maisie could see, but his plaid was not one that she recognized. The only thing truly queer about the entire situation was that the man lived in a cave. Was he some kind of criminal? Maisie scooted a bit farther away and eyed him warily.

  “What kind o' man lives in a cave?” she asked.

  “How's yer head?” Grant asked instead. “Do ye feel dizzy at all?”

  “No,” Maisie replied.

  “And yer ankle?” Grant asked. He gently lifted the blanket to inspect her foot, seeming un-bothered by the low light. “Ye turned it badly on tha' hill, but I dinnae feel any breaks.”

  “It hurts,” Maisie said.

  “Aye, it will,” Grant replied, “for a time. Ye need t' stay off it for it t' heal properly.”

  “Ye seem t' know much about these things.”

  “Aye,” Grant said again. He rolled her ankle gently. Maisie winced, but didn't pull away. The longer she spent in his company the more comfortable she grew. It was a slow process, but if he had anything untoward in mind surely he would have acted on his desires already, especially since she was hardly in any position to fight him off. The thought made her shoulders relax, if only a fraction.

  “My family will miss me,” she said. “They'll wonder where I am. They'll come looking for me.”

  “They willnae find ye,” Grant said, then looked like he immediately regretted his words. “I said tha' poorly,” he replied. “I meant t' say we're very well hidden away here. 'Twould be a trial for them t' find ye.”

  “I suppose I owe ye my thanks, then,” Maisie said carefully.

  “Think nothin' of it,” Grant replied.

  “How long must I remain here?”

  “'Til ye can walk.”

  It was the answer Maisie expected, but not the one she wanted. “I need t' send word t' my family,” she said. She didn't have to fake the desperation in her voice. “They'll think me dead.”

  “I have writing implements,” Grant replied, then looked over his shoulder and squinted into the darkness. “Somewhere.”

  Maisie felt her cheeks warm and was glad for the darkness to hide the flush. Why was she embarrassed? She was far from the only person in and around her village who had never learned her letters. She knew numbers, and could make a mark if needed, but she couldn't write her name, let alone a full message to her family to tell them she was alive and well, in a manner of speaking.

  Grant stood, leaving her side to search around the room for what Maisie assumed was ink and quill and a shred of parchment. Maisie watched his shape move around in the darkness. She knew she should speak, but her throat was tightly closed. Grant disappeared from her view.

  “I cannae write!” she said, suddenly and loudly, wincing at how her voice echoed off the walls of the cavern. In the silence that followed she heard far off drips of water, coming from somewhere down the corridor.

  “I can,” Grant replied softly. “Tell me what ye wish t' say and I shall write and deliver it.”

  “How can I trust that ye'll write what I say?” Maisie asked.

  Grant came back into her direct line of sight, his hands full. He settled in the chair with a soft sigh and moved the candle so that he had room to write.

  “Ye cannae,” he said. “What do ye wish for me t' say?”

  Maisie drew her knees up to her chest, careful of her ankle. Thinking of the village priest who would have to read it for her brother, she kept the message short. “To Father and Ramsay,” she started, “I am alive and well. I hurt myself wandering and shall return as soon as I am able. Please dinnae worry.” She paused and played with the ends of her dirty hair. “Why can ye nae jus' take me home?”

  “'Tis rough terrain,” Grant replied. “'Tis too difficult t' take ye over it without risk o' furthering yer injury.” The quill scratched softly. “I will escort ye, but nae until yer healed enough for it t' be safe. Do ye understand?”

  She didn't, but there was little she could do. “Aye,” she said softly.

  “Is there naught else ye wish t' say?” Grant asked.

  “Nay,” Maisie replied.

  Grant handed her the quill and Maisie automatically made her mark at the bottom of the parchment. “Sleep now,” Grant said. “I'll be back before dawn.”

  “What?” Maisie asked. She sat up straighter as Grant stood and made to leave. “It's pitch black outside. Ye dinnae even ken where my village is!”

  “Ye smell o' a blacksmith's fire,” Grant replied. “'Tis only one village nearby with a forge. I'll return.”

  “But-” Maisie began, but Grant had already disappeared into the darkness. She huffed out a breath and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. She could not stand and explore, even if she did trust her eyes in the dark. There was little she could do but listen to Grant's order and rest. It wasn't long before her eyes began to burn. She was determined to remain awake, but soon her head began to drop and her body grew heavy.

  *****

  She woke just before dawn. The candle had burned down, but when her eyes adjusted to the dark she could see the very start of the sunrise lighting the cavern. She sat up and stretched, not an inch of her body still not sore. Still, she needed to relieve herself, and there was a mighty thirst burning in her throat. Unfortunately, the water pitcher was too far for her to reach, and there was no chamber pot in sight.
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br />   Maisie eased herself to her feet. Grant was right when he said she wouldn't be able to negotiate the terrain only being able to put her weight on one leg, but she would at least explore her surroundings while she had the chance. She lit a fresh candle and very carefully made her way to the water pitcher and basin next to it. It was slow going, and painful, but she managed, and felt far better once she had slaked her thirst and washed her face. She took care around the cut on her brow, as it was still tender to the touch. The chamber pot she found not long after and once she had taken care of her business and cleaned herself, she took her candle and moved towards the corridor leading from the room.

  She used one hand on the smooth wall to guide and support her, trying to keep as much weight off her bad ankle as she could. Had she chalk she would have made marks, but she was confident that even without a way to see where she had been she wouldn't get lost. The sound of water dripping came from somewhere to her right, but the echo made it difficult to tell its source. Maisie wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she found herself following the faint traces of sunlight she could see. The cave system seemed rather small, with only a few small rooms off the hall that were all but bare.