Chapter ten: Yule time ghosts

The next few days went by in a haze.. maybe that is the wrong words to use. To say they went by is to say they existed in the first place, which I am not overly sure they did. When the day came that I was conciouse of anything going on around me, I learned that several days had passed, which I had no recollection of at all. It was the day before yule when my conciousness finally returned to me. I became avidly aware of the many bottles that littered my floor and the sleeping mass of wiry fur at my feet. It seemed at some point, Bruce had come to keep an eye on me.

I didn't need to see my reflection to know I was a mess. Unwashed and unshaven. I had managed to stay sober for the yule celebration, which was pleasant enough. A large feast had been prepared, which the family gathered around to enjoy. A large venison roast had been prepared by mother, with the help of the older sisters. There was potatoes and other verious vegetables, and some pie for dessert.

 Gifts were exchanged by everyone. Mother has made me a new kilt in our clan hunting tartan, the colours would blend in better and wouldn't stand out as much, like our red tartan did. Father had a leather Smith craft me a set of greaves to match the rest of my armour, and had officially gifted me the basket hilt sword.

My eldest sisters had gifts for mother and father, which were accepted with great pride, i half heartedly apologized for not having any gifts for anyone, which everyone seemed okay with. Everyone but myself that is. All in all it was an enjoyable yule. We stayed up late reminiscing about old times and adventures had over the last year. I shared some of my more enjoyable memories of dagger deep, which were not many, and we all had some.good laughs. I ended the night by helping my father bring in fire wood well mother and my sisters tended to the leftovers and the dishes, after which I  joined my father for a drink and a pipe by the hearth.

He shared stories and life lessons, but he never ventured to ask me what was troubling me. No one had. And I was greatful for it. Once everyone had finally retired for the night, I returned to my cabin, Bruce at my heels. I opened another bottle and drank myself to sleep.

The liquor did wonders to keep the memories at bay, but did nothing for the nightmares. Every time I closed my eyes I was back there.. reliving every death, every fight. I would see Hawkthorn standing before the bridge, sword and shield in hand fending off an endless horde of undead. Or I would see Marcus, wondering the dark empty trails, lost looking for a way out, a way home. I could not bring myself to believe he was in paradise. Maybe the others did. Maybe they were lying to themselves to make themselves feel better, but I couldn't. I could not for a second believe a being who was so hell bent on punishing them, would let one of them to go to paradise. 

Up the hill aways from the farm, there  was a grouo of standing stones that formed an almost perfect circle. No one knows how old they are, or what there purpose was originally meant for, but for me, I always found it to be a peaceful place.

It was early morning, the fog was thick and the air was cold, I leaned against one of the many standing stones that circled around me. The rain had long since melted away the snow from the area. I sat staring off into the fog, clutching a bottle in one hand. Slowly the wind started to pick up, and the fog began to swirl around and take shape right before my eyes. Soon i found myself looking up at a familiar face.. king Willimarius.. but it wasn't him.. he had that strange line down the centure of his face.

Virgil! "You left them behind. It is all your fault. If you had done more, maybe they would still be alive" his voice cut into me painfully. I launched myself forward, in an attempted to take him down by the legs, but I passed right through him and he faded into the most, only leaving behind an echoing laugh. I jumped to my feet and drew my sword. "Fight me you coward!" I belted out into the fog. Sword in one hand, half drank bottle on the other, I stumbled around the stone circle. I felt the wind pick up again behind me. I turned in time to watch the fog take form again. This time I faced down the figure of Hawkthorn. 

His neck was cut open from when Thaos ran the blade across his throat. Blood ran freely down his neck and chest. "It should have been you" his voice echoed into the fog "You just stood there. It should have been you, you should be the one being torn apart by the undead!" My anguish got the better of me and I lashed out, my blade cut through the foggy figure of Hawkthorn who vanished like Virgil's, his voice echoed into the distance "it should have been you." I roared out into the fog "fight me Virgil! Stop hiding behind you tricks!" Again I felt the wind and again I turned to see the figure of Marcus standing before me.

"Why didn't you step up? Why did you hesitate? Why am I, a beloved and admired warrior lost for all eternity well you lavish yourself in the world of the living? You, a man no one cares for. A man with no friends, no loved ones." Again I lashed out, my sword cutting through fog as Marcus figure vanished. I dropped to my knee's the bottle shattering on the ground and my sword rolling away from me. I yelled out into the fog as anger, hatred, and anguish took over me.

I do not own any of these photos. All and full credit to the owners.

Chapter Nine: The consequences of our actions.

There it was again.. That sensation of falling..

I jumped to my feet and drew my basket hilt and dagger, ready to fight more of Virgil's monsters, but none were found. I was back at my camp, and it seemed that no time had passed at all. My sudden jump to my feet had startled the dogs, and woken my horse. I could feel the warmth of the campfire I had gotten going just before I had passed out.. before I was pulled into that horrible place.. had it all been a dream?

No, although I had not been there physically, the pain that wracked my body was real, that horrible feeling of failure ripped me to pieces on the inside. I dropped to my knees and let out a yell of frustration that echoed loudly among the snow covered tree's. I drove my fist hard into the frozen ground and continued to do so until my arm was to heavy for me to lift. Giving into my exhaustion I soon lost consciousness.
When I woke at sunrise I went about getting ready to leave, but it was all muscle memory. I was lost deep in my mind, I might as well of been back in Hades. I mounted my horse and spurred it forward, giving no command to my dogs to follow, who only did so after realizing no command was coming but i continued to venture forth. I was so out of it, and so lost in reliving what had transpired the night before, that I hadn't even noticed that I had in fact come across the cattle thieves I had forgotten I was supposed to be tracking down.

"Yoo picked the wrong camp to stumble on."
 There was five of them. They must have just gotten around to packing to move out because their tents were still pitched in a horse shoe shape around a smoldering fire. To my right, under the protection of some overhanging branches were the three cows they had made off with.

It was at the sight of the cows that I remembered the letter I had gotten from father. "Oh. Yeah." It was all I was able to muster. To be honest, I had no interest in fighting them at all. In my current state they could keep the damned cows for all I cared, but in my experience, thieves will do anything to keep their catch, even attack unprovoked.

The first attack came from my right. I parried the attack by grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the dagger ment for me and pushed it away from me, but pulled my attacker closer. I drove my head into his, I was wearing a helmet. He was not. He dropped to the ground hard, his hands clutching his nose, which bleed profusely. This spurred the others into attacking. The first man to reach me caught my hammer to the gut, which dropped him to his knees, winding him. They were not fighters by any stretch of the imagination. Probably simple folk down on their luck who needed money and had decided to steal to get it. I swung the hammer over my head and around to strick my third attacker but was blinded sided by a fourth I hadn't noticed. My hammer dropped to the ground and I found myself rolling around on the ground with my attacker, his buddies cheering him on. When we finally stopped rolling, I managed to pin the man to the ground, rasing my fist I brought it down hard into the side of the man's head. The second my fist made contact, Hawkthorns face flashed before my eyes.

I froze a moment. Over come by my anger I brought my fist down again, this time it was Marcus I saw, which drove my anger further.

Over and over again my fist made contact with the man's face. Soon I was unable to control myself. "You let them die!" I shouted as I drove my fist into the man yet again "you left them behind" again I hit him "you could have done more!" Another hit "you should have done more" two more hits "it should have been you!" The leather on my gloves tore open and soon both my knuckles and the man's face were torn open and bleeding freely. With every hit visions of Hades flashed in my mind. Even after my arm grew tired and sore I continued to hit the man, who had stopped moving. I did not even notice his two friends trying to get me off him, I drove my fist into his face, blood splattering mine. "You coward!" I hit him again, his head jerked violently "you don't deserve the life you have been given!" My voice echoed loudly through the snow blanketed forest. It was the call of my name that broke me from my anger. Turning I looked to see who had called my name. So did the other thieves. If she had not removed her hat, I would not have recognized Maisie at all. She stared at me through fearful eyes. In one hand i held the bloody pulp of a man, the other was a blood stained mess help poised to strick it's target again. I dropped the man to the ground and his friends pulled him away, all five of them mounted their horses and raced off, leaving behind the cows. I straightened myself out and marched across the camp to Maisie. For a moment I stood there, looking at her, anger still gripped me. "You shouldn't be here" i grabbed her hat from her hands forcefully "We are going home."

The two days it took us to get home were silent. Neither of us spoke. Maisie rode my horse since hers had been lost, well I led the cows on foot. We didn't stop to make camp. Maisie slept on the horse and i led them through the night. The landscape was white, covered in a thick blanket of snow, but it seemed empty and vastless to me. It held no beauty in my eyes. Everything was empty.

By the time dawn came around i could see the mountains that marked the start of our  land.

As we rounded the bend toward the farm i elbowed Maisie's foot to wake her. As we walked into the farm I noticed Maisie's horse eating by the barn. Not surprising. All our horses were trained to find their way home. I handed the reins of my horse to my mother who was practically in tears to see Maisie home safe. Then I handed the rope that I had tied to the cows, to my dad, but I didn't stop to talk. My dad had tried to start up a conversation but I pushed past him, ignoring him as he called out to me. My dogs stopped with the cows and I made my way down to the small lakeside cabin alone. I shut the door behind me and I locked it. The last thing I wanted was to be around anyone.

I do not own any of these photos. All and full credit to the owners.

Chapter Eight: 'Godless not faithless'

"So let me see if I understand you correctly.. this man you speak of, this Connor MacNessa, he claims to be the rightful laird to the MacNessa clan, with no other proof of it other than his own word, and he is raising an army to take back his clan from the MacDonald's?" The tone of his voice was unsettling, and had a way of making me feel like an idiot for even bringing this idea to him in the first place. In the back of my mind I could hear Kampi and Ajax telling me to keep calm and not to run my mouth. "I trust the man" I spoke up when I realized the laird was waiting for me to say something. "And based on that alone you think I should put an entire clan at risk? What if he is lieing to you? What if he is playing you for the fool? Let's say I agree to this and he turns out to just be a rogue highlander with a vendetta? We attack the MacDonald's, based solely on his word, and realise it to late? We start another clan war we cannot afford to have." Involuntarily I felt my head slump but immediately caught myself and stood tall again. "Clan MacDonald is one of the largest clans in the highlands. The Macpherson's could not fight them alone if a war was to start. We would need the entire of the Chattan federation for such a war, which means we would be putting more than just our clan at risk." The laird places two fingers to his right temple and rubbed it with frustration "however... There is merit to what you say. My own father used to speak to me of the MacNessa clan and how the MacDonald's overthrew it. Mind you in his story all members of the Laird's family were killed. But he did have a son of that name" the laird looked down at me from his thrown.

The Grand Hall was the largest room in the castle. All events held at the castle were held here. Breakfast, lunch, and dinners for the laird, his family, and all those who worked and lived in the castle, was had in this room. The clan gathering was held in this room. It truly was the centure of the castle and the life that went on here. Solid stone walls made up the rectangular shape of the room. On the wall to my left was a large fireplace, which burned warm and steady, the stones around it blackened from the constant fire that burned within it. To my right were a few small doors leading to various rooms in the castle, and allowed the servants to come and go during large events relatively unnoticed. A large wood balcony circled the entirety of the room, except for the far wall. That wall had no balcony. A large tapestry hung from the far wall, the family coat of arms of the MacPherson Laird's family embroidered on it in its magnificent colours of gold and blue, beneath it was the MacPherson clan crest.

 The way I understand it, the family coat of arms are what were used to separate Macpherson clan members. Like myself, there are others out their who have the MacPherson name, just as our Laird, but the laird and I share no family bond. I am sure if you went back far enough we did, but the bloodline has been cut and remade so many times that we share no relation. His family coat of arms, the cost of arms from the original MacPherson bloodline, was different than my own. On either side of the tapestry were large floor to ceiling windows, infront of all of that, inna small stone platform that ran the length of the room with a single door at either end, sat a single chair, the Laird's chair, which he currently inhabited.

"I cannot make this decision so lightly and without thought. Give me some time to consult my men and I will give you an answer when I have reached a decision." I made no attempt to argue, despite how much I wanted to, again, Kampi and Ajax in the back of my head kept me calm. I bowed before being escorted out of the room by Malcolm.

Once the door to the grand Hall was closed, I slammed my fist hard into the nearest stone wall and roared in frustration. Malcolm didn't say anything. I am sure he has seen his fair share of unhappy people leave the grand hall. I am sure he was even one of them at times. "Relax lad, the laird has a duty to protect his clan. I am sure there are times he would love to run off into the fray of battle as you do, but he needs to think about how his actions will affect those under his care." Of course Malcolm was right, and I knew this. However, this was a serious matter, to me anyways. How could I return to Arrakis and tell Connor he would gain no MacPherson aid because my laird believed him a lier? I heaved a heavy sigh "excuse me, I need a smoke and a drink" I tried to excuse myself from Malcolm "there is a court yard just down the next hall. I will meet you out there with a cup of our finest ale" with that Malcolm turned on his heel and headed for what I assumed was the kitchen. Guess I wasn't going to get rid of him that easily. Hand resting on the hilt of my broad sword I made for the hall he had directed me to.

The halls, other than their decoration and furniture, were empty, for the most part. Those I did pass paid me no heed, purhaps it was the clan tartan I wore, or maybe they were just to busy. I passed doorway after doorway without any care what might be on the otherside of the threshold. As I pulled my pipe from its pouch and filled it with tobacco, something caught my attention and I found myself taking a few steps back. The room was dark, no windows, and lit very faintly by a few candles. The room was full of benches, each side of the room lined with large stone pillars, between each pillar, a stone statue. At the far end of the table was a large stone alter, on either side of it, two large candle stands with small doors off to either side. I stepped into the room to investigate further. As I walked up the isle, i examined each stone statue, not recognizing any of them. Then I spotted it. A stone statue of a young woman, she wore a single robe, which appeared to be in the process of falling off. She held a spear in on hand and a shield in the other. All stone statues look the same to me. It is hard to capture, in my opinion, ones likeness in stone. But this face.. this statute.. I knew my goddess when I saw her.

"So it is an ancient who calls to you?" I turned to find an monk standing behind me, his plain brown robes held to him by a single rope around his middle. "You are not Caledonia?" It was the first thing I noticed. "Yes. And no. I was born here, but my parents are not from here" i gave him a look before turning back to look at the statue. "What do you mean ancient?" I asked, admiring the statue and finding comfort in its being here.

"There are many God's. How many of them are real I am unsure, but there are many. Some are old" he gestured to the Morrigan, and across the room in the corner to the statue of an old man with an eye patch, who looked oddly like the man I had bought Kampi yule gift off of, "they come from a time so long ago we have no record of it, and yet they persevered through the times and remain with us. Others" he motioned to two more, ones I did not recognize "are new. Born to life in our life time, or a life time not so long ago it is forgotten." I turned back to the statue from the monk "so this is a church?" The monk gave a soft chuckle. "I would not call it that. A church  makes it seem like only one may be worshipped. Here all may be." The idea was nice. It sat well in my mind "so which do you follow?" The monk smiled "none and all" I raised an eyebrow at him "ok lad, I am simple farmer, you canna be talking to me in riddles" the monk laughed "I believe our Laird says it best 'i am godless not faithless' I make it my job to know all I can about the gods, so that I may best suit those who come to worship here" again the idea sat well with me. "So all of these?" I motioned to the statues throughout the room "every laird has had a statue of his choosen deity constructed for the castle temple so that they may have something to worship in front of" I nodded and turned back to the Morrigan statue and smiled. At some point, at some time, a laird of the clan had followed the Morrigan, the thought of it made me swell with pride and set my mind at ease.
I thanked the monk and made to leave, but I paused when a pile of rubble caught my eye. I stopped to look at it and a familiar shape caught my eye, a hammer head, not much different than the hammer that was currently strapped to my horse. "What about this? " I pointed "what God stood there?" The monk walked over to me "ah, well that is an odd tale. For as long as I have been here, a statue stood there of a young knight. He bore a broad sword on his back and stood with a mighty hammer but I am not sure he was a god" I turned to the monk "why is that?" I asked "I have done many nights of research on the statue and the only thing I have discovered about it is that it has been here longer than anyone can remember. I believe it was a statue of either a previous laird, or someone of importance." I eyed the rubble "so you decide to break it down" the monk seemed shocked "oh heavens no. It was the strangest thing, about a day or two ago, the statue just crumbled all on its on.. i guess it's age just finally caught up to it." I gave the rubble one more uncomfortable look, and just when I thought I might get sucked into some sort of void of endless thought "the finest in Caledonia!" Malcolm's voice pulled me back. There he stood, standing in the doorway with two tankards of ale, one of which I took happily.

Malcolm and I had spent almost all day in the court yard. It was massive and several children, kids to those who lived and worked in the castle, ran around playing. Malcolm had even let me bring in the dogs, who were more than happy to play with the kids.  What seemed like a life time passed, but in all honesty, it was just passed noon when a runner came to summon us to the laird. I gave the dogs the order to come, and much to the children's dismay, they listened. When we reached the great hall I gave them the order to stay and they listened, sitting just outside the door.

"I have made a choice on this matter" A woman approached me and handed my a piece of parchment. "A treaty, promising aid to you, not to this Connor MacNessa. Should a clan member of the clan Macpherson get caught in confrontation with a member or members of clan MacDonald or any associated clans, then I, as laird, shall have no choice but to come to that man's aid. You have made your choice to support this man and I am making a choice to support you. May whatever gods you follow watch over you." I took the parchment and bowed to the laird and thanked him profusely. It had not been exactly what I wanted, but it was good enough.
I turned sharply on my heel and made to leave "one more thing" I turned back to the laird. "Take this" he waved a man over who held out to me a claymore "it is a clan weapon, used only in battle by a member of the original Macpherson bloodline. Should you need aid, this sword will be the proof you need to gain that aid." It was a beautiful piece. Unlike my own, it was longer, lighter, and did not have the leather wrapped around the blade at the hilt. "Thank you again mi'laird" the laird nodded "gods be with you. Creagh dhu!" I slammed the hilt of the sword into my chest, as a sign of respect, "Creagh dhu!" I returned the battle cry before turning to take my leave.

As I left the front gate of the castle, Malcolm called to me again. I turned to see him, in his hand he held a piece of parchment "this just showed up for you" he handed it to me and I looked down at it "I uh.. I canna read.. I don't ken how.." Malcolm laughed and opened it and read it aloud for me.

"Connor, it's dad. Your sister Maisie has snuck out of the house. Her horse is gone and the cooks say she left the house dressed as a boy. I tracked her as far as the forest of Alder, it seems she has followed after you. Please, find your sister and bring her home. Your mother and I are very worried. To add to all that, last night three of our cows were stolen by thieves, they could not have gotten far, if you can, track them down and bring our cattle home as well."

The letter ended there. "That daft girl!" I cursed Maisie under my breath "she is going to get herself killed, she does not Ken what she is getting herself into!" I took the parchment from Malcolm, gave him a hearty farewell shake and dashed for my horse. I slipped the Claymore into the same place I had the hammer and mounted my horse. I gave a swift firm command to my dogs and we all raced from the castle yard and out of the capital.


I do not own any of these photos. All and full credit to the owners.

Chapter Seven: The Capital.

I had left the forest of Alder behind me a few miles back. I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. My dogs, and my horse were all tired and ready for a good log rest. We had pushed through the night to make up lost time. I knew that the Capital was just a few hours away. Knowing full well that I wasn't going to find an inn or tavern that would accommodate me and all six of my dogs, I pulled off the road and set up camp in a small hole cut out of the side of a hill just off the path aways. I allowed my horse to graze and drink from a near by stream and the dogs took to laying in the small hole in the hillside next to the small fire I had going. We would camp here for the night and head for the capital early in the morning. Hopefully the message of my arrival made it to the capital a head of me.

The rest of the day, and night went by without incident. I spent most of my time running a sharpening stone over my sword and dagger, followed by an old cloth to clean the steel. I kept the hammer on the other side of the fire, leaning against the cave wall. Every once in awhile I would glance it's way, half expecting it to crumble into dust like its former owner, but it never did. Wrapping the rest of my tartan around me for extra warmth, I eventually let sleep take me. I woke in the morning as the sun broke through into the cave. Shivering I stepped out of the cave, pulling my tartan tighter around me. It was snowing. I smiled to myself before returning to the cave to wake the dogs and horse.
With camp all cleaned up and everything ready to go, I made myself as presentable as possible. Mounting my horse, I pulled the back of my kilt up and wrapped it around me to help against the cold, then me and my dogs set out for the capital.
We reached the capital in only a couple of hours. One of the first thing one notices when rounding the bend to the capital is the Laird's castle, raised up higher than the city around it, the Laird's castle sits on top of a hill in the centure of the city, looking out at it in all directions.

When I reached the boarders of the capital, I dismounted my horse and led it by the rains through the streets, my dogs keeping close to me as we walked the crowded cobblestone streets. Kingussie. Capital of MacPherson land and home to our Laird. It was not as big as Helm's deep or Uberland, but it was a fair enough size and was home to both MacPherson and other associated clans. The different coloured tartans made that clear enough. It wasn't long before I approached the gates of the Laird's castle, which at the moment, were open.

As I approached the gates I couldn't help but smile to myself. I love my clan. To me my family and my clan are everything. So being here, at the center of it all brought to me an overwhelming sense of pride. My eyes were instantly drawn to the large clan crest that hung above the large gates of the castle walls.

As I got closer to the gates I saw three men standing in front of them. Two stood on either side of the gate and one infront of them, talking. All three wore MacPherson tartans, the two gaurds wore them as kilts and the third man wore his wrapped around his torso like a sash. As I grew closer, the two gaurds drew their swords, similar to the one my father had given me. The third man, who wore a large claymore strapped to his back, turned to look at what might have caused the gaurds to go on edge. With a quick word and wave of his hands the two sheathed their weapons and took up attention again. 

"Are you Connor MacPherson?" The man with the claymore asked, holding out a haulting hand. Connor did as commanded, also giving the order for his dogs to stop and sit. "Aye, that is me, I take it ye go my letter?" The man nodded in acknowledgement. "Ye said you had an urgent matter to speak to the laird about?" He asked again "aye, I do, and who might ye be?" Connor asked stubbornly. "My apologies lad, my name is Malcolm MacPherson. I am the Laird's right hand man" he reached out an arm in greeting. Connor gripped his arm firmly in response. "Now what do ye need to speak to the laird about?" He asked again. Connor glared at the man in his usual manner. "My information is for the laird himself. If you wish to know what I have to say then take me to see himself." The man sighed heavily "calm down lad, it's my job to checkout those who wish to speak to the laird. He is expecting you." Connor let go of the reins of his horse and gave the dogs another command to stay "your horse and dogs will be tended to" as Connor followed Malcolm he turned to his dogs and told them to be good before fallowing the man through the castle gate.

I do not own any of these photos. All and full credit to the owners.

Chapter Six: The Young Knight

Have you ever had a dream, where you are running, or walking up or down a flight of stairs and you miss a step, or you trip? It was that sensation of falling that woke me from a dead sleep. I woke with a start and was instantly aware of three things.

One: it was dark out, which means I had been asleep awhile, it having been only early afternoon when we had stopped.

Two: all six of my dogs were on edge, their teeth bared in a snarl that rumbled deep in their chests, the hairs on their back standing up like thistles. This had me on my feet and alert instantly, my bow knocked and ready to fire.

And the third thing I noticed was that my horse was gone.

Keeping cautious and on alert, I made my way to where I had last seen my horse. The grass was crushed and the ground still warm, telling me that the horse had not wandered off or had not been taken that long ago. "Bruce, Dhòmsha." My eldest deer hound stalked over to me and sat beside me "can you find her, boy?" I asked and he set about sniffing the ground where the horse had laid. He gave a single deep bark and took off like a bolt. "Falbh!" I ordered the other dogs, who sniffed the ground where the horse had laid before following after their elder, me hot on their heels.

When I was a young bairn my mother used to tell me a story, a long time ago, in ages long since forgotten, the Vail between the world of mortals and the world of the fae was torn asunder. The tear shook both worlds violently. When the world of the fae shook pieces of it fell through the Vail, and one of those pieces was the land of Caledonia and that is why the Vail between this world and the world of the fae is so thin here. As I followed my dogs through the woods, this story played over and over again in my head. It was hard to navigate the dark woods, but I did my best, keeping up with the dogs as best I could, dodging in and out of the path of trees and bushes, jumping over logs and large boulders. 

When I finally caught up with the dogs, all six of them sat in front of a bush, waving their tails enthusiastically. I approached the bush and knelt down beside Bruce, giving him a good scratch behind the ear "good boy" I gave his back a firm pat before proceeding, as silently as I could, through the bush. When I came out the other side I found myself in a small opening in the wood, off to my right stood my horse, grazing on some grass, there was no sign of anyone else and the horse seemed fine, leaving me to believe she had wandered off on her own.

As I stepped out to approach her I paused. Off to my left something had caught my eye. What I had thought at first was just a pile of rocks, turned out to be some sort of old stone pathway, which lead up toward what looked to be an old ruined castle. I looked to my horse, then back to the castle, my dogs had followed me through the bush and waited for commands. I looked down at Bruce, who sat at my side, and I could tell he was on edge. I could hear a faint growl in his chest and the hairs on his back still stood on end. "What is it boy?" I asked looking back up at the castle ruins. I gave the rest of my dogs a look and all of them sat staring up the stone path, growling softly and their hair on end. "Bruce, come with me, the rest of you stay. Keep an eye on the horse" the other five dogs moved over to sit by the horse, who for some reason, did not seem bothered like the dogs. Bruce and I then slowly made our way up the stone path toward the ruins.

We reached the castle without any trouble, but the closer we got the more on edge Bruce became, and I was starting to see why. The air seemed thick and foreboding. It was also stale to the taste and smelt slightly off, I couldn't place it. When we reached the shattered doorway into the ruins, I signaled Bruce to stay and proceeded alone. It was a small castle, but I could tell that at some point it had been grand in appearance. Old beams from lost ceilings littered the floor with broken furniture and faded tapestries. Old candleabras hung for dear life from the stone walls by a single nail. As I proceeded further I took care where I stepped, not wanting to make noise and alert anyone... Or thing... that might be lurking within these walls. As I approached an open door at the far end of the grand opening I paused to glance up a dark stairwell. Half of me wanted to go up the stairs and another wanted me to go through the doorway. Deciding I'd go up the stairs I paused when a sound caught my attention.

Slowly I approached the door way, drawing back my arrow I rounded the corner into the other room. I had expected to find a couple bandits, maybe even a wild animal, it had never crossed my mind that I would run into what I found. Quickly i dived behind a large piece of wall that had fallen over. I held my breath for a moment, waiting to see if the creature had noticed me or not.

I had never seen anything like it. It was the size or a large bear, with front arms the size of tree trunks, and hoofed legs. Running down its back it had very wiry white hair, with eyes as equally white. It was eating something, it's jaws easily big enough to fit my whole head inside, sharp teeth protruded from both its upper and lower jaws. I let out a slow breath when I was sure I was safe. Slowly I stood up and started to slowly back away. I noticed that the animal was feasting on a cow.. of all the places for my damn horse to wander.. as I backed toward the door slowly, the sword at my side bumped the wall. As the clang rang out within the room I cursed my own stupidity!

The creature jerked its head up from its meal and gazed directly at me. I froze on the spot as I stared down his white eyed, blood stained face. The creature let out a blood chilling roar before jumping down from its perch and charging me. I raised my bow and let the arrow go. I struck the beast in the shoulder, way off my intended target, the arrow bouncing off it's thick hide, i turned and ran. I raced for the front door but some how, the creature came crashing down in front of me. I haulted, feet from the monster. Dropping my bow I drew the sword my father gave me. It felt strange to be using a single handed weapon, and one that was so light. Compared to my claymore this sword weighed nothing. "What are you!?" I hissed as I readied myself for an attack. The creature moved toward me slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Before the monster could make a move however, Bruce came bounding into the room and jumped onto the monsters back and dug his fangs deep into the monsters neck. The monster made a painful Yelp like a wounded dog might make and thrashed around madly to shake off its attacker. 

Reaching over its shoulder, the monster took hold of Bruce in one of its massive hands and tossed him across the room. I heard my old friend Yelp in pain as he crashed through an old table, shattering it to splinters. "Creagh dhu!" I sounded my battle cry as anger took hold of me. I charged the beast and plowed my shoulder hard into its side. A pain shot through my arm as if I had just plowed into a stone wall. My arm went dead and my weapon dropped from my fingers. I managed to knock the monster over but my way to the door was still blocked, and I was not about to leave without Bruce. I turned and ran for the staircase, my mind still on my old friend and the monster closing in on me.

I took the staircase two at a time, my left arm gripping my right as it hung limply at my side. What the hell was this thing made of? When I reached the top of the stairs I was met with a long hallway. Doorways lined each wall and at the far end was another stairwell.

I had no time to think. I ran from door to door. Some opened to dead end empty rooms, and others lead nowhere, their rooms having crumbled to rubbled a long time ago. As I reached the end of the hall and began my climb, the monster was just reaching the top of the first stairwell. The top of the stairwell was blocked by a thick wood door. Despite my current predicament, I noticed how the state of the door did not match the rest of the castle. It was very out of place compared to the rest of its surroundings.

At first I tried the handle, but the door wouldn't give. Cursing I kicked the door a few times before throwing my already hurt shoulder into it. Pain wracked my body as my shoulder slammed into the door over and over again, but still the door would not open. "Fine!" I spat in frustration "as long as I die inna glorious battle, who cares if it's against such a beast!" I pulled my Dirk from its sheath at my side and readied to fight the monster with my off hand with just a dagger. As I braced myself against the door a soft click sounded and the door swung open, causing me to fall backwards into the room. Before I had time to look around the monster rounded the stairwell to the top. Quickly I slammed the door shut and managed to get it locked just as the beast threw its weight into the door. Dust rained down with each blow to the door. "That won't hold long" I thought out loud as I turned to examine the room for anything that might help.

The room was empty, except for a single throne. Sitting in the throne was a statue of a knight, he wore a heavy suit of chainmail with a tabard over top embroidered with a single cross on the chest, he had long flowing hair and handsome features, he was young too, one hand rested on the arm rest of the throne, where a helmet sat perched, his other arm resting on the top of a mighty hammer, that stood at his side. On the back of the throne hung a mighty sword.

Judging by the smooth, whitish-grey colour of the stone, I figured it had to be marble. Well I was admiring the statue, the beast broke through the door, which made a loud bang as it crashes to the floor. I turned, dagger still in hand, ready to fight the beast, the beast charged, ready to kill, I brought my left fist down hard, managing to catch the monster in the eye. Pain shot up my arm, but the creature stumbled. I had never punched any living thing that felt like that. This creatures hide was hard and thick as stone. In its daze, the creature waved it's arms in a confused attack. The blow knocked me over, crashing into the statue. The blow knocked the stone hammer free, which fell to the ground and shattered, except, instead of a pile of rock at my feet, I looked down at a pile of rock dust and a hammer, not a stone hammer, but a real hammer of solid wood and metal.

Noticing the monster was still in a daze from the hit to the head, I grabbed the hammer, gripping it tight in both hands, I hefted the hammer over my head, roaring with frustration, I brought the hammer down hard on the monsters head. The monster dropped to the ground from the blow but began to rise again. Again I brought the hammer down then again, and once more. The creature lay still, it made not attempt to get back up and it's eyes remained closed. I saw no blood, or any sign of physical damage at all to the creature it was as if my blows had counted for nothing. I held the hammer over my head and wait for what seemed like a life time, when I could no longer hold the hammer up, I decide the creature wasn't going to get back up. I kissed the hammer in the excitement of victory. 

"Thanks for the help" I turned to look at the statue. To my surprise, the marble crumbled away to show a young knight of flesh and blood. His hair was long and brown, his skin clear and fair. His armour looked to be of the highest quality, and just when I thought he would open his eyes and speak, his flesh too turned to dust to leave only a skeleton sitting in armour, but those too began to crumble into dust. Made uneasy by what I had just seen, I stepped around the beast and left, taking the hammer with me.

Both my arms hurt like hell. Now that I was calm and my adrenaline was gone I couldn't lift my right arm again and I was sure that that punch had broken a knuckle or two. When I got down stairs I collected my boe and my father's sword and went to check on Bruce. As I approached where he had been tossed a bark pulled my attention to the door. In the doorway stood Bruce, his tail going crazy, happy to see his master.

As i mounted the horse and turned it to leave, I risked a glance over my shoulder. Standing in the doorway of the ruins was the young knight. He crossed an arm across his middle and gave me a respectful bow before turning to walk back into the ruins, vanishing as he did. "Let's go" I told the animals and we left the ruins behind us.

I do not own any of these photos. All and full credit to the owners.

Chapter five: The drowned lands.



Badenoch, which means Drowned land, is 540 square miles of almost entirely, of wild mountainous country, many hills exceeding 3,000 feet in height, the strath, which is a large valley, typically a river valley that is wide and shallow as opposed to a glen, which is typically narrower and deep

                

the great river Spey and the great glens, and contains with in its borders, the forests of Alder

                

Drumochter the main mountain pass between the northern and southern central Caledonian highlands, and has some of the best deer country in all of the Highlands.

            

The Capital was on the other side of the land and would take me a day or two to travel at a steady pase, however, I did not wish to be traveling out in the open, so my trip would take me through the forest of Alder, adding another day or two onto my journey.

The entry to the Forest was narrow and uneven, hard for the horse to navigate with a rider, so I was forced to dismount and lead the horse, the reins held tight in the same hand I held my bow, ready to fire if needed.
               

By the time we made it deep into the woods, and the tension had eased, for now, we took a rest by a near by stream so the dogs and horse could relax and have a drink.

                 

I sat against a tree near the water, watching as the horse lay in the long grass and the dogs entertained themselves by chasing a rabbit they had no intention of actually catching. Using the knife Ajax had gifted me, I enjoyed some of the cheese, bread and meat my mother had packed for me. Truth be told, I didn't need the knife to cut into any of the food, I just felt a little more at ease with a weapon in my had in case anything tried to jump me or the dogs.
This was a perfect hunting ground for a Kelpie, and I wasn't about to get caught up with one again.. a Kelpie is a water Fae of sorts. It takes on the form of a beautiful horse, usually white in colour, they are most known to appear before weary traveler's, but have been known to pray on all likes. The victim is put under some sort of magical trance and cannot help but mount the horse, which then drags you under the water and consumes you.. I had a run in with one before.. me and an old friend of mine.. and it's not something I am wanting to repeat any time soon.

             
The horse had fallen asleep and the dogs, tired of running after the rabbit came over and all six curled up around me. I fought it as long as I could, but with the warmth of the small fire and a full belly, the serenity of the forest slowly won over and I too drifted off to sleep.

I do not own any of these photos. All and full credit to the owners.