The Chieftain MacLeod sat at the head of the hall on a chair carved from the ash wood that hides the keep. was remarkable—hundreds of years old, if the tales were to be believed. It was carved by the first MacLeod’s who ruled this land. Along the edges ruins are carved with stars along the top - paused in time to guide a lost traveller home. Below the sky are the Munro’s, Corbett’s, Moors and Glens guiding the way. Underneath the chair, the names of the MacLeod’s and their heirs carved as a reminder to those who come next, of each tale passed down, each warning, and secrets kept safe all these years. And a map to where the great chieftains lie protecting their heirs and their secrets from the dark. 

Again, if the tales are to be believed. 

The current chieftain of the Macleod’s did not need to be seated at the dais of the hall to tower above his people, his head well above those in the room sitting upon his strong broad shoulders. His hair is a mouse brown, with streaks of copper, gold, and silver that illuminated by the flickering hearth fires. A strong sharp nose and chin, framed with a neat beard of that same light brown. Eyes of grey which were framed by dark lashes. Unlike the rest of him his eyes, though well proportioned, appeared smaller and softer than they should be. He peered through his lashes watching his people, as though looking for someone or something. A glimmer of flame lit his eyes as he looked towards the door and suddenly, it disappeared leaving behind sadness that dulled the grey. 

Four long tables line the rest of the hall, overfilled with platters of different vegetables, meats and fruits. Warm steam drifted above filling the room with rich aromas that made my mouth water. His people in groups of family and friends sit gathered around these tables lifting horned cups to their mouths while their arms energetically tell the tales of the day to those around them. Running between two of those tables are two small children’s hairs of whispering flames and three scruffy dogs following close behind. They halt suddenly at the chieftain the MacLeod looks down his nose, eyes focused on all five creatures below, “off with ya laddies go fill your bellies before your Da sees you running amuck with the besties again.”

The children nod their fiery heads “Yes Granda,” they say, and with tails between their legs, they disappear to the far table for dinner.

The tall chair to his right remains empty, carvings of thistles and heather decorate it, with ancient ruins deeply carved in its sides. The chieftain sips his drink, his right hand balanced delicately along the arm of the empty chair. He sighs as his broad shoulders lower with an invisible weight as he sips. His table is filled with his family. A brawny, tall young man, a mirror of his father with the same nose, but with deep blue eyes and flaming red hair, laughed heartily. A large smile lines his face, one eyebrow raised with a glimmer in his eyes suggesting a cheeky tale, as the table roared in laughter. 

The MacLeod’s eyes move from his son and towards the hall doorway again meeting mine. His head gave a small nod, and the right corner of his mouth twitched in the slightest smile. I nod my own head ever so slightly and walk through the middle of the hall to approach the dais. 

Though made of stone, the walls glowed in the firelight of the hearths. Shadows danced to the lively tune of a bard’s fiddle, their movements weaving in and out of the cracks in the stone.

I reached the Macleod who’s smile changes to that of amusement and concern, “Why is it that my daughter returns home late, boots lined in mud, foxtails in her hair and smelling of pine and thistles, while the other lords’ daughters are off having bairns, tending to their men and doing knitting?”

“Well, I guess those other lords didn't give their only daughters a broadsword for their tenth name days did they.”

MacLeod’s face dropped, pausing his breath for a minute then bellowed out a laugh that warmed my heart. “Aye, of cause it be my own fault would not its lassie. Come sit by me and tell me your tale, for I have nort but left the walls today and I need some adventure.”

He gestured to a servant who brought a chair placing it to his left between himself and his son. The chair to his right remained empty, but his hand touched it gently then rested on the table. Our heads close together, I began to explain my day. 

I had left the keep in search of solitude, away from the bustle of the castle and the extra noise of people preparing for the gathering. With the gathering coming in a couple of months Auntie Genovieve had been nagging me again about a marriage match. I felt it would be best if I slipped out before I attacked her with the nearest chamber pot. I had decided to walk today rather than ride, leaving with just a dagger and bow. The woods were quieter than usual, the birds still chirping and small creatures rustling in the leaves. But the wind… the wind was silent, as though it, too, was listening. The sounds of the small creaks as they ran down from the mountains masked my footsteps as I climbed the hill. When I reached the top I sat in the heather, it was beginning to turn purple, and thistles were beginning to bloom, as I watched the sun set two amber eyes met mine, old, gentle but concerned. The eyes belonged to a stag, it walked out from the pines towards me, stopping but not breaking eye contact. Its two broad antlers both had seven points each, its coat was not red but white instead, but not like milk, more like the moon with a silver liquid to it. The stag nodded its head low then turning to the west it walked back to the pines.

It had approached me as though it knew me, not concerned I could harm it. I just stared memorized into its eyes and when it bowed, I bowed my head in return.

I sat in the heather in silence until it became dark then followed the stars home. 

The MacLeod sat back in his chair, hands together and fingers as in prayer raised to his lips. He tuned his head to the empty chair beside his for a moment then towards me, his grey eyes met mine, liquid, and dancing in the fire light. 

“Well mo nighean, you say a grand white stag with seven points on each antler not only presented itself but walked up and bowed.”

“Aye Da, I ken it’s hard to believe but I swear it’s the truth.”

“Aye, Alix, I believe you but for now let’s keep this between us eh, I’ll think on this, but we may need to go visit your grandmother. Stay close mo nighean to the keep for now.”

“Da, I hear ya, you scared it’s a bad omen, but I feel it’s not a warning as such but is asking for help, the forest dinna seem right today and I’m not sure why, I cannot stay inside the keep if something is troubling it canna I?”

“Mo nighean for my sake until we speak to your grandmother stay close.” His voice was firm, conversation over. He lifted his knife and began to eat.

A warm hand covered mine with a gentle squeeze, turning my head, I met my brother he had a kind smile on his face. His deep blue eyes were dark pools in the hearth light. He was giving me a warning, not the right time or place Alix. Callum, my eldest brother, wise beyond his years had spent years training from the wisest teachers in our lands. He had a gift for languages, could read and speak most, he was also one of the few who could write in ruins and the languages of Auld. He was moreover the sibling I had spent the most time with. As my other brothers spent more time on Skye, Cullum had been here at Caisteal Moar learning from Da his responsibilities as heir. He had taken it upon himself to be my tutor and had a way of seeing through me, of understanding and showing kindness when I had needed it most.

From where I sat at dinner, I could see the fire in the hearth, the flames slowly flicked in a memorizing dance, around me the hall slowly emptied leaving all but those too drunk to walk or those having a moment in thought. The MacLeod sat in his chair silently swirling his whisky deep in thought. He didn’t notice as I stood, bowing my head, and left. As I reached the doors, I turned to see a tear roll down his face, his hand griping the empty chair beside him. The door’s iron handle was chilled like ice, stinging as I turned it, I walked through the door and up to my chambers hoping the servants had warmed my bed.

***

The castle was alive with all the servants preparing for the gathering. Soon, members of the MacLeod clan would be arriving to pledge allegiance to the MacLeod. It had been ten years since the last and for those who never venture far from the keep it was an exciting time to meet other folk, pass on tales and much to the delight of my Aunt and the other ladies in the keep, marriage opportunities and match making. For this reason, I wanted to spend as minimal time as I could inside the keep where I could not be found. Not long after dawn, I strode into the kitchens to break my fast, hoping that fresh porridge and berries were ready.

“Ah, Lady Alix, eating down here again you must be avoiding the Lady Genovieve?”

Ms Mac had been running the keep for longer than the twenty-five years I had been alive. A short round woman, with frizzy head of hair, dull brown eyes, and the ability to make any problems go away with a bowl of warm broth and cakes if all else failed. Ms Mac knew the ins and outs of the keep, and an extremely helpful ally in avoiding my Aunties plans. 

“Aye, I cannot wait until this gathering is over and she’s off my back, why she cannot meddle with someone else I do not know.” 

“Well, my dear, she only wants what’s best for you, especially with all her daughters being married with bairns, your eldest brother too, and Marcus bless his heart still thinks his a young lad I can’t see him being ready for a wife just yet…you on the other hand think she’s worrit you’ll soon be stuck with no husband or bairns and be tending to your father in his old age or worse in the kitchens with us”.

Her kind eyes gave me a gentle smile and she softly pattered my cheek, “now lass let’s get you a nice hot cup of tea and after do you think you could go to the stables, I hear Auld Macs not to well, coughing all night keeping the stable boys and the horses awake”. 

“Aye, of course I can, I’ll grab my pack and head out soon” I said. “But if you see Aunt Genevieve don’t tell her you’ve seen me aye.” 

Ms Mac gave me one of her big smiles, reaching out touching my checks “you remind me so much of your father when he was young, lass, but it was your mother who always had a thistle or two in her hair.”

Ms Mac turned to grab the boiling cauldron, her skirts twisting, as she walked towards the hearth. The other maids busy kneading bread I watched thinking of the safe knowledge that whatever might be happening the castles kitchens would not change, nothing here had changed since before my grandparents were bairns and the previous Ms Mac was in charge. 

I left the kitchens grabbing my small pack and slid through the back doors making my way to the stables. The sun had risen, and the keep was beginning to wake, noises of the animals, servants rushing around, the stream crackling as it flowed its fresh water in and round the front tower. I could smell the oak of the trees coming in on the mist and the homely smell of the hay and I approached the stables. 

Auld Mac had spent his whole life in these stables, breading and raising fine horses for the laird and the laird before. No matter his age he was always the first to wake, cleaning the stables, freshen up the hay, and nicking an apple from the tree to treat his loved old mare. Auld Mac was tall and strong even with his hands frozen and bend inwards from years of riding horses. On cold nights I knew it pained him, but he was always reluctant to tell me hence not to be a nuisance. I could hear his coughing before I saw him, leaning against the fence softly speaking in the old language a tale to his mare. 

“I ken their lass” his soft voice reached me. 

I brought out an apple from my pack and gave it to Merideth. She nuzzled me and took the gesture. 

“I should have expected my sister to send you up sooner than later Lady Alix.” His hand was brushing Merideth’s fringe. He turned his head to look at me “I’m fine lass. Not be a wee cough.”

“Have you been putting the herbs into your pipe like I told ya, it will help you ken with your breathing?” 

I smiled and followed him into the small room of side the stable. His face was flushed and felt on fire.

“As it does fine but …. Well, I donna means to trouble you lass but you see, I had them in my pocket and well the new foul took the lot.” 

Old Mac’s face filled with shame and embarrassment. 

“Oh, Mac you should have said it’s not trouble to bring you more, here let’s fill your pipe and wheel make a wee Brew to warm your throat.” 

***

I left the stables mid-morning keen to sneak past the main gates and through the keep walls. As I reached the wall a body dropped down in front of me dark hair flowing down on impact. Taken a back a moment I almost fell before strong hands grabbed me. 

“And here I was thinking you might actually listen to Da and stay inside the keep.”

“I do not ken what you are talking about Marcus” I said. 

I pushed past him making my way over to the strong oak tree between the wall and the stream. Griping the trunk and upper branch I was able to pull myself up. Climbing around until I got to the branches above the wall. With a wink to my brother, I balanced myself on the narrow branch. I walked across it with the grace of a cat- my feet sure, my body taut with the familiar thrill of danger. Without hesitation, I leapt from the branch, landing softly in a crouch. I straightened with a grin, feeling the rush of freedom already. Turning over my shoulder I could see Marcus also climbing and leaping out, landing further along than I did. I did not stop my pace but continued onwards towards the woods. After walking in silence for an hour or so we reached a saint’s pool, I stopped and took a drink. 

“Alix, are you going to tell me at what you are playing? Da does not want you out here and here you are walking through the woods no weapons and by yourself, are you daft?” I could feel Marcus eyes glowing at my back, he was pissed, and it was more because he was not told why. 

“I’m not out here with no weapons ya Nonie, I’ve got my Sgian Dubh hidden in my coat and my dirk, plus I’m not alone your here.”

Marcus gave a loud snort and rolled his eyes. 

“Right then, what is it I’m here to protect you from” he said. 

“Oh, the usual, giants, rouge clansman and witches most likely” 

“Did Mrs Mac at least give you some food in that pack of yours I’m famished” as he spoke his stomach answered. 

“Aye, she must have known you’d follow she’s packed your favourite tart.” 

We sat by the pool eating a blackberry tart and drinking ale, the birds around us were singing and the trees whispered between them. Marcus was stretched out on the grass, enjoying the sunlight that peaked through the canopy. Though we look like strangers—him dark as night, me pale as day—Marcus and I share something no one else does. We’ve always been two halves of a whole. He understands me in a way no one else can. It’s in the way he looks at me, the way he speaks without words. He doesn’t need to say a thing for me to know what he’s thinking. When I climb a tree, he follows without hesitation, like we’ve done it a hundred times before, even though we’ve only just discovered this escape route. I know his thoughts as clearly as I know my own—he worries, he’s angry, but he’ll never let me see it. He’d sooner die than let me face anything alone, even though all I want is for him to leave me be sometimes.

My hair falls in flowing waves, like my father’s, it’s the colour of autumn leaves- a light brown that reveals streaks of gold, silver and copper in the sun. He tells me when the light hits just right, the strands shimmer like the flicker of flames, echoing the untamed spirit of my mother.  

Marcus is everything I am not. His skin is the colour of the earth after a summer storm, golden and warm, as if he has been kissed by the sun at birth. His hair dark, like nightfall and his indigo eyes are as deep as the midnight sea. There is a weight to them, a depth and grounding that I envy. My eyes are silver- cold, pale, almost unnatural, like the sky before dawn. I have noticed the way strangers look at me when they catch my gaze, even some in the castle avoid it. They are hesitant, as if unsure whether they’re looking at something too strange, too unnatural. We were born under the moonless night, and sometimes I wonder if these eyes are a mark of that strange birth, a sign of the things I’m tied to but can’t quite understand. Where my eyes are silver and strange, his are full of certainty, as if they’ve already seen everything the world has to offer.

Most of the folk were fine usually until they got a look of our eyes, gifts from the fairies or the devil himself. When we were babes, one of the maids, believing us to be changelings, left us beneath a fairy hill. Auld Mac found us in the dead of the night before any harm had come to us. The maid who had abandoned us… well, she disappeared shortly after. Some say the fairies took her as punishment, but none of the adults ever spoke of it much. It’s just one of those strange things we don’t talk about—like our eyes. No one ever really explains them, but they all notice them. Some call them a gift from the fairies. Others, a curse. I sometimes wonder if they’re a mark of something I can’t yet understand... something dangerous. Something tied to the darkness of that night.

I told Marcus of the white stag as we lay there. He turned to me his head tilted slightly to the right as he was thinking. 

“Were you up past the heather meadows and the top cleft - the spot mother used to take us?”

“Aye I was” not realising it at the time. A spot I often went to think and enjoy the peace a magical spot we called it. Where although surrounded by hundreds of creatures you felt completely alone, safe and at peace. 

“Strange that, I was up there a week past, late in the evening when I came home from the islands, I camped the night. I woke looking out across the meadow and saw a giant wolf, amber eyes, and coat of purest silver, I could have sworn he was trying to tell me something.” 

“Did you tell Da?”

Marcus was silent, “mo phiuthair ghaoil only you.” No, my sister, only you.

“What does this mean? Da did not want me coming back here until we saw grannie, he looks afraid.”

“That Alix is what makes me afraid, come now let’s go back before they notice your missing well Aunt Genevieve does.” A wide grin spread across his face.

I let out a loud snort then threw my cup at his head. Marcus jumped up and laughed curtsying as he left of. I followed behind curiously looking around for any sign of the wee folk as we walked. We strode through the clearing reaching the keep walls, in a hidden crevice we found our rope Marcus through it up into the oak tree looping it round in tension. I griped my boots into the wall and began to climb, Marcus following behind. As my hands reached the top, I pulled myself up only to come face to face with grey eyes. Beira, we were in trouble. 

The Macleod stuck his head over the wall making eye contact with Marcus. We were caught, both of us frozen, my heart skips a beat. There’s a moment when I look at Marcus, and it’s like we’re speaking without words—his eyes locked on mine, and suddenly, I know he’s as much in trouble as I am. I can see the uncertainty in his face. He’s not sure what to do next. Should he run or stay? Should he keep me from whatever comes next, or let me face it on my own? So much for the secret rout out the keep walls. As though he read my mind the Macleod looked down his long nose at us both “aye you forget I also escaped the keep one time or another, who’d you think hid tha rope” and he backhanded Marcus over his head. “You clot.” 

The Macleod lifted himself up into the oak then dropped down into the grounds. Marcus gave me a push to go first, I turned to give him a look letting him know who’s fault this was getting caught as clearly, I would not be reckless enough to let Da know we knew this spot. The Macleod bellowed up “if you two clotheads don’t come down now you can stay up there and miss your supper, and I’ll send Aunt Genevieve up to get you.”

At that moment we both jumped into the tree pushing each other and landed tumbled in a pile on the ground right at the MacLeods feet. 

“Lady Alix is that you? that is no way for a lady to behave!” A loud female voice bellowed across the grounds, no please no. “Alastair Collum Brian Fitzpatrick Macleod, how dare you let your daughter run around like one of the stable lads, rough housing with her brothers, climbing trees, wearing breaks, it’s bad enough you got her that broadsword then arrows, she’s as wild as anything , here I am trying to find a suitable match and how can I do that with her looking like a cat-fiadhairch, wild cat, Alastair? Brathair, brother, you expect me to work miracles - and you two” Aunt Genevieve and her flying skirts had reach us, the three of us frozen still hoping she devil might not see us. 

I could feel the heat of her glare on my back. She’s never been shy about her plans for me, it feels like there’s no escape. I try to hide behind my father’s, but it’s no use. Aunt Genevieve is relentless.

“You two move it, Alix wash now, Marcus you look like you have not washed in weeks. Go, Alastair”

“Aye sister I’m going to wash too.”

“I’m not too proud to grab your bullock’s laird or not if you roll yon eyes at me again lad.” 

I shoved Marcus over and fled, Da was laughing as he ran. Auntie Genovieve’s voice carried through the open grounds “Alexandria you get right upstairs I expect to find you looking like a lady tonight or I’ll tie you up and marry you of too auld laird Fraser son.” And with that threat I was gone, round the corner and into the castle. Da next to me laughing, he stuck his head out to see Aunt Genevieve giving some horrid talking to Marcus, who looked like his gizzards where being twisted. We looked at each other and sunk onto the floor laughing. 

“Oh, Alix mo nighean, it has been some time since I have seen my sister that angry or laughed that hard. Poor Marcus, I should rescue him but… her face, she does not listen to a word anyone says, stubborn fiend” he continued to laugh tears running down his face. It had been a long time since I had seen his laugh like that. I could hear boots approaching us, Ms Mac came round the corner stopping as she saw us. 

“Well, that explains the noise I heard, I should have thought himself had stopped stirring his sister by now, thought you’d have learned your lesson the last time when she put the wee froggies in your bed” Da’s face paled to a sheet of white as he remembered, I fell back on the ground laughing hands on my belly. 

“Now get up the two of you and scally, Lady Genevieve is making her way here dragging young Marcus behind her ''. Wasting no time, we jumped up and split up the dividing staircases to our chambers. Ms Mac shaking her head as I turned to her with a smile. She walked about throwing a block of lye soap at Marcus who was about to be tortured by the Lady Genevieve MacLeod. 

***

Reluctant as I was to be dressed as a prised mare, the dinner prepared by Ms Mac was delicious, a grand feast of potatoes, pheasant, venison, and trout. My Aunt had invited guests from a nearby clan to visit, three sons in tow each bragging about the strength and girth they processed. My Aunt's foot pressed down on mine as she recognised my facial expression and the remarks that may or may not have come to mind. Instead with the gentle reminder of her large and heavy foot I answered with delicate smiles perfectly respectful of a lairds daughter. Looking down the table I saw Marcus, face scrunched up and miserable being seated between two ladies who also were this prominent lairds' daughters, easily recognized by their matching pinched noses of their mother.

My eldest brother Callum sat next to our Aunt. He was happily married with bairns, having a wonderful dinner and could not help but ask intriguing questions from our guest of life at their dull castle and their fond interest in pig breeding.

“So, what do you think, Alix? I can’t say I’m not curious about the finer details of pig breeding” Callum politely asked while putting his cup down on the table.

“I’d rather cook them” I muttered under my breath, Callum clearly heard and cleared his throat. Aunt Genevieve’s eyes narrowed at me, her fingers tightening around her fork, as if ready to strike down any further insolence.

“Oh yes, quite interesting” I turned my attention to our guest with a courtly smile.

“Would you say, Alix,” Callum asked, noticing my discomfort, “that you know a thing or two about pigs? I’m sure your knowledge of their... culinary uses is vast?”

I bit back a groan. My reply came out sharper than intended: “I’m far more adept at cooking them than breeding them, Callum.”

Aunt Genevieve’s foot nudged mine again, harder this time. I held my tongue. One of the neighbouring laird’s sons, a tall, broad-faced boy with an air of self-importance, leaned in with a smirk. “Aye, well, some womenfolk are better with the cooking than the... breeding. We know our place, don’t we, Miss MacLeod?”

My hand tightened around my wine goblet, but before I could respond, Aunt Genevieve’s sharp look had me swallowing my words.

Having provided more than enough entertainment for my brother, I excused myself. “I’ve forgotten my wrap,” I said, already standing. But Aunt Genevieve caught my eye, her hand raised in silent command. A servant was summoned, and my escape was blocked. I could only bow my head in defeat, knowing that my escape would be delayed for just a few more moments.

At some point of the excruciating dinner my father apologized that my brother Callum would instead take Hector and his sons on a ride tomorrow as both Alexandria and Marcus had to leave at first light to visit their grandmother on the isles and due to the impending seasons must not be delaying their travels. I met his eyes and nodded, taking this as an excuse to leave I bowed to my father, Aunt and guests and slowly left the hall. Marcus also having excused himself met me in the corridor. 

“Well, I guess its decided then we apparently leave at first light, no doubt we are the last to know” Marcus said.

“I would give my right arm to be rid of those pig farmers.”

Chuckling Marcus gave a taunting bow and said goodnight. 

Knowing Ms Mac would have already packed my bags, I decided I would go for a walk. Reaching the inner yard I gave a low smooth whistle, answered soon after with the pudding of feet and the big brown eyes of my treasured dog Cody arrived. Her soft coat becoming darker with the impending winter was warm beneath my fingers and I gave her a pat. We walked the keep grounds following the flowing freshwater stream that flowed from the mountain rivers through the river rocks, under the torrent bridge the out and under into the sea. At the other end of the keep another small stream flowed inwards from the sea into a small pool when fish and small sea crabs were kept. The keep surrounded the castle and many of the villager crofts, most who served in the castle and often ate their meals inside others opted to cook by their hearths. Sometimes I would be invited to eat with them in their homes often after seeing to sickness, no money to pay they would offer small kindnesses, a meal, herbs, a bunch of flowers or small items of homespun. The villagers were always thankful to see a healer, and as reluctant as I was to take any form of payment their pride and thus whatever small tokens given, were received with gratitude. 

The MacLeod family was widely known for its healers for generations, as barns our Da began to teach us, just as we learnt how to use our broadswords and shoot arrows all of us, were taught to defend ourselves and others and this involved learning to heal our people. Stories of the MacLeod healers were told around the fire hearths of the villages and castle folk alike. Another tale told was of the fairy princess the laird had married who taught him the skills of a great healing, these skills were passed on through each generation blessing and protecting all those in their lands. What magic they thought we did I do not know but the old ways of healing were taught to us and had become as part of us and our swords. 

Aunt Genevieve also had those healers’ hands and often delivered the babies in the castle’s grounds. When I was ten, she took me to a small village close by, a terrified young man flew through the keep gates desperate for help his wife was in childbed he thought she might die. Aunt Genevieve woke me to accompany her, and we rode like the devil until we reached the small croft. A long night and day she taught me the skills to safely bring the babe into our world, how must clean also not forget the mother after the arrival of the babe, then once all settled to teach the mother how to feed and look after it. She taught me the herbs for women and women’s business. She always had her sword attached to her mare and her dirk on her belt - I had never seen her use it, but auld Mac would tell us stories of Aunt Genevieve defending the village from raiders when my grandfather had been at war. She alone was left to protect and defend keep while the men left for war, and that she did.

When I turned sixteen, she gave me my healers bag, she had made the basket through weaving an old method passed down through our ancestors in the isles. Inside had small chambers and pockets for herbs, tools, or bandages each carefully thought out with some chambers larger than others or closer in reach for urgency. Grandmother and Da taught me other healing knowledge, Da was especially good at what he called war skills, aid required immediately in a battle that could save lives but allow the healer to rapidly heal between people without spending too much time on one thing. I knew he was a great warrior but during the last war he spend most of it healing others, his brother Brian led the clan to battle, and Alastair battled the wounds and injuries of the men. My grandfather was the laird and commanded men from all clans disputing their skills through the war. Grandmother commanded the hearths with some of the wives making sure the men were sufficiently fed. they also provided the clean bandages for Alastair’s army of healers. The war was won but still the battle of the healers continued. 

Da seldom speaks of that war but songs and tales of the healer MacLeod are told throughout Caledonia. One song my Da will speak of is the likeness captured in one of a fairy warrior who with her flaming hair provided aid to the men, holding their hands at the last breath and riding into the battle to retrieve the wounded onto the stretcher attached to her horse. The song sings of her bravery bringing those men to the tent for aid, no man would follow her, but she continued, hundreds saved from both sides by the flaming red hair and blue-eyed fairy on the white horse. 

I could hear a fiddle playing in one of the cottages, an old song about the kelpies. An icy breeze hit me, and we continued to walk. Up and round the eastern torrent we sat on the edge of the viewpoint. From here I could see the keep, the courts, grounds, stables, the gate, and the path through the woods. 

“Mo nighean” A whisper

“Aye Da”

“I canna ride with you tomorrow it will be just you and Marcus. I need yas to travel swiftly to Dunscaith to your uncle Brian. I have sent word with a message of your arrival, your grandmother has much to teach you, and it is important that you learn.”

“What is it that I must learn that causing this hast?” I questioned. 

“Change lass, a momentous change is coming. I have not felt the woods unsettled like this since before the last war. I do not ken what exactly but …” he looked around then sat next to me, his long legs hanging over the turret wall. 

“The wee folk are stirring; the stag and the wolf are the Auld gods’ warnings. There are secrets and knowledge of our family you both must learn. Grandmother will show you and teach you their ways…I must stay I cannot leave yon Callum and Genovieve to defend the castle themselves... it. it may come to nothing, but I would rather be prepared and not worrit, then put it all on your brother.”

His voice was steady, soft, and a whisper. He stared out beyond the woods. 

“Stay by your brother lass, you will need each other.” 

I grabbed his hand and leaned my head against his shoulder. We stayed until the moon rose. Then I left leaving him with Cody watching it set late into the night.