When Fate Dictates (28 page)

The young girl nodded, her hands trembling as
she clicked the reins.

Simon mounted his horse and slipped behind
the cart; Duncan rode on ahead of us. The cart moved, slowly at
first, and then as Eilidh clicked hard on the reins our pace became
frantic.

“Do you think someone will find him?” Eilidh
whispered.

“Let’s just pray he is dead if they do,” I
cursed under my breath.

******

A single candle burnt slowly on an ancient
table. Tiny sparks of light shone from the fire. The flicker of
light from the candle caught the polished brass of a ship’s bell
and an old woman stared blankly across the room as she rocked
gently in a chair beside the hearth. Outside the wind howled
through the trees as the rain pounded the walls of the thatched
cottage. Duncan huddled in a corner of the room. Simon lifted a jug
from the table and filled a pewter mug with ale.

“I knew you would come, my boy,” the old
woman whispered, “but tell me Simon, who is with you?”

“My wife, Corran,” Simon replied.

“Your wife? Is she a good woman to you,
Simon?”

I opened my mouth to object to her tone, but
Simon held up his hand in warning to me.

“Yes, ma, she is a good woman.”

“But you have others with you? Why do you not
tell me of them?” she inquired.

“Because ma, I need you to tell me something
first.”

“This day has been a long time in coming. But
you know, Simon, that you are not safe here?”

“I know ma. This will not take long,” he
paused, drinking hard from the jug. “I have seen Angus.”

“And now you want to understand?” she said
slowly.

“Aye, ma that I do.”

“Pass me that shawl, will you Simon? The air
is cold tonight,” the old lady said, pointing in the direction of
her bed.

Simon gently wrapped the woolen shawl over
his mother’s shoulders and bent slightly to kiss to her gently on
the forehead.

“Is that better, ma?”

The old lady nodded slowly. “Aye, that is
better. Thank you my boy.”

“Would you like a mug of ale, ma?”

“Not now, but you can pour me one before you
leave.”

“Will you tell me ma, about Angus, Duncan and
my da?”

“It was all such a long time ago now,” she
began, pulling the shawl tighter around her frail body. “Your da
was away at sea such a lot. Oh dear, Simon, I know that is no
excuse, but Angus’s mother died and Duncan was left to raise him
alone; I had no child of my own so I helped out as much as I could
with Angus. The years went by and I fell in love with Duncan. Your
da knew, but he was away such a lot, and he had his own life at
sea, so I don’t think he minded too much what I did.”

“So da knew all along that he wasn’t my
father?” Simon said his voice little more than a whisper.

“Aye, lad, he did, but we agreed that you
should not know.”

“But why? Why let me grow up believing the
wrong man was my father?”

“Because, Simon, there was no good that could
come of you, or anyone else, knowing that Duncan was your blood
father.”

“Was that because of the stag?” he asked.

“Aye, Simon, it is because of the stag.
Immortality!” she spat, her voice heavy with the bitter taste of
hate. “They call it a gift. Did you know that, Simon?”

“Aye, ma, I have heard it said.”

“Tell me? How can a gift bring so much
pain?”

“I don’t know ma... I really don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you how, Simon, when it comes with
conditions that set each generation against each other in the
pursuit of eternal life. Did you know that your da had the gift
first?”

“No ma, I didn’t.”

“Oh aye, your da called on the stag the first
time he went to sea and from that moment on, your grandfather
became mortal.”

“Then why did da die?”

“Because, Simon, Duncan had to call on the
stag and as soon as he did, your da, like your grandfather, lost
his immortality.”

“So it really does come only to the youngest
of a bloodline?”

“Yes, my boy, it does.”

“So Angus killed Duncan to claim the stag for
himself? But did Angus not know about me?”

“He had a suspicion that you were his brother
but Duncan refused to confirm it. It was me, Simon, I told him,
when he held the pistol to Duncan’s head. Can you ever forgive me
Simon?”

“Ma, I don’t blame you. But what I don’t
understand is why Angus killed Duncan? Surely the stag would have
come for him whether Duncan was dead or not?”

“You are right, Simon. Angus could have
claimed his birth right from Duncan any time he wanted. There was
no need to take his life for it.”

“So he took Duncan’s life simply because he
could?”

“Aye, he did,” she whispered softly, “but I
also think that Angus wanted to test the condition.”

“What do you mean, ma?”

“The stag can’t save you from the manner of
your first death twice. When Duncan claimed his immortality from
your da, it was because he was shot, in ‘85, when the MacDonalds
raided our cattle.”

“Tell me ma, if Angus manages to live without
need for the stag, will he age and die like any other man?”

The old lady turned her head slowly toward
Simon. “No, lad, he will not age. The man could live forever,
unless he is killed, that is.”

“Ma, there is something I must tell you.”

She smiled, softly, the wrinkles on her worn
face deepening as she did. “Aye, you must tell me who these other
people are?”

“I have Angus’s son with me,” he said,
bluntly.

“Then you are in a lot of danger, my boy,”
the old lady warned.

“No, ma, you don’t understand. The lad has
the look of his father but his ways are those of his
grandfather.”

“His ways are not your problem, Simon. His
father is. How old is this boy?”

“He is a man, ma. We found him as a baby, on
the banks of a river in York. We didn’t know who his parents were,
but we raised him as our own.”

“Has he claimed the stag?” she asked.

“Yes, ma, he has, and so have I.”

She nodded slowly, her face creased with
fear. “Then Angus will find you both.”

“Don’t worry ma, we will be fine.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No, Simon, you
won’t be fine.” With an effort far greater than any I had seen her
exert, she lifted her hand and waved it limply in the direction of
a chest of drawers. “Open the top drawer, Simon,” she ordered.

He moved swiftly toward it, doing as she had
asked. “Why, ma, what’s wrong?”

“Take the drawer out and empty it. It has a
false bottom. Remove it and you will find a wooden box.”

Simon tipped the contents of the draw onto
the ancient table. Intrigued, Duncan and I moved closer in order to
see what he was doing. He removed his dirk from its pouch and slid
it along the edge of the base. It lifted slightly in one corner.
Using the blade for leverage he raised the false bottom from the
draw. A tiny wooden box sat cushioned amongst some faded linen.

“What is it ma?” Simon asked, lifting the lid
off the box.

“It is what Angus used to find you. A
Highland Crystal.”

“A what?” I blurted.

“Hello, my dear. I take it you are Simon’s
wife.”

I clapped my hand across my mouth. “Err,
sorry.”

“Don’t be. It is nice to put a voice to the
body,” the old lady said, a smile curling at the corner of her thin
lips.

I watched in awe as Simon removed the tiny
oval crystal set in badly tarnished silver, from its box and rested
it in the palm of his hand.

“It is warm, ma.”

“Aye, my boy, it will be, for you.”

“I don’t understand. What is it for?” Simon
asked.

“It will show you what you need to see.”

There was an awkward silence as we all
watched and waited for the old lady to finish her explanation. But
when she made no further effort to talk, Simon tried again. “Ma,
what do you mean?”

“Angus has one. I don’t know where he got it
from but it is how he found you. This one was Duncan’s.”

“How did Angus use a crystal ball to find
me?” Simon said, growing agitated.

“You will learn to use it, my boy,” she
replied.

“Simon, I think your ma is tired. We should
leave her,” I whispered.

“I am blind young lady, not deaf,” the old
woman said, moving her head toward me. “But you are right, you must
leave here. This is not a safe place for you. There are many in
this village who have not forgotten that you deserted the King of
England at Glencoe. Go my boy and don’t come back.”

“But ma...”

“No, Simon, you must go from Glenlyon. Take
the crystal and remember always that I love you. Oh, and one more
thing,” she paused, “keep it in its box until you know how to use
it.”

The night was wild as we fought our way from
the cottage toward the dense forests of Glenlyon. We stopped
eventually in a clearing, where two horses waited patiently,
tethered to the trunk of an ancient tree. Simon and I mounted one
horse, and Duncan sprang onto the other. Our pace was frantic, but
guarded, as we moved swiftly east. The other two horses and wagons
were in Dundee, safely guarded by Eilidh. There was no time to
lose. Every minute we spent in the area of Simon’s home village we
risked detection and capture. His ma had been right; memories were
long. The massacre of Glencoe may have been publicly condemned, but
a deserter, no matter the reason, remained a traitor to the King
and his country. In these parts, the King of England was an ally
and a friend, second only in importance to God himself. Immortality
had its boundaries and I had no wish to see the Crown test them on
Simon.

It was late the following evening before we
finally reached the inn. Eilidh stared at us, with a long worried
look as we entered the room.

“It’s alright lass, you needn’t look so
fearful,” said Simon, heading toward the jug of ale on the
table.

“Is everything alright?” the young girl
asked, quietly.

“Yes, Eilidh, everything is fine,” I replied,
moving to give her a hug.

“Eilidh, are the horses and wagon alright?”
Duncan asked, joining his father at the table.

“Aye, Duncan, they are,” she replied.

“I am famished. Is there any food in
here?”

“No, I’m sorry, Duncan. I didn’t know when
you would be back. Would you like me to order some food from
downstairs?”

“Duncan, your stomach can wait till the
morning. I am exhausted and so is your pa. Eilidh and I will sleep
on the bed; you and your pa can make up a bed by the fire,” I said,
filling a mug with ale for myself.

The morning broke, dull and gray, the open
shutters displaying a sky heavy with the threat of snow. Soft
orange flames rose from the coals of the fire as Simon set the tiny
wooden box on top of the table.

I rubbed my forehead as a nagging fear
dragged painfully on my thoughts. Duncan and Eilidh watched in
anticipation as Simon slowly lifted the lid off the box.

The tiny oval gem sparkled brilliantly in the
gentle candlelight, its ancient mysteries straining to be
freed.

“What do you think it is, Simon?”

“It looks like an oval crystal to me.”

“Yes, I can see it’s an oval crystal. What I
meant was what, do you think is so special about it?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea, but I
wouldn’t pay too much attention to my ma.”

“That’s not very nice. Why do you say that?”
I said sharply.

“Because, Corran, she has always been one for
a good tale. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that this wee crystal
is nothing more than what it looks to be, a tiny crystal ball.”

“She seemed very sure that it was something
special though, Simon.”

“Aye, but as I said, she is one for a
mystery.”

“What do you think she meant when she said
that Angus had used one to find you?” I asked, quietly.

“I have no more idea than you, Corran. More
fanciful ideas, perhaps, I just don’t know.”

“Why are you so hard on your ma?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Corran, I love her. She
just has some strange ideas about life.”

“How do you mean, strange?”

“The things she sees and believes; they can
be dangerous.”

“Simon you are talking in riddles. Your ma
seems like a perfectly lovely lady.”

“Aye, she is a lovely lady, most of the time.
But don’t be fooled, Corran, there are many she would choose over
me, living and dead.”

“Living and dead? How could she choose a dead
person over you?”

“Because, Corran, like a witch, she believes
that she can talk to the dead.”

“That’s not so strange, Simon. My grandmother
could see things, that other people couldn’t. That didn’t make her
a witch.”

“Aye, so you have said, but to my mind that
sort of goings on are not normal.”

“And you think being shot through the heart
and living is normal?”

He shook his head grimly. “No, I don’t think
it’s normal. It’s not normal at all.”

“Shall we see if we can find out how your ma
thought Angus had used a crystal ball to find you then?”

“Well I don’t suppose it will do any harm.
Let’s have a good look at this little ball then shall we.”

“Pa, would you like me to light another
candle?” Duncan asked.

“Aye lad that would be a good idea. The light
in here is dreadful this morning.”

Eilidh turned toward the bed and retrieved
another candle, handing it to Duncan; he removed his flint from his
pocket and lit it.

“Where do you want it pa?”

“Just put it on the table next to the other
one.”

“Where do you think Angus is now?” Eilidh
asked as Simon moved his hand slowly toward the box.

“I have no idea, but I am sure he will find
us soon us enough,” Simon replied, dropping the tiny crystal into
the palm of his hand.