The Condemned Highlander by Donna Fletcher

1

Someone was following Annis. She had been aware of it for a while now. Not only had she heard the footfalls, but she had sensed someone. There could be any number of reasons someone followed her, the most worrisome being that someone meant her harm.

Annis shifted the narrow bundle on her back with a lift of the single strap that crossed her chest and ran over her shoulder. Once done, she hoisted her garments just enough so she could run unimpeded if necessary.

It had been over a week since she left Clan Loudon to start her quest. She had taken precautions on the route she traveled to avoid the warriors Chieftain Emory was bound to send in search of her. She had no intentions of allowing anyone to interfere with her plans. She intended to be successful. She had no choice, her sister’s life depended on it.

She heard the rustle of leaves not far behind her. The harvest season certainly could produce a good wind now and again but not even a light breeze stirred the air today. She had two choices, keep walking, and wait to see the person’s intentions, or she could run to put distance between whoever followed behind her. Or did she dare…

Annis stopped abruptly, spun around, and ordered, “Show yourself, you coward!”

Her hand went to the hilt of the dagger secured in a sheath at her waist and her glance remained steady on her surroundings. A small tingle of fear ran through her, but she had learned through her own misadventures that a touch of fear proved useful. It kept one alert, and that alertness caught a movement through the branches of a large, gnarled pine tree. The branches had grown strangely, giving the tree a beastly appearance and for a moment, Annis worried what it might spit out.

Annis’s hand fell away from the dagger as soon as the woman stepped from behind the tree. Her long, braided, white hair suggested she was a woman of older years, but her face held few lines and wrinkles, and though she was tall, she had no stoop to her shoulders. It was the sight of her well-worn, blackthorn walking stick that poked a memory.

“Cumina?”

She didn’t know the woman well, having only gone a couple of times with her sister Bliss when she sought Cumina’s knowledge. A knowledge that was often sought in secret since many believed her a witch.

“Aye, it is me,” Cumina said, her steps soft and graceful as she approached Annis. “I didn’t mean to alarm you, but when I heard you left on a quest, I had to speak with you. I waited until you completely avoided the men following you so that we could talk without worry.”

Annis spotted a fallen tree and pointed to it. “A short respite would do me good.”

Cumina sat along with Annis. “You are much different from your two sisters, Bliss and Elysia.”

“Aye, so I’ve been told many times,” Annis said with a smile. “My two sisters are kind and sweet where I have a blunt nature, my all too often unfettered words proving it true.”

“You have a free, spirited nature.” Cumina smiled. “As bold and full of fire as your untamed, flaming red hair.”

Annis grinned as she tugged at a strand of the massive red ringlets that sprang from her head. “Untamed, unruly, does as it will—” she laughed. “It does sound like me.”

“Be proud of who you are. Not many have such abundant courage,” Cumina said. “I know Bliss is very proud of you.”

“Bliss is far braver than me, sacrificing herself and marrying the worst cursed lord of the three so that I wasn’t forced to wed one of them and making sure Elysia wasn’t forced to wed. But Bliss will not survive long if I do not succeed in my quest. The third and last wife of Lord Rannick of the Clan MacClaren, before Bliss, died when she first laid eyes upon him. I pray Bliss will survive long enough for me to help her. Can you tell me anything about this curse that has condemned three men to suffer such hellish lives?” Annis asked anxiously.

“I will tell you what I told Bliss. The most powerful curse there is—is a death curse. When a person uses their last breath to curse someone, it releases tremendous power. Most times the curse is made because of a wrong that was done to someone and the only way to end the curse is to right that wrong.”

Annis nodded. “That is something I have heard over and over again.”

“What you haven’t heard, and many don’t understand, about the curse is that it was not cast with a hateful heart. It was cast with a loving heart and meant to protect and keep safe an innocent bairn. When the king ordered the complete destruction of the Clan MacWilliam, the barely two-day-old bairn had no chance to survive. Her mother, Lady Aila, used the only thing left to protect her daughter.”

“A curse that has condemned my sister to a certain death, unless I can see it broken,” Annis said, growing misty-eyed, something she did far too often. It was a trait that annoyed her and one she fought to contain. Though, Bliss had insisted it meant she had a kind heart.

“The very reason I came in search of you. This quest you take is fraught with perils. The most dangerous one of all—making contact with the witch in the hills. She is no myth. She is real and she is powerful. I warned Bliss that she demands a price for her magic.”

“I will pay whatever she wants to see Bliss safe,” Annis said without hesitation.

“Nay, you will not, for she will take far too much from you,” Cumina warned. “Listen when she speaks and be wise, not quick with your responses. Watch for you see more clearly than most and be mindful of what your eyes tell you.”

“I appreciate your guidance,” Annis said.

“You are a brave soul, Annis, and you will need all of that courage for this quest.”

“It is Bliss who is brave, not me, and I will not fail her.”

“I don’t possess the far sight that some wise women do. I only know that this quest will go far different than you expect,” Cumina cautioned.

Annis was quick to ask, “Can you see if Bliss survives her forced marriage to Lord Rannick?”

“I see nothing but distress at the moment, but that would seem reasonable given her current situation. The witch you seek can tell you much more, but again I warn you she extracts a steep price for her knowledge.”

Annis hurried to her feet, having lingered long enough. “I am good at bargaining.”

Cumina stood. “And the witch has superior powers. Be careful, Annis, and do not let your tongue rule when you meet her.”

Annis tucked the advice away to use when needed as she continued on her way. She had no doubt this would prove a challenging task, but it was also a necessary one since it had been her fault that Bliss had sacrificed herself.

She shook her head annoyed at the memories of how careless she had been when speaking with Lord Brogan. It hadn’t helped upon meeting him that she had fainted from the blood on his face. Too often misty-eyes weren’t the only weakness she had—the sight of blood was the other. An abundance of blood. A small smattering didn’t affect her, but a large amount—she stopped, feeling lightheaded from just the thought of it. Or maybe it was the memory of seeing the blood on Brogan. Her sister Bliss, the clan healer, had been called to the keep to tend him and she had also been ordered to bring one of her sisters with her.

Bliss had warned her to hold her tongue, draw no attention to herself. Two men had recently arrived at Clan Loudon in their search to find women to wed the three cursed lords, Lord Rannick being the most feared of the three men. He had lost three wives in six years. No woman survived a marriage to him.

Unfortunately, Brogan had enjoyed sparring verbally with her. That soon became apparent to the two men, Lawler and Cadell, who after an extensive search and rejection from clans fearful of being involved in any way with the cursed lords, had to turn to the peasants to find wives. It became apparent that Brogan favored someone—Annis.

She stopped, her hand going to her lips, recalling his kiss. It had been unexpected and more enjoyable than expected. Though, not the words that followed.

See what you’ll miss.

She shook her head to rid herself of his voice as she continued to walk. “Fool. Fool,” she mumbled, though wasn’t sure if it was Brogan or herself who she called the fool.

He had been quite adamant that her quest would fail just as his search had failed when he went looking for the witch of the hills. That he had dismissed her quest as useless made her even more determined to prove him wrong.

It had upset Annis to leave her sister Elysia all on her own. She worried what might befall her since she was too sweet and kind. Her only solace was that Elysia would seek a marriage with Saber, a farmer on an outlying croft. It had been obvious that they favored each other and with Saber being a sizeable man, her sister would be safe. Elysia had agreed and Annis hoped that they had wed or would soon wed, or else she would worry for her as she did for Bliss.

Annis kept a steady pace, determined to cover a far stretch today. The hills where the witch supposedly lived was another day or two away, though she had her doubts about the hills being the correct location and the reason no one had found her there. Had others been misdirected on purpose? Was the witch’s true location someplace entirely different?

There was a village not far ahead or so she had heard from the men in her clan. Duff, the builder in the clan, had allowed her to tag along with him when different structures were being built. Her interests differed greatly from most women. Elysia loved to stitch and had a talent for it. Annis, however, had been bored to death and stabbed herself with the needle so many times that Bliss would not let her attempt it again. She was more interested in the construction of the bone needle and had fashioned different shapes and sizes for Elysia. Womanly chores held no appeal to Annis.

The building of things, however, did hold interest to her. A strong interest. She had started young constructing things out of sticks and rocks and whatever else she felt might work. Duff had been amazed at her skill. Unfortunately, things did not go well the day he left her to guide a group of men in the building of a stone shed. She had handled it poorly, making fools of the men instead of stroking their fragile egos. Duff refused to let her tag along with him after that. It was around the same time Lawler and Cadell had arrived and life for her and her sisters had fallen apart.

There was a tale more disputed than believed about someone in the village she sought who had survived an encounter with the witch. Some claimed he told nothing but a wild tale for the attention it brought him while others shivered at the telling of it. She hoped to find the man and judge for herself. It was worth a try, or she would be searching every hill around.

Annis hastened her pace to outrun the gray skies darkening in the distance behind her. She took a chance traveling on her own, no man to protect her. But it was better she did. She had no one to order her about or disagree with her. Any mistakes she made were of her own doing and was a good reason to avoid making mistakes in the first place.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours later as she climbed a small rise that she wondered if the village the men had whispered about actually existed. Then she topped the rise and smiled.

Down below nestled in a small valley sat a village. She let her eyes roam over the few cottages and buildings of various sizes. She saw no indication of allegiance to any particular clan, but then many outlying villages appeared neutral, a good way to gather information to help protect their clan. Annis squared her shoulders and proceeded down the hill.

Though small as villages go, it appeared well kept. The men and women busy with tasks or engaged in conversation eyed her skeptically as she made her way slowly through the village. She had expected someone to approach her, a stranger in their midst, to inquire about her presence, but none did. They kept their distance.

Finally, she spotted an older woman sitting outside her cottage at a small table fashioning a sizeable splinter off a fresh bone into a needle. A common interest always helped to start a conversation with a stranger.

“I can help you with that,” Annis said when she reached the woman.

“How do I know you don’t mean to steal my needles?” the woman accused.

Annis chuckled. “I hate to sew. I haven’t got a lick of talent for it, but I do enjoy making the needles for my sister, who is talented with stitches.”

“Show me,” the woman said, pointing to the needle she was working on.

Annis looked over the stones on the small table used to shape the bone, chose one, and got busy.

The woman watched with interest and her eyes brightened, seeing how skilled Annis was at the task. “Can you do more than one for me?”

“I can get a few done for you,” Annis offered.

“What do you want in exchange?” the woman asked, her eyes skeptical once again.

“Some information and a warm place to stay for the night.”

“What kind of information?” the woman asked, a bit uncertain.

“I heard that a man who supposedly had an encounter with the witch in the hills resides here and I’d like to speak with him.”

The old woman grew cautious. “Why do you want to do that?”

Annis was blunt and honest. “To save my sister, Bliss, who was forced to wed Lord Rannick, one of the cursed lords.”

The old woman’s mouth dropped open briefly, then a smile broke out across her face and tears gathered in her eyes. “Bless your sister Bliss, bless her. We were told that men would be coming here to find wives for the cursed lords and feared one or more of our women would be chosen and with our village part of Clan MacRae, home to Lord Brogan, we would have little choice but to surrender any woman chosen. We were so relieved to learn that a woman had unselfishly offered herself to the cursed lord and that the search for wives for the other two cursed lords had been halted. You are most welcome here.”

“Annis, my name is Annis,” she said, pleased she’d be welcome for the night and surprised that the village was part of Brogan’s clan. Surely, he would have spoken to the man with the tale about the witch. And why had searches for the other two cursed lords been halted?

“Garda,” the woman said, patting her chest, then with a quick wave signaled other women to hurry over. “This is Annis, sister to Bliss, the woman who wed Lord Rannick.”

The women spoke over each other offering their appreciation, and blessing Annis and Bliss, and all offering her shelter and food for the night, though Garda dismissed their offers.

“Annis will stay with me,” Garda said, and no one argued with her.

“What a skilled hand you have with making needles,” one woman said.

“It’s the way you use the stone,” Annis said. “Here, let me show you.”

Annis was eager to ask again about the man she searched for, but she knew if she spent some time with the women, they would be more likely to tell her what she wanted to know without probing. Besides, she did enjoy showing the women how to make hardy-formed needles.

Benches were gathered so all could sit, and cider was offered, a bit bitter to her taste, but it quenched her thirst and that was what mattered.

Talk soon turned to Brogan.

“Did you meet, Lord Brogan?” one woman asked.

“I have and he thinks highly of himself,” Annis said.

The women laughed.

One spoke up. “And for good reason. He possesses the finest features I have ever seen on a man.”

All of them nodded, and one said, “But who wants a husband who never dies?”

“Annis hopes to change that,” Garda said, and every eye turned wide. “She is here to speak with Nolan.”

“He tells tall tales,” one woman said.

“He convinced me,” another offered.

A tall woman shivered. “I would not care to find out one way or the other.”

“Has Nolan even been seen lately?” another woman asked.

A plump woman laughed. “Spread the word someone is here to talk to him about the witch and he’ll appear.”

The women did just that after dispersing, happy with the needles they had made.

A knock sounded on Garda’s door as she and Annis sat down at a small table to enjoy cabbage soup.

Garda went to the door. “That will be Nolan.”

A short, wiry man with sparse gray hair bobbed his head. “Heard someone was looking for me, Garda, and that I’d find her here.”

“You heard right,” Garda said. “Come in and warm yourself with some cabbage soup.”

“That’s generous of you, Garda, and appreciated,” Nolan said with another bob of his head.

Annis smiled as Nolan sat on the bench Garda had added to the table, obviously having expected the man.

“I’m Annis, Nolan, the one looking to speak with you,” Annis said with a smile.

“Glad to meet you, Annis,” Nolan said and got busy on his soup.

Annis did the same, realizing the man was hungry and would be more forthcoming to questions once he filled his stomach.

“More, Nolan?” Garda asked, the man having emptied his bowl fast.

“If you don’t mind? It’s delicious soup, Garda,” Nolan said and handed the empty bowl to her.

“Would you be willing to tell me the tale about your encounter with the witch in the hills?” Annis asked and was surprised at the question she got in return.

“Why do you want to know?” Nolan asked.

Garda turned a raised brow on him. “What difference does it make to you? You’re always willing to recite the tale.”

“It makes a difference,” he said with a strong nod. “I heard tell that she wants to find the witch and I don’t want any part of what might happen to her if she does find her.”

“Have no fear of that,” Annis said. “I do this of my own accord and lay no blame on you for what may come of it. I want nothing more than to hear your tale.”

Garda’s brow narrowed this time and she held firm to the bowl of soup, as if letting him know—no tale, no soup.

“At first I thought I was dreaming,” Nolan said quickly, and Garda placed the bowl in front of him and he cupped his hands around it to stop them from trembling. “The mist was so thick I could barely see in front of me, when moments before it had been light. A dream. I told myself it had to be a dream, but I couldn’t recall falling asleep.” He shivered and took a sip of the soup. “I had no choice but to stop walking. I couldn’t see a thing in front of me. That’s when I realized how quiet it was, not a sound to be heard. Not a cry of a bird. Not a scurry of animals. Not even a rustle of the leaves. It had gone completely silent. Life is filled with sounds. It’s never silent. That was when I was convinced I was dreaming.”

Annis waited patiently, though eager to hear more as he paused to scoop up some of the cabbage with a chunk of bread.

Nolan wiped his mouth on his worn wool sleeve before he continued. “I was relieved when the mist began to fade. I feared it would swallow me live it was so thick.” He trembled and gripped the bowl again. “That’s when I saw the raven perched on a low branch, his beady black eyes staring right at me, silent as can be. I kept a wide berth as I went to walk around it. It squawked and I stilled, and the bird turned its head slowly. I didn’t want to look where his beady eyes focused, but when he turned his black eyes on me again and turned his head once more, I knew it was a command, and I turned my head.” He paled. “She stood there swathed in all black, gripping a walking stick as tall as herself, strange symbols carved into it. Her hood was drawn over part of her face, but a cloud partially covered the moon that night making it difficult to see clearly.”

He shook his head slowly and Annis wondered if he even knew he shook it.

“‘I’m lost’ came out of my mouth, though I didn’t know why I said it. She told me I was treading on her land.” He suddenly hugged himself. “I apologized over and over, fearful of what she might do to me. She raised her stick and warned me that if I ever happened upon her home again…” He paled and his whole body trembled as did his words when he spoke again. “She told me she would turn me into one of her minions—the ravens that serve her so well.”

A tremble ran through Annis. Was the witch that powerful? Could she turn a human into a bird? Did she even want to find out? Bliss. She was doing this to save Bliss.

His eyes turned wide. “Then she parted the clouds overhead to reveal a full moon and it lit a path in front of me. She ordered me to go and never return. I ran as fast as my legs would go and kept running until I collapsed. I rolled on my back, breathless, and fear struck me as I looked up at the sky and saw a half moon. I didn’t know if the witch had used her evil magic to force the moon to turn full or if more time had passed than I realized. Or if it truly had been nothing more than a dream.”

Annis’s flesh prickled along her arms, and Garda’s strong shudder drew her attention even though the woman had heard the tale many times before.

It took Annis a moment to ask, “Can you tell me where this was that you encountered her?”

Nolan shook his head. “I don’t know. I found myself in a village, if it could be called that there were so few dwellings and people. I was on my way here after taking a message to Lord Lochlann from Lord Balloch when I woke from a drunken stupor in the small village. I did recall meeting someone on the road who had shared his ale with me, much more ale than I had realized. I figured I made my way to the village and collapsed. I was given directions to return home and must have gotten lost. I thought myself lucky after my encounter with the witch to find myself on the right path and didn’t waste any time in getting home.”

“Did either lord learn of your encounter?” Annis asked.

Garda responded to that. “That they did, and Nolan was warned to stop spreading such nonsense. That’s why he now keeps the nonsense to the village.”

“Yet you tell me,” Annis said.

“Only to warn you. To make you see what you will face if you dare such an encounter with the witch,” Nolan cautioned.

“I appreciate the warning, but my sister’s life depends on me meeting the witch,” Annis said. “This village you woke in, can you tell me how to get there?”

He nodded. “Aye, I can, but they are a strange lot. You would be wise to be cautious.”

“That I will do,” Annis assured him.

The witch was discussed no more, and Nolan left right after he finished his second bowl of soup. Shortly after, Garda sought her narrow bed and Annis made herself comfortable on the earth floor. She thought sleep would be difficult, her thoughts on what Nolan had told her, but a sound slumber claimed her as soon as she closed her eyes.

The next morning Garda offered her some bread and cheese to take along with her and wished her luck.

“I truly do pray that you can find a way to end this terrible curse that has inflicted so much pain and heartbreak on so many,” Garda said and hugged Annis. “May the forest spirits keep you safe on your quest.”

Several women wished her well as she left the village and she had barely entered the woods when Nolan stepped out from behind a tree, causing her to jump.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologized, a nervous tremor to his words. “There is something I must tell you. Something meant for your ears only.”

Curious at the secrecy that he implied, she asked, “What is it, Nolan?”

He kept his voice low. “The witch gave me a message. Warned me not to fail to deliver it. Warned me it was meant for one person’s ears alone. That person is you.”

Annis’s eyes shot wide, startled by the news. “The witch knew my name?”

Nolan shook his head. “Nay.”

“Then how do you know the message is meant for me?”

“The message was clear. The witch ordered me to tell the fiery, red-haired woman that she is waiting for her.”