FLAME ACROSS THE HIGHLANDS (32 page)

Chapter Forty-One

A moaning wail whispered in the darkness, an eerie song as breathless as the wind.  It echoed  over and over. Haunting. Chilling. Brianna struggled to open her eyes. "Please. Help me," she murmured.

It was as if she were walking down a long, dark tunnel, groping about, struggling to come into the light.  A figure waited for her at the tunnel's end and she reached out.  Ian?  She whispered his name over and over, needing him, wanting him
, but the fiercesome mourning song was driving  him away. That  howling song!

Se
a witches!  They were singing! Brianna gasped raggedly for air, trying to scream.  But no sound came.  Her throat burned like fire. "
Glastig
!" she tried to say but  her throat constricted, she was choking. Sea fairies!   Singing their song. A frightening image hovered in her mind  of the deceiving crones, part seductive woman, part goat.

She remembered seeing
her
. Run! Get way! Kicking and thrashing, she tried to move but was helpless. She was hot, burning up. The sea witch was trying to smother her, roast her alive.  No!

The eerie song moaned again and Brianna put her hands over her ears in an attempt to block it out.  The sea
fairies  always sang, trying to entice a  human mate, luring them into the sea. 
Ian
!  "Nae, he is mine!" she croaked, tossing he head form side to side. Visions swirled through her mind--Ian lying on the rocks as a swarm of unearthly beings chanted over him.

Blindly, uncontrollably, she struck out like a wild thing at the  figures.  She would never see Ian again
.  They would hold him captive. "Please....!" Opening her eyes to slits she saw one of them bending over her. 

"Sleep!" a voice said, touching her with fingers that were strangely gentle, like a soft summer breeze. Again warmth surrounded her but this time she didn't struggle.  Unconsciousl
y, she reached out, touching warm flesh, grasping tightly with her hands.  "Ye will be all right!"  It sounded like a promise. Again the whispering song. Despite her fear it lulled her to sleep.

When Brianna awoke she was lying on her back, swathed in soft wool plaid.  Opening her eyes
, she gasped as her gaze swept over the woman holding vigil by her side. A witch surely, and yet the pale face held a look of kindness. "Who.....?"

"Hush.  Ye must get back yer strength."  The visage smiled with all the sweetness of an angel.

Brianna took a deep breath and slowly appraised the woman. The burnished brown hair was streaked with gray and hung wildly about her shoulders framing a strangely attractive face despite its thinness.  Nearly pretty with a bold prominent nose and high cheekbones.  A witch?  There were  tiny lines at the corner of the woman's eyes and mouth.  She looked to be of about twice Brianna's age and appeared to be thin despite her baggy dark blue gown.

"Where...where am I?" Brianna whispered, trying to focus he
r eyes in the dimly lighted closed area.

"My island!"

"Yer island?"  Brianna shivered as her gaze roamed over her surroundings.  Not a room at all but a yawning cavern of dark rock, lit only by torchlight. 

"I pulled ye from the ocean and brought ye here to care for ye.  Poor wee lassie!  I couldna let the waters claim ye."

"Aye!"  Brianna remembered everything clearly now.  This then was the frightening woman who had fished her from the water, chased her and pulled at her hair.  Was she to believe that she should have no fear of her?  Quite the contrary, she felt apprehensive despite the woman's smile as she remembered being told of a mad "witch" who inhabited Staffa.  Even fishermen were told to avoid that awesome stone-columned isle for fear of coming into the harridan's power.  Now Brianna was in that fiercesome woman's company. As prisoner? "My throat...my...my chest.."

"Ye swallowed part of the sea.  I had to push i
t out of yer lungs." Opening a small leather bag, she drew forth a gnarled root, a mortar and pestle.  "I'll fix ye something that will soothe the soreness of yer throat."

Brianna shook her head.  She would have no part of any wit
ches potions. "Nae!  My...my throat feels much better and I...I..."  Pausing she listened. "That song!"  Brianna shuddered.  "It...it sounds like...like ghosts."

Throwing ba
ck her head the woman cackled. "Not ghosties. Just the sea singing. It echoes through the caves like a chant.
Am Uamh Ehinn
. The musical cave I call it.  It soothes me, but then I've grown used to it."  Rising to her feet, the woman walked slowly across the cave and poked about the embers of a fire. "Are ye cold?"

"Aye."  Brianna  tried to sit up
, but the whirling inside her head caused her to lie back down.  She was  so dizzy, so weary. Tears stung her eyes as she remembered  Ian! "Was there....was there a laddie wi' me?" The woman shook her head "no".  "No sign of him?" He was lost to her then. Such a devastating thought. To have had such happiness only to lose it. "Oh, Ian!"  Why had she been saved and not Ian? The thought of being without him unleashed a flood of tears.  Turning over on her side, she gave vent to her pain in great gulping sobs.

"Here, lassie, dunna cry."  The woman tried to comfort Brianna but her torrent of weeping was uncontrollable.

"He is gone!" Mumbling through her tears, Brianna told her story of losing Ian in the storm.  "I canna live wi'out him."

"Stop that!"  Hunkering down, the woman reached out and shook Brianna by her shoulders.  "Weeping will do no good.  Believe me, I know.  I hae cried an ocean full of tears but they canna sooth my pain."

"Yer pain?"  Brianna wiped her eyes. There was something so tragic, so mournful in the woman's expression. She reminded Brianna of a lost soul.  "Tell me...."

W
arily the woman shook her head. "Nae!  There are those who pose a..a danger to me.  I....I canna tell ye."

"Are ye mourning someone?  Ye seem so lonely......."  The sudden tensing of the woman's body, the look of utter despair mirrored in her eyes, answered Brianna's question.  "Someone ye loved deeply?"

Fear etched the woman's face.  "No one!  I hae loved no one!  No one, I say!"  Rising quickly to her feet she flitted about the cavern like a cornered moth.  "I shouldna hae brought ye here. Nae! Nae! Far better for me to be all alone.....!  Alone!"  Clutching her hands to her breasts, she gave forth a piercing wail  then vanished through the mouth of the cave leaving Brianna all alone.

The waters swirling around Ian were freezing, debilitating.  Trying to Ignore his discomfort, he strained against the waves searching for Brianna.  He had seen her go over the side, buffeted up by a huge hand-like wave when the curach turned over in the water. Then it was as if she just disappeared!  Though he had gone below the surface of the ocean again and again he had not been able to find her.  Even so, he had been determined not give up!  Brianna was his heart, his soul.

Taking a deep breath, Ian dove deep within the sea, stubborn in his resolve.  He stayed under until his lungs were scr
eaming for air, then surfaced. Treading water he continued his search, but  at last he had to admit defeat.  He was winded, his strength was giving out.

Keeping his head above water, Ia
n looked around him taking note of the huge dark shape looming in front of him.  It looked much like the massive trunks of a forest, bundled together, strange looking stone formations.  Seemingly as tall as a castle.  An island of sorts.

"An island!" he gasped.  An island meant people and boats. He'd procure the aid of the fishermen who surely inhabited the land mass.  Aye, he'd get help in finding Brianna.

How long he had been in the water, Ian did not know.  He only knew his arms ached, his legs  were numb, his breath was coming far too hard. He had to face the possibility that the icy water might very well be his grave.  He was sinking beneath the surface but the memory of Brianna gave him new resolve. No!  He would not give in to death.  He would challenge the water. Aye.   He would live to find Brianna! He would win! If he could only manage to survive, make it the short distance to shore. That thought gave him renewed strength and he struck out again, arm over arm, legs propelling his body through the water until something hard scraped his feet.  He could feel solid ground beneath the water. 

With a final surge of strength he fought his way through the last few feet of water and pulled himself up.  Stumbling upon the shore, crawling across the slippery rocks, Ian fought for breath, then glanced in the direction of the ocean.  The tide was coming in and if he wasn't careful he could be swept back out into the sea again.

"I can't stop now," he wheezed, scrambling over the slimy seaweed and jagged rocks.  He had to find help, had to initiate a renewed search for Brianna. That  thought  drove him on to the point of total unrelenting exhaustion. Black splotches danced before his eyes as he walked endlessly but he refused to succumb to unconsciousness.  He hadn't come this far to give up now.  With determination he stayed on his feet, wandering about.

Rock. Nothing but rock.
Huge basalt columns that rose up to the sky, crags and caverns.  There was no sign of life.  No boats.  No cottages. No vegetation.  The longer he walked the more certain Ian was that there were no people. An uninhabited island. A never-ending acreage of nothingness. He was marooned with no visible way of getting off except throwing himself into the sea to swim endlessly.  He had hoped.....

Collapsing to the hard rocky ground Ian realized he could not ta
ke another step.  He was tired. So tired. Disappointment and disillusionment had taken a toll of his stamina, and he felt as feeble as a newborn lamb.  With a deep sigh he ceased his struggle.

Surely
, he must have lost his mind, for in the silence he seemed to hear music. He struggled with such an illogical thought. It was impossible.  If he'd had the strength he might have laughed.  Music!  Eerie voices, muffled by the wind, groaning. Was it a portent of something evil?

Am I dead?  Wearily he lifted his head.  Surely
, this was not heaven.  Purgatory then? All the stories he'd heard of such things came back to haunt him. "No!"  He urged himself to calm.  His head ached. The dead felt no pain.

He strained to hear the strange sound a
gain to discern its direction. To the left? The right?  Ahead of him or behind? He peered into the misty darkness hoping to see at least a silhouette, but could only see the dark water and  gray swirling fog.  Closing his eyes he let the seductive darkness  enfold him.                                                           

Chapter Forty-Two

Brianna sat upon the cold damp rocks gazing solemnly into the swirling waters . Hugging her arms around her knees, she breathed deeply of the sea air, remembering so vividly that night when Ian had held her in
his arms and made love to her in the curach. How strange that the ocean should yield such happy memories and yet such tragedy as well.

The wind swirled around her, whipping thick strands of her flaming hair into her face.  Reaching up, she brushed the silken threads away, not at all surprised to find he
r cheeks wet with a mixture of salt spray and tears. Brianna had spent the last few days in a haze of grief, haunted by tortured visions of that tragic moment when her happiness had been shattered upon the crest of a violent wave.

"Oh, Ian!" Never had she felt such overwhelming despair, an emptiness, as if a part of her soul had died.

Turning  her face towards the sea, she watched as the foaming waves hit the stone cliffs with noisy fury.  The expanse of water was an awesome reminder of her helplessness  and her grief. Oh, how she wanted to get off this sullen, deserted island as soon as possible, to go back home, but she was trapped by the same waves that had so tumultuously brought her here. She was marooned with that strange woman who at times seemed  more than a bit daft.

Apprehension for that woman gnawed at her, for she was not at all reassured that the woman was not a witch. 
Surely, there were times when she acted very strangely, murmuring to herself, showing a strange fear whenever Brianna asked her name, hiding within a dream-world shell of secrecy.  It was unnerving and very puzzling. Yet, if not for this woman Brianna knew she might well be dead.   She had shared her cave, given Brianna food and tried to sooth her grief with mumbled words of comfort.  Even so, the woman made Brianna nervous, uneasy. There were times when she seemed a congenial companion, sympathetic, gentle, kind but at other times her  change of mood was frightening.

There where those in the islands far to the north who told of fairy-seal-women, beings who chose human husbands, came ashore and then suddenly vanished.  Was this woman one of them?  It was said that they were very beautiful and surely the woman of the isle gave the impression that she must
have been very lovely once.  Brianna found herself watching, wondering if her new companion would suddenly doff her seal skin and plunge into the waves to be seen no more. 

Had she? Where was she now?  Brianna wondered.  There were times when she hovered by Brianna's elbow and other times when she  seemed to just vanish.  But no, she had not disappeared after all. She cou
ld see her gathering driftwood for the fire, bending and stooping as if each little stick was a rare treasure.  She was so self-reliant, not depending on anyone or anything for her comfort  except her own skills, and yet Brianna was struck by how lonely it must be not to have a family. No clan! Who  or what was she?  And what had drawn her here?  Was she a witch or fairie kin? 

Brianna had tried to learn the story of what had brought the woman to
Staffa, but all she had gotten for her efforts was silence. The woman refused to talk about herself, preferring instead to ask Brianna questions.               

"I'm called Brianna," she had answered, "and I hae a sister who is the mirror image of me.  And a new-found brother." 

Strange how despite her disquiet about the woman, Brianna had babbled so much about her childhood.  The pranks she and her sister had played, the love they shared for their father.  Brianna had noticed a smile trembling at the corners of the woman's mouth.  When she had revealed her bold plan for winning the man that she loved, of exhorting her sister's promise to take her place, then  traveling to Argyll to speak with her lover's chieftain, the woman had actually laughed.  It was only when she had mentioned the name
Campbell
that the woman had turned quite pale, as if that name held terror for her.  But though Brianna had tried to find out why, it had been useless.  She had seemed again to enter into her own private world and Brianna had wondered what thoughts tortured the poor soul.

Seeing the familiar form of the woman coming her way now, Brianna got to her feet and walked to meet her, granting to her a semblance of friendship.  "Here, let me hae a bit of that.  It looks like a heavy load."

"Not so heavy, but a wee bit cumbersome." Thankfully, she gave up half of the pieces to Brianna.  "There are some fine clams.  I saw them.  Just as soon as I hae started a fire I'll go get us a few.  'Twill be a welcome change from fish and seaweed I would be thinking."

"Aye."  Oh, what Brianna would not have given for a slice of venison.  Fish, fish, fish, that's all she ate now, and yet she scolded h
erself for her ungratefulness. Without this woman she might well have gone hungry.  "I'll give ye a hand  gathering the clams.  My father used to say I might hae been a fine fishermon were I not a lass. "

"And indeed ye might hae been."  The woman smiled sadly as if somehow Brianna's conversation brought to mind her own memories.  Thoughtfully she spread the pieces of driftwood on the rocks to dry.  Brianna did the same.

"My father is such a fine, brave mon."

"Aye, my father was a fine mon too.  Brave yet very, very kind to me and to my brother."  Her eyes held a
faraway  look for just a moment as if remembering.

"Ye had a brother?"

The woman stiffened. "Aye.  Once but no longer."  As if to put an end to the conversation, she hurried on ahead of Brianna, making her way to the cave.  There she busied herself with stoking the small fire that kept them warm.

No, Brianna thought.  I am not going to let her keep evading me this way. Her curiosity was much too fierce to pretend  that she just didn't care about this woman's identity.  If she was a witch or one of the fairy folk, if that was why she was so fiercely secretive
, then Brianna wanted to know. 

Coming up behind the woman
, she laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are ye angry wi' yer brother? Is that why ye look so sad? Or is that ye are afraid of something?"

"Afraid?"

The woman drew back, looking this way and that as if she wanted to run.  Sensing her intent, Brianna blocked her way. "Please, don't run away.  I won't hurt ye.  I want to be yer friend."

"'Tis no such thing..."  Never had Brianna seen so much pain reflected in anyone's eyes as she did now.  "Betrayal is all ye get for opening up yer heart."

"Did yer brother betray ye?"

Nervously the woman brushed the hair from her face, shaking her head as if to c
lear it of unpleasant memories. "I canna remember all.  Only that I can never return."

"To yer clan?"

"I can never go back to them, to my brother."

She was not a witch then.  Brianna breathed a sigh of relief.  She was just a poor daft woman who seemed to have been greatly wronged in some way.  Driven from the bosom of her clan perhaps
, but why? There were many reasons for being exiled--disobedience, going against the good of the clan, harm to another clan member.  The system of clan justice was administered by a
brieve
  who proportioned fines and imposed punishment for offences. Had she been sentenced for a crime?  What had this woman done?

"Wh
y?  Why can ye never go back?"  As she pulled away, Brianna grasped her hand, holding her firmly. "Trust me. I will help ye if I can.  I owe ye a debt of gratitude for pulling me out of the sea.  I want to be yer friend."

Eyes  like that of a wounded animal looked back at Brianna.  "I dared to love...."

"To love? Who did ye love? Who has hurt ye?"

Burying her face in her hands, sinking to her knees the woman mumbled piteously, "I canna remember all.  My head aches when I try.  All I know is that my heart is broken.  The mon that I loved more than life itself is gone.  L
ike yer love. Gone....."              

"I'm so sorry...!"  Reaching out, Brianna stroked the the woman's head in a sympathetic gesture of comfort, trying to piece together what might have happened.  Had she fallen in love with a man from a rival clan? Or a priest?  Someone forbidden? 

Wiping away her tears the woman looked up. "Ye remind me of myself many years ago.  Yer tears became my tears as I remembered."   Her blue eyes widened as the woman put a hand to her throat. "Nae.  It canna be. It canna be.  Sweet merciful Jesus! Morgan." A fit of trembling shook the woman from head to toe.

Brianna followed the line of the woman's vision, suddenly
fearful of what she might see.  A ghost?  Stiffening her shoulders, she prepared herself for the most unearthly of sights.  Even so, she was totally stunned by the visage that stood before her.  If it was a ghost it was one whose presence she welcomed.  Rising slowly to her feet she moved towards him, choking out his name.  "
Ian!"