Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection (10 page)

She raised her voice and announced, “Leave
us.”

The servants scurried quickly out of the
room.

Once Deidre and Brianna were alone Deidre
stopped chopping. “I dare not say. Please don’t ask me.”

She heard the fear in Deidre’s quivering
voice. “Is there no one who will tell me?”

“Most who know are gone, having left by
choice those many years ago or death has claimed them. I was a
young child at the time and my parents didn’t know I listened as
they talked. They thought of leaving but life was good here and so
they decided to stay. Fear kept the secret these many years.”

“Fear of what?”

Deidre shook her head. “I would rather die
than say.”

Brianna understood fear. Her first husband
had instilled it in her and she had no want to cause the same to
Deidre. “I understand.” She turned to leave then turned back with a
flourish. “The room holds the secret doesn’t it.”

Deidre didn’t say a word but her wide eyes
answered for her.

Brianna stopped in the Great Hall to direct
the servants in preparing for those who would seek shelter here. A
few villagers had already arrived and shared the tale of their
difficult travel to reach the keep. It made Brianna worry even more
about her husband. No matter what tales were told about his daring
and courageous exploits he was now her husband and a father and she
wanted him kept safe.

A blinding blizzard will not keep you from
me.
She smiled recalling his words and thought about later when
he returned how they would...

She issued more orders and then hoisted her
skirt and hurried up the stairs. She’d not have tonight with her
husband interrupted. She would discover the secret that only the
room could tell her and lay the ghost to rest.

A chill ran through her as she stepped into
the room. The last of the embers had died leaving the room in
almost total darkness. She managed to find one of the candles along
the mantel and lit it. It didn’t provide much light but it would
have to do.

She stepped back away from the hearth and
held the candle high. Her eyes spotted it immediately... a stone
lying in the cold ashes.

She hunched down to examine the stone and
when she held the candle over it the flame flickered wildly as if
blown by a breath or slight wind. She grew excited and stepped in
the hearth having to hunch over to do so and began feeling along
the stones. It wasn’t long before she found the area where the
stone had fallen from and felt the slight wind that rushed
through.

She pushed on the stones in that area and
when nothing happened she shoved her body against it. She was about
to give up when she gave it one more try and the stone wall moved.
She didn’t hesitate. She gave it a few more shoves until there was
finally enough room for her to squeeze through.

Without thought to danger she slipped through
the narrow entrance never seeing the ghost that stood behind her
and followed her in.

~~~

“What witch?” Royce asked the old man.

“The one that lived in the woods or so I
heard tell. She cast a spell on him while he was visiting the
Campbell clan. I can’t recall all the particulars but I do remember
that he was a mighty warrior from further north in the Highlands
and destined to be laird of his clan. To save him from the witch
his father had him locked in the room at the keep and posted guards
while he and his men went in search of her. His father intended to
see her burn so that his son would be free of her evil spell.”

“What went wrong?” Royce asked.

“The witch was found and held in the dungeon
while they waited for the blizzard to end so that they could burn
her for all to see.”

Royce guessed the rest. “The witch
disappeared and so did the warrior.”

The old man nodded. “Many believed that the
witch used her magic to free herself and then whisked him away. The
warrior’s father openly cursed the witch and swore to go after her
and find his son.” He shook his head slowly. “As soon as he
finished cursing the witch, he grabbed his chest and fell to the
ground dead. Some villagers left with my da and me while the others
swore never to mention the witch or what had happened that
Christmastime ever again for fear she would strike them dead.”

“And you have not spoken about this all these
years yet you speak of it now?”

The old man shrugged. “I am old; death does
not frighten me anymore.”

One of Royce’s men called out to him and with
a nod to the old man he walked over to the warrior wondering if the
Christmas ghost could be the warrior who vanished all those years
ago.

Royce hurried his men along in securing the
group for travel. He wanted to get home to his wife and tell her
what he had learned. If the ghost was the warrior then perhaps he
wanted his body found and finally laid to rest.

~~~

Brianna moved along the cold stone passageway
slowly, the single candle making it difficult to see where she
stepped. The darkness followed behind her and she had no want to
turn around. She did not know what she expected to find or even
where she headed, she only knew that somehow this passageway was
connected to the ghost and she had to travel it.

She wished she had had sense enough to bring
a shawl or cloak with her. The damp corridor chilled her to the
bone. She inched her foot forward not sure of where she stepped and
it was a good thing she did since she felt the edge of a step. She
didn’t know how many steps she went down. She stopped counting
after twelve, the air growing chillier and turning her thoughts to
the possibility of freezing to death if she didn’t come upon an
exit soon.

The secret passageway probably led out of the
keep. No doubt it had been built as an escape route and now
forgotten. She kept at a snail’s pace not wanting to take the
chance of injuring herself and no one finding her. She should have
had one of Royce’s warriors accompany her but in her zeal to
investigate she had not thought of it and now she was alone, on her
own with no one knowing her whereabouts.

Royce was not going to like that.

Help.

She froze not from the whispered plea but
from the breath that tickled her ear. Someone stood behind her...
close behind her.

Help.

Pushing her fear aside as best she could she
said, “I’m trying to help you but I am not sure what to do.”

A hand at her back urged her forward.

Her legs almost gave way and her heart
pounded so badly she thought it would burst from her chest. She had
to have been a fool to enter the passageway alone—but then she
hadn’t—the ghost had come with her.

She moved forward with cautious steps
recalling what the old woman had told Royce,
the ghost searches
for something.
She immediately asked, “What is it you want me
to find?”

Me.

Brianna stumbled and almost fell but righted
herself just in time to prevent a fall. She continued along trying
to piece together what had happened to the ghost. He had traveled
this passageway but why?

The path curved and as she followed it a
sudden wind wiped along. She reacted out of instinct not wanting to
lose the only light she had. She turned shielding the candle with
her body and came face to face with the ghost.

He was tall and broad and stood transparent
in the darkness.

His hand reached for her face and she hastily
backed away from him. A foolish move for she suddenly felt the edge
of a step beneath her leather boot and she tried frantically to
stop herself from falling as did the ghost.

He reached out trying desperately to grab her
but his hands went right through her.

Her feet went out completely from under her
and she landed on her romp only to bounce off the edge of another
step and tumble repeatedly down the flight of stairs that seemed to
go on forever. Her head hit the last step and for a moment she was
completely disoriented. She finally managed to stand though with
difficulty and pain and she went to take a step forward when too
late she saw the ghost in front of her, his hand warning her to
stop.

She tripped over something and came down
hard, her head once again hitting stone. This time she could barely
move. She lay still for how long she wasn’t sure... minutes,
perhaps hours. Finally, she turned her head and the ghost was
hunched down beside her.

It was her turn to say, “Help.”

He vanished and she reached out trying to
find the wall in hopes of using it as a support in an attempt to
stand. Instead she touched something and not sure what it was she
took hold of it and held it up in front of her eyes trying to focus
in the dark. When she finally did...

She would have screamed but she didn’t have
enough strength left. She stared open-mouthed at the skeletal hand
she held. She had found the remains of the ghost. That thought was
her last as she descended into blessed unconsciousness.

~~~

Royce was never so happy to enter the village
and help the travelers into the keep. He assisted the old man
settling him at a table close to the burning hearth, King, the
hound, curled up there as usual. He gave a glance around the Great
Hall hoping to spot his wife but she was nowhere to be seen. He had
warned her to remain there. He had wanted her where others would be
so that she would be safe. She might be busy seeing to preparations
for those seeking refuge at the keep.

He left the group to the care of his men and
went in search of her. The kitchen was the first place he looked.
Everyone was so busy that no one paid him mind when he entered. He
gave a quick glance around but his wife was not there. He hoped she
hadn’t returned to the room they had shared last night and hurried
to find out.

The door was partially open and upon entering
the room he shook his head and turned and left. The fire had died
out long ago, the room holding a frosty chill and so dark that
nothing could be seen. He hurried along to their bed chamber and
threw the door opening expecting her to greet him.

It was empty, though pleasantly warm with a
fire roaring in the hearth and the bed covers folded back waiting
for Brianna and him to crawl beneath. His next stop was his
daughter’s room only to find her sound asleep and Sara telling him
that she hadn’t seen Brianna in hours and that Breda would soon
need feeding.

Worry began to churn in Royce’s stomach as he
hurried into the Great Hall once again and searched it with a
frantic glance. The doors blew open with the force of the wind that
ushered in a small group of people and a few of his warriors who
fought to close the doors behind them.

The old woman from the woods was among the
group and she quickly sought the fire’s warmth. Royce was about to
head once again to the kitchen hoping in the chaos that he had
missed his wife when he saw that the old man’s face had turned
deathly pale, his eyes as round as full moons staring at the old
woman.

Royce hurried over to him. “Is something
wrong?”

The old man reached out, grabbed Royce’s
wrist, nodded at the woman and whispered, “She’s the witch.”

Before Royce could do anything the old hound
King sat up and let loose with a sorrowful howl that sent chills
through everyone in the Great Hall. It was well known that when a
dog howled like that someone would die.

When the dog finished he got up from his spot
by the hearth, walked over to Royce barked and trotted to the
stairs. He looked back at Royce who had not followed, so shocked
was he that the dog had moved, and barked once again.

Royce understood... the dog wanted him to
follow.

He ordered two warriors to follow him. King
climbed the stairs, the dog steps surprisingly spry and trotted
down the hall to the dark room and entered. Royce directed his men
to light candles and when there was sufficient light they all
stared at King sitting in the ashes in the middle of the
hearth.

But what caused them to step back in haste
and King to run under the bed and hide was the ghost stepping
through the stones.

Royce had been the only one to step forward.
“Where is my wife?” he demanded.

The ghost crooked his finger for Royce to
follow and he ordered one of his men to do the same. The warrior
almost hesitated but one murderous look from Royce and the warrior
decided he would prefer to deal with a ghost than with Royce.

They carried candles to light the way and
Royce called out to his wife but got no response. He continued to
follow the apparition ready to do battle with him however necessary
if it meant finding his wife.

The cold soon seeped into him and he stopped
and turned to his warrior. “Go get torches, cloaks, blankets, and
bring more men with you.”

The man nodded, turned and with relief
hurried to do his laird’s bidding.

Royce turned around only to see that the
ghost had vanished and anger bubbled up from deep inside him. He
threw back his head and roared like a mighty beast.

Brianna’s eyes opened in a flash. Where was
she? Why was she so cold? It took a moment for her to recall. She
tried to move but her head hurt and so did various parts of her
body. It didn’t matter how bad the pain was; she had to get out of
there. Her body was shivering from the cold and the dampness that
had seeped into her clothes didn’t help. She attempted to move
again and almost slipped back into unconsciousness.

Tears filled her eyes and though she knew she
had to keep her wits about her and maintain her courage, all she
wanted was her husband.

“Royce,” she whispered.

“Brianna.”

Her name reverberated like rolling thunder
through the tunnel and for a moment she feared she was imagining
it.

“Royce,” she called out, though it caused her
pain to do so.