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“He is wise, and I must trust him,” Flora said.

The cleric bobbed his head. “Aye, my child, you understand.”

“I do trust him. I trust that he brings you to Clan Norham for a reason, a good reason,” she said, staring into the cleric’s eyes and seeing fear, and took a hunch. “You will help us?”

Beads of sweat broke out on the cleric’s brow. “I will try, but if the myth proves true, there is little I can do.”

“Aye, the myth,” Flora said, nodding as if she knew of what he spoke.

“Aye, the giant could prove troublesome.”

Giant?There was a giant in her new home? She had to know more and took a chance. “And for a good reason.”

“Some believe so. After all, he was the one who tore part of the mainland free with his huge hands to form the Isle of Outerson and set it adrift to settle in the middle of the loch. The giant continues to reside there forever protecting the isle and the clan who inhabits it, the fierce Clan Norham.”

“He still inhabits the isle?” she asked, appearing frightened, though not believing such a tall tale.

“His ghost does. He resides in the keep and leaves no one in peace.”

CHAPTER2

Flora woke that next morning to voices not that far from where she lay. Two men talked and she recognized one voice as her husband’s. She peeked through squinted eyes to see he was sitting opposite the fire from her, Kinnell next to him. It was clear by his swollen eye and split lip that he had been in a fight. She closed her eyes and listened.

“I did not spot his tracks until too late,” Kinnell said. “He is a good tracker, though not a fighter. I would have claimed victory and saved you a battle if someone had not struck me from behind.”

“You have a good-sized lump,” her husband said. “See what Iona says about it when we reach home.

Kinnell laughed. “I can already tell you what the witch of a healer will say… it is far from your arse.”

“She does have a blunt tongue to her but ask her anyway.”

“Blunt? It is a wicked tongue she has,” Kinnell said, laughter still in his tone.

Silence followed for a moment before Torin said, “This attack disturbs me. This area of the woods is barely traveled. There isn’t a trampled path to be found. So, what was a band of mercenaries with a tracker doing here?”

“I wonder the same myself,” Kinnell admitted. “There is nothing to be found here, except you on your way home with your new wife.”

His words turned both men silent for a few minutes.

“Have you made her aware of the ghost?” Kinnell asked.

“Not yet.”

“You cannot sleep in the keep upon our return. She will run screaming from the place,” Kinnell advised.

“We will stay in the cottage next to the keep,” Torin said, sounding none too happy about it.

“How long has it been since anyone has slept in the keep?”

“Endless months,” Torin admitted. “Once dusk falls no one wants to remain there.”

“Can you blame them? Moans, a strange sweeping cold, doors found opened after they had been closed or closed after left open. Fires lit in hearths found cold when they had been lit. The giant’s ghost wants the place to himself.”

Kinnell’s voice turned low, and Flora was glad the fire had dwindled, and the crackle of the flames were not as loud.

“And do not tell me you do not believe in ghosts. We both saw one that day in the woods. Your grandfather, Hamish. He looked straight at you, gave a wave, and walked off, vanishing into thin air. When we returned to the keep, we discovered he had died hours before then. If only one of us had seen him there surely there’d be doubt, but we both saw him as clear as day.”

“But the giant doesn’t show himself,” Torin argued.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Historical