I shook the sheets and coughed as a storm of dust rose up. The bed, and now the room, was in dire need of an airing. I hurried over to the right window and threw it open. I had to give pause to the view.
The castle was built in fits and starts. The north wing was the oldest, and the west wing was the newest. The west wing jutted out of the rear of the castle and the window at which I stood faced the north wing and the mountain. Far beneath me lay a large terraced garden. A spring ran down the mountain and through the center of the stone pathways. The water sank beneath the castle and to the well accessed in the stables, and provided those of us within its walls a reliable source of fresh water. Benches were placed along the walks with their backs turned to the wide, tall beds of flowers. Though the autumn was full upon us the plants were still green and the flowers still held some faded colors to them.
The view was wonderful, but my eyes were kept on the north wing. I could see the line of windows along that wing, and I noticed a queer thing. Though Aili had told us all there was no one in the north wing I noticed some of the glass panes in the windows at the end of the wing were open.
"Are you done?" a voice snapped.
I spun around to find Bean Lyel behind me. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed so tightly together that they were pale from the force.
"A-almost," I replied.
"Then you're as good as not started, now get away from that window and get to work," she snapped.
I quickened away from the window and to the bed. Bean Lyel took my place at the window and looked out. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed she, too, had her eyes turned to the north wing. She pulled back and shut the window with her.
In a thrice I had the bed done and was handed a dust rag by Bean Lyel. That chore was followed by many others as we swept the floor, stoked the fire, and made the room very comfortable. When all was done the autumn sunlight was dim in the sky. Bean Lyel lit a candle and handed me one before we left the room to the passage.
"Tell Aili I will need your services the day after the morrow," she instructed me.
I cringed, but bowed my head. "Yes, Bean Lyel."
"Good. Now off with you, and keep away from the north wing."
I hurried down the passage. Bean Lyel was as queer a sort as Bruce, but while his nature was teasing hers was not. I returned to the kitchen and Aili met me with candle in hand.
"God be praised, but I was about to look for you," Aili told me as she set a hand on my back. "Didn't Bean Lyel tell you you're not to be in the passages at this hour?"
"No, only that she would like my services on the day after the morrow," I replied.
"Well, she will have them, but she treasures them little if she doesn't warn you to such rules as we have here," Aili commented. "Now let's be off to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day for the both of us."
A small passage off the kitchen led to a row of tiny rooms, one of which was to be mine. There was scarcely room enough to lay down for two people to lay on the mess of straw, but two people it was required to hold. I was to share with Mary. She was none to pleased with the prospect.
"Why am I to share my room?" she whined to Aili.
"Because you're the only one who isn't," Aili pointed out.
"But you aren't," Mary argued.
Aili's eyes narrowed. "That's my perk and one you haven't earned, now stop your grumbling and let her inside."
Mary frowned, but stepped aside. I bowed my head and slipped inside.
"And that's a reminder to the rest of you," Aili called to the others. "There's no leaving the rooms after lights are out except for fire or if the laird calls us. Do you understand?" We servants grumbled our understanding. "Good, now let's to bed, all of us."
Our candles were extinguished and we all gratefully settled down for a long rest. The days were long for the servants, and my first day had been tiring. I had no sooner laid my head down on the straw then I was asleep.
But I was not to stay that way.
At a late hour a noise started me awake. I lifted my head and looked around the small space. Mary lay opposite me on her own bed.
"Mary?" I whispered.
I heard only the faint wisps of a snore from her. It wasn't she who made the noise.
There! I heard it again! There was a faint sound of footsteps and the chink of a plate.
I slipped off my bed of straw and peeked out the door. A weak light shone in the kitchen, and a small shadow flickered on the wall to the left. My heart quickened as I thought of thieves, or worse. Such a danger as exposing a thief was worth the risk of a stern reprimand from Aili. I crawled out the door and to the kitchen where I peeked around the corner.
A light retreated from the kitchen and into the dining hall. I struggled to my feet and stumbled after the figure. The door to the hall was slightly ajar, and I peeked through in time to see a short figure slip into the entrance hall. I opened the door and my feet patted quietly along the cold stones to the door.
My hand stretched in front of me to push open the door, but the entrance swung open. A tall dark shape of a man stood in the doorway. I gasped and stumbled back, but their hand whipped out and wrapped around my wrist. Their hold was as cold as ice, but the firm, quiet voice was far worse. The tone made me shudder.
"Who are you?" Laird Campbell's voice snapped at me.
"I-I am Muira, your new kitchen servant," I told him.
The laird pulled me against the rough furs that were wrapped around his thin frame and his eyes looked me over. His terrible breath washed over me, and his words were short and curt. "I see. What brought you out here after curfew?"
"I-I thought I heard an intruder," I admitted.
His eyes narrowed. "And did you see who it was?"
I shook my head. "No, my laird, only a shadow and a candle."
The laird's bright, cold eyes studied me for a long while. My heart beat so quickly I feared it would stop. His hand on my wrist was painful to bear, and his furs were not well-cleaned. Finally, he pulled his face away from mine, but did not release me.
"If I find you out here then you will feel the end of my lash. Do you understand?" he snapped at me.
I nodded. "Aye, my laird."
"Good." He tossed me away from him and in the direction of the kitchen. "Now return to your room."
I bowed my head. "As you wish, my laird."
"As I demand," he corrected me.
I bowed my head again and hurried away. Never was hay so welcome beneath me as when I lay down in the small room. Mary lay still beside me as I curled into a ball and rubbed my wrist. It still throbbed from his hard hold. My mind scolded me for my foolish adventure, but my curiosity promised another chance at catching the strange figure.
CHAPTER 5
"Get up, all of you!" Aili's loud, gruff voice ordered us. "There's work to be done!"
I sat up, but my roommate groaned and rolled over.
"Just another few minutes," she pleaded.
Our door swung open and Aili stood in the doorway with her apron over her front and a stern look on her face. "I won't have any sass from you or anyone else, Mary, now up! We've guests to feed!"
Mary and I joined the others in the kitchen where Aili had already lit the ovens. The day's chores were begun as we baked a delicate feast of bread, oatmeal, and prepared the spiced mead. I glanced out the windows that faced the courtyard and noted the thick frost that lay over the ground. A chill stuck to the window frames and drifted through the stone walls into my face.
I sighed. The flowers through which I had tromped the day before were dead.
Aili came up behind me and laid her hand on my shoulder. "Are you well, Muira?" she asked me.
I shook myself from my thoughts and smiled at her. "Quite well, thank you."
She pursed her lips and studied me. "I can understand you missing your mother, but you'll get used to things here."
"I'm sure I will," I promised.
Everyone's attention turned to the door that led
to the dining hall. The entrance swung open to reveal Lady Annabel and her father, and in front of them was Chamberlain. He stepped inside and swept his hand over the room.
"This is the kitchen," he told them.
"I have eyes as well as any man," Lady Annabel quipped as she swept into the kitchen. She sneered at those of us who stood in the room covered in flour and soot from the fires. "How. . .quaint."
Chamberlain's lips pursed together, but he gestured to the hallway to our rooms. "The door behind you leads to their sleeping quarters and-" Annabel waved her hand at the steward.
"I quite understand how servants are to be housed. Father has many of his own," she informed Chamberlain.
"But not so many, my dear," Laird Graham reminded her. "And not a kitchen so large." He turned to Chamberlain and gestured to the ovens. "How many birds are able to fit in these fine ovens?"
Chamberlain shook his head. "I am afraid I don't know, but Miss Aili will give us an answer."
Aili stepped forward and bowed to the lady and laird. "Six if they are small and four if it was a good year for them," she informed them.
Lady Annabel turned her nose up and sniffed. "Laird MacNaughton has larger ovens."
"But not so many, and the castle, my dear," Graham persisted.
"If you will follow me I might show you the stables," Chamberlain offered.
"Yes, a fine idea. Laird Campbell keeps fine horses. You might ride them one day, my dear," Graham offered to his daughter.
"Perhaps," was her bored response.
Chamberlain led the pair out the kitchen door and into the courtyard. We all breathed a sigh of relief after their leaving.
"What a pair!" Mary exclaimed.
"What a fine and pointy nose!" another chimed in.
"Hush!" Aili scolded them.
Mary folded her arms over her chest and smirked at the head cook. "You think the same thing as we do, Aili. The pair of them are very high for their breeches."
"Aye, I admit I do, but I have enough brains to know when to save those words for when I know if they're to come back through the kitchen or not," Aili pointed out. "Now let's get to work. The Laird Graham will be hungry after their walking about."
We finished the cooking and set the food on the table before they set down. There was no need to impress upon them for a second time the wealth held by Laird Campbell. Aili led us back into the kitchen, those of us not to serve the lairds and lady, and rubbed her hands clean on her apron.
"All right. That'll be enough for you all," she told us as she nodded at the door. "You're free for a while yet, but mind you don't leave the castle grounds. There's dishes to be cleaned soon enough."
Mary stood beside me. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "Go out there? Are you daft?"
"You're to go out there or stay in here, but there's no going through the hall. The lady isn't keen on seeing us, and I won't have the laird's wrath on our heads for her complaints," Aili reminded her.
The mention of Annabel brought forth a twittering among the women and their opinions of her ways. I slipped away for my cloak and came back for the door. Aili caught me at the rear entrance and lowered her voice to a whisper.
"Now remember what I said, Muira," she reminded me. "Don't go out of the castle. I can't be playing favorites with you.'
I smiled and pulled my hood over my head. "I won't go far. I only want a better look of the castle from the courtyard," I assured her.
She stepped back, smiled and nodded at the door. "Well then, off with you and mind you don't catch cold."
"I won't," I promised.
I stepped out into the gloom of frost and walked to the center of the courtyard. Guards stood at attention at either side of the gate, and a few stood huddled together close to the barracks some two dozen yards from me. I stopped and looked up at the grand castle above me. The ancient stones were encased in a thin sheet of white frost that gave the keep a ghostly appearance. My eyes followed the second floor from the entrance hall to the end of the north wing.
I stood on the wrong end to view the mysterious open windows, but still I dared hope to see something of who resided within those specific stone walls. I was given disappointment. The windows that glared down at me had no secrets to show or reveal. The curtains remained shut, and my curiosity remained dissatisfied.
A cool breeze blew past me and the chill nipped at my bare face. I shuddered and hurried inside where a warm fire and chores awaited me.
The remainder of the day passed without incident. My fellow servants and I cleaned the dishes, scrubbed the floors of the dining hall, and cooked the grand food for our laird and his guests. I was grateful not to be given the chore of serving the guests as I shuddered at the thought of another close meeting with Laird Graham and his evil eyes.
The night swept over our tired bodies and we lay down for sleep, but again I was destined for something more than rest. A noise awoke me at a late hour, and this time I was prepared. I hurried to the door and peeked out. The candlelight streamed down our narrow hall and the sounds of foraging echoed through the passage. I crawled into the hall and to the corner that opened to the kitchen. The candle sat on the main table, and a figure stood hunched over the table. In front of the thief was a large platter of meat from the day's meals.
The person turned and I covered my mouth to stifle my gasp. It was a man of forty with a wrinkled face. He shuffled rather than walked, and his back was slightly curved as though with great labor. His clothing showed him to be a servant, for they were old but clean.
He didn't appear to notice me for he took his treasure of food and shuffled out the door to the dining hall. My curiosity, hindered all the long day by my mother's warning, was now too powerful. I followed the man on his nocturnal wanderings.
CHAPTER 6
I followed the strange little man through the dining hall and up the stairs in the grand hall. He mumbled to himself every now and then, and the sound echoed around us like spooks discussing the night's hauntings.
"Leod's master is in need. Aye, he grows hungry. Hungry and tired. . ." he mumbled.
I crept behind him mindful to stay in the shadows. The man turned right at the top of the stairs and shuffled into the north wing. I reached the top and paused. He was surely no thief, but I couldn't fathom why he was to go into a wing where no one resided. His candle grew dim from the distance. My reckless curiosity demanded I continue to follow, so I did.
The north wing had fewer doors along either side, and the window at the end was covered by a plank of wood. The little man walked to the very tip of the wing and turned to a door on his left. The same room that had its windows opened. The man knocked and opened the door into the hall. Light streamed into the passage, and I hurriedly pressed myself against the wall to hide my presence. The man shuffled into the room and closed the door behind him.
I swallowed my fear and crept down the hall. No sound permeated the thick door of the room beyond. I pressed my ear against the thick wood, but still heard nothing.
Then the door moved. I hurried behind the door and huddled against the wall. The old man shuffled out, unladen with his burden of food and candle. He closed the door and returned the way he came. I had the choice to follow, but I desired to know whom he fed.
I crept up to the door and opened it a mere crack. The room was a large chamber, larger than those in the west wing, with a hearth piled high with burning logs. In front of the fire sat a chair with its back turned to the door and a small table at its side. The untouched platter sat atop the table. Shadows dance across the stone floor and walls, and revealed a large four-poster bed and dresser. I saw and heard nothing, but noticed something odd on the four-poster bed. The light glistened and revealed strange markings in the wood.
My sinful curiosity provoked me into entering the room. I stepped across the room and touched the posts. There were long claw marks in the thick wood. The sheets, too, were all a mess and torn to shreds. The pillows, formerly stuffed with goose fea
thers, were tossed onto the floor on either side of the bed.
"My father must be growing senile," a voice commented. I gasped and spun around in time to see a shadow of a person rise from the chair and turn to me. The figure had red eyes that glistened in the light of the fire. "He has sent me dinner when there is no full moon."
"I-I am very sorry. I did not mean to intrude," I stuttered. I felt my way down the bed and slipped towards the door. "I will leave immediately."
The man strode to the door and slammed it shut. I now had my first full glimpse of his countenance, and I found him to be devilishly handsome. He had shimmering black hair that was pulled behind him in a long tail. His face was narrow, but not pointed, and his high brow suited his bushy eyebrows. He wore a fine shirt of white satin, and the buttons of his white shirt glittered with diamonds. His pants were black, but he wore no shoes nor stockings. I thought he must have been cold walking the bare floors of the large, drafty room.
"I dislike repeating myself," he spoke up.
I started from my observation and curtsied. Here was a laird, or one who was near to a laird to have such lavish clothing. "Pardon me, sir, but I didn't hear the question."
"I asked you if you were sent here by my father," he repeated.
I blinked at him. "I would answer that, sir, if I knew who you were."
The young man raised an eyebrow and studied me for a moment. "I am the son of Laird Campbell, Tristan Campbell."
I shrank from my foolishness and hung my head. "Then no, my laird, I was not sent by your father, nor by anyone else."
His voice was soft, curious. There was no biting reprimand in his words. "Then how did come to be here?"
"I was curious, my laird. I heard there was no one in this wing, but saw an old man venture in this direction. I thought perhaps he was a thief hiding in the abandoned rooms," I explained.
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that what they tell everyone? Leod tells me little of the talk in the castle, and less outside of it," he commented.
"Yes, my laird," I answered.
He smiled and gestured to the seat at the fire. "Won't you join me for some talk? I am rather lonely here."