Morag's Tears (Celtic Storm Series Book 5) Page 10

  Only once did I seep to the past and I knew t’was a place I ne’er wished to return. I learned the past needed to stay where it was; exactly in the past. I think that when one learns of this maddening gift or skill or curse, call it what ye’ will, ye’ canna help but think ye’ can evade something bad from having happened. It was still when I was new to the manipulatin’ and I think because I was not careful with my thoughts, I went back, hopin’ to warn Ian of the dangers that awaited him that terrible night that he fought with Death.

  Nay, ye’ canna’ change what Destiny has declared Her own. I went back, I did. It was shortly after they brought my Ian’s body home and I felt the grief solidly planted in my heart. I went out to the Stones and closed my eyes, even as the tears ever leaked from them and I was angry. So verra’ angry! Angry with the Guardian’s; angry with the MacKenzies, angry with the MacCollums; angry even with the Christian God who was supposed to teach love and hope. I think I was even angry at that man I loved for gettin’ himself killed before our babe was born.

  Nay, there was no hope for me and so with my anger filling the place in my heart where Ian had dwelled, I went to stand in the midst of the Stones. My mind wandered back to the time just afore Ian left to seek vengeance on the MacKenzies with Gavin. I thought to tell him what was waitin’ for him. Within what seemed like seconds, I was standing in the field where my Ian rode, with his sword strapped to his back and determination set like flint in his face.

  I tried to run to warn him to go back; that he was goin’ to make me a widow if he ran his course. Only, what happened next forever changed me from tryin’ to go back in time again. Nay, I dunna’ mean returnin’ from the time ahead. I have always been blessed to return with nary a trouble. I mean the goin’ back to reverse what Destiny deemed Her right.

  As I landed in the meadow that night, the MacKenzies were rapidly approaching. They were out for blood, as were the MacCollums and the Campbells that were heart set to mete out their own brand of justice. I called out for Ian to stop. I wish I could say that he ne’er heard me; but alas he did. May the God of Love have mercy on my soul for what I have done! What I am about to confess, I have ne’er spoken to another living being….

  ~~~~~

  ~It had been three days since they brought the body of Ian MacCollum home to his young pregnant widow, Morag. The grief exploded upon her and many in the clan thought she would go mad from the weight of it. The Laird was filled with remorse for the young woman and so he made certain that she was not left alone for more than a few moments. She had cried her fill and then a frightening silence settled upon her. Some thought that was worse than her soul wrenching sobs. Her eyes were glassy and seemed to stare off into the distance at some unseen horror or at nothing in particular, no one could tell for sure. She had been the healer of the clan and now when she needed aid, there was no one about who could help her.

  Late one night, when the tiring woman sent to sit with Morag had fallen asleep, Morag quietly left the warmth of the cottage and ventured out into the newly fallen snow. The air was crisp and biting and she silently made her way to the standing stones tucked away in the glade. She knew what she had to do and her reckoning be damned. Twice before she had landed in some other moment in time and she had been told it was a gift granted by the Ancient Ones.

  Well, if it was a gift, then what better use for it than to warn her husband and possibly save him from the evil that awaited him. Morag knew she had to try. She was not certain she could get herself to the proper place or that she could even slide through time at all, what with the bairn growing inside her now. She worried that her crippling grief which was consuming her, would impair the landing into the past. She knew that she would give it her best and so as the waning moon light slanted across the massive primeval stones, Morag moved into position within their embrace.

  With head back, she appealed to the Lady that ruled the night’s sky and she stretched out her arms as she had done when she was a child, set as one to encircle those mighty giants that hugged around her. She put her grief aside, even if only for a moment or two, and she focused all thoughts to the field where Ian had lost his life. If she could get there before the MacKenzie warriors had a chance to do their dirty deed, she could warn Ian and all would be well. He would return to her not on a bier but on his own horse, to once again take his place as her husband and father of their child.

  Morag no longer felt the chill that pressed under her clothes. She felt a dizziness wash over her and had the strange feeling that she was falling. As her fingers clutched at the snow, the cold shock of it in her fingers forced her eyes opened. She could hear the sound of horses before her and as she tried to steady her trembling legs, men came into her line of sight. Not just any men, but Ian and some of the Campbells as well. Morag’s heart rose to her throat and it threatened to stop beating at the vision before her. She called out, “Ian…Stop!”

  As if by her will or whether he heard her cry, Ian turned toward her and a stricken look formed in his eyes. He muttered a dishonorable oath and he began to ride at a break-neck pace toward her. How in the hell did Morag get to the clearing where the MacKenzies were on their tails? He looked back and saw the riders were almost upon him and he pressed his horse to get to Morag, lest she be caught in the crossfire of the battle that was sure to begin.

  “Morag”, Ian screamed. It was the last word he would ever again speak.~

  I saw Ian look toward me and his surprise registered as he realized I was in the thick of the fray that was about to explode around me. I saw fear, then, in the eyes of the man who was as brave as a man could be. Fear was something Ian never gave in to, except when it came to me. He started to ride toward me, perhaps to take me out of harm’s way. I know not. None of the others had seen me and so when Ian’s horse turned, I think the MacKenzies believed it was a sign of weakness and cowardice.

  The rest happened so quickly, I barely had time to comprehend it all. I tried to shout my warning; and maybe I did, but it felt like my voice stuck in my throat. I cared not that I could have been killed. Nay, I would have gladly given my life to save Ian’s, but instead just the opposite happened. With his back to the fray, Ian rode toward me with a look of terror etched on his handsome face. And as my portent died on my lips, a back-stabbing MacKenzie’s sword ended Ian’s life right before my very eyes. The last thing I heard was my scream echoing in the glade and I fainted straight away. It was too much for me to see. It was too great a weight for me to bear.

  When I woke in the middle of the Stones, I knew I had been returned to the place I was before I tried to warn Ian of his death. And the reality of what I had done convicted me for all my remaining days. I knew then that t’was my fault that Ian was killed. Aye, t’was the MacKenzie’s sword that dealt the blow, but if I had nay gone to that field to warn Ian and to try to change the path already set by the hands of Fate, Ian may yet have lived. I will ne’er know if that trip back in time helped to lay Ian in the cold earth or not, but I knew from that moment that I would nay ever try to change what had already been set by the hands of Fate.

  I also knew I would never speak of it for there would be no forgiveness coming for me if others knew I had caused my husband, a son of the MacCollum clan, to die an untimely death. I deserved no pardon and I would have none. It was a secret I vowed to take to my grave, but as the years pull upon me and I yet live, I must unburden my heart that holds so heavy a regret. For this reason, I knew I owed it to Ian to see that his son be given every chance to live, even if I could nay be the one to care for him. It was my small attempt to right the terrible wrong that my carelessness brought to pass; the most unforgivable wrong a woman could do to a man.

  Ye’ may ask yerself how a woman can live with the price of her beloved husband on her head and truth be told livin’ was the last thing I wished to do. I certainly did nay wish to have to carry the pain and burden of it these many years, but I mustered to the task for I do believe that Ian somehow saved my life that day when I journ
eyed to the past. I could nay let his life be in vain. I knew I carried his bairn and so, despite the heaviness in my heart and the grief that never seemed to dull with the passing of time, I fought to live. Aye, I lived in spite of my guilt.

  I canna’ tell ye’ how it feels to tell this sad tale now. It was so long ago, I wonder if anyone still remembers what took place that day. I consoled myself as best I could with the thought that no one else saw me when I jumped back to the past. I waited for someone to accuse me, but no one ever did. I think that Gavin knew, though he never convicted me. I vaguely remember him riding behind Ian and I think he spotted me in harm’s way. But because I was pushed back to the present as quickly as I had sought the past, I canna’ be sure he witnessed my dance with the Fates. If he did, he ne’er said a word to me about it for he carried his own sense of guilt about the events of that terrible night. We nay spoke of it again but I believe we each bore the weight of Ian’s demise in our hearts.

  So as I try to explain the hows and whys of the manipulating of time, I only know that when I was needed in another time or I needed to move out of the present toward days that stretched ahead of me, I did. The Standing Stones had nay anything to do with it. There were no spells uttered or incantations chanted. There were no pleas and supplications to shunt me into the days of the future. I was either called or brought through the portals of time on my own wits, I suppose or by the very Powers that gave me the gift in the first place. To this day, I think I will ne’er unlock the mystery of it all and quite honestly, I am not certain I even want to try.

  What I have learned though, is this. I was nay alone in this gift nor was my time the only one where those like me were brought from. I chose nay to go back to any days of the past of my own volition, but there are those who can leap and who have chosen that path for themselves. When I used to think I was solitary in this misguided blessing, I was eventually to learn that way of thinking could not be further from the truth. There was one particular lass who touched my heart and she was from the time many centuries ahead. Mayhap she was even from the time I left Tavish in, I know not, for I dinna’ stay in that time long enough to discern the year and date. At any rate, Sinead MacDougal MacCollum, was such a girl. A girl like me, except she chose to dwell in the past and she chose to ne’er return to her own time.

  Chapter Sixteen – Sinead MacDougal and Jamie MacCollum

  When I had taken on the responsibility of helping Caleb MacCollum to raise his four sons and one daughter, I knew it was a responsibility nay to be taken lightly. I knew that all of those MacCollum children were destined to follow great paths. I knew that the eldest of Caleb’s sons was determined to lead the clan upon Caleb’s death, may the One God forbid it. Jamie MacCollum was Caleb’s first born son. He was a strong lad as a child and he grew to be a formidable presence within the clan.

  He also gave me a time or two that added to the graying of my hair, I must admit. To say he was mischievous would have been to say he had quite possibly found his true path in life. He loved to hoodwink me and his siblings. Yet, somehow, he grew out of the childish ways and became a man whose sense of honor and duty ruled his life. And he had a good business sense about him, braw Jamie did. Jamie excelled with the tending of the sheep and he also knew that the selling of the wool would profit the clan’s growing need for resources.

  Ah, he grew up to be quite handsome, as all of his brothers were, as well. The lassies could scarce keep from throwin’ themselves upon him, but for a time, it seemed Jamie had no heart for it. Aye, he was as good a flirt if ever there was one, but when it came to the idea of taking a wife of his own, he seemed to want no part of it. Funny how those who protest the loudest are the quickest ones to eat their words!

  So anyway, Jamie was growing the wool business for his clan and family and he was doing right well, he was. The resources for the clan was abundant and he spent as much time training in the lists as he did tending the lambs. I know not what he did, or how he did it, but the wool from the MacCollum flock was of the finest in the land. Jamie prided himself on that and he helped teach his brothers some of the trade for it. It lined the pockets of the clan with silver and we became known for the best fleece for cardin’ and weavin’ in much of the land.

  I know that Caleb wanted Jamie to lead the clan one day, but even that prospect did nay seem to appeal to young Jamie. He often said that Liam or Shawn would be better suited for that duty, but as the first born Jamie knew that eventually it would be his lot. He did nay worry overmuch about it, for Caleb was still a young enough man who was hale and stalwart, so Jamie took to his other more advantageous pursuits.

  Now I would be lyin’ if I were to say that Jamie did nay enjoy the company of ladies. Och, verily he did. As much as any of his brothers, to be certain! He just had no heart in the rearin’ of a family of his own. Well now, if I had a gold crown for every time I heard the grumblins’ of the MacCollum offspring about nay ever marryin’, I would nay only be an old woman, but a rich one at that.

  Well, it started out to be a day of peace and tranquility when we received word that the MacDougals were again raiding our lands and several of Jamie’s best ewes had been taken. Ruiri always had born the name of the one whose temper needed to be kept in check, but when someone dared to risk the lives of one of Jamie’s precious wooly wards, it was as if hell had loosed its horrid minions on the earth. Jamie’s normally cool and even nature was quickly abashed and he was dead set on seeking to meter out his own brand of MacCollum justice. He rode out that day to seek the MacDougal’s head on a platter, I am certain. I dunna’ know if the events that took place instead, that day, had not happened that Jamie would have come out the victor. Praise be to the Fates this time for I truly believe they stepped in and our dear Jamie was spared.

  Jamie was riding toward MacDougal territory with a few other men including his brother Liam. There was going to be hell to pay for the takin’ of those ewes and Jamie was prepared to claim the reckoning. Only, just as I had once appeared in the field where Ian met his end that day so long ago, a strange young woman stood to stop Jamie and his men.

  Startled by her presence, the envoy halted in their very spots. Jamie at first thought it was some sort of trick sent by the MacDougals to evade their retaliation, but the girl commanded that she knew who Jamie was. She was dressed in attire that Jamie had ne’er seen before. She claimed to know that Jamie’s life would end if he was hell bent upon the course of revenge for the MacDougals. She said she had read about the fray in a time much further in the future and something about the story pulled her to learn as much as she could about the Clan MacCollum. Jamie thought the woman was daft but he could nay leave her in the field that day so he brought her back to MacCollum Keep. I mean, really, what else could he do with her?

  She spoke as oddly as she was dressed and at first we all wondered if she was falling into some sort of fit of hysterics. Rather those present did. Soon they thought to fetch me so that I may help the woman with a draught to calm her. Och, I needed to only take one look at her to know what had happened. She was like me, only she was from a world much further on the Wheel of Ages. She manipulated time, she did, and she landed in a span that was centuries behind her own.

  Aye, by the time I arrived in the hall, the lass was in a full fit of hysterics. Who would nay be after such a terrifying journey to a world so different from her own? She had to be scared to death to find herself here. I daresay t’was the first time she had managed to do such a thing and she had no knowledge of how she came to be in a place and time with no means to send her back to where she belonged. I learned her name was Sinead MacDougal, but she was nay part of the clan that had raided the MacCollums; at least not as they were.

  Nay, she was somehow descended from the MacDougal line, which was why she had been reading up on her clan history. T’was there she learned of the fray that was to be between young Jamie and mayhap the MacDougal himself. Only, upon reading of the plight of Jamie MacCollum, Sinead MacDougal was intrigued
and suddenly her heart welled with the calling of the doomed man from another time; from a man who had been dead nearly six hundred or so years.

  What was it about Jamie that called to the girl through the centuries? She knew not, but she knew that he was nay supposed to die that day. So, somehow before she could even explain what had come to pass, Sinead MacDougal was hurled through time to stand before the verra’ man who had called to her through the pages of history.

  Oh, when Jamie learned she was a MacDougal, he thought for certain she had been planted as a ruse by the clan of men who had stolen his precious flock. He wanted the woman whipped for her part of the ruse. Aye, he was furious, to say the least. I had to try to make Jamie understand that this was not a woman from his rival clan. Nay, indeed! She was sent from a time we could not even dream about. Still, the mere mention of her name sent anger coursing through Jamie. T’would seem he could nay get past such a name. Only, what Jamie had long denied snared him like a rabbit in a trap. While he boasted to never be able to trust her, he was drawn to her. How could he not be? She was intriguing, smart, brave and above all else, she was beautiful. Ah, well, far be it for me to not aid the melding of two hearts. I can be such a romantic old fool, I suppose.

  I took to sitting with Sinead, for I needed to learn how she had found herself in this place and time. She was kindred to me and my kind by the verra’ act of her presence in my world, yet she was not of the Ancients. She was of a completely different era, where science and reason explained away that which could not be easily understood. Like me, Sinead MacDougal could nay tell how she came to manipulate time. She said when she sat reading the story, she just felt drawn to Jamie for in the telling of the tale, Jamie was going to meet his end. Something about that story tugged at her heart and soul. At first she thought she had fallen asleep reading that book and dreamed she had fallen back in time.