Page 2 of Trapped Under His Highland Spell

“Did they fight more?” Niall asked, finding it impossible to hide the disappointment from his face.

“Oh aye, although nae in the way ye might think. They emerged from Drameg Way and told everyone that the beast had been slain and that it was safe for travel. But something had happened during that battle, something that changed Jeralt. He realized that killing wasnae gaeing tae bring him peace or a sense of fulfillment. He had been traveling all across the Highlands looking for…for something, but he haed never haed any idea of what that was until he met Shamir.

There was something about that woman that stoked a fire in his soul, sae he asked her tae stay. She had seen something in him as well, sae she did stay. Because of their heroics, they were given some land as a reward, and they ended up settling there. Since Jeralt had abandoned his family name a long time ago, he took Shamir’s, and they became the first settlers of the Calbraith clan.”

Grizel wore a satisfied smile on her face as the children realized that the story was actually about them, about their lineage. “And if ye look over there, ye will see the swords they had.” Grizel pointed with a trembling finger to the wall, upon which two swords hung. Niall rose and walked over to the display, admiring the old blades. One of them was long and thick, while the other was smaller and more elegant, but both were powerful, and the sight of them conjured feelings of awe.

“Tell us another story!” Niall whipped his head around moved through the other relics that had been gathered over the years. Each one of them had a story, and Grizel was proud of her collection, although most people mocked her and thought these things were nothing more than trinkets that should have been tossed away a long time ago. If they had their way, Grizel would be tossed away along with them.

“I’m sure I can think of a few more,” Grizel said. Her mind was alive with stories of heroes and beasts, of myths and legends. Stories were what connected them with the past and what built the bridge to the future, and to her, they were the most important things in her mind. They were her most precious possessions, and nothing could ever take them away from her.

But just as she was settling down to tell another tale, the door to the room opened, and Laird Hamish Calbraith stood there, looking every inch like a hero of old. Whenever Grizel looked at father and son, she was certain that in Hamish she saw Niall’s future, and this worried her.

“Come on ye three, ye hae spent enough time here. Grizel, I hope ye hae nae been filling their heads with yer silly stories,” Hamish said harshly. His features were as jagged as a mountainside, and every movement was imbued with his strength. He snapped his fingers, beckoning his children to his side. No doubt he had some kind of training or something for them to prepare for.

“They’re nae silly!” Isobel protested. “Grizel tells us all kinds of stories about magic and monsters.” Grizel smiled at the kindness of the girl, but Hamish sighed and shook his head.

“I knew it was a mistake tae let ye spend tae much time here. I dinnae mind ye amusing yerselves with a wee story now and then, but there’s no truth tae them. There’s no such thing as magic, and as for monsters, well, there are none like the ones Grizel describes. Ye should know better than tae believe everything ye hear,” he said. Grizel noticed the scornful look he gave to the artifacts she had collected over the years.

“Yeah, they’re just stories,” Niall said, rising to stand like his father. Grizel felt her heart break. She had never had children of her own and hoped that she might have had a positive influence on the laird’s children, but it seemed as though some people were destined to walk a path they could not escape from. Isobel protested again, while Jamie declared that he wanted to grow up big and strong, just like the heroes in the stories. But it was Niall who Grizel was most worried about.

He was the one who was going to be laird. He was the one who was going to define the next generation, and if he didn’t believe her, then the stories of magic were always going to be dismissed.

“I wouldnae be sae dismissive, Niall. I hae seen unexplainable things, and if ye open yer eyes, ye will see them tae. I hae nae even told ye about the creature that lives in the loch—” she began, hoping to tempt Niall back with the promise of another story about another strange creature, but Hamish put an end to any hope of that. The laird walked into the room and placed his hands on Niall’s shoulders.

“That will hae tae wait for another day. Niall haes more important matters tae attend tae rather than being distracted by these stories,” he spoke dismissively, as though nothing in Grizel’s life mattered at all.

The children left, and she was left alone with her artifacts. In her heart, she knew that all the stories were real and that magic was real, but if the same wonder did not take hold in Niall’s heart, then the future was doomed. She hoped that Niall would heed her warnings and not become exactly like his father.

1

Fourteen years later…

Moira Monroe awoke early as she often did, always wanting to make the most of the day. She greeted the fresh morning air with a deep breath and made her way down to the kitchen, gazing out at the fields that were glistening with morning dew. There was something so wonderful about the morning, so fresh and exciting, as if the day held the possibility for anything to happen. She was twenty, with blue eyes and short, fiery red hair. She was of average height and had a slender build, and a happy and charming disposition.

To anyone who met her, they would not immediately understand how her life had been defined by tragedy. At a young age, she had stood by her brother as they watched their father be killed in a battle outside their keep. Then there had been a dastardly plot by her uncle to try and kill her brother, Marcas. He had actually been in league with her mother, who had died by taking poison that was meant for Marcas. Her uncle Roderick had tried to take the position of laird for himself, but in the end, his plans had been foiled by Marcas’s wife, Kirsten.

There were times when Moira was plagued with guilt. Roderick had planned things so that it would appear as though Kirsten had poisoned Marcas. Moira had doubted that she would ever be capable of such a thing as they had become firm friends almost instantly upon meeting, and yet the way things seemed, Moira felt as though she should have been more trusting and done more to help Kirsten.

Thankfully everything had turned out for the best. Kirsten and Marcas had married while Roderick had been sent into exile. Kirsten gave birth to two wonderful children, Gregor and Lileas, and Moira was a devoted aunt to both of them.

“Would ye like some tea?” Caitriona asked, interrupting Moira’s thoughts.

Moira chuckled a little and shook her head. “After all the problems tea haes caused our family, I cannae stomach the idea of drinking any! But I would like some plain water, please.”

Caitriona smiled and resumed her chores. She used to be a simple kitchen maid, but once Kirsten had taken her position as lady of the clan, she gave Caitriona more responsibility, and now she ran the whole kitchen. “Ye look like there is something on yer mind,” Caitriona said.

“Oh, well, there always is, I suppose. I was thinking about what I’m gaeing tae dae with Gregor and Lileas later taeday, and just how peaceful the world is. All that trouble, it feels sae long ago now.”

“Aye, and we’re all the better for it,” Caitriona agreed.

“I just wonder if it can really last. Perhaps I’m being silly and I should just take joy in the fact that we hae a happy home. But I cannae shake the feeling that something bad is waiting for us.”

“I think ye are worrying tae much. Just because bad things happened in the past doesnae mean they’re gaeing tae happen in the future. Ye seem happy enough with the way things are; ye should just enjoy life rather than worrying about it,” Caitriona said. It was simple wisdom, but that didn’t make it any less true.

Moira sipped her water and breathed in deeply. It had taken a long time for things to feel right within the Monroe clan, but gradually they had improved to a point where Moira felt assured of her place in the world.

She was twenty now and was quite content with being an aunt and being able to watch Gregor and Lileas grow up into fine young people. She was surrounded by beauty and braying animals, and in Kirsten, she had a friend who was like the sister she had never had.