Highlander’s Bewitched Soul
Highlander’s Bewitched Soul
Olivia Kerr
Contents
A Free Thank You Gift
About the book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Afterword
Highlander’s Road to Destiny
Prelude
Prologue
A Free Thank You Gift
A Free Thank You Gift
Thank you for purchasing my book!
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As a thank you gift I wrote a novel for you called “Highland Redemption.”
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About the book
To free her from her bonds, he will have to risk the fate of his people.
* * *
Isla finds it hard to remember a point in time when she felt happy.
After being taken under the wing of David, an elder clansman, to learn about healing through herbs, she has slowly but surely become his prisoner.
* * *
David tries to convince everyone that Isla can heal people because of her divine nature and not because of her knowledge and that she can even predict the future, making her a powerful weapon for any army!
* * *
David wants to put Isla’s powers at the disposal of Laird Mckenzie, his leader, in order for them to prevail over the Englishmen they so despise. Everyone in the Scottish camp seems to like the idea besides Cameron McKenzie, the son of Laird McKenzie.
* * *
Cameron is a strong man, and despite his youth, he is already a great leader who does not believe in superstition and prophesies. He would never let the fate of his troops be determined by predictions that do not come from reason, and the only thing he acknowledges about Isla is that she is beautiful beyond anything he has ever seen before.
* * *
Isla has a mysterious way to prove herself repeatedly as she appears to be able to heal the men and foresee the future… But as Cameron begins to meet her, he realizes she is just a young girl trapped in pain, and the only magic power she possesses is the power to capture his soul and mind.
* * *
Cameron desperately wants to help her, but he can not be sure if her feelings for him are pure or just another one of her tricks.
But the horrors of reality exceed his worst speculations, and Cameron does not realize that while saving Isla, he drags him and his people into doom …
Prologue
Scottish Highlands.
Early 1300’s
Last night was worse than usual.
Isla could not sleep at all as she knew David was up to something. He was acting strange. She spent the night thinking how she brought herself to the current situation...
Isla had always had an interest in medicine. Whenever the midwives or healers came around, she would follow them in the shadows, fascinated by everything they said or did. She tried to absorb as much knowledge as she could. She experimented with herbs on her own and had found that some herbs helped you sleep and others helped your stomach heal.
Her mother told her that it was useless, that girls like her did not become anything but peasant wives. She grew up with barely any money, and almost no one in the village had any knowledge on the subject.
Isla had always been different. She seemed to watch everything, and it wasn’t long before she started curing what seemed like impossible situations. Her parents never said a word, but still, the news spread through the area that she had learned more than just healing by watching everything. The news spread that she used witchcraft; that she was a pagan who walked on the dark side of religion more than the light.
Isla never cared what the townsfolk said. She had once argued that it didn’t matter what she used, as long as folks were healed. However, that argument led to those around her shrinking back, and she often found herself alone. She didn’t mind being alone, except for the moments when she realized there was far more to learn than the knowledge she had gained. She needed a teacher and guidance.
Isla had thought that David was all those things. David was an elder clansman, who had long been regarded for his skills, which were very similar to hers. Of Course he had known all these things from healers and David could also read. Something Isla always thought was a path to new knowledge that no one in her small village seemed to appreciate.
When David heard of her he offered to take her close to him. She had thought that his offer of guidance was one that would change her life, and in many ways, she was not wrong.
David took her on as his ward. They traveled the countryside learning of herbs, offering healing services, and accepting payment wherever they worked. Isla never saw a single coin, however, because David kept it all, in exchange for her room and board. David said that their supplies were expensive and that the medicine Isla needed for her own health was also expensive. He took care of her, but she was never allowed more than half of a mile from him. If she disobeyed, then her punishment would be severe. She had tried once or twice to escape, especially as she reached adulthood, and each time, he made her regret her every breath.
Isla’s heart was heavy with the chains David put on her movements, but most days, she tried not to think about it. He told others that she was a witch, and she wondered whether it was true. She had never met anyone who could do what she did, and she had never met anyone whose whispered prayers for healing came true as often as hers. She did not know what to make of it, but she did know that she was helping people, and so that should be all that mattered.
But last night was worse that the rest of them… Isla could clearly see the change in David’s behavior and that deeply worried her.
They were camping near one of the Scots armies, and while she was aware that there was a war going on, she hardly saw the troops. The bloody battle against the Brits for the throne after King Alexander II died without a living heir seemed far away from her life healing sick children and taking fevers away from elders. She prayed every night for the soldiers, but that was the only time the war entered her mind.
She saw peppermint growing at the edge of the field that she was walking on, and she began to walk towards it. Peppermint was one of her favorite herbs, and she always seemed to be running out of it. She crouched down, brushing away a few bugs, and began to pick it. She had brought her larger bag today, and she hoped it would be full by midday so she could start the drying process.
Isla was lost in her thoughts, but she suddenly felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She turned around with a start and saw David standing there.
Even in his old age, he was an imposing figure. He had long dreadlocks, down to his waist, and several earrings in his ears. He had a scar across his face and one eye that did not work. Isla did not know how old he was, but she had a feeling that he had seen more than most.
“Are you finished?” he asked her, as he eyed her bag.
“No,” she said, trying not to show any disrespect. “I have just begun. There are many herbs in these parts and I would like—”
“You’ll have to fill your supplies somewhere else,” he said. “We h
ave a journey to make.”
“A journey? Where?” she asked.
“Down the hill,” he replied. “Our time has come.”
Isla was terrified to ask what that meant, for she knew it could mean a wide range of terrifying things. David could have finally decided that he was finished with her, or he could have decided that they were to throw themselves into the river to appease the gods. Every day with his half-broken mind was terrifying to Isla, and she often found herself listening to him simply out of fear rather than logic.
She didn’t say anything and he snapped his fingers at her.
“Come, girl,” he said. Isla knew better than to argue. She stood up and took one last handful of peppermint with her as she followed him across the field. Her silver locks fell over her face, and she brushed her hair back in order to keep an eye on her footing. The grass was tall and she did not want to fall in one of the many animal holes that littered the field.
Her hair had been silver for as long as she could remember. David said that it pleased the gods, and so she submitted to the oyster dye every few weeks. People stared at her whenever she went, and she tried to keep her soulful eyes on the ground, for fear they would shrink away. No one was kind to her, especially when they saw her in daylight. She thought that maybe, if she did not have silver hair, and was not clad in pagan symbols, or was not beautiful, someone might have shown her kindness a long time ago and rescued her from this life she thought she wanted. She had heard so many stories of maidens who were blessed with beauty, but Isla did not think her beauty was a blessing. She was certain that it was a curse, for it made others stare and whisper, but not assist her. She wished for scars like David so that she would at least not be desirable.
Men stared more than women, and it was men that she feared in the darkness when she walked alone. Men had caused her to hate her own skin, and men had hurt her when she had tried to pull away. She was certain that she would never be one of those beautiful maidens who fell in love and was swept away by a prince. Those were just stories, written by bards for entertainment, and she knew they would never be her path.
“David,” she said, softly, as they walked. “Is someone ill?”
“No, not yet,” he said, “but I have had a vision.”
“A vision?” she asked. He often had visions, and what terrified her about them was that most of them seemed to come true. She had visions too, but they were hazy and never clear. She wondered if she was just unskilled in interrupting dreams, or whether her visions were just not as powerful as David’s. David always had people believe that he had some unnatural power and Isla knew that was not true. He tried to convince everyone that Isla had them too. “What did you see?”
“Three days ago,” he said, “I saw a great man on horseback come to us. He was a clan leader, and his army was almost strong enough to lead the Scots to victory.”
“Do you know who he is?”
“I did not know at the time,” he replied. “But I know now.”
“Who is he?” she asked, as she narrowly avoided an animal's den.
“Him,” David said, and pointed across the field. Now that they had come around a corner, Isla could see exactly who he was speaking of. There was an army below, and in the midst of them, a man on horseback that looked even more frightening than David himself. His flaming red hair blew in the breeze, and his great beard was as red as his hair. He was older, perhaps in his forties, and Isla had a sudden flash that this was the last battle the man would ever see. She felt shivers go down her spine as they approached. He looked very large; partly because he was on horseback, and partly because he was incredibly tall. He looked down on Isla, and it took every bit of courage she had to try and not shrink back.
“This is her?” he asked David, who nodded.
“Isla will save you,” he said. Isla turned to David in confusion.
That explained David’s unease.
What kind of saving was he speaking of? Were the men in the camp sick? Was she meant to spend the night with this terrifying man? Did she have to sacrifice something to appease the gods? All of these things were things that she had done before, and there was no way to figure out which one David was referring to.
“You’re so tiny, lass,” the man said.
Isla looked up at him carefully. “I am at your service,” she said, quietly.
“Good,” the man said, “because this war has gone on far too long. My plans will lead us to victory, but the help of the gods will make it easier.”
“The gods have always been on Isla’s side,” David said with a smile. “If you were a god, would you not look down and favor her?”
“Indeed I would,” the man said. “You will go to Cameron’s battalion. He and his commanders are the ones that will lead the attack.”
“Where is he?” Isla spoke up. David shot her a look and she knew she had made a mistake in speaking. “My apologies. I just wondered—”
“Do you have somewhere else to be, lass?”
“No,” Isla said, quickly.
“We will attend wherever you need us,” David said. “Isla is at your disposal, no matter what your wish.”
“I see,” the red-haired man said, and a wide smile stretched over his teeth. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to see what else I come up with.”
“When will you have us set off?” David asked.
“When the sun rises,” the man said. “Tonight we will plan and then you will go to Cameron’s battalion. You should reach there by midday if he is where I predict. And you are sure this will win the battle?”
“I promise that will be the case,” David said, with a wide smile. “We appreciate your donation to our cause.”
“The donation will be much larger if you succeed,” the man said. “While I am a believer in the old gods, you might have more trouble with the other battalion.”
“It is no trouble,” David replied. “If they do not believe now, they will soon.”
“Wonderful,” he said, while gazing at Isla. She resisted the urge to step back again, in fear. She didn’t know what the next day would bring, but she had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good.
What had David promised them?
1
What a blessed day.
That was Cameron’s first thought when he stepped outside the tent. It was still early, and the sun had not yet really risen. Still, the morning air was calm and cool, and he felt refreshed as the breeze made his long blonde hair wave. He looked forward to a beautiful day, blessed with God’s presence.
It had taken Cameron a long time to learn to sleep in a tent, after living a life of mostly luxury in his father’s house. He was used to having servants and a peaceful garden to walk in. But as he grew up, it became clear that the peaceful life he was starting to crave would not be able to last. First, King Alexander lost his youngest son, and then his daughter. With only one heir left, everyone held their breath. But when Prince Alexander perished as well, the countryside knew that they would not be able to hold the throne. The old king died and the battle for the throne began. Eventually, King Edward of England decided to make a claim, and the laird began to rebel. One by one, they mustered an army and fought the British troops that were advancing on their land.
Cameron’s father, Laird McKenzie, had tried to stay out of it as long as he could. He had seen war before and he was not interested in returning to the battlefield. But as Cameron watched, and the war raged on, his father started to regain some of his own strength, and he began to rise to the challenge that the other lairds had already heard the call of. He mustered an army, and Cameron soon found himself as commander of a secondary battalion. His father’s reach was wide, and the two battalions were one of the most powerful in the entire kingdom.
Before he left for war, Cameron hadn’t bothered to tell his father that this was not the life he wanted for himself. His father would not listen to him, even if they were at peace. Cameron wanted a peaceful life. He was certain he would break his father's hea
rt when he announced that he did not want to marry; nor did he want to produce heirs. Cameron’s solace and happiness came from the Bible—the book a growing number of Scots were embracing. The pagan ways were starting to die, and Cameron found the story of Jesus Christ so compelling that he knew it must be true.
The Danes that came from a land across the seas and killed and murdered were pagan. He never fought them but the English had and the tales of their brutal ways had spread. Cameron knew that he was totally different from them. Compassion was the way forward not killing. Cameron was fighting to ensure peace and freedom for his people, not wealth or glory.
There were battles in the Bible, and he believed that a Scottish heir had the right to the Scottish throne, not a British one. The kings and princes had a divine right to rule, and Cameron believed that he was doing God’s work in fighting for the right to keep a Scottish heir on the throne.
Leading an army was something that he had no experience in. As a boy, he had read stories of great battles, and he learned how to fight. But commanding was something else.
He tried to be the best commander he could possibly be. Almost all his men were baptised but half of them were still more pagan than Christian in the way they behaved.