Christopher Leadem

“ She uttered a scream, and Anne Scott burst into the room, followed by her brother.
And she did not die, but was taken away. And the child taken from her, forever. The light went out in her soul, and the softness of her heart. . . her youth was gone.
And then she was old and dry, alone in a smoky hut, gnawing on the ends of schemes. Alone in ruin, alone with Death.
But somewhere a door was opened, and in walked the babe, grown to woman. And though she tried not to love her it was in vain: her own Mary, conceived in broken love, the lost treasure of her heart. ”

“ The Lord Purceville found himself alone, on the bed that he had made, his eyes as dry as the desert of his life, the hateful emptiness of the present. It was pointless: to look for meaning in a world where none existed, to search for reason among the airless stones of a ruined temple. He had never known such bitterness.
There was nothing left. Nothing but to destroy his enemies, and live out his life in defiance, unvanquished and unawed. The soft light that had tried to suffuse his soul, was snuffed out like an insolent candle in ancient and unchangeable darkness. ”

“ There was silence. And then, without prompting, the young woman knew that the time had come to tell her tale. The spirits of the Night, and the shadows of Fear, must not be allowed to dwell inside her, but must be held forth in the hard light of day. She was afraid, and many times in the telling felt the pain of it too great to bear. But as Michael had done in the hearing of a wise man of the sea, so Mary now poured out the cup of her grief, not asking for pity, or answers, but only speaking the words that would not lie still. ”

“ Mary,
I love you. Forgive
Anne Scott moved closer, and took the forlorn head to her shoulder. Mary did not resist. She only wept, unable for a time to speak.
“But, if I do not avenge her. . .then her story is truly ended. She lived, and died, for nothing. Oh, it is too terrible.”
“No, Mary. Her life, and broken love, brought about your life, and a love that is real. You must never forget that.” The widow paused, understanding at last.
“Listen to me, girl. You carry a part of her in yourself: in your flesh, and in your seed. The story never ends, it only changes characters. ”

“ He held a ring of keys, as Ballard had, and like him forced the lock. The doorway opened and a woman no longer young, but still fair and far from old, sat up in the ghostly bed and wrapped the coverlet about her. And the form of light and darkness was no longer behind her, because it was she, her mother in the bed.
The Lord Purceville took her hard by the wrists, and dared her to scream. But no such sound came, and it puzzled him. Something like love shone in the deep and pleading blue eyes. And pain and pain and pain, because she knew it all before. Yet again the tragedy must be played. ”

“ Mary answered simply, without emotion. “I am watching the fire die. Like a human life, no matter how many times it is built up, the end is always the same. And when the will to feed it is gone, there is death.” With this she turned slowly towards her mother, adding with grim satisfaction. “Yes. At least there is Death.” Then she turned away again, the faint smile dissolving into the stone coldness of her face.
The witch spent the whole of that first day, and much of the second, reading through her books of lore, trying to find some spell or charm that would cure her daughter’s malady. ”

“ The pitiful nod and freshened weeping told her she was right. “Nay, lass. It was not the hand of God that killed him, and many other good men besides. It is not the Creator who so brutalizes lives and emotions. It is men.”
And with this all her maternal softness faded, as her eyes stared hard and dry into some galling distance of thought and memory. Her arms fell away from her daughter’s shoulders, and she unconsciously ground her teeth.
Mary, who had seen none of this, raised her head and wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling something like a pang of conscience. ”

“ The Lord Purceville leaned back heavily against the cold stone wall, eyes wide with a fear that was altogether new to him. His own breathing as they reached the upper stories had become tight and irregular; and now, though nearly twenty minutes had elapsed, his chest had still not relented its angry rebellion at such use.
For he was no longer young, and his body’s weight had begun to overmatch the inherent strength of his limbs and heart. And this same heart, which had served him so long and so well as to be all but forgotten, now labored heavily to compensate. ”

“ I tell you now, if you did not already know it, that you have been my beacon and guiding star, the hope which I held fast to my heart, when all others deserted me. I love you, Mary, with every drop of my mortal blood. I’ll love you in this world, and if there is a God, then surely I will love you in the next. ”

“ The mind creates worlds of its own, every bit as tangible, and every bit as dangerous, as the physical reality we all share. Give up your common sense, your right to question, and you become a helpless lamb among the wolves of this world.”
“Yes,” said Mary. “Now it all seems so clear. The trunk filled with charms, the talismans to drive away your spirit, the spell my mother believes she cast over Stephen Purceville: all but the fabric of illusion, given substance by the wholly independent actions of men. I, too, have no more need of such miracles.”
“But,” said Michael firmly. ”

“ But what ailed the girl was not the work of witchcraft, and there was nothing in her mother’s books or box of talismans that would move or affect her in the least. What the old woman could not see, because it was too close to her own experience, was that Mary had given herself heart and soul to a man she could never have, the only man that she would ever love; and without him all life seemed but a mockery of hope. There was no longer any reason to live, nor did she wish to find one. ”

“ A human finger.
The amulet about her neck was a raven’s foot, clutching in frozen death a dark opal.
Many hours later the old woman had still not returned to the cottage. Mary sat with her elbows upon the sill of the loft window, the rage of thoughts and questions inside her gradually slowing to the one emotion possible in one who had seen and known such endless disappointment: disbelief. ”

“ The night was still and cold as she stole from the hut, with traces of ghostly mist already forming in the hollows. The moon shone full and hard, dimming the surrounding stars with its halo of pale white.
She made for the Standing Stone, as dry as bone, where the power was strongest, older than the hills themselves. She felt that she moved not of her own accord, but as a puppet upon the strings of some higher (or lower) being. ”

“ Was it to see the Lord Purceville establish his thieving court at the ancestral home of the MacPhersons? Was it to pay hard tribute in grain and goods which could not be spared, to an Empire already bloated and corrupt?
None felt the pangs of lost promise more deeply than young Mary Scott, aged sixteen years, with a future as uncertain as the fretting October wind. Her father had died before she could say his name, leaving their estate in the keeping of guardians until Michael came of age. ”

“ Though she was in fact tired and morose, and beginning to feel again the ache of her affliction, Mary sensed that now or never would she learn the whole truth. She must show this woman that she too could be strong, and was not afraid of dark reality.
The widow MacCain looked hard at her, trying to gauge the depth, and source, of her daughter’s desire to know. But at the same time she felt the slow stirrings of concerned motherhood, and at that not the detached, objective instincts of a guardian, the role she had been forced to assume, and grown accustomed to these many years. ”

“ The Standing Stone was just that, an uncarved granite tusk, thrusting up from a high shelf which overlooked the ravine. She approached it slowly, her senses returning. It did not need the reading of ancient lore to make her stand in awe of it, or believe in its dark powers. For this was a place known throughout the countryside, to be wondered at by day, religiously avoided by night. It was said that the ghosts of William Wallace and Mary Stuart could be summoned here by those possessed of the black arts, as well as murdered warriors and chieftains from the grim, violent times before memory. ”

“ To the left she heard the stirring sound of bagpipes, to the right, the ominous drums and steady tramp of the English. Two armies advanced upon each other, making for some indefinable object in the center of the field, which for some reason both sides wanted. To the left the plaid kilts and mixed uniforms of the Highlanders, to the right a rigid, regimented sea of Red. She watched them draw together with the uncomprehending horror that every woman feels for war, unmoved by words of glory and patriotism, understanding only that men, men dear to herself and others, are about to die. ”

“ Mary looked hard at him, disconcerted. She had been ready to pour out the crucible of her wrath upon him, and at the slightest mockery, to rush forward and scratch out his eyes. But he only remained before her, unmoved and unmovable, with no apparent effort refuting her every grievance. Worst of all, his words held the power of a twisted truth.
“You have an answer for everything. That doesn’t make you right. In the eyes of God---”
“God?” he sneered, as if the very thought were offensive. “You have reached young womanhood and still not seen through that, the cruelest and emptiest of farces? ”

“ The woman’s gaze returned.
“Ah, life is hard, girl. Someday I’ll speak of the roads that brought me here, but not now.” She rose as if to say no more, then turned to the girl, so young, with the only words of comfort she could find. But at that they were not gentle, were not the words of hope.
“You must learn from the trees, Mary. A lightning bolt, a cruel axe, cleaves a trunk nearly to the root, and the oak writhes in agony. But it does not die. It continues. ”

“ Pure, blind hatred rose up inside him, devouring all else. He seized her by the shoulders, and with the heat of the primal hunger, turned her towards him. If love would not be gratified, then he would at least have lust. For the second time that day, Mary looked into the unseeing eyes of rape. Terror was no longer possible. All she could feel was despair, and pity. This would be the final, unbearable shame for them both.
“Stephen, I beg you. In the name of what you once felt for me, and I for you. Don’t do this. Forgive my hard words. I do not hate you. But this..... This can never be.” ”

“ Nothing else matters, in all the world. And so help me, Stephen, I’m terrified. I speak of faith, and yet I do not feel it. Getting Mary safely away is everything. Everything. If I fail, or injure her in the attempt, my own life is less than meaningless. My life must end.....”
Then it was he who stiffened in defiance. “But God or no God, I will have her out. With all my soul I swear it. She will be freed.”
Stephen studied him, both stirred and bewildered. “Who are you?”
Michael, too, hesitated at the truth. It could forge a bond between them, or destroy everything. ”

“ Mary held up the slender blade that the witch had sewn into a fold of her dress, then forgotten.
“Surely that, of itself, would not kill a man.”
“Human excrement makes a very effective blood poison.” All said evenly, without emotion or remorse, without living movement of any kind.
... “Mary. Your mother left something for you.” At this she turned, like a sleepwalker disturbed by the calling of her true name. “Stephen brought me this note. Her dying words.”
“A forgery,” she stammered, “meant to dissuade me.”
“No,” said Anne Scott firmly. ”

“ But I refuse to hate you. I refuse to stoop so low, to believe in so little, to sell my honor and my hope for that bastard emotion. There is no greater defiance than that.
“Think! Have you never loved someone you should have hated? Or held on to something you were told you must surrender? We share the same needs, the worst of us, as we share the same flesh. Stephen. You and I, we’ve got to trust each other. We’ve got to get them out.”
“While you hold the gun, and I dig the grave?”
“No.” Michael opened his coat, and tucked the pistol once more beneath his belt. ”

“ The words on the small tombstone had always seemed to her a blasphemy, the hurried cutters finding it more important to speak of patriotism than to give the date of his birth. These trite, inadequate words were all that future generations would ever know of him. They could never see him as he had been in life---the shock of curling, golden hair, the fierce and penetrating sapphire eyes. He had been strong and stubborn like all his blood, but with a sudden tenderness that had long ago stolen her heart. ”

“ Her slow-awakened courage, pushed to its final need, became galvanized at the last, not a momentary surge, to be swept away as soon as anger left her, but a permanent foundation, underlying all. The will to live, and to resist the evil that would snuff out that life, rose so strong in her that it was all she could do not to cry out in rage. ”

“ And while losing his seat as Governor was not a literal matter of life and death, to the aged and slowly despairing Lord Purceville, the two amounted to one and the same thing.
For no man is so strong that he can hold off forever the grim whisperings of age. His power and station were all that remained to him, a last shield of illusion, which so narrowly blocked out the sureness and finality of Death. ”

“ Her friend, brother and father. And in the most secret depths of her heart, her lover as well.
One image of him remained indelibly carved in her memory.
He stood silhouetted against the open door of the shepherd’s hut, in which they had taken shelter from a sudden, violent downpour. The play of lightnings beyond flashed his tall, muscular form into brilliant lines out of the grey. He stood defiant, legs spread, crying out to the storm that lashed him. Aye! It’ll take more than that to kill a Scott! And he had laughed his fearless laugh.
“Michael don’t, I’m scared,” she said aloud. ”