When Fate Dictates Read Free Page B

was
a still, clear morning and the warmth of the sun was a welcome
gift. The snow glistened and crunched beneath our feet like a bed
of shattered crystals and tiny drops of water fell from the long,
clear icicles that hung from the trees.
    It didn’t take us long to find a stream of
water. There were several inches of ice and snow to clear from the
top of the stream before the running water was exposed. Mr.
Campbell removed his dirk from his belt and stabbed purposefully at
the cap of ice, chiseling a hole in its surface large enough to fit
his hands through. He plunged his fists through the gap, filling
his hands with icy water, and then splashed it liberally over his
head. Dripping wet, he shook his head fiercely. His long, black
curls swung wildly as the ice cold water sprayed off his hair.
Cautiously, I dipped one hand into the exposed stream and let out a
whimpered wail of shock as the ice cold water engulfed my hand. A
small pool of crystal clear water lay in my palm and I looked down
at it tentatively. I raised my hand and splashed the water onto my
face. My cheeks stung like fire as the water hit me. I turned to
see him watching me. His face held a slight frown as he raised his
hand to his head, rubbing it roughly through the mass of long wet
curls.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked. He shook his head
slowly and the curls of his long black hair swung freely around his
face.
    “Nothing, nothing at all, now, do you feel
better?” he asked, changing the subject.
    “Yes Mr. Campbell, thank you,” I replied,
rubbing my hands together in an attempt to warm them.
    “Shall we go?” he asked, taking my hand and
tucking it under his arm for warmth.
    The top of my head barely reached the wide
expanse of his broad shoulders, as I stood dwarfed beside him.
    “Aye, I suppose we should,” I responded
reluctantly.
    “I must go back into the village, lass; there
are things I need to do there. Do you want to come with me, or
would you prefer me to take you back to the crevice? It won’t be an
easy thing for you to go back, I know.”
    “No, Mr. Campbell, I want to go back, I too
have things I must do there. Do you think it is safe?” I asked.
    “Aye, I dare say it will be, I don’t expect
to find the army still there, but we ought to be careful
nonetheless.”
    “What makes you think they will be gone Mr.
Campbell?”
    “Well I don’t know for sure, but I do know
that they brought their empty wagons into the glen and when they
left the wagons were full. They have taken the cattle already, so
there is no other business for them here.”
    We headed back toward the path to the
village, cautiously and acutely aware of every unfamiliar sound. We
were silent for much of the journey, the only sound to be heard
being that of the ravens as they squawked ominously over the
bloodied bodies of the dead.
    “I need to find my grandmother and see her
buried,” I blurted, conscious of the erratic nature and high pitch
of my voice.
    He nodded. “Aye, lass, that you must do.”
    I stumbled down the track, coming ever closer
to the place of my birth. The bile rose inside me, burning my
throat, just as the smoke had done that morning. I could see the
blackened remains of my home and felt myself running frantically
toward it, crying out for my grandmother as I did. The roof had
collapsed, making it almost impossible to identify individual
objects amongst the charred remnants. Sobbing hysterically, my
knees buckled and I fell to the ground.
    “Christ!” he muttered in exclamation. “May
the Lord have mercy on us all.” A shiver passed through him as he
glanced once more over the derelict ruins of the cottage, his eyes
surveying the filthy mess of slaughter. He filled his lungs with a
quick, deep breath and rubbed his hands roughly through his hair,
he watched as the grief tore deeper through my consciousness.
    I felt his arms around me, dragging me away.
I fought wildly with him, flaying my arms frantically; my body
shook violently as