Page 11 of Once Upon a Haunted Horn and Hoof

“My brathair and I were naught but commoners until I married Cam MacKeefe, and their chieftain allowed Keithen into the clan as well.”

“So, he’s no’ a warrior then?”

“Nay. I was the wife of a chandler, and Keithen owned a tavern close to Hermitage Castle.”

“I see,” said Lorna, knowing her father wouldn’t be happy about this. “So, Callum MacKeefe deceived my da, by makin’ the alliance.”

“Nay! Never. I’m sure it just never came up, or Callum would have told him. This marriage is important. For peace between yer clans. Please, dinna let this change yer mind about my brathair.”

“Where is Keithen now?” she asked.

“I—I’m no’ sure,” said Yvaine.

Through the open window, Lorna heard voices and the sound of a snorting horse. She walked over and looked out to see Keithen mounting a horse, talking to his friends.

“Excuse me,” said Lorna. “I want to catch up with yer brathair.” She ran out the door, exiting through the kitchen to avoid her guards, who were in the tavern area, probably still sleeping. She entered the barn, but Keithen was already riding away, and his friends had left as well.

“I need my horse saddled, anon,” she told the stableboy.

“I was told by yer faither no’ to let ye leave,” said the boy, stepping in front of her.

“I do no’ take orders from ye. Now, out of my way.”

“I have my orders,” the boy protested.

She was about to push him out of the way but didn’t need to. The boy’s eyes opened wide and he ran screaming from the barn. When she turned to look at what had frightened him, she saw the same man she’d seen atop the stairs yesterday. Now, she realized he was transparent.

“Loooorna,” wailed the ghost.

Lorna’s heart raced. “G-Grandda?” she asked, only having known her grandfather for a short time when she was a very young girl.

The ghost floated closer to her, making her feel very uncomfortable. The sight of him was frightening. Lorna was all alone without anyone to protect her. She mounted her horse without a saddle, sitting astride like a man, and rode from the barn. The horse ran right through the ghost, taking her breath away when it happened.

She rode like the wind, looking back over her shoulder, but thankfully her dead grandfather didn’t seem to be following. Taking the road she’d seen Keithen travel, she soon came upon an old, broken-down barn deep in the woods. There was a horse tied up outside, and she recognized it as the one she’d seen Keithen riding.

Dismounting, she tied the reins of her horse to a tree and hurried into the barn. She took two steps inside and stopped in her tracks, seeing the still and the casks stacked up around the barn. This, she realized, must be where old Callum MacKeefe made his whisky.

A hand clasped around her mouth, and she struggled as a man pulled her into an empty stall.

“Keep quiet and ye willna get hurt,” she heard the low voice whisper in her ear, making her think that by running from the ghost she had inadvertently ran into even more trouble.