Page 3 of Once Upon a Haunted Horn and Hoof

“Callum never jests,” mumbled Cam.

“The MacNeils are our mortal enemies,” Gavin spoke up.

“They’ll be our allies once Keithen marries the lass,” said the old man, prying Keithen’s fingers off of his arm. “Now get back to work, Keithen. This tavern needs a good cleanin’ before yer betrothed arrives.”

All of a sudden, a scream was heard from the stairs above. It was followed by the sound of several slamming doors. Keithen looked over to the staircase to see two of the tavern’s strumpets running down the stairs, half-dressed. Behind them were the men—their customers, pulling on their clothes, hopping on one foot and almost falling over as they ran after the women.

“What’s the matter?” Keithen called out.

“I’ll no’ work here ever again!” cried one of the girls, running out the door.

“Neither will I,” said another whore, following on her heels.

Keithen reached out and grabbed one of the men by the arm. “What happened?”

“I’ll find another place to bed my whores,” said the man, shaking out of Keithen’s grip.

“Wait. Why?” Keithen didn’t understand this at all.

“He’s what happened.” The second man looked up the stairs and nodded. Then both men ran out the door together.

Keithen heard a low moan, and looked over to see a man in white floating down the stairs. He looked transparent. Keithen rubbed his eyes, thinking he was dreaming. “What in the devil’s name is that?”

“It’s a ghost!” one of the women at a table shouted, gathering up her children and high-tailing it for the door as well. The Horn and Hoof was a place where everyone was welcome. Families with children came to eat, and the patrons consisted of Highlanders, Lowlanders and also an occasional Englishman as well.

The ghostly figure released a bloodcurdling scream and waved his arms frantically above his head. That sent the rest of the patrons running out of the tavern, tripping over each other, anxious to leave. The only ones left besides Keithen and Callum were Cam, Gavin, and Yvaine, who was holding little Avianca tightly in her arms.

“W-who is that?” Gavin slowly stood, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

The ghostly figure moved through the tavern, heading over toward Callum, who stood behind the drink board with a bottle of Mountain Magic clenched in his fist. The ghost’s eyes were large, dark holes. If Keithen wasn’t mistaken, the ghost’s neck was broken, since his head hung at an odd angle.

“I’m scared,” whimpered Avianca, hiding her eyes against Yvaine’s chest.

“Yvaine, get Avianca out of here. Now,” ordered Cam, jumping up and escorting his wife to the door. He closed the door after them, turning around with his sword drawn. “Are ye ready, Gavin?” asked Cam.

“I am.” Gavin drew his sword as well.

If Keithen had owned a sword he would have done the same. Instead, he picked up a stool and held it out like a weapon.

“What are we goin’ to do?” asked Cam.

“Kill it, of course,” said Keithen, taking a step forward.

The ghost heard him, and spun around. His eerie holes for eyes now glowed as he focused on Keithen. He held out a ghostly sword.

“Arrrrrrgh!” cried the ghost, aiming the tip of his sword at Keithen’s heart. Then he flew across the room, surprisingly going right through him. Keithen dropped the stool, surprised to find he wasn’t dead. Still, his breath was knocked from his body. Cam and Gavin rushed over to help him. Standing back to back, they looked around the room with their swords at the ready.

“Where did it go?” asked Cam. “What happened to it?”

“I don’t know. It just disappeared,” shouted Gavin.

“Am I dead?” Keithen’s hands went to his chest and he patted himself. “I saw his sword go right into me. He went right through me.”

“We’ve got to kill it,” commanded Gavin.

“Nay! Put down yer swords, ye fools.” Callum hobbled over to them. “Ye canna kill the ghost, because he is already dead.”

“Ye dinna seem as surprised to see a ghost as the rest of us, Callum,” said Cam.