Page 12 of Highlander’s False Identity

Beside her, Beathan coughed. “It wasnae what it looked like; it was just a – misunderstanding…,” he cut in.

Edme turned to him, desperately grateful for his interaction. However, her heart was burdened with guilt and fear of what would happen next.

“Sir I…I am sorry,” she floundered, unsure whether or not to come clean and admit her attempted theft, and throw herself upon their mercy, or to ride it out.

Wallace drew back, as if in shock.

“So, then, ye admit it? Ye are a witch?” he said, aghast.

A gasp went up in the room. Edme watched as the lady’s face gaped in disbelief. She hardly dared turn to look to see the expression on Beathan’s face. By the sound of the murmuring in the room, there were many more servants and counselors than she realized.

With a swish of his hand, Wallace dismissed them all, so they could better question her. Edme felt a heat burn in her cheeks, although she had been cold not a few moments ago.

“A witch?” Beathan asked, spinning around to face his father. He looked at her, searching her face. “Is this true?” he said, his green eyes scrutinizing her.

“Nae, of course it is nae!” Edme spluttered. “It’s ridiculous!”

“An’ yet ye seem nae very surprised by it,” said Beathan, watching her fervently. When she dared to look around, Edme could see that all three were watching her every breath. Freya, in particular, looked horrified.

“Aye, it’s as if ye kent all about it afore it was even mentioned!” agreed the laird. Now he had taken to pacing the length of the room, moving rigidly from end to end, occasionally pausing to send her a heavy stare. “Is this what ye were sorry for?”

“Och nae, I,” began Edme, all eyes upon her. “That was only about the…,” she started, then stopped, flustered, realizing that admitting to highway robbery was hardly an improvement on witchcraft. Unsure of what to say, the girl simply stood there, gaping.

“What, what is this?” Beathan asked, agog.

“Aye, Wallace, how come this is the first I’ve heard of this?” Freya asked, looking genuinely worried. “That we have a witch in the keep?”

“I’m nae a witch!” burst out Edme suddenly. Somewhere in the distance, she was aware of somebody moving behind her. When she turned, it was to see a pair of hefty guards, both with sturdy arms and swords standing behind her.

Now Edme could feel the pound of her heart growing stronger and harder.

“Nae, ye cannae believe this, ye cannae!” she protested as the laird glanced over at one of the guards, a fearsome-looking man with a gnarled face and jet black hair billowing all about his face. To the young girl, he looked terrifying.

“Our Gillies just brought word from Dunmor. Her brother warns all to be wary of the Maid of McKinley since she is wanted for witchcraft!” announced Wallace, his eyes struggling through the thick text of the letter he was holding. He handed it to his wife. “Ye can read better than me, ye check it!”

Freya took the parchment and studied it carefully, reading through to the end. She turned ashen-faced and gave a nod, before sending a carefully placed glance the girl’s way.

“What is this?” Beathan asked, aghast.

“It says she bewitched the laird – her brother – an’ that by her unnatural actions she was attempting to kill him and by doing so to usurp his power!” summarized Freya, handing the parchment solemnly to her son.

“It asks us to return her to the McKinley clan, where she will be put on trial for witchcraft!”

Edme was so stunned she could only open and close her mouth like a fish. Of course, she had known what her brother Dughall had claimed, but she had no idea that he had put this message out to all the neighboring clans.

The weight of everyone’s stares bore down on her; she felt the room spinning and her head getting dizzy.

The last sounds she remembered were the laird’s voice, booming out at her;

“So then, young woman, what have ye to say?”

Then the room turned black.

Chapter Five

“Edme, Edme!”

He was calling her name, as blackness swirled down on her. Maybe it was the heat from the fire, or the stress, perhaps it was the persistent and never-ending groan from her stomach, letting out its sharp cries of hunger. Whatever it was, unconsciousness gaped out in front of Edme, like a black hole, beckoning her in.