Page 54 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

Chapter Twenty-One

Excitement mounted as they rode along the length of the River Carron. Elspeth was glad they had the illustration to go by because the river’s edge was littered with small buildings and store houses. It would have led to an impossible chase, and too much explaining to the local population which might have alerted the English.

“God must be smiling over ye, Bruce Grant,” Elspeth said. “The journey is near an end.”

“We still have to find the Honors.” Bruce said. She could see that some of his old anxiety had returned. “Who’s to say the Honors werenae moved after the illustrations were made?”

“I wondered about that too,” Elspeth said. “How do we ken for certain that the Honors are still there? I couldnae read the words on the booklet.”

“They were in Latin. The Bishop gave me a thorough education in the language.”

“So, what does it say?”

“The instructions are a riddle,” Bruce said, grimacing. “And make nae sense to me. I was hoping I would be more enlightened when we reached there.”

“Then we should pick up our pace.” Elspeth grinned and urged Willow forward. The horse needed little encouragement to fly like the wind. Elspeth laughed, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Bruce tried to keep up with her, but Willow had a lighter rider.

The sun was low in the sky. They had a few more hours of sunlight before night would force them to abandon adventure and seek lodging. Elspeth blushed thinking of the adventures they might have in bed. Her body was alive to every sensation and it craved his touch more now that she had been initiated in the ways of lovers.

“There!” Elspeth cried, pointing up ahead. “Bruce, look!”

Arthur’s O’on was framed against the descending sun, an oddly shaped building bathed gold in the light. If Elspeth hadn’t known better, she would have mistaken it for a cairn. It certainly looked ominous, and Elspeth’s good cheer was deflated. The weather matched her mood because suddenly a cool wind blew, and she looked behind her to see dark clouds.

Alarm bells rang in her head, and she didn’t want to go inside there anymore. She was certain it would bring them nothing but misery and misfortune. She turned to share this with Bruce, but he looked so elated, finally at the finish line of his mission, that the words died in her throat.

Oh God, possessor of the Greatest of All Powers, keep him safe.

With that prayer, she dismounted and stood with Bruce in front of the O’on. The illustration had not done it justice. The building was taller than Elspeth had imagined, and it stood out not only because of its odd shape but because of the stones used in its construction. They were not like a cairn at all, where stones were put together as best as possible, but were carved to fit perfectly. They gleamed white, as if polished by a thousand hands.

Odd symbols were etched above the door. Elspeth shivered at the sight of them. Were they ancient portents, warning them to stay out?

“Is that Latin?” she asked.

“Nae.” Bruce shook his head, his face full of wonder, and Elspeth could see he was miles away in his head, thinking. “They aren’t Latin. They’re ancient Gaelic symbols. They were banned by the church so long ago they have been lost to memory. This used to be a place of worship for the ancient Scots.”

He reached up and traced his hand on the carvings. Elspeth observed them closely. The symbol in the middle was a circle, with two smaller circles encased within. Another was an intricately carved bolt of lightning, but it had more scratching within. Their meaning was completely lost to her.

“Arthur’s O’on,” Bruce scoffed. “This has naught to do with Arthur. I wondered why the Honors would be housed in a place that was a symbol of the greatest English king. Now I ken they took the place of worship from us and erased its precious memories from our minds.”

There was bitterness in his voice. The wind buffeted against them, and Elspeth felt the need to hide from the storm, yet, she dreaded going inside. Whatever ancient gods had been worshiped at this altar, they were furious at having been forgotten.

“Are ye lost?”

A young man stepped out of the building. He was lanky and had a patchy black beard on his thin face. Large teeth crowded the small mouth, but his eyes were kindly, though full of curiosity at the moment as he looked between Elspeth and Bruce.

“Aye,” Elspeth said. “We were hoping to take shelter in here until the storm passed.”

“Ye can come to me cottage,” the man offered. “The names Liam. Ye can stay by the fire. It’ll be much nicer there than here.”

“Nae, thank ye very much,” Elspeth said quickly. “It does nae look like it will last.” She pointed to the sky that was darkening rapidly. “We’re in a hurry to get to Balquhidder and will only stay until the rain lasts. Can we use yer granary?”

“Aye,” Liam said, stepping aside to let them pass. “’Tis lucky the wheat hasnae been harvested yet. The place is as empty as a church on Monday.”

“Thank ye, Liam,” Bruce said, and shook his hand.

Liam nodded, looked at the clouds, tightened his shawl around his neck, and rushed away into the wheat fields. Bruce didn’t wait any longer and stepped inside. Elspeth watched him get ingulfed by the darkness inside. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she prayed to God to protect them, and followed him.

The cold dispersed as soon as she stepped over the threshold. It was dark inside, the only source of light a small square window above the door. The inside had retained the warmth of the day, and the smell of wheat was strong. Hoeing and digging tools were placed near the door.