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Maxwell stood in disbelief as his gesture of goodwill was rebuffed. He had assumed that the enemy would surely want to bring the giant of the Highlands to his knees and make him pay for all the death he had delivered to the other men. Perhaps they could sense his misery and wanted Maxwell to wallow in it for the time being. In some ways, that was worse than any torture they could have given to him.

Maxwell continued looking out upon the camp to try and see if a ghostly visage of Bea would appear again. He was dismayed when Hilda had said that she hadn’t seen a woman either. It brought him great shame to know that he had been distracted by a phantom and that this is what had led them to lose the battle. His mind was playing tricks on him, and it had made him falter. He was supposed to have protected Hilda, and yet because of him she was now caged, and would likely die. She had lost so much already, and it was all because of him. He hadn’t been able to protect Bea, and now history was repeating itself. All he wanted to do was wrap his mighty hands around the bars of the cage and bellow out his anguish, but instead, he crawled back to his corner and made himself as small as possible.

His mind had betrayed him. His thoughts were not his own, and the best thing was to put him out of his misery.

Why had Bea chosen that moment to haunt him? It didn’t make any sense.

Hilda kept her distance from him, and he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t think anyone would want to be around him by this point. He had to laugh at himself. How mighty he was, what a great warrior he was. Oh yes, all the children had fawned over him because of his size and stature, but when it mattered, he had let everyone down, including Bea. The whole driving force of the last few years of his life had been to avenge her, but when the moment came, he had been found wanting. It was clear to him that he had no place in the annals of great warriors. He was a wandering, lonely man without a home, without a love, and these were things he would never get to have because he didn’t deserve them.

Perhaps this was how the tale of Maxwell Black was always going to end. His life had been defined by death and tragedy, and perhaps it was only fitting that he should be slaughtered at the hands of evil men.

The light faded, and the prisoners were brought some rudimentary food. There was barely enough to go around. Maxwell refused to take his share, even though his stomach grumbled.

“Ye hae tae eat,” Hilda said, offering him some rations.

“I’ll be fine. There’s enough of me tae last. Others need it more,” he said, patting his stomach. Hilda turned away, not bothering to try and convince him. It had been a long time since he had spoken about Bea with anyone, and he thought Hilda might want to know more about Bea, but evidently not. He and Hilda had grown close recently. There were moments when he could even feel something stirring between them, despite that being impossible. What use could she have with a man with a wretched heart? She was an impressive warrior; of that, there was no doubt. She was impressive as a leader as well, and her beauty was beyond compare. It was a shame she had been so insistent on coming with him on this quest because she should be at home, waiting for some nobleman to marry her and shower her with love.

Instead, she was going to die in this depressing place, and he felt as much guilt for her demise as he did for Bea’s. There had been other women over the years who had asked him what weighed so heavily on his heart, but he hadn’t been able to reveal the truth to them. Hilda was different, and he lamented the fact that he would never truly understand why.

Fires had been lit around the camp to provide illumination, and moonlight broke through trees cast a soft silver light along the ground. The camp was quiet at dusk. The scent of roasting meat drifted toward them, and Maxwell began to regret not taking up his share of rations. He thought about asking Hilda for some but knew they would have been eaten by now.

There was movement outside the cage. Maxwell noticed the murmurs of the people around him and wondered if the man was back to take another one of them to torture. He was a little surprised that he hadn’t heard any screams from the camp, but that didn’t mean anything. The pain might well have been so great that Angus had passed out. Maxwell rose, this time intending to force the man to take him so that someone else’s pain might be spared for a while. However, it wasn’t the man at all. Instead, it was her. It was Bea.

Orange flames flickered against her pale face. The eyes were the same ones he had looked into as she took her last breath. The last time he had seen them, they were empty and lifeless, but here they were filled with life. Maxwell’s mouth dropped open, and from the reaction of others, he knew he wasn’t the only one seeing this apparition.

“Bea?” he asked. He still couldn’t believe she was standing before him even though he was seeing it with his own eyes. He reached out through the cage bars, trying to touch her, trying to understand what was happening. She was just as beautiful as he remembered on that sunny day, that one perfect day when his life was going to change.

Except then, her face twisted into a scowl, and all sense of beauty faded from her.

“How dare ye speak her name after what ye did,” the woman spat.

Maxwell looked at her, utterly confused.

“Bea? What…what’s happening?” he asked.

The woman stepped closer to the cage and tilted her head back to look at him. “Bea was my sister. We came intae the world taegether, and we were always supposed tae leave taegether as well. But ye ruined that.” The look she gave him was of utter disgust. ‘Because of ye, she died. I was nae meant tae be in this world alone. She was all I haed, and ye took her from me.”

She found pleasure in the way he looked at her with confusion as if he was seeing a ghost. “I’m Aileen, and I’m glad I hae finally found ye because now I can take my revenge,” she said, ending her speech with a small and quick smirk.

Maxwell opened his mouth, but before words could slip from his lips, something in the woman’s eyes gleamed. He only just managed to yank himself back as the dagger was thrust through the cage.

Aileen screamed like a madwoman as she plunged the dagger through the empty air, hoping to find flesh and bring Maxwell to his knees. Now that his confusion had been cleared, Maxwell could see the slight differences between Aileen and Bea. He saw the crazed look in Aileen’s eyes, and he could feel the hatred in her heart.

“I never killed her,” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “I was nae the one who killed her.”

“If she was never due tae marry ye, she never would hae been killed!” Aileen screamed.

Others had been alerted to her presence, and they came over to drag her away, kicking and screaming. Maxwell was left watching this image of his wife, who wasn’t his wife, being dragged away. It was difficult for him to comprehend everything he had just been shown, but at least he knew he wasn’t going mad. At least he knew his wife was not haunting him from beyond the grave.

Hilda had been busying herself trying to make sure everyone had something to eat before they slept when she heard the commotion. She turned to see a woman flinging herself toward the cage and blaming Maxwell for the death of her sister. It was definitely no apparition. The woman was dragged away, and Hilda went to speak to Maxwell.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“It seems as though my ghost was nae a ghost at all,” he said dryly, his voice soft and thoughtful. She imagined it must be taking a lot for him to make sense of this situation.

“Yer wife’s name was Bea, aye?” Hilda asked. Maxwell nodded. “And this woman is her sister?”