Chapter One

Horn and Hoof Tavern

Glasgow, Scotland, 14 Century

W orking for mad old Callum MacKeefe at the Horn and Hoof Tavern wasn't an easy task. Then again, Keithen was a MacKeefe now, and that alone made it a worthwhile situation.

"Come here," whispered Callum, his gaze darting around the room. He waggled a boney finger, calling him over. Callum's long, white hair stuck out in all directions, and his beard reached down to his chest. "I have to tell ye somethin' but ye must keep it a secret," he hissed through broken teeth.

The old man grabbed Keithen by the sleeve and pulled him behind the drink board. He really was an odd one, just like everyone had warned Keithen when he took the job here a fortnight ago.

"Aye?" asked Keithen, bending closer, trying to ignore the odor of garlic on the man's breath. He did not care to know his secret or anything about him, but he tried not to anger Callum since he was known to have an awful temper.

"The Horn and Hoof is haunted," whispered Callum, almost causing Keithen to laugh aloud. "It's haunted, but ye canna tell a soul. Do ye understand?"

"Believe me, I willna repeat that!" Chuckling, Keithen picked up a wet rag and headed across the tavern to wipe the tables and join his friends.

"So, brathair, how do ye like yer new life with the MacKeefes, and workin' in their tavern?" asked his sister, Yvaine who had recently married Cam MacKeefe after the death of her husband, who had been a chandler. Her first marriage had been a living hell, but this time, Yvaine said she was in heaven. It had been nearly a year now since she'd married Cam. Yvaine looked so happy tonight that Keithen swore his sister glowed.

"It's... interestin'." Keithen glanced back at old Callum standing behind the drink board, ranting about a few drops of his precious Mountain Magic that a customer had spilled. The crazy old loon had a secret recipe for making the strongest whisky in all of Scotland and England combined. He also insisted not a drop be wasted. It was said that many people tried to find out how he made Mountain Magic, but Callum guarded his secret and would go to his grave without divulging that information.

"If by interestin' ye mean insane, then, aye, we understand." Cam, Yvaine's husband, sat next to her at the table with a tankard of Mountain Magic in his grip.

Keithen had once owned his own tavern in a small Scottish Lowland village, and knew damned well that no one but the Madmen MacKeefe drank whisky from such a large vessel as a tankard.

"Did Callum make his big announcement yet?" Gavin MacKeefe sat down next to his good friend, Cam. He, too, gripped a tankard of the strong drink. "He's been talkin' about it all night."

"No' yet," Cam reported. "But we have an announcement of our own to make." Yvaine smiled shyly at Cam. Avianca, Cam's six-year-old daughter from another woman, ran over and climbed atop his lap. She was Cam and Yvaine's child now, and happy about it.

"Da, Pa-papa is goin' to ring the bell," the wee lass told him, using her special name for Callum. She then stuck her fingers in her ears as Callum rang a bell that he had mounted on the edge of the drink board. The loud clanging sound filled the air, getting everyone's attention.

"I thought he took that damned bell down," grumbled Cam, swiping a stray strand of blond hair from his eyes.

"Cam, please dinna curse around our daughter," Yvaine scolded him.

"God's eyes, I hope he's not makin' another set of his silly tavern rules." Gavin picked up his tankard and took a drink.

"Gavin, there is a child present!" Yvaine took Avianca onto her lap to keep the girl away from the cursing men. "When is Davita arrivin'?" Yvaine inquired about Gavin's wife.

"She's no'," Gavin answered. "Her father had to go on a short trip, so she stayed back at Hermitage Castle. She wanted to help out in town at her family's cordwainer's shop until he returns."

Davita's family made shoes, and because of it, everyone Davita knew always had new shoes to wear. Hermitage Castle in the Lowlands belonged to the MacKeefes, and they had a camp in the Highlands as well. That was why both Storm MacKeefe and his father Ian were chieftains. With such a distance between their holdings, they needed a ruler in each spot.

"Listen up! I have an announcement to make," shouted Callum, waving his clenched fist in the air as he made his way over to Keithen and the others. Keithen wondered if he was going to tell everyone about his supposed ghost after all. He really hoped not. For Callum's sake. After all, his reputation already suffered, and he didn't need another reason to be called crazy.

"We have our own announcement to make first." Cam jumped up from the bench so quickly that he almost knocked Gavin to the floor.

"Careful, Cam. Ye ken old Callum will make me lap the whisky off the floor if we spill a single drop," Gavin grunted, steadying himself as well as his full tankard.

"Cam, no' yet," whispered Yvaine, placing her hand on his arm. "Be polite, and wait for Callum to make his announcement first."

"Nay! If ye have somethin' to say then spit it out before I knock ye silly for interuptin' me," growled the cantankerous old man.

"We're pregnant," Cam blurted out, smiling from ear to ear.

"Yvaine, that is wonderful news," said Keithen, reaching down and hugging his sister. "And this time, yer bairn will survive, so dinna worry," he whispered in her ear, since she'd lost her last baby.

"That is good news. Ye're goin' to be a faither. Again," said Gavin, slapping Cam on the back. Everyone in the tavern cheered and clapped. Several of the women wandered over to congratulate the couple.

"Am I goin' to have a sister?" Avianca looked up at her mother with wide, green eyes.

"Yes. Or a brathair." Yvaine told their daughter, giggling and hugging the girl to her chest.

"Nay, I want a sister," protested the little girl, as if she thought she had a choice in the matter.

"Are we done with this clishmaclaver now, so I can talk?" asked Callum in a sarcastic tone. "After all, it is my tavern, unless ye've forgotten."

"Nay, we havena forgotten. Ye will never let us forget that," mumbled Gavin into his tankard.

"What is it, Callum?" asked Keithen. "Tell everyone what ye have to say." When he was sure his employer was going to tell everyone his ridiculous story about having a ghost, he said something totally different that Keithen wasn't expecting at all.

"When ye started workin' here a fortnight ago, Keithen, I told ye I would hire ye, but that ye had to do somethin' for me in return." Callum crossed his arms over his chest.

"Aye, that's right," said Keithen, still smiling from his sister's good news. "What did ye want me to do? Change the rushes on the floor? Or perhaps help ye make that secret recipe for your famous Mountain Magic?"

"Nay!" spat the old man, his face turning red at the suggestion. "Ye are no' goin' to learn my secret so dinna even try. No one ever will. And the rushes are fine and dinna need changin'."

"Then what is it, Callum?" asked Cam, sitting back down and putting his arm around his wife.

"Keithen is a MacKeefe now, is he no?" asked Callum.

"Callum, ye ken he is," Gavin answered. "Storm invited him into the clan when his sister married Cam."

Callum snorted. "I still dinna consider him one of us. After all, he's yet to prove his worth."

The mood suddenly grew solemn.

"Well, what can I do to prove to you that I honor bein' a MacKeefe?" asked Keithen. "Just name it, and I will do it."

"Keithen, nay," he heard Cam's urgent whisper. When he looked up, he saw both Cam and Gavin scowling at him, shaking their heads in some sort of silent warning not to agree to a thing.

"Anythin'?" asked Callum. He narrowed his eyes, and his long-bearded chin jutted up in the air.

"Aye. Anythin' at all." Keithen had no worries. After all, he was young and strong, and the old man probably needed help moving something heavy. Even if he had to muck out the stables, he'd willingly do so to be accepted into the prestigious MacKeefe clan.

Cam cleared his throat, and Gavin faked a cough. Keithen looked over at his friends again. Now they were waving their hands in the air along with shaking their heads. He wasn't sure what was going on.

"I'm glad to hear that," said Callum in an approving tone. "Mayhap ye'll earn yer title of bein' a MacKeefe after all."

Keithen was once naught but a commoner who lived in a town in the Lowlands. He had done more than his share of jobs that most people would find disgusting or appalling. Nothing could bother him in the least. He prided himself on his ability to be adaptable, and make the crazy old man accept him along the way.

"Ye're gettin' married," announced Callum.

"What?" Keithen's head snapped around, and he stared at the old man with wide eyes. "Nay, I'm no'. I assure ye, I'm no' gettin' married and neither do I want to do so right now. I dinna even have myself a lass."

"Ye do now," said Callum.

Cam and Gavin both groaned. Keithen swore he heard one of them whisper I told ye so . Suddenly, the room went silent as everyone listened intently.

"Keithen, ye are in for it now," said Cam.

"Ye never should have agreed to willingly do a nythin' for Callum," added Gavin. "That was yer first mistake."

"What's this all about?" Keithen shrugged, feeling totally confused. "I'm tellin' ye, I do no' have a special lass, and I dinna plan on gettin' married for a long, long time yet."

"Yer bride-to-be is Lorna MacNeil," Callum continued. "She's arrivin' here in the mornin' to marry ye right away. Now, be sure no' to do anythin' to scare her off." Callum turned to go back to the drink board, but Keithen grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait a minute. Ye are no' serious about this?"

"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.

"Nay, I'm no'."

"Ye kent the ghost was here?" asked Gavin.

Keithen turned a full circle, still patting himself and looking for wounds.

"Of course, I did," said Callum. "He's been here since I took over the Horn and Hoof many years ago."

"I've never heard of a ghost occupying the tavern," said Gavin.

"That's because I've seen to it that the bastard stays quiet," explained Cam. "However, he's been causin' trouble lately, knockin' things over and slammin' doors. He has gotten out of control."

"I'll say," gasped Keithen. "He tried to kill me. Why? Why does he want me dead?"

"It was probably because you spoke of killin' him," Cam pointed out.

"Nay, that's no' why." Callum popped a cork out of the bottle of whisky and took a swig.

"Then why now? After bein' silent all these years?" asked Gavin.

"He's upset," said Callum. "But I figured out a way to settle him down."

"What does that even mean?" asked Keithen, feeling more confused than ever.

"That ghost is Lennox MacNeil," said Callum. "The grandda of the girl that Keithen is about to marry."