Chapter Three

K eithen hadn't slept well at all, tossing and turning all night long, worrying about his future with the MacNeil lass. He thought he heard a noise, and woke to find the ghost of Lennox MacNeil standing over him at the foot of his pallet.

"Aaaah!" Keithen bolted upright, grabbing for anything he could to ward off the spirit who seemed to want him dead. Unfortunately, the closest thing to grab was his shoe from next to his pallet that sat directly on the floor. "Get back, or I'll do somethin' ye'll regret," he spat, realizing as soon as the words left his mouth how stupid the threat sounded. After all, MacNeil had a sword strapped to his side, and Keithen only had... a shoe.

The ghost laughed deeply, his body bobbing up and down in the air like a boat on the water.

"Ye are the one marryin' my granddaughter are ye no?" His eyes were no longer big, gaping holes, but still looked dark and void of life.

"I—I am," said Keithen, scooting to the end of the pallet, terrified to know the ghost could speak. Slowly, he stood. His eyes flashed over to the table where he'd left his dagger, and he carefully side-stepped his way toward it.

"I dinna want a MacKeefe marryin' her. The MacKeefes canna be trusted."

"I heard about how ye died," said Keithen, trying to keep the ghost talking so he wouldn't realize he was going for his dagger.

"The Madman MacKeefe killed me!" This thought only seemed to rile the ghost, and now Keithen regretted mentioning it.

"Now, calm down," said Keithen, holding up his hands. "I ken old Callum is crazy, everyone kens that. But I assure ye, he didna mean to kill ye. I mean—ye were his friend."

"A friend would give me his secret for makin' the best and strongest whisky in Scotland."

"And sell it to the enemy as well?" he mumbled.

"What did ye say?"

Keithen suddenly regretted voicing his thoughts aloud. "I assure ye, Callum will no' even tell his own son how he makes it. Dinna take it personally."

"I want to ken how it's made, and ye'll find out for me or ye'll no' marry my granddaughter—and ye'll be the one to suffer. Do ye understand?" His head hung at an odd angle as he spoke, only reminding Keithen of broken necks. His hand went to his own neck in a form of protection.

"I would if I could, but he willna tell me!" Keithen could see his situation getting worse and worse, and he was helpless to change a thing. "I am only marryin' Lorna to make an alliance with our clans." He made it to the table. With his hand behind his back he reached out for the dagger. The ghost was getting so angry that Keithen was sure he'd try to take off his head again, and he needed a way to defend himself.

"Do it!" screamed Lennox, just as Keithen was about to close his fingers around the dagger. But before he could, the ghost waved his hand through the air and an invisible force pushed him down. His dagger went flying.

Keithen's eyes widened as he saw the door to his room open, and the dagger embed itself into the wood right next to Cam's head.

"What in the bloody hell are ye doin'?" Cam jumped to the side. Gavin was right behind him.

"I didna do that," protested Keithen, getting to his feet. "It was him." He pointed to the ghost, but Lennox MacNeil was gone.

"Who?" asked Gavin. "I dinna see anyone here but ye, Keithen."

"It was the ghost," said Keithen, walking over and yanking his dagger out of the wood. "He was here, and he threatened me."

Gavin looked out to the corridor and then quickly closed the door. "Dinna talk so loud. We dinna want Lorna to hear ye."

"Or her faither," said Keithen with a nod.

"Thankfully, her faither left with most of his men to get supplies for the weddin'," Cam told him. "He said Callum didna have enough food for all the guests he invited. He'll be back on the day of the weddin'."

"He left only a few guards, who are still sleepin' down in the tavern," Gavin told him.

"What about Lorna?" asked Keithen.

"Yvaine and Avianca went to Lorna's room to help her prepare for the day," said Cam.

"I hope she didna hear the ghost." Keithen hurriedly dressed as he talked to his friends.

"What did Lennox say?" asked Cam.

"He wants me to find out and tell him Callum's secret of how he makes his Mountain Magic better than anyone else's whisky."

Gavin laughed. "Callum will die before he gives up that information."

"And so will I if I dinna give the ghost what he wants." Keithen sat on a chair to don his boots. "Plus, he said he didna want me marryin' his granddaughter."

"What are ye goin' to do?" asked Cam.

"I have to find out Callum's secret and tell Lennox before the ghost kills me. Then I need to marry Lorna before her faither kills me. No' to mention, I need to bring back business to the Horn and Hoof before Callum kills me, that's all." Just saying this aloud brought a knot to Keithen's stomach.

"That's a tall order to fill." Cam chuckled.

"Ye two are goin' to help me." Keithen told, didn't ask, his friends.

"Nay, no' me," said Gavin, holding up a halting hand.

"I'm no' gettin' involved either. I'm a married man now with a bairn on the way," said Cam. Both men shook their heads and looked in the other direction.

"I'm yer family now," Keithen pleaded with them. "My sister has already seen her first husband die. Do ye think she wants to see her brathair die as well?"

Cam looked back over his shoulder without really turning his head. "Now, that's no' fair."

"Neither is the position I'm in fair to me. Have ye two been able to bring back the customers yet?" Keithen inquired.

"No' yet," said Gavin. "They're pretty scared by what they've seen. It's goin' to take a lot of convincin'."

"Damn it, ye've got to try harder." Keithen rubbed the back of his neck, already feeling Lennox's blade against his skin. He wasn't sure if a ghost could really kill him or not, but he wasn't willing to find out. He rather liked having his head mounted on his shoulders.

"What about ye?" asked Cam. "What are ye goin' to do to help?"

"I'm goin' to go to that old barn where Callum makes his whisky," Keithen told them his plan. He stood and put on his belt, slipping his dagger through it. "With any luck, mayhap I can figure out Callum's secret, and tell Lennox without Callum ever finding out. At least that would solve one of my problems."

"Did Lennox agree to leave the tavern for good if ye gave him this information?" asked Gavin.

"Well, nay. I didna think to tell him that," Keithen admitted.

"Ye need to make a deal with him," said Cam. "Tell him if ye give him what he wants, he has to promise to leave here and never return."

"And to let the weddin' progress as planned," added Gavin.

"Aye. I'll do that as soon as I see him again." Keithen wasn't looking forward to another encounter with the ghost, and neither was he excited about having to sneak into the barn where Callum kept his still. Either of these things was more dangerous than anything he had ever done since hiding the fact that his sister had killed—or thought she killed—her own husband. "Make sure Yvaine keeps Lorna busy until I return. And tell Callum I went to town but will be back soon." Keithen got to the door and stopped. "Oh, and try yer hardest to get the customers to return and stay quiet about what they saw. We wouldna want any of the MacNeils findin' out about the ghost before the weddin'."

"Anything else, yer highness?" asked Gavin sarcastically. Both Cam and Gavin glared at him. Keithen had no right to tell anyone what to do, especially not a Highlander. But in this situation, he had no choice.

"Aye," said Keithen, flashing a quick smile. "Make sure neither Callum nor Lennox follow me. And if I live through this, I want ye both to train me to wield a sword, because about right now it would certainly come in handy."

*

"Enter," Lorna called out, hearing the knocking at her chamber door. She had just finished dressing, and was about to go look for Keithen and start her day.

A woman poked her head around the door. "Hello, I am Yvaine, wife of Cam MacKeefe. This is our daughter, Avianca." She pushed the door open wider to reveal a young girl standing next to her. "May we come in?"

"Yes, of course. I am Lorna MacNeil. I'm happy to meet ye."

"Come on, Avianca," said Yvaine, entering the room, but the little girl stood at the door, not wanting to enter.

"I'm afraid the ghost is in here," said Avianca.

"Ghost?" asked Lorna with a chuckle, thinking it was just a childish fear until she saw the look on Yvaine's face.

"Shhh, Avianca," said Yvaine, with a finger to her lips. Then her eyes flashed over to Lorna. "I'm sorry. Ye werena supposed to hear that." Yvaine grabbed her daughter by the hand and pulled her into the room.

"Is there really a ghost?" questioned Lorna, her eyes moving back and forth from the woman to the child.

"He was scary, and chased all the customers away." The child looked at her with frightened eyes.

"Avianca!" Yvaine pulled her daughter closer.

"It's all right. Ye can tell me," said Lorna. "I'm no' afraid of ghosts."

"Ye would be of this one," said Yvaine, looking out to the hall and then quickly closing the door. "I'm sorry. My daughter never should have told ye. We were warned to keep quiet."

"Whatever for?" Lorna chuckled again.

"Because the ghost is yer grandda," admitted Yvaine.

"And Callum is the one who killed him." Avianca got another nasty glare from her mother.

"What?" Lorna's smile faded. "Is this true?"

"Well, yes and no," Yvaine quickly answered. "The ghost is real and he is yer grandda, Lennox MacNeil. That part is true."

"Nay," gasped Lorna, holding her hand to her mouth. She slowly lowered herself atop a chair.

"However, Callum swears the man's death was an accident. Lennox fell from his horse and broke his neck while Callum was trying to keep him from learning his secret."

"Secret? What secret?" asked Lorna.

"How to make Mountain Magic," said the little girl.

"Do ye mean the whisky?"

"That's right," answered Yvaine. "Callum has kept it a guarded secret all these years, and never told a soul. Not even his own son."

"Well, I hardly think something as silly as that is worth dyin' over." Lorna couldn't believe what she was hearing. She knew their clans were enemies, and it had something to do with her late grandfather, but her own father had never wanted to talk about it or even tell her more.

Yvaine continued. "The MacKeefes dinna think their coveted whisky is silly, I assure ye. And honestly, every clan in Scotland would like to get their hands on the information of how to make it, because it brings in a lot of money. I've heard from my husband that Lennox was goin' to steal the secret and sell it to an enemy of the MacKeefes."

"Does my da ken his own faither is a ghost?" asked Lorna.

"Nay. And neither do the MacKeefes want him to find out," answered Yvaine, seeming very worried now. "Oh, please, Lorna. Dinna tell him. And dinna let anyone ken that Avianca told ye, or I will be in a lot of trouble."

"Of course no'," said Lorna, putting her hand on the woman's shoulder. "Yer secret is safe with me. Now, let's go find somethin' to eat. And I want ye to tell me all about yer brathair. After all, if I am goin' to be marryin' the man in a few days, I'd like to ken how brave and strong he is."

"Uncle Keithen is no' a Highland warrior like my da," blurted out Avianca.

"He's no'?" asked Lorna.

"What she means is that Keithen doesna wield a sword like the others," Yvaine quickly spoke up.

"He doesna? Why no'?" asked Lorna.

"Oh, please dinna ask me that." Yvaine wrung her hands together.

"Nay. I need to hear the answer," said Lorna, wondering what else the MacKeefes were hiding from her.

"Lorna, I hope this willna cause ye to change yer mind about marryin' my brathair. I mean, he's one of the nicest, yet bravest men, ye'll ever meet," continued Yvaine.

"Tell me," she demanded.

"My brathair and I were naught but commoners until I married Cam MacKeefe, and their chieftain allowed Keithen into the clan as well."

"So, he's no' a warrior then?"

"Nay. I was the wife of a chandler, and Keithen owned a tavern close to Hermitage Castle."

"I see," said Lorna, knowing her father wouldn't be happy about this. "So, Callum MacKeefe deceived my da, by makin' the alliance."

"Nay! Never. I'm sure it just never came up, or Callum would have told him. This marriage is important. For peace between yer clans. Please, dinna let this change yer mind about my brathair."

"Where is Keithen now?" she asked.

"I—I'm no' sure," said Yvaine.

Through the open window, Lorna heard voices and the sound of a snorting horse. She walked over and looked out to see Keithen mounting a horse, talking to his friends.

"Excuse me," said Lorna. "I want to catch up with yer brathair." She ran out the door, exiting through the kitchen to avoid her guards, who were in the tavern area, probably still sleeping. She entered the barn, but Keithen was already riding away, and his friends had left as well.

"I need my horse saddled, anon," she told the stableboy.

"I was told by yer faither no' to let ye leave," said the boy, stepping in front of her.

"I do no' take orders from ye. Now, out of my way."

"I have my orders," the boy protested.

She was about to push him out of the way but didn't need to. The boy's eyes opened wide and he ran screaming from the barn. When she turned to look at what had frightened him, she saw the same man she'd seen atop the stairs yesterday. Now, she realized he was transparent.

"Loooorna," wailed the ghost.

Lorna's heart raced. "G-Grandda?" she asked, only having known her grandfather for a short time when she was a very young girl.

The ghost floated closer to her, making her feel very uncomfortable. The sight of him was frightening. Lorna was all alone without anyone to protect her. She mounted her horse without a saddle, sitting astride like a man, and rode from the barn. The horse ran right through the ghost, taking her breath away when it happened.

She rode like the wind, looking back over her shoulder, but thankfully her dead grandfather didn't seem to be following. Taking the road she'd seen Keithen travel, she soon came upon an old, broken-down barn deep in the woods. There was a horse tied up outside, and she recognized it as the one she'd seen Keithen riding.

Dismounting, she tied the reins of her horse to a tree and hurried into the barn. She took two steps inside and stopped in her tracks, seeing the still and the casks stacked up around the barn. This, she realized, must be where old Callum MacKeefe made his whisky.

A hand clasped around her mouth, and she struggled as a man pulled her into an empty stall.

"Keep quiet and ye willna get hurt," she heard the low voice whisper in her ear, making her think that by running from the ghost she had inadvertently ran into even more trouble.