Highland Magic

Cien couldn't remember the last time he'd rode as hard as he rode now. The MacPhearson keep was a two day ride. He'd forced his men and himself to make it a matter of hours. Their horses were winded, he knew, and they grew tired. He knew that as well. He also knew if he kept pushing as hard as he was he was going to lame his horse, or that of one of his men, and thus, put them in harms way.

But he couldn't slow down.

He kept his eye on the horizon watching in the direction of the keep for smoke. His rational mind told him they would wait to burn her, as it was raining like all the Saints were tearing. Mayhap they were, he thought bitterly. He had shed his share while he rode.

With single mindedness he rode. He had to reach the keep. He had to save her.

~~~~~~~

They'd thrown me in a chamber up stairs, though quite honestly, I didn't know why. Tilda was dead. I closed my eyes, and could see them again. What they did to her.

Bile rushed up my throat and I heaved up into the rushes. I heaved until my sides were sore and my body exhausted. I leaned back, pulling my legs up to my chest and cried. Why had he done that to her? I wanted to scream. Why had he killed his own cousin, and them let them befoul her in such a way.

Exhausted, I lay back on the straw pallet and replayed the scene in my mind.

When I hadn't given them enough pleasure, kicking and stomping me, they turned to her. She lay motionless, dead, behind the horse, who was anxiously prancing about. One of the soldiers, the dirtiest one with the scraggly beard, untied her hands and I thought briefly that they were going to bury her.

I was wrong.

They untied her arms from the horse and let her body drop with a sickening thud on the ground. It was then that scraggly beard dropped down on top of her and assaulted her sexually. I felt my stomach lurch again in protest, but had no energy left to vomit. Had nothing left to vomit.

Tilda's lifeless eyes stared skyward, unmoving in her head as he assaulted her. Her face was unrecongnizable, so cut up, bruised and swollen it had become since her cousin had her dragged behind him.

Everyone was cheering on the soldier. And when he finished, abusing her once virgin body, another fell atop of her and ravaged her. None were looking at me, as all were too occupied with Tilda's body. And they called me a witch and the scum of the Earth.

I stood as best I could. Not feeling any pain for the rage I felt. No one looked away long enough to see me stand. Too preoccupied with raping a corpse were they. I wanted to scream, but that would get me no where.

The men were shouting up a storm, cheering their lecherous friend on. I could have thrown up on them all, the scum. Reaching out to the man closest to me, I pulled his dagger out of his belt. He did not even notice me removing it.

And then I pushed my way forward.

Slipping the dagger in my sleeve, none could see it. They were all amused as I pushed my way to the front. Amused I could walk maybe, or amused that I wanted to see such a sacrilegious event. When I stood over the man heaving above her, I kicked him soundly in the head.

He rolled off of Tilda clutching at his skull. There was a bloody imprint of my boot on the side of his skull. I smiled in self satisfaction.

He stood quickly and yelped. "The witch as tried to fell me!" All of the soldiers backed away from me. I felt it more than I saw it. They thought me to do black magic right there in front of them. Black magic, no. But modern day justice, the best I could dish out.

I smiled wickedly at Tilda's assaulter and fell into a fighting stance.

"Come to me, you chicken shit mother fucker. Come on!!" I screamed at him. "What, you can rape a dead girl but a live one is much to frightening to you?" He bellowed in rage and rushed toward me.

Oh this was going to be too easy.

A mere second before he was to plow into me, I stepped aside and let him fall into his own friends. They pushed him back, causing him to fall to the ground. I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed long and hard.

"Stupid. You are all so incredibly stupid!" I taunted them. Not the wisest thing to do, but I wasn't exactly in my own head. If they wanted a witch. A witch I would give them.

He rushed at me again, and this time, I was done fooling around. I slid the dagger out and he saw it just as it came to rest in my palm. But he had to much momentum behind him and couldn't stop. I slid the dagger easily into his neck and watched it slip out the other side. His blood began to spill over the blade and onto my hand.

I didn't care.

I shoved it in to the hilt and watched his eyes widen with pain. "Ah, Karma is a bitch isn't it?"

I twisted the blade.

He made was sounded as a gargled noise, but it must have been an attempt at a pain induced scream. He fell to his knees with me still holding the blade. I leaned down and whispered into his ear. "I condemn your soul if you should prove to have one, to hell." For shits and giggles as I was hardly in my own mind. I kissed his temple.

"Say hello to the devil for me."

I pulled the knife free.

The man fell to the ground lifeless, blood still pooling around his body.

"Anyone else?" All of the men were staring at the dead man. "Aye, he's dead. Good and dead. Worry not, the devil will welcome him into the gates of Hell." I threw my head back and cackled. I laughed hard and sarcastically.

"I know I'm going to die," I announced watching them all. "Whose going to come with me?"