Page 9 of Wendy Meets the Highlander Hamish (Scottish Highlander I Never Knew #5)
T he library was bathed in the soft, warm glow of candlelight from the various lanterns on the tables and torches on the walls, casting flickering shadows on the ancient tomes that lined the shelves.
The scent of old parchment and leather-bound books filled the air.
Seated at the sturdy oak table, Wendy was engrossed in her work, diligently penning the pages of her folklore book.
As the evening wore on, the door to the library creaked open, and Hamish, now back to health, entered with a quiet, confident step.
The tall, burly blacksmith made quite a striking figure in the library's dim light.
His muscular shoulders and well-defined physique called out to Wendy and his gray eyes held a gentle glimmer that melted her heart.
Wendy looked up from her work, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Hamish," she greeted warmly. " How are you feeling?" She knew he’d returned to work that morning, though he’d kept to the fort, working on some of his blacksmithing projects.
He returned her smile and walked over, taking a seat across from her. "Much better, lass. Thanks to your care, I'm back in fighting shape," he said with a playful wink. Then he leaned forward, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "So, what has been keeping you busy in this cozy corner of the castle?"
"I've been working on my book. I don’t have all the resources I had back home, but you’ve got a ton of them here. So I’ve been documenting the tales and legends from your family that I’ve come across in these books. It's fascinating, really."
“Tis that so? Have you come across anything about the kelpies? Anything that might help us deal with them?”
Wendy smiled, excitement filling her voice as she said, “I have read up on a few things. Not gonna lie, I’ve actually been looking specifically for kelpie stories in these books since you’ve been dealing mostly with them.”
“Aye, and what have you found?” he asked, sounding intrigued.
“Well, one story spoke of being able to lull the kelpies into a sort of trance by playing a peaceful tune upon a harp.”
"That sounds intriguing. Better than being chased and kicked in the chest. What happened after they stopped playing?"
“While they played the harp, they led the kelpies back to the loch and they returned home.” She shrugged.
“Did they come back?” he asked.
“The story didn’t say. Maybe they just kept doing that every time the kelpies showed up?”
“Hmmm, I suppose that tis an option, lass. Though I’m nae sure tis one that t’will work for us.” He chuckled. “Did you find any others?”
Wendy nodded. "Yes, loads. A couple of the books spoke of tales of kelpies forming bonds with humans, especially those with kind hearts.
The people offered the kelpies a place to rest or spoke kindly to them and won their trust. That might work in our case since these kelpies live in Loch Finlaggan.
If we can find a way to coexist peacefully, it might spare both our people and the kelpies from harm. "
Hamish nodded. "You have a good heart, lass," he murmured, smiling at her intently. “It would be worth a try I suppose, but after what has already occurred it may be too late to try for peace between us. Were there any other stories?”
“Yes, let me find it.” Wendy shifted the stack of books and flipped through one of them until she came across a particular passage.
"Look here, Hamish," she said, "This legend speaks of a kelpie that once terrorized a nearby village until it was driven away with the aid of a fairy bull raised by a local farmer." This was the first she’d ever read about a fairy bull before and had been amazed by it. “You see, the bull saved the young woman’s life by engaging with the kelpie. Of course both were lost to the loch, but maybe there’s another fairy bull somewhere in Islay?”
Hamish leaned in, his curiosity piqued, but as he studied the page, a faint smile curled on his lips. "Ah, I know this tale," he replied, his voice warm and tinged with nostalgia. "My grandda told it to me when I was but a wee bairn."
"You've heard of it before? That's wonderful, do you know if the story is true? I’ve never heard of a fairy bull before."
“Oh, aye, tis true, lass, but I’m afraid tis nae possible to do again.”
Frowning Wendy sighed. “Why not? Are there not any more of them? The bulls I mean. Or do you think the kelpies have wised up to them and won’t fall for it again?”
“Nae lass, will nae work because the fairy bull you speak of was borne on Campbell lands. An’ if’n there were ta be another, t’would be theirs and the Campbells will nae help us with this. Especially the Campbells on that particular land.”
Wendy was surprised. She couldn't fathom that the Campbells, in the face of such a dire and universal menace, couldn’t be swayed to set aside their longstanding feuds and grievances for the greater good. “I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t they want to stop the kelpies from harming people?”
“The Campbells hate the Donalds with such passion that they drove nearly all of our women off a cliff into the Hebrides, lass, about sixty years ago. Tis a wonder that any of us are even here now. They take every chance they get ta destroy us Donalds. So nae, they wouldnae care if the kelpies were to drown every last one o’ us.
A course, they would have to believe in the creatures to even hope for that an’ the Campbells donnae believe in the Fae. ”
Wendy felt her hopes sink with the weight of this revelation, realizing the gravity of the predicament they faced. “Well that sucks.” She leaned back in her chair, deep in thought. She wondered what she could do to help fix that situation.
Hamish chuckled. “Aye, lass, it does.” He yawned and stretched then said, “I am going to find my bed, lass. Tis been a long day. Donnae stay too late.”
“I won’t,” Wendy agreed. “If I come across any other ways to stop them, I’ll let you know.”
“I’d appreciate that, lass. Sweet dreams,” he said and then he left.
Sweet dreams were the very last thing on Wendy’s mind though.
Instead, her thoughts were on how to convince the Campbells to behave reasonably in regard to the kelpies.
But how do you convince someone the supernatural existed when they insisted on not believing?
It was a question that kept her up much of the night.