At the right time of year, the moors could be lovely. At the right time of year, they bloomed, a subdued riot of color.
This wasn?t the right time of year. As far as Hudson could tell, it was almost the same time of year that Sianna had vanished. It seemed like she had been working her way back home for the holidays, and decided to take a shortcut rather than stay in McKenzie lands. The moors were barren, solid turf giving way unexpectedly to peat bog, with the same wavy grass over all concealing the transitions.
The sky was cold gray and the only sign of life Hudson had seen for two days was the thin trail of smoke he was aiming for. When the low cottage, built of sod and thatched with the local grass, finally came into view he almost missed it. It was only the sharp scent of burning peat that alerted him he was close.
A knock on the door brought a thin, old voice from inside. ?One moment tae ye, be ye fairy or firbolg, giant or man. I be coming.? When the door finally creaked open, Hudson was astonished that the woman who answered was mobile. She was ancient. Her hair had thinned to wisps and her skin was wrinkled and creased ? but her eyes were still a sharp and lively blue.
?Latha math, auld mother. I hate tae trouble ye, but night comes fast, and I was hoping tae beg hospitality in exchange for doing some chores for ye.? Hudson applied his most charming smile, and it didn?t take long at all before the woman opened the door and waved him inside.
?Nae, lad, I?ve nae need of chores tae be done, but ye be welcome tae stay the night for the pleasure of the company. Ye be the first tae come by here in a year and more.? The inside of the cottage, while dark and lit only by the smoky fire on the hearth, was scrupulously clean. He set down his pack carefully to one side of the door, and then took the old woman?s hands in his own and bowed over them.
?Tapadh leibh, gracious lady. Ye are tae kind, and I am honored tae spend the evening in yer company.? That brought a blush to the old woman?s cheeks, and she waved at him to sit while she stirred the pot of stew on its hook over the fire. He did, with some relief. He was in the middle of adjusting his plaid over his shoulder when she spoke up again.
?Och, lad, be ye one of the Fraiser? I havenae seen the likes of that brooch in nigh four years now.? Oh, those words caught his ears, and had him looking up sharply. The old woman gestured in the direction of her narrow bed, and the heavy wool of an embroidered cloak draped over its end. The embroidery was painstakingly intricate, a border of stags around its hem.
Hudson caught in his breath sharply. He recognized that embroidery, that cloak. His mother had sewn it while he was a child. He had sharp memories of her sitting by the fire in the evenings, needle flashing in the light from the flames. It had been Sianna?s from the time she became old enough to treat it with care.
?Where did ye get that, auld mother?? His voice was harsh, and he had only barely restrained himself from lunging to his feet. He was almost sick with dread at her answer. The old woman looked at him steadily, and then turned back to her stew. Her voice drifted back through the room to him, barely making it through the ringing in his ears.
?Aye, and the lass gifted it tae me, lad. Sianna, she said her name was. She?d stumbled intae one of the boggy bits, and I fed and clothed her here until her own things were clean. Gave her some food for her travels, tae. The cloak had been thick with the mud, sae she gave it tae me in exchange, lad. I had the time tae properly clean and care for it, and she still had her plaid.?
Brisk movements by the old woman soon had a pair of bowls set onto the table and filled with stew. Her eyes were kindly as she watched Hudson stare at the bowl unseeing. Her voice was gentle when she continued. ?She left intae miserable weather, lad. I asked her tae stay, but she was headstrong, and determined tae gae. I havenae seen nor heard anything of her saen.?
A low groan escaped him, and he buried his head in his hands. It was some time before he joined the woman in her meal. When he set out again, in the pre-dawn hours, he left behind another token of the Fraiser clan. The silver kilt pin had the charging stag sigil worked onto its end.
Rising sun touched a distant ring of stones, and Hudson set out for it because he had no other idea of where to go. Hope was long since fled, but he couldn?t bring himself to stop searching.
This wasn?t the right time of year. As far as Hudson could tell, it was almost the same time of year that Sianna had vanished. It seemed like she had been working her way back home for the holidays, and decided to take a shortcut rather than stay in McKenzie lands. The moors were barren, solid turf giving way unexpectedly to peat bog, with the same wavy grass over all concealing the transitions.
The sky was cold gray and the only sign of life Hudson had seen for two days was the thin trail of smoke he was aiming for. When the low cottage, built of sod and thatched with the local grass, finally came into view he almost missed it. It was only the sharp scent of burning peat that alerted him he was close.
A knock on the door brought a thin, old voice from inside. ?One moment tae ye, be ye fairy or firbolg, giant or man. I be coming.? When the door finally creaked open, Hudson was astonished that the woman who answered was mobile. She was ancient. Her hair had thinned to wisps and her skin was wrinkled and creased ? but her eyes were still a sharp and lively blue.
?Latha math, auld mother. I hate tae trouble ye, but night comes fast, and I was hoping tae beg hospitality in exchange for doing some chores for ye.? Hudson applied his most charming smile, and it didn?t take long at all before the woman opened the door and waved him inside.
?Nae, lad, I?ve nae need of chores tae be done, but ye be welcome tae stay the night for the pleasure of the company. Ye be the first tae come by here in a year and more.? The inside of the cottage, while dark and lit only by the smoky fire on the hearth, was scrupulously clean. He set down his pack carefully to one side of the door, and then took the old woman?s hands in his own and bowed over them.
?Tapadh leibh, gracious lady. Ye are tae kind, and I am honored tae spend the evening in yer company.? That brought a blush to the old woman?s cheeks, and she waved at him to sit while she stirred the pot of stew on its hook over the fire. He did, with some relief. He was in the middle of adjusting his plaid over his shoulder when she spoke up again.
?Och, lad, be ye one of the Fraiser? I havenae seen the likes of that brooch in nigh four years now.? Oh, those words caught his ears, and had him looking up sharply. The old woman gestured in the direction of her narrow bed, and the heavy wool of an embroidered cloak draped over its end. The embroidery was painstakingly intricate, a border of stags around its hem.
Hudson caught in his breath sharply. He recognized that embroidery, that cloak. His mother had sewn it while he was a child. He had sharp memories of her sitting by the fire in the evenings, needle flashing in the light from the flames. It had been Sianna?s from the time she became old enough to treat it with care.
?Where did ye get that, auld mother?? His voice was harsh, and he had only barely restrained himself from lunging to his feet. He was almost sick with dread at her answer. The old woman looked at him steadily, and then turned back to her stew. Her voice drifted back through the room to him, barely making it through the ringing in his ears.
?Aye, and the lass gifted it tae me, lad. Sianna, she said her name was. She?d stumbled intae one of the boggy bits, and I fed and clothed her here until her own things were clean. Gave her some food for her travels, tae. The cloak had been thick with the mud, sae she gave it tae me in exchange, lad. I had the time tae properly clean and care for it, and she still had her plaid.?
Brisk movements by the old woman soon had a pair of bowls set onto the table and filled with stew. Her eyes were kindly as she watched Hudson stare at the bowl unseeing. Her voice was gentle when she continued. ?She left intae miserable weather, lad. I asked her tae stay, but she was headstrong, and determined tae gae. I havenae seen nor heard anything of her saen.?
A low groan escaped him, and he buried his head in his hands. It was some time before he joined the woman in her meal. When he set out again, in the pre-dawn hours, he left behind another token of the Fraiser clan. The silver kilt pin had the charging stag sigil worked onto its end.
Rising sun touched a distant ring of stones, and Hudson set out for it because he had no other idea of where to go. Hope was long since fled, but he couldn?t bring himself to stop searching.