The vista was so bleak that it surprised me when I spotted a woman standing at the top of a hill close to the castle. She wore long, flowing green robes and had golden hair the color of daffodils. I gasped when I saw her. Surely she was near freezing dressed in such a sheer gown. Her hair whipped wildly around her. A moment later, she beckoned. My skin turned to goose bumps, and I felt a sinking feeling inside as I peered more closely at her. I looked around. There was no one on the turret nor in the yard below. I gazed back at the blonde-haired woman. She beckoned once more then walked over the rise and out of sight.
Gathering up my skirts, I headed inside, sneaked down the hallways and the grand staircase, and ran out the front gate. The snow was deep. I hadn’t taken more than ten steps, however, when someone called my name.
“Corbie?” I turned to see Tavis, who was new to our household then, at the gate. He’d just come back from riding. His horse’s winter coat, its hair long, was covered with small balls of ice. “Where are you going?”
“I…” What would I say? “I saw a woman on the hill.”
“A woman? Out in this weather? Are you certain?”
I nodded vigorously. “I swear it. I was on the turret. I saw her from there. She is wearing green robes.”
“Which direction?”
I pointed to the hill where I had seen the golden-haired woman.
Tavis lent me his hand then pulled me on horseback in front of him. “And just what were you doing on the turret?” he asked with a chuckle as we rode off in the direction of the hill.
“Avoiding needlework?”
Tavis laughed. “Just like your lovely aunt, always up to mischief.”
Tavis’ horse fought through the heavy snow. The wind blew icy cold across the hill. My nose froze, turning red. I pulled my arms inside my coat and wrapped them around me.
“Bitter cold. A person would freeze outside tonight once the sun goes down,” Tavis said as we neared the hill. He rode to the top, but there was no sign of the woman anywhere.
Puzzled, I looked around. “Where did she go?”
Tavis scanned the ground. “No footprints.”
“Wind must have blown them awa—” I was beginning to say when I saw the woman again. She was walking over a small rise near the loch in the valley below. Her green robes and yellow hair still blew around her. She stopped and beckoned to me.
“There! There she is!” I said to Tavis, pointing excitedly toward the woman.
He peered in the distance. “Where?”
“Near the loch.”
“Near the loch? I only see trees.”
Again, the woman passed over the hill and disappeared.
“There, she just passed the rise. She must be lost. Hurry before it gets dark.”
Tavis reined his horse in, and we fought the deep snow. The castle was lost behind us in the gusting wind. We couldn’t even see our path back.
“Corbie, are you certain?” Tavis asked again. “There is nothing in this direction for twenty leagues. Why would a woman be out here?”
“I don’t know, but she was just there. I swear.”
We rode through the snow, finally reaching the rise where the woman had gone. We reached the pinnacle just as the sun dropped below the horizon. I scanned the frozen wasteland around us. The woman was nowhere to be seen.
“Corbie?”
I looked all around. Surely she was there. I scanned the vista. For a brief moment, I thought I saw the woman. She appeared as a shimmer on the distant horizon. I squinted to look closer. When I did, however, the woman disappeared, and I saw five black dots against the white snow, barely visible in the whipping wind.
“There, do you see that?” I asked, pointing.
Tavis following my gaze. He held his hand to his brow and gazed off into the distance. “Men,” he said then.
“Who? Alister’s men?”
The small party moved toward us. In the fading sunlight, amongst the party, I saw a flash of color.
Tavis clicked to his horse and headed in the direction of the party. “Did you see? Did you see that too?” he quizzed me, his voice quivering with excitement.
How could I miss it? The party rode carrying a standard boasting a black raven winging across an amethyst background. It was the standard of Boite. My father had come.
We crossed the snow quickly and soon we met with the other party. My father rode with four other men, a young one of whom appeared to be injured. Boite was bent in the snow wrapping one of his men’s forearm. He hadn’t yet recognized me, but I could never mistake him, even though I had not seen him for at least two years. He looked enormous under the weight of his heavy furs. His head was covered by a wolf pelt, the face of the wolf hovering on his forehead.
“Hail, Your Lordship,” Tavis called as he neared them.
“Are we near the castle of Lord Alister?” one of my father’s men called.
My father gave us a quick, passing glance as he worked at the boy’s arm, setting it in a sling.
“Yes, My Lord. I am the castle sentinel. The castle is but a league behind us.”
“Good,” my father said as he finished then helped the boy up and back on his horse. “We got turned around in this accursed weather. The damned horse spooked and tossed my standard bearer. His arm might well be broken. I need to get him to sist—” Boite was saying when he finally turned and looked at Tavis and me.
Finally, he rested his pale, violet-colored eyes on me. “Gruoch?”
“Father,” I said with a smile, trying to hide my excitement.
My father moved quickly across the deep snow, the drift reaching up to his knees, toward me. It almost seemed as if the snow moved to make way for him. He pulled me from Tavis’ horse and cradled me in his arms, pressing me tightly against his chest. When he finally relaxed his arms, he looked down at me, studied my face closely, then kissed me on my forehead. “By the Gods, what brings you out in this weather?”
I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him I’d followed a phantom woman? “Why, the Gods, of course.”
Boite laughed. The sound of his voice echoed through the valley. “Then praise be to the Gods, because we were lost, my young man here is hurt, and night is upon us. Not to mention, I brought you a gift,” my father said, motioning to a black horse tethered to his own steed: Kelpie. “I think you might have saved your daddy’s life,” he told me then kissed me on the forehead.
My father set me on his horse then turned and helped his wounded man mount. Once the man was secure, Boite swung up behind me. “Lead on, good man,” he told Tavis.
Motioning to his men to follow, my father fell in behind Tavis, and we headed back through the deep snow and gusting wind toward the castle. I loved the feel of my father. He held me with one arm around my stomach, holding the reins with his other gloved hand. His black beard was grown long and was full of small balls of ice and snow. He wore heavy skins and wool clothes. His horse snorted in the cold wind, steam curling from its nostrils. The temperature was dropping fast now that the sun had set. It had grown very cold. I shivered in my gown under my heavy cloak.
“Well, Little Raven,” he whispered in my ear. His voice was deep and gruff but not unkind. “Now tell me, how did you find us?”
Something told me he already knew. “I saw a woman.”
“A woman? What did she look like, my little fledging?”
“Yellow hair the color of daffodils and long green robes.”