THE FAERIE HILLS (A Muirteach MacPhee Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “Two days ago it was. He went with his foster-brother Dòmhnall up to near the Tràigh Bàn, to look for that red cow that had wandered away from near Beinn Beag, but then he and Dòmhnall were quarreling over something and Dòmhnall left him there. And he never came home.”

  “Could he have taken a boat out?”

  Rhoderick shook his head. “There are no boats missing. And the boys were walking to the Tràigh Bàn.”

  “Well, I had better be coming with you then.” I looked at the sky, where the sun was just disappearing. A shaft of light streamed out through a break in the now purple clouds, turning all I saw to molten gold.

  “Were they sending word to Finlaggan about it all?” I asked.

  Rhoderick shook his head. “Your uncle has sent a man to Benbecula, to tell the boy’s parents. But I am thinking he is hoping the lad will turn up before he is having to tell his grandfather.”

  “Well, we had best be on our way and looking for him, then,” I said, with more confidence than I was feeling. “It is late to be sailing tonight, though.”

  “And the crew is tired,” put in Rhoderick.

  “Tomorrow morning? Will that suit? Come in and rest.”

  I turned to Alsoon, who had already sent her husband to gather some extra bracken for beds. “Alsoon, prepare for these visitors. It will not be fancy, but I can promise you men full stomachs tonight and a dry place for sleeping. We leave at first light tomorrow.”

  * * * * *

  The next day dawned fair and bright, and we set off early in the small birlinn Rhoderick had brought from Colonsay. I had not intended to bring my dog, but the hound whined so as we boarded that at the last minute I brought him with us. The crossing went swiftly, and it was soon enough that we beached the boat on the small cove at Scalasaig. I left the harbor and started the climb up the hill to Dun Evin, my uncle’s home, with Somerled by my side, as I had so many times before.

  Gillespic, my uncle, was chief of the Clan MacPhee. Dun Evin was his home, a fine fort overlooking the town of Scalasaig on the Isle of Colonsay which was all the territory we MacPhees had to our names. A fine enough island it was, for all that it was not overlarge. Advocates at the Court might argue that we held the land through the grant of King Robert Steward to the Lord of the Isles, and from him to my uncle, the chief of our small clan. But whatever they might say, we who lived on Colonsay knew that the MacPhees had held the island back to the time when Celt and the Norse vied for control of this land. The king in Edinburgh could think what he wished about it all.

  I turned at the entrance to the dun, taking the moment to rest my bad leg. As a young child I had caught the fever, and after that my right leg had grown weak and crooked, causing me to limp. After the steep climb up the hill to the fort, the muscles of my leg pained me.

  I gazed down on the little port of Scalasaig, the harbor, and the sound. Farther away across the water, the Paps of Jura rose out of the bulk of that island, and a bit further to the southeast lay Islay. It was a fine day for October, the sun shone brightly on the water and Colonsay looked green and gentle to my eyes. Too gentle for such sad happenings as lost young boys. I squared my shoulders, turned back, and greeted the guards at the entrance to the dun. They smiled to see me and Somerled, then let me pass, and I entered my uncle’s fortress.

  Somerled immediately started barking at my uncle’s hounds, who bayed back, starting a ruckus. There was a frenzy of howling and the courtyard became a maelstrom of dogs, jumping and sniffing at each other.

  Uncle Gillespic stood in the forecourt, looking solemn, covered with mud and dirt. He had been speaking with some of his luchd-tighe, but broke the conversation off at the noise of the dogs. “Stop that,” he yelled, but the dogs ignored him. Perhaps they did not hear him for all the noise they were making. My uncle’s hazel eyes brightened a bit when he saw me, lightening the tension in his face.

  “And here is Muirteach. And you were bringing your dog as well. We shall see what you are thinking of it all.”

  I embraced my uncle, who gripped my shoulders hard a moment before he let go. It had been some months since I had seen him, and I realized how I had missed him. Somerled nosed around my uncle and me, adding to the general confusion.

  “You are looking fine, Muirteach. You’ve put on some weight. Sure, it must be that Islay is agreeing with you these days. You are not missing your house in Scalasaig?”

  “Well, I am not missing the leaky roof,” I hedged. “But what has happened?”

  Gillespic’s eyes darkened. “Niall and Dòmhnall went off to the Beinn Beag, to bring some of the cattle back from pasture, and that red cow had wandered off. That one is always wanting to go up to the shielings whenever she is getting the chance. But then Niall had some fey idea about looking for faerie gold up there. He was saying he had found some on the rocks nearby.”

  That did not sound so dire to me, like many a boys’ expedition. I said so, although most boys were quick enough to return to the dun when they got hungry. And Niall had been missing for three days now.

  “Och, yes. But then Dòmhnall was thinking it might not be such a fine thing to be doing, he was feared the sithichean would be angered and come and take them away over it all. I am telling you, Muirteach, I will be sending that boy to the priory. I do not think he will be making a chief, not that one.”

  “Aye.” I agreed, thinking of my young cousin, dark-haired like myself, and studious. “Dòmhnall will be liking it there, I am thinking. He does not seem to be much of a boy for adventure. He will make a fine priest. A better one than I did.” I had spent time at the nearby priory as a youth, but had left there while in my teens. I had no wish to be a monk, but it might suit Dòmhnall well.

  “But what of Niall?” I continued.

  “Well, Dòmhnall left him. Which is fine enough. Niall knows the island well, for all that he is not old. He has been here for two years. But he did not come home. That was three days ago, and we have not seen him yet.”

  “And you’ve searched for him?”

  “Fergus and Seamus have been combing the hills and the caves as well. They’ve found nothing. And I was clambering in and out of the caves by the Tràigh Bàn all day. As you can see.” My uncle gestured to his muddy clothes.

  “And what does Dòmhnall say of it all?”

  “Just that he left him there, up near the Carnan Eoin, that big hill that overlooks the beach.”

  “They could have squabbled. You know what boys are like. You raised me, after all. Perhaps Niall is hiding to get Dòmhnall in trouble.”

  My uncle looked grave. “I am not thinking so, Muirteach, and neither are you.” I nodded. “Well, let’s away in then, and be speaking with your aunt about it all.”

  Aunt Euluasaid was in the kitchen, seeing to a roasting side of venison. Although her coif was as white and neat as ever, I could see the redness in her eyes and I guessed it had not come from the smoke from the fire.

  “Muirteach!” She gave me a warm embrace. As I held her I could feel her start to cry again.

  “There now, Auntie,” I said awkwardly. “We will be finding him.” Surely we would find him, lost in the hills or hiding out at Dùnan nan Nighean, playing soldier.

  “Aye.” She broke away and dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “I am praying you will, Muirteach, for you are a wise one. I am just praying you will not be finding him too late.”

  Of a sudden the memory of my dream sprang to my mind again, the funeral procession, the torches. I shuddered involuntarily, then hoped my aunt had not noticed the movement.

  If she did, she did not remark on it.

  “But, Muirteach,” my aunt continued, “here you are just off the boat and you have not eaten. Is it hungry you are? Elidh,” she called to one of the women, “just be getting some of those fresh oatcakes and some of that meat for Muirteach, something just to tide you over until the meal that will be coming.”

  Somerled loitered near the door, hopefully eyeing the roasting meat. “And Muirteach,�
�� my aunt added, “get that dog out of my kitchen.”

  I shooed him back out to the courtyard while Elidh brought the food, then ate hungrily while my aunt told me what little she knew.

  “The young amadan was speaking of the sithichean, more and more often he spoke of them,” she said. “He was forever wanting to go over to Oronsay, and the hollow hills that are there. I was warning him against it, and Dòmhnall says he warned him too, and I am thinking that he did. For all that my Dòmhnall is not a brave one, he does not lie.” She paused and looked at me a moment, and I was glad to see a faint smile on her face. “He minds me of you, Muirteach, especially now that he is growing older. You have the same gray eyes as my son.”

  “And so what was Niall doing there?” I changed the topic back to the missing boy.

  “He wanted to dig them up. The faerie hills. Niall swore they were filled with gold, and he seemed to have no fear of the sithichean. And he was forever bringing things back with him, even when we sent him to watch the cattle. There near Beinn Beag. A faerie arrow he found, one time. And something else.”

  “What was that, Auntie?”

  “Have you finished? No? Well, just a moment and I will be getting it for you, then.”

  I crammed the rest of the oatcake in my mouth and gulped the last of my ale. “It’s fine, Aunt. I’ve finished. And your oatcakes are as fine as ever they were.”

  Aunt Euluasaid barely acknowledged the compliment, which told me how worried she was.

  I followed her out of the kitchen and into the hall, then behind a partition at the back of the room to the chamber she shared with my uncle. A shaft of sunlight from a small window dimly illuminated the room. She took from behind the bed a small whalebone casket, richly carved with an interlacing design, opened it and removed something.

  “Look, Muirteach,” she said, holding out her hand.

  I saw a gold ring lying on her palm. The beam of sunlight caught it and played with it a moment, sending glimmers through the darkness. A small enough thing it was, a sheet of gold curved and shaped as a rounded disc, with a narrow opening in the center of the piece. Smaller wires of gold wrapped around it to make a ring shape.

  “Dia,” I murmured. “Faerie gold.”

  Euluasaid shrugged, and returned it to the casket. “Dòmhnall said Niall was bringing it back one day from the Tràigh Bàn; Niall had found it on one of the hills near Beinn Beag. And when Dòmhnall found it after Niall disappeared, he did not know what to do with it, and hid it. But then he was thinking better of it and was bringing it to me. Oh, Muirteach,” she cried, breaking down again, “the sithichean have stolen the lad! For he has taken their gold.” I felt the hairs on my neck prickle and rise and a chill spread down my back at her voice.

  “I am thinking it is someone else’s gold,” I replied, with more confidence than I felt. “But we will find him. Do not worry, we will find him.”

  Chapter 2

  I walked with my aunt back to the kitchens, and then I went to find Uncle Gillespic.

  “So where have you searched?” I asked him.

  “We’ve asked with the monks at the priory, we’ve searched the caves near the beaches, we’ve asked at every cottage on that side of the island. I sent Fergus up to Dùnan nan Nighean, to see if he had gone to ground there. We even checked at Cill Chaitrìona. I had twenty men out searching for him yesterday, after I sent Rhoderick for you. Nothing. He’s vanished clean away.”

  “Euluasaid thinks the sithichean have him,” I said, and then I told him of the piece of gold.

  Gillespic spat and balefully eyed the sun, which was starting to descend in the western sky, as if it was to blame for his missing foster-son. “Aye, she was telling me something of the sort.” He spat again, as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth, and turned away from the sun.

  “Where is Dòmhnall? And Malcolm?”

  “They are out searching for him still. As was I, until just before you arrived here.”

  The sun was starting to set. It grew dark somewhat earlier these days in October, and the air felt chill. “Are you wanting to go out again today?”

  “Muirteach, I am not knowing where to look. That is why I was sending Rhoderick over for you. I am hoping you can help us—you must.”

  “I will do what I can. Surely a lad can not disappear into the air. He must be someplace.”

  “Aye, I am hoping so. He is a good lad, for all that he is so wild.”

  “Have there been visitors here lately?” That last was a foolish question, for always there was someone visiting at my uncle’s dun.

  “Just Lachlan’s second cousin Liam, from Mull. He left two days ago, although he is to return soon. He acts as Lachlan’s messenger-boy when he is needing one. And some MacRuaris from Uist. Griogair and Raghnall, they are called. They came on business from the Gorrie there at Lochboisdale. He has a daughter he is wanting to marry to Malcolm. They are still here. I am thinking that Raghnall has met a woman he likes down in Scalasaig, and he is not wanting to return to Uist too quickly.”

  I had noticed the two strangers sitting by my uncle’s hearth when I had entered the hall. “They are knowing the boy’s father,” Gillespic continued. “But they were helping us look all yesterday and were with me the days before that.”

  “Could he have gone into the sea for a swim? Perhaps he drowned?”

  “It was not that warm that day. And I am not certain the lad knows how to swim, for all that he is a good sailor.”

  True enough that was. The sea was cold in October. And most island men do not swim, as Seamus and I had discovered that summer to our misfortune, when our boat had gone down.

  “Well, I shall talk to Malcolm and Dòmhnall when they return. Perhaps he showed them where he found the gold, and they know more of it.”

  It was soon enough that Gillespic’s two sons returned, dispirited, to the dun.

  “And no one has seen anything of him?”

  Malcolm, the older, shook his head, his mouth full of oatcake. “No, cousin. Not a sign of him.”

  “Nor noticed anything unusual?”

  Malcolm chewed more slowly. “I am thinking one old woman who is living up there by the beach was talking of seeing someone out on the sands. It was one of the nuns she complained of seeing. From the nunnery up by Balnahard,” he added helpfully, before reaching for another oatcake.

  “What woman was that?” I asked.

  “It was old Àine, the one living near the caves there. On the south side of the Tràigh Bàn, overlooking the beach. Fergus’s aunt. But she is so old, you can not always be believing what she is saying.”

  “Muirteach, can you not go and speak with her?” my aunt pleaded. “Perhaps she was seeing Niall, and was then forgetting it.”

  The torch flared up a moment.

  “Aye, Auntie,” I replied. “I’ll go and speak with her. Tomorrow.”

  “Take Fergus with you,” added my uncle. “And good horses. You’ll make better time that way.”

  I took a mether of ale and sat down next to the two strangers near the warmth of the fire. “So you are from Uist?” I asked.

  The tall one nodded. “I am called Griogair, and this is Raghnall.”

  “I am Muirteach. I am nephew to the MacPhee.”

  “Yes,” said Griogair, his smile lightening his lean features. “We were hearing of you. It was you that found that madman last summer, on Islay. It was the talk of all the Isles.”

  I nodded, a little embarrassed. “Luck was with me on that day.” I changed the subject. “That Niall who is missing is from Uist. Were you knowing him there?”

  He nodded. “He is from Benbecula, not Uist,” Griogair corrected me. “We are knowing his father, Ranald, who is son to His Lordship. He has lands in Benbecula.”

  “It is a strange thing,” I said. “For a boy to disappear like that.”

  “Aye,” replied the shorter of the men with a scowl, then he returned to his ale.

  “Are you knowing the boy well?” I persisted
.

  “I am knowing the boy’s father,” Raghnall finally said, still scowling at his ale. “And I have seen his son a time or two since I have been here. That is all.”

  “Would anyone be wanting to harm the boy that you can think of?”

  “Surely no one on Colonsay. The family is from Benbecula, and kin to the MacDonald himself. No one would be wanting to bring his wrath down on them. And he’s just a lad, after all. No. He has vanished. We have searched for him. The sithichean have him, and that is that.” He spat on his hand and crossed himself.

  * * * * *

  I slept badly, although I did not remember my dreams, but I tried to put a hopeful face towards the task of finding the boy as we set out the next morning just at sunrise. Dòmhnall insisted on coming with us, and as he had been the last to see his foster brother, it seemed wise to me to take him. With the horses my uncle gave us we made good enough time and so it was still early in the day when we reached the Tràigh Bàn and Àine’s dwelling. It stood a little way off from some other huts, which belonged to Fergus’s parents and his brothers, and looked northward over the fine golden expanse of the beach. Even on a dull and cloudy day such as that morning, with a bit of rain falling and a cold wind blowing the leaves off the rowan tree that stood by Àine’s cottage, the sight was impressive.

  “Where did you leave Niall?” I asked Dòmhnall, who had come with Fergus and me.

  “Just over there.” He pointed towards Beinn Beag. “We had gathered the cattle and were coming back. We had not found that red cow that is forever going off on her own, when Niall stopped and picked something up from the ground. Then he was saying he would just be staying a bit longer there and would not be coming back with me. He wanted to go dig, up by that old cairn. I followed him and warned him of the sithichean, but he would not listen to me.”

  A quaver in his voice stopped his speaking for a moment.

  “It is not your fault, Dòmhnall,” I said, putting my hand awkwardly on his shoulder, wishing I knew how to help him.

  “Aye, it is so,” continued the boy. “I am the older, and I should have stopped him.” He bit his lip, to stop its trembling, I guessed.