Chapter 3

In the morning, Lamia woke late and dozed in bed for close to an hour. There were three text messages on her phone. Two were from Maggie, asking her down to breakfast, and another saying that her and Robin were going to Glasgow, and the last one was from Sheena, saying that she was going to New Town. Unfortunately, Lamia's phone had been on silent, and missed the vibrating.

It was around noon, when Lamia finally woke and headed for the Dinning Room, to see if there was anything that she'd be able to get for lunch, not really wanting to go to the Drawing Room for afternoon tea.

What Lamia really needed to do, was learn some more history about Dalhousie Castle. Just a lot of was common knowledge was that the Ramsays of Dalhousie, a noble Scottish family descended from Simundus de Ramseia, built the castle over 800 years ago. The castle has remained in possession the family longer than any other in Scotland. King Edward I stayed there on his way to meet Sir William Wallace. In 1400, Sir Alexander Ramsay withstood a six-month siege at Dalhousie by English forces led by King Henry IV… A lot of the brochures Dalhousie Castle had proclaimed much of the same.

So it was reasonable to believe that the haunting that Lamia experienced last night, was part of that siege… But the big question was why was Lamia the only one that seemed to be experiencing this? Robin hadn't heard and voices… Maggie wasn't saying about seeing or hearing weird things. Just what was going on?

Returning to her room, Lamia pulled out her tablet. She needed to find out what was going on. Instantly going to Google, Lamia typed in Ghost Hunting Techniques. Skimming a couple of websites, Lamia realized she didn't have even half of the equipment that she needed to hunt properly; all she had was her camera, and her phone. Sighing Lamia looked around the room, before standing, pulled on her hiking books and grabbed her jacket. She'll just walk around the castle, and record her findings.

Stepping out into the hall, a loud echoing slam filled the small space. Lamia looked around her, heart pounding, but it was quiet. Of all the noises she'd heard the last few days, the door slamming scared her the most.

Lamia headed for the entrance of the Castle, and stopped dead. A cold chill down her spine, her heart slammed against her chest. There was a voice, male, but she couldn't make out the words. The voice was soft and seemed to whisper to her. The sound melted over her skin and did things to her heart she wasn't sure how to name. She looked around her again, wondering if maybe there was a couple, and a guy was saying stuff to his other half… But there were no doors; she was basically boxed in. Walls on either sides of her, a door behind her and an empty hall beyond that, and before her was the door to the foyer. Freaky!

Lamia stepped around the castle, and looked around. The Tent had been broken down, but not to far away, there was a bride and groom having their pictures taken. Apparently Dalhousie Castle was popular for weddings. Stepping around, to make sure she didn't make a cameo, Lamia headed straight for the forest.

Finding the stone bench she had sat on the afternoon before, she looked around. Sitting down, Lamia turned around, looking over her right shoulder and looked at the area behind her. This was wear she'd heard the voice yesterday. Switching, Lamia looked towards her left side and stared at the bush that had moved. Now she was lost.

Standing, Lamia stepped over the stone bench and walked into the forest, weaving herself through the foliage. She wasn't really sure what she was looking for, but this was where the voices had come from. Getting past the bushes, Lamia turned back towards the bench and looked towards the ground; there didn't seem to be footprints.

Lamia breathed in deeply, and tried to calm down. A lack of footprints meant that someone hadn't been playing a trick on her. Lamia walked deeper into the forest. Just what the heck was she doing, what was she looking for? Hell, what was she expecting?

Walking deeper into the forest, Lamia paused and rubbed the back of her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Turning around quickly, heart stopping Lamia saw… nothing. Not surprise there. Lamia walked in the direction, picking her way over fallen limbs and stepping over rocks. Lamia found herself on the edge of what looked like a basin of some kind, built into the ground. It wasn't perfectly round, and some edges were higher than the other, but it looked like it might've held water at some point. There was no rocks poking out, and it was covered in green grass and moss, and the walls were flush.

Scooting into the basin, Lamia looked around. To her right she could see the sunlight shining off what was probably a stream. To her left, was the way back to the castle; at least Lamia hoped so. There was a snap of a twig to her left and looked upwards the direction of the castle, but there was nothing there. The suspense was going to kill her at this rate. Maybe she should just forget about this whole endeavor and just go shopping! Yes, that actually sounded like a great idea.

Lamia started to climb out of the basin, finding it hard to find a foothold. Finding where the basin wasn't so steep, Lamia finally managed to get out of the hole in the ground. As Lamia got close to the edge of the forest, the sounds of metal against metal reached her ears again. Like she really needed this! Breathing in, Lamia just marched forward, broke through the forest and… stopped dead in her tracks.

Before her, were men… In kilts… On horses… Swinging large claymores… There had been no talk about… historical reenactments, or any sort of Highland Games going on… so what was going on? If Lamia didn't know any better – because there was no way in hell it was possible – she would have thought that she'd gone back in time!

"The lot of ye, are just a bunch of half-wits!" a man's voice echoed over the yard, drawing Lamia's attention to him. "Ye daf too! Ye nae listening! Stop!"

That was not any of the voices Lamia thought she'd heard before… then again, why would she have heard that voice before? She didn't go back in the past, nor had she been hearing ghosts. Not possible, her mind would not even conceive such a thing! … Then again, the kilts, tartans and sporrans looked legit… Of cause this was Scotland, so why wouldn't it?

Stepping further from the forest, Lamia spotted some archers; those certain weren't there before, and by the looks of it, they'd been there a long time. Looking to her left; the bench was gone. In fact a lot of the gardens that had covered the grounds were gone, replaced by tramped grass and a lot of dirt. That couldn't have happened in a matter of moments.

Looking back towards the men, practicing with the claymores, Lamia's mind went blank. She had no clue what to do. Should she backtrack exactly the way she'd come? Should she try for her room? What would happen if these men caught sight of her?

Taking one step backwards, Lamia started to feel a tightness in her chest; she was getting scared. Deny as she might, there was no chance this was the Dalhousie Castle that she knew.

Suddenly something moved behind her, a twig snapped, as something wrapped around her elbow and just as she was about to let out a scream, a large callused hand covered her mouth. It didn't really stop Lamia, she still screamed, but the noise was muffled and she struggled against the hands.

"Easey lass," The voice was soft, almost kind. "Naw one is gonna hurt ye." Shit, Lamia had heard that voice. 'Gravenhurst, where are you going?' It was him, it was the man she heard the other night.

For whatever reason, Lamia stopped thrashing and looked over her shoulder at the large man, her fingers biting into his own. He was handsome, even with the bushy beard and mustache that he was sporting. His hair was deep brown, and his chocolate brown eyes, had this odd calming effect on her. She tugged on his hand a little more, and after a moment he lowered his hand.

He stared at Lamia for a while, eye sweeping over her body before finally looking away, over his shoulder, before looking back at her. "Whit are ye doing here lass, and in such odd clothes? I thought ye to be a boy and a spy."

Who was to say that she wasn't a spy? Not that Lamia was going to point that fact out.

"I don't think you'd believe me, if I told you," Lamia answered, breathing in deeply. Her heart was pounding, and she wouldn't be surprised if he could feel her pulse as well.

After a moments pause, the man finally answered. "Try me lass."

Breathing in deeply, Lamia looked him straight in the eye and told him everything that she'd done that day… from waking up late; to the voices she'd heard, to going for the walk and ending up here. The man just stared at her, before raising his hand to her forehead.

"Ye dinnae seem to be sick," he mumbled to himself.

Lamia grunted and gave his chest a firm shove, which really didn't get her anything. "I'm not delusional. I swear to you, everything I said was true. I can even show you the basin I had walked through!"

"Alright lass, lets see." He said, letting her go and gesturing towards the forest.

Lamia stared up at him a moment, dumbfounded, before mustering her courage and walked him to where she remembered where the basin was. But oddly it wasn't exactly there. It was, but it was not as deep, and there was this odd ring of toadstools. Ah hell, Lamia knew what this was…

"Ye went through a Fairy Ring lass?" The man asked, surprised.

Lamia looked over her shoulder, going a little red in the face. "Apparently." Was the only answer she gave him.

The man stared at her once more, trying to gauge what was truth and what was lie. To Lamia, there was obvious that she was telling the truth. They didn't have jeans here, and her boots didn't look remotely like his… then there was her jacket and her shirt… basically, she looked like no one every would for a long time to come.

The realization seemed to dawn on the man before her a moment later, hopefully coming to the same conclusion; Lamia wasn't lying.

"All right lass," he said after a moment. "I suppose there be naw denying whit ye say to be true. I'm Bracebridge."

"I'm Lamia."

"Odd name," Bracebrige answered, crossing his… large, tree trunk-like arms. "Whit clan dae ye hail from?"

"McKnight?"

"A McKnight eh? Ain't see one of ye for a while." Bracebridge grinned, as he reached out for her. "Come along lass Lamia. Lets get ye something a lady should wear."

"There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing," Lamia argued, which got a smirk from Bracebridge.

Bracebridge lead Lamia to the castle, as she tried her best to ignore the stares from the other men. Okay, maybe this man had a point; she stuck out like a sore thumb. Walking into what Lamia new at the Front Foyer, she was actually met with the Grand Hall. Straight across the way, was a large oak chair, placed upon a dais, as the Ramsey coat of arms was set behind the chair, on the wall. Distance between the door and the throne-like chair was filled with two massively long tables, with equally long benches.

"Oh wow," Lamia whispered to herself, stumbling a bit as Bracebridge tugged on her elbow.

"Come now, lass. Hae ye nae seen a Grand Hall before?" Bracebridge asked, as he headed for a flight of stairs.

"Not one that big," Lamia answered, wiggling her arm free so she could walk up the stairs without worrying about tripping.

"Been ta small Keeps?"

"Sure." Lamia answered.

Barcebridge looked over his shoulder at her, and after a moment she looked up at him. Lamia blinked twice, her face blank. They stood there on the stairs for a long moment just staring at each other, before a man with jet black hair appeared above them.

"Bracebridge there ye are! Where hae ye been?"

Bracebridge looked up at the man, who was red in the face. From Lamia's vantage point, she could see a clean-shaven face, and blue-green eyes; definitely a colour that didn't seem common in Scotland. "Been a wee bit busy."

"Ye might wanna get yer arse up here. He's nae happy."

"When is he ever happy?"

"Aye, I ken," the black haired man answered, running a hand through his hair. "He needs some good bed sport."

"I may hae just whit he needs." Bracebridge commented as he smirked at Lamia over his shoulder.

"Oh?"

"Aye," Bracebridge answered, as he reached back, grabbed Lamia's hand and pulled her forward, placing her between the two men.

"Oie! Let go!" she cried out, but was moved and lifted as she weighed nothing.

"Ravenscliff, this is Lamia," Bracebridge grinned.

"Ye went looking for a lass?"

"I didnae go looking for her," Bracebridge answered, pushing Lamia forward. "I found her near the forest."

Ravenscliff, looked Lamia over a moment, as the trio headed up the stairs, staying quiet until they reached the top of the steps. "So ye kidnapped a fairy instead. Nae verra smart Bracebridge."

Lamia wasn't sure how to react to a comment like that. This Ravenscliff called her a fairy… From her understanding, Fairies were… pretty and nice, through rather mischievous… very Tinkerbell like. But was that a compliment in this case?

"Ravenscliff, did you find Bracebridge yet?" the voice boomed through the heavy closed oaken door. That voice sounded familiar as well, very similar to that whispered voice that she had heard.

"Aye, I found him," Ravenscliff called back. "Plus someone mair."

"Ye could nae hae waited?" Bracebridge sighed and shook his head. "I was gonna have the lass dressed properly."

"I dinnae ken there be any dresses for the lass." Ravenscliff answered, looking Lamia over again.

"Raven, William!" the voice called again, causing Bracebridge to wince.

"Damn, he called ye by yer first name," Ravenscliff commented, a smirk on his face. "Must be serious then. Lets just how him the lass."

"Aye…" Bracebridge grumbled.

These men were insane! They had to be. Lamia was so swept away that she had nothing to say… Of course she normally have very little to say in front of people she didn't know anyway. These men were large, and very intimidating. Ravenscliff stood a few inches shorter than Bracebridge. If Lamia had to guess, Bracebridge was probably six feet and three inches, while Ravenscliff looked to be maybe in the five feet twelve inches range. For some reason Lamia wondered how big the body that voice was attached too.

Stepping into the room, Lamia was met with another large square oak table. It had six matching chairs and in one of them, Lamia could see a crop of red hair. The table was littered with scrolls and pieces of parchment. What looked like a map was under the paper. A goblet with clay picture, and plate with half eaten food were set away from the papers. On three separate chairs were three claymores, and a couple of dirks.

Lamia managed to take her eyes away from the table, to look around the room. There was a fireplace set into one wall, large windows ran parallel to the fireplace, and a door was situated behind the man at the table.