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SAMPLESAMPLESAMPLESAMPLEGET THE EBOOK AT AMAZON, BARNES AND NOBLE OR SMASHWORDSGET THE EBOOK AT AMAZON, BARNES AND NOBLE OR SMASHWORDSGET THE EBOOK AT AMAZON, BARNES AND NOBLE OR SMASHWORDSGET THE EBOOK AT AMAZON, BARNES AND NOBLE OR SMASHWORDS
He decided to walk. The terrain was suitable for the horse here on the flanks of the higher hills, but Seton knew that once he got above the tree line there would be placeswhere no horse could venture. Despite the fact that it was yet autumn, he dressed for ahighland winter, in thick tunic, breeches, fur-lined boots and a heavy hooded cloak. Hehad a pair of heavy mittens in a pocket, and a flask of soup strapped to his belt alongsidea leather pouch filled with dried salted fish. The only weapons he carried were the swordin its scabbard, and a knife tucked into his woolen socks.
 
Within five minutes of leaving the castle he was sweating profusely, but after fifteen minutes he had climbed out of the forests that lined the hill and was onto a largeexpanse of open moorland. He followed a cattle trail for several miles over steadily risingland, reaching the moorland’s edge just as a steady drizzle turned to actual rain, the windgetting up to send it stinging into his cheeks. Looking up all he could see was a steepscree slope, with no discernable path though it.He sent out a finding spell. A ball of light danced in front of his face beforeheading straight up the slope. Seton sighed deeply and followed as well as he was able,sliding and stumbling among the cold wet stones. By the time he could stand on solidground he was bruised and wet through, and about as miserable as a man could be.The finding spell still hung before him. Even as he looked it moved away,heading higher up the hill. Seton had often seen the
 Bheinn
from the Inverness road. Hehad never expected to be climbing it, let alone to be hunting for a bogle.The finding spell’s light started to dim as he stepped onto a thin rutted track thatwound upwards. The top of the hill was wreathed in thick fog and Seton was glad now of the heavy clothing as the rain turned to sleet. He gripped the handle of the sword and itsent a burst of heat to him, enough to get him moving on the climb.He looked back ten minutes later, surprised at how far he had climbed. Glenmorecastle was just visible far below him and off to the west he could see the thin line of theInverness road. But everything to the south and east was blanketed in thick fog.
This is madness. I will find nothing under that.
He was about to turn and head down when a thin wailing carried in the air, a noiseso ethereal that at first he was unsure whether it was real or a result of his own blood pounding in his ears.The noise came again, closer this time, a screech that froze him immobile. Acrawling fear took root in him and his belly tumbled and roiled as nerves threatened toloosen his bowels. Everything inside him knotted in tension. All he wanted to do was curlup and wait for whatever fate might bring.The sword had other ideas.The first thing he felt was its heat at his thigh. When he gripped the hilt that heattransferred itself to him. He drew the sword from its scabbard.Blue flame ran along its length, and at the same time Seton felt the paralyzing fear wash away, like snow in rain.It had happened just in time. Something lumbered out of the fog, less than thirtyyards away. At first glance Seton thought it was a man wearing heavy furs, but he had gotthe perspective wrong in the mist. The thing facing him was near eight feet tall.The eyes were the first things that he noticed. Milky white they were, like icystones set far back in a skull covered in matted fur that might once have been grey butwas coated in muck that on closer inspection showed to be dried blood. The body wascovered in more fur, and there the beast was a pale grey, almost silver. It stood upright ontwo stout legs, and looked to be nearly three feet wide across its broad shoulders.“Let us have at it then,” Seton shouted, brandishing the sword.The beast seemed confused and clapped hands as huge as hams across its ears. Itshead was oval shaped, the skull slightly tapered at the rear. The hair was thicker there,almost mane-like where it ran down the broad back.It opened a mouth full of long yellow teeth and screamed, rising up to its fullheight and slapping at its chest with flat palms, sending a fast drumbeat echoing acrossthe hill.It was only then that Seton noticed it was female. Huge pendulous breasts hungover a distended belly that hung almost to the beast’s knees. Pink nipples the size of aman’s thumb peeked from the fur covered chest.Seton showed it the sword.“Come then,” he shouted. “Let us see what manner of bogle you might be.”
 
The beast did not move. It stared at him with unblinking white eyes.Seton took a step forward, and sent more blue flame running along the sword.The beast raised its head and
wailed 
. The closest sound to it that Seton had heardwas a wolf pack on a winter’s night.An answering howl came from higher up the hill, harsher and more guttural.
She has a mate.
Sensing the need to make this encounter a quick one, Seton moved forward withthe sword raised.The fog chose that moment to swirl and close in around him. In less than twoheartbeats he could see no more than a yard beyond the end of his sword.*He backed away, making sure he stayed on the tight path. The scree slope wassomewhere far below him, but he knew he had come more or less straight up the hill.
Surely I can find my way down?
He had barely started walking when he was stopped by a noise, a raspingcoughing sound from straight in front of him. It immediately reminded him of a seal’s barking call.As he stopped and stood still, the grass ahead of him rustled with the sound of something heavy moving around.He swung the sword up, pointing it towards the noise. He could see nothing buttufts of grass, swaying lightly in the wind.Two distinct, simultaneous coughs barked out, one from his left and one from hisright. A darker patch of grayness began to take shape in the fog, a large lumbering thing.It circled him, just outside the range of his sword. Once again terror gripped him, down tohis very bones, and even taking a tighter hold on the sword did little to dispel a sense of cold
otherness.
The fear blew away any thought of valor.He turned and ran, bounding down the hill like a deer running from dogs.He found the scree slope faster than he had anticipated. He stumbled at his secondstep on the treacherous surface, tripped and slid on his rear for long seconds beforecoming to a halt in a rattle of stones.Everything fell quiet.He pushed himself to his feet, dislodging more stones, sending then sliding awaydown the slope. The sword
 flamed 
along its length, a bright orange full of heat. As if inanswer something
howled 
from high above, soon to be joined by a second voice.A small avalanche of stones came down the slope.
They are coming after me.
Once more Seton turned and fled. He hit the bottom of the scree at a run and keptgoing across the moor, trusting to luck that he was heading in the right direction in thefog. He stumbled across the soggy ground, splashing through mud that sucked at his boots and threatened to bring him to a halt. The thought of being caught, stuck, while agray
thing 
loomed over him gave him all the impetus he needed to push on.The
howling 
rose again behind him and his bowels loosened. A squirt of piss lentsome extra but unwanted warmth in his breeks. He gripped the sword so tight that hisknuckles showed white, but it had no comfort to give him, here on this blasted heath.The moor seemed to go on forever, and he was starting to worry that he hadmissed his path completely when, like a cover being lifted from a bed, the fog dispersedand watery sunlight showed him the forest in which the castle sat. It was no more than aquarter of a mile away.
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