Lament
The sun was fading as I struggled up the track towards the bothy and I could detect the first strands of mist beginning to roll off the mountains. Not a good place to be caught out in deteriorating weather. Just ask Mountain Rescue. The Scottish Highlands are a bit like the girl of your dreams – visually beautiful, but unforgiving if you treat her wrong.
As the evening breeze died out I heard a familiar sound, distant yet distinctive, of a solo piper, playing a pibroch, a tune in the form of a lament which I did not recognise. I rounded a bend in the track, and there he was, in silhouette against the hazy setting. He stood on an outcrop, facing away to the west.
I was going to have to pass him to get to the bothy. As I did, he stopped playing and spoke in a voice which seemed to emanate from the gathering fog.
‘Stranger, you are far from a warm hearth.’ He turned towards me and regarded me with sightless eyes. His thin body was draped in plaid, but the skin that I could see was palest white, almost blue. It took an effort to suppress a shudder.
‘I am heading for the bothy at the top of the glen. I did not recognise the tune.’
‘It has no name. It is in honour of my brothers who fell at this place nearly 600 years ago. The battle has no name either.’
‘It is a very sad tune, and it does tell its story.’
His yellow teeth gleamed as his mouth twisted into something that might have been a smile. ‘Our legend says that if a stranger hears that tune I must play its successor. It is the good news that my brothers have found favour with God. I must stay on this world to play these pibroch tunes to an empty horizon.’ He blew air into the pipes.
The tune was lighter, more uplifting but compelling. As the last notes faded away I began to applaud, until I realised that the lone piper had vanished.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleGreat spooky but uplifting story. Does it have a historical context? Thanks for teaching me two new Scottish words in “bothy” and “pibroch.”
Thank you Margarida. So glad you liked the tale and the words. Sometimes I toy with the idea of writing a whole story in Scots, now that my native tongue (not to be confused with Gaelic) has been recognised as a language in its own right and not just as a dialect of English.
Re the history aspect; rule in the Scottish Highlands and Islands was very fragmented amongst dozens of ‘clans’, which were family-dominated groups of which the most powerful few, eg MacDonalds, Campbells, MacLeods etc were forever trying to strengthen their positions through obtaining pledges of loyalty from the smaller clans. The locations of small battlefields, such as the one celebrated by our piper are dotted all over the Highlands. Thank you again for… Read more »
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleA chilling story Allan, but also comforting somehow. I love how descriptive you write and the comparisons you use. Well written, as always.
Hello, Allan. It is horrifying. But how you mixed horror into history was too amazing. I wish to write something like your story in the future. Well done.
Thank you Lotchie. If you have the ambition, it will realise itself. Just let your imagination take you there.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleYou’re welcome. And thank you.
That’s a story that gives a chill… Just wonderful, I love it! I could almost hear the Piper and feel the damp fog descending, enveloping everything and everyone!
Thank you so much, Greene. It’s so gratifying when fellow writers think you’ve hit the bullseye!
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleYou have set the tale very well in its surroundings in the Scottish highlands, Allan. The description of nature matches the content in your story very well, historically and culturally. Great job!
Thank you Christer. I am a Lowland Scot who wishes he’d spent more time in the Highlands. I appreciate your comments very much.
Wonderful story, Allan. I loved the new vocabulary words and the chill up on the misty mountain, with the fog rolling in. A great setting leading to a memorable ending. Excellent work.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThank you Fuji. The location writes its own stories, when you stand there.