Fight of the Sorceress: Rise of the Kelpies

By LJ Bushman

Margaret Campbell lost her family to war between the humans and the magical folks. Only, the humans had magical help from those seeking power.

Margaret does not know of her heritage, but seeks out her family's history as an adult. In returning to the village for the first time since the massacre, strange feelings and memories begin to resurface.

In her quest to find herself and people like her, Margaret steps into the very war which had claimed her parents. More, the others seem to think she needs to lead them.

Margaret must learn to bond with the Kelpies and lead others in order to save her friends, what's left of her people, but she doesn't know if she can.

How can she fight those powerful enough to kill her parents and win?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leona Bushman
• Release date: Mar 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386766193

Book preview

Dedication

Thank you to my editor, S.H. Sheffield. For my family, especially my teens, for helping me around the house as I did edits. To Mykel, who has helped me to keep writing even when I wanted to give up on myself. And to my Muse. Forever my inspiration.

Prologue

Scotland 1077

So much blood. Just like before. Six year old Margaret Campbell secreted herself behind the large wooden wheel, eyes squeezed tightly shut to push away the gruesome sight, her hands clenched over her ears to drown out the sounds of the clashing swords and frantic screams surrounding the carriage. Her tear stained face dirty, she didn't cry now. Before, she’d seen too much blood. Her parents and all the villagers must be dead, killed by the people who had forced her to leave. Only a few lived that she saw, those stolen and taken away. The horses’ hooves and people's feet tangled in her vision, but she remained sitting under the stolen carriage. Now, someone else had attacked them and more people died.

Horses neighed, their feet stomping like her brothers when angry. Loud metal noises clanged and scared her, even though she tried hard to shut them out. War cries and grunts, pain, it all washed over her, making her sad and even more scared than when the others came to her village and hurt people. Now she understood what those sounds meant.

After a long time, the thuds and yells stopped, so she peeked open her eyes. A man, his kind eyes staring at her in concern, held out a hand to her under the carriage. It was covered in metal of some sort, but she took hers off her ears and put it in his.

Come, little one. His voice was gravelly, like an old man, but he didn't look like her grandpa. It confused her.

She stared wide eyed at him, unable to speak.

Can you speak, my child?

She nodded. She learned to speak young, but since the others had slaughtered her mother in front of her, no words would come.

What is your name?

M-m- The sounds stuck in her throat. Tears stung her eyes.

He kissed her cheek. It will be fine, child. So your name starts with an M?

She nodded, vigorously this time.

Shall we play a guessing game? He smiled at her as he spoke, and she smiled back. He reminded her of her Uncle Alex. Mary? Matilda? Merida?

She made a face at Matilda. There was a girl named Matilda back home who picked on all the little ones like her.

The kind man laughed. Not Matilda for sure. Mary? Margaret?

She clapped her hands, giving him her best smile.

Hello, Margaret. I am Sir Cedric. Can you tell me where you're from?

Sadness filled her heart again. She bowed her head and shook it no. She knew the name, but her mouth still refused to form the words.

He held her close. I will take you home with me to be cared for. Would you like that?

She nodded shyly, still sad. Her parents were dead. Maybe this kind man who'd saved her would help her.

He put her on a horse, then swung his leg over the saddle, settling in, and held her with one arm. With wide eyes, she stared at the carriage and around her. Many lifeless bodies lay strewn across the road. Those on horses started to line up behind Sir Cedric, some of them with children like her, but younger. She was the oldest child taken by the group she was with.

Tears dropped down her cheeks, but she was afraid to let go of the horse, even with Sir Cedric's arm around her. He pulled her in close.

Shhhh, little one. It will be all right. You and the other children will be cared for by my people.

The days passed in a blur. Her whole body hurt, but she refused to complain, or even cry. In the whole trip, she'd barely spoken, not trusting anyone but Sir Cedric, though she could now say nay and yea. The other children laughed and joked together on break times, but she just watched.

When they arrived at the keep, a little girl stared up at them as they passed.  Margaret liked the look of her, and something clicked within her. When Sir Cedric let her down, she searched for the little girl, finding her close by.

The girl smiled shyly. Hi, my name is Sarah.  What is your name?

My name is Margaret.

Want to be friends?

Margaret nodded.

Then we shall. Sarah nodded firmly. I will show you where to play and where to stay out of. My mom works in the kitchens, so I am around the main house every day.

Sarah. Sir Cedric came up behind Margaret and put his hand on her shoulder. I see you have met my new daughter. I will be fostering her.

Sarah's eyes widened. For a moment, Margaret feared she would take back her offer of friendship.

Can I still be Margaret's friend? I just promised I would, Sarah asked earnestly.

Sir Cedric's kind laugh washed over Margaret, giving her a feeling of peace. Of course, Sarah. I expect you to teach her about all the people in the keep. And, since you are older, you may show her around after I've introduced her to her new family.

Margaret smiled shyly at Sarah and nodded happily while taking Sir Cedric's hand. He then led her into the largest place she'd ever seen.

Chapter 1

Mist lay over the hills of Cairn Gorhn. It swirled around Margaret and Sarah as they rode, as if welcoming her home. Taken from her lands when a young child, she'd still felt the calling to return here. She'd been raised as a Christian in Sir Cedric's household, but the healer had taught her so much more.

Her red hair and blue eyes earned her the nickname Fire and Ice before she could speak among the villagers. The old woman, who claimed to be a secret bandrúi, had taught her more than the Christian fathers would have approved, claiming it was the balance