Road to Lag

By Alison Hill

Robyn is a high-flying businesswoman whose life revolves around her career. She is made to take a holiday by her boss, and sticking a pin in a map, she finds herself in Dumfries and Galloway on the borders of Scotland. She books into Abbots Tower, a very old hotel with a varied history.

Situated near to the hotel are the remains of Lag Tower, the once home to Sir Robert Grierson of Lag, a brutal and evil persecutor of the Covenanters in the 17th century. His spirit was imprisoned by his old adversary, Alexander Peden, centuries before, but now he has been released and the death toll grows.

As a child, Robyn could see ghosts, and that gift is reignited when she arrives at Abbots Tower. She relives some of Lag's most heinous crimes through dreams and begins to realise he is behind what is happening at the hotel. She falls in love with Mike, part owner of Abbots Tower, and wants to help him save the hotel.

With the aid of the ghost of Prophet Peden and her new friends, Robyn sets out to destroy Lag before he can harm anyone else.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781528965194

Alison Hill

Alison Hill is a writer and poet specialising in the arts and heritage. She was awarded an Arts Council grant to support her third poetry collection, Sisters in Spitfires, which celebrates the lives and flights of the women pilots of the Air Transport Auxiliary. Her previous publications are Slate Rising, Lyrical Beats and Fifty Ways to Fly (ed.), which featured a poem by Pauline Gower and was sold in support of the British Women Pilots’ Association. Alison is an RSA Fellow and a member of the Spitfire Society.

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Epilogue

About the Author

Alison lives and works in Edinburgh. When she is not trying to complete her endless to-do list, she travels around Scotland with her two dogs to find local ghost stories and gain historical knowledge. She hunts for unique and interesting places with old folklore and legends to write about. Sometimes she is accompanied with one of her five children, sometimes her grandchildren, yet there are always magical adventures to be had that make each trip memorable.

Dedication

This one is for Mum. For always believing in me.

Copyright Information ©

Alison Hill (2019)

The right of Alison Hill to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528927727 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528965194 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgment

I would like to thank my daughter, Amanda, who allowed me to drag her to every haunted house, castle and graveyard I could find on our trip to Friars Carse near Dumfries. I’m kind of disappointed that séance didn’t work, but drinking wine out of hotel teacups so we could use the bathroom glasses to try and contact spirits was very funny. The only spirits we saw that night did not come from beyond the grave.

The Prince of Darkness his Lamentation for, and commendation of his trusty and well-beloved friend, the Laird of Lag, who died, December 23, 1733.

Where in the Prince of Darkness sets forth the Commendation of many of his best friends, who were chief promoters of his interest, and upholders of his Kingdom in the name of Persecution.

What fatal news in this I hear!

On earth who shall my standard bear

For Lag, who was my champion brave

Is dead, and now laid in his grave.

The want of him is a great grief;

He was my manager and chief,

Who fought my kingdom to promote,

And to my laws he had great love.

Could such a furious fiend as I

Shed tears, my cheeks would never dry;

But I would mourn both night and day,

’Cause Lag from earth is ta’en away.

It is no wonder I am sad,

A better friend I never had.

Excerpt from ‘ An Elegy in Memory of that Valiant Champion, Sir Robert Grierson Late Laird of Lag’ by the Prince of Darkness. Variously attributed to William Irvine, schoolmaster of Hoddam, John or a William Wilson, schoolmaster of Douglas.

Copied from the 11th edition printed in Glasgow 1777.

Prologue

Sophia fell over. God, I’m drunk, why can’t you shine the torch this way, it’s pitch black out here, not to mention spooky.

It was your idea, laughed Dougie shining the torch in her direction. It’s a load of old nonsense you’re dragging me into.

You won’t be saying that when you get your hands on the treasure, replied Sophia pulling herself to her feet.

There was something about being in this graveyard that stood alone at the top of a hill, which made Sophia giggle with nerves. The wine they had drunk had a lot to do with it also.

It’s over here, said Dougie shining the torch on a huge tombstone. Are you sure you want to do this? He has a bad reputation around here.

Of course, that’s why we came here. Don’t look so nervous, it’s not as if it’s really going to work, said Sophia pulling out a couple of glass jars from the bag she was carrying. It’s just for a laugh, and then we can tell Ben we managed to raise old Lag from the dead and he showed us where the gold was.

Ben doesn’t get here until the end of the week, we could have the gold by then and be long gone, said Dougie pulling Sophia to him and planting a kiss on her cheek. She reached up and kissed him on the mouth, then pulled away giggling again.

You’ll have to dig up the grass that’s covering his grave so that only the soil is exposed, said Sophia reading from a piece of paper covered in scribbled notes.

Less of the ‘you’ and more of the ‘we’, my love, said Dougie handing her one of the two trowels he had brought just for this purpose.

They set to work removing the grass from the top of the grave and when they were finished, Sophia put the glass jars on either side of the tomb. She had already cut some of her hair and lined the bottom of each jar with it. She then pulled out two black candles, lit them and put one in each jar.

Now what? asked Dougie.

Now I have to drop my blood on the grave and say these words, said Sophia pricking her finger with a small knife.

She let her blood fall onto the packed soil ground on top of the coffin. Then she called out the words that she had copied from a black magic book.

Neopheyn! Barbas! Aligon! Anaboth! Madicon! Furcas!

They stood in silence for a minute. Then Dougie burst out laughing, Is that it!

Yes, he should be floating around us now, said Sophia trying to keep her face straight.

Erm, I don’t think it worked, said Dougie grabbing hold of her.

No, I don’t think so either, she laughed. I guess we’ll have to wait for Ben, and plan B.

They headed back to their car just as the rain began to fall, followed by a rumble of thunder. Sophia squealed in mock fear, and they ran to the car and drove off back down the one lane mud track.

Lag’s ghost arose from his prison and found he was staring down at his tomb that had trapped him for centuries. Who had released him? Why had they gone? He was weakened and in need of his master’s dark power. Then at last he felt the familiar pull of his master’s demonic forces, leading him onwards, but to where?

The Prophet, Alexander Peden, stood on Halliday Hill overlooking Lag Tower. Lag was free again, and Peden was called back from his eternal sleep to trap him once more, but Lag had not returned to his home. All that was left of Lag Tower was a crumbling ruin. So where had his spirit gone?

Chapter One

Crap! Robyn screwed up the council tax bill and threw it across the room of her Kensington apartment. Why was she doing this? She had fought her way up the corporate ladder, battling the misogynistic legal assholes that dominated corporate law, only to be labelled a bitch, a ball breaker or a lesbian control freak. She was thirty-four now, and it still hadn’t got any easier. Yes, she ran her own legal team for an international company, she should be proud. So why did she feel like she was at a loose end?

Her apartment was valued at just over a million, certainly not plush by the standards of other apartments in the affluent borough of Kensington, though this ridiculous council tax bill did not reflect that. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford it, it was more of a question of what she actually got from paying it. How often was she actually at home? She was somewhere in Europe almost every week, visiting the company’s numerous sites. Her travel bag was permanently packed, ready to go at a moment’s notice, which generally was all the notice she was given. She worked late every night, and then debated whether she should go straight to the gym or the pub. More and more often, the pub was winning out these days. Then what did she do there? She was always with work colleagues, so inevitably, the conversation was always about work. There was no break from it.

She looked around her small front room of what was described as a spacious three bedroom, luxury apartment. In London terms, it probably was spacious, but every time Robyn went home (she still called her parents’ house home), she was reminded of how closeted she actually was. Even painting the walls in each room, a different shade of cream, had done nothing to make it feel any more spacious. She walked to the large window that overlooked the London Street below. It was rubbish day and there were tatty black bin bags of rubbish piled up all along the street, many had already fallen victim to the city foxes and their contents spilled out over the pavements.

The Starbucks across the road was full of people as usual, and the new wine bar next door had its metal shutters half way up, indicating that someone had arrived to start the opening process. Robyn sighed, she had a month off, the first holiday in, well, she couldn’t remember how long.

It hadn’t been her idea; it was the new head of the HR department had demanded she take it. Robyn and the new HR boss, Amanda Jenkins, had clashed the moment they set eyes on each other. She had been called into Amanda’s office for a one to one, as all the heads of departments were expected to do. Amanda had gone through Robyn’s company record with a fine toothcomb, which irritated Robyn to begin with. Why was this woman so interested in Robyn’s career history? What the hell had it got to do with her? Then, Amanda started to ask a lot of (as far as Robyn was concerned) totally inappropriate questions.

Where did she consider home?

Did she have a partner?

What were her hobbies outside work?

What did she do to relax?

How often did she come in at weekends to work extra hours?

Robyn felt attacked, and her irritation showed as she demanded to know how answering any of these questions had anything to do with her work. It was then that Amanda pointed out that there had been a small number of complaints about Robyn’s dismissive attitude towards some of the staff. Staff that, as far as Robyn was concerned, she had very little to do with, and did not bring any value to her daily routine. Amanda then dared to suggest that perhaps Robyn should look at the way she interacted with people around the office. Robyn blew her top, how dare this woman, who had only been with the company five minutes, tell her how to treat her staff.

As things escalated, Robyn did not hold back when she went on to tell Amanda that as far as she was concerned, they had made a bad choice in hiring her as the new HR boss and that Amanda clearly did not know who she was dealing with. Robyn then got to her feet, glared at her nemesis who was still sitting calmly behind her desk, before storming back to her office. Robyn was furious and didn’t notice that most of her staff hid behind their computer screens, refusing to make eye contact with her as she sat simmering with rage.

An hour later, Robyn’s mood had not improved when she received a phone call from Gary Howard, the company CEO, asking her to come to his office. She had already decided she was going to complain about her one to one with Amanda, so this would be a good opportunity. Her adrenalin was still pumping as she walked down the plush, polished teak hallway down to Gary’s office and then to her horror, she discovered that Amanda was already seated there when she went in, along with one of the other partners of the company. Robyn felt herself begin to shake as she was told to sit opposite Nigel at his desk, with Amanda and the partner seated at the wall behind her, completely out of her view.

Thankfully, Gary was a straight shooter, which Robyn found easier to handle with, rather than the condescending approach Amanda had given her earlier. He explained that they were concerned about her explosive nature around the office, and that many people were beginning to pick up on. Robyn clenched her teeth together and gripped tightly onto the chair handles as Nigel told her that they could not tolerate that sort of behaviour to their junior staff, and that he expected her to re-evaluate her role within the office environment. Amanda had already pointed out to him that Robyn had not taken a holiday for over three years, and he felt he had let her down for not noticing that she had no time off. However, the responsibility for taking adequate annual leave was on her shoulders. He asked her why she hadn’t done so, and Robyn shrugged and muttered some explanation about being too busy and not being able to leave important decisions to other members of her staff.

Gary’s response was not what she expected. He told her that if she hadn’t trained her staff well enough to function adequately when she wasn’t there, then she had not been doing her job.

That comment stung more than knowing people had complained about her. She had given all she had to this company, and to be told her work wasn’t up to scratch was devastating. Robyn bit her lip and held back the tears that threatened to form in her eyes.

Gary told her that after a lot of deliberation with Amanda, they had decided that Robyn should take an extended leave of absence of a month, starting from the next day. He did not want to see her near the office for that time, and then to make matters worse, he asked Robyn to hand in her work Blackberry and her company laptop to him by the end of the day. Robyn could no longer hold back the tears at that point, and she blinked them away angrily as Amanda told her it was for her own good and they were only thinking of her wellbeing.

Gary softened his approach slightly, and told Robyn she was a valuable employee and the company had been doing her a disservice by not noticing how much strain she was under. Amanda had thankfully picked up on it, and he was sure after some time off, Robyn would be fighting fit and back to her old self.

Robyn felt like the whole office was scrutinising her as she walked back to her desk. She hadn’t been aware that tensions had been running high around her. Yes, she was a hard taskmaster, but she always thought she took time out to have a laugh with her co-workers, every now and then. It was part of her management training programme, to have intermittent friendly interactions with your team. She always set aside at least two hours a week for that, usually in a pub after work one evening. If her staff chose not to come, that was on them, surely?

She sat down quietly at her desk and stared at her computer screen, not focusing on anything. Her phone started to ring, but she didn’t bother to answer it. The rest of the day was very long, Robyn barely spoke a word to anyone and her staff tiptoed around her, unsure of what to say or do. It was apparent that none of them knew yet, and Robyn just couldn’t find the words to tell them. She would leave that to Amanda Jenkins, as Amanda Jenkins seemed to be in control of everything else. At the end of the day, Robyn picked up her handbag, leaving her computer and her Blackberry on her desk. She couldn’t face handing them directly back to Gary, so she slipped out the office and headed to Bond Street tube station.

Now the thought of staring at her empty apartment for the next month was untenable, but Robyn had no idea what she was going to do. She felt like she was being forced to look at her life, and she didn’t like what she saw. She had few friends outside work now, some had got married and had children already, something that she considered completely beyond her now. There was no one she could call on, or meet up for a coffee, everyone she knew was at work. Her parents lived in Harpenden in Hertfordshire, but they were away in Florida visiting her older sister and her family. Robyn used to be so close to her sister but hadn’t seen her for over three years. She barely knew her niece and nephew, and it wasn’t from lack of invites. Her sister, Lesley, was only two years her senior and they had been best friends. Lesley constantly phoned her, begging her to come over to Florida for a visit, but Robyn was always too busy.

And when Lesley and her family came back to the England for a couple of weeks’ holiday, Robyn found herself swamped with work again only managing to fit in a fleeting visit with them.

As Robyn stared out of her window, she came to a decision. There was no way she could stay alone here in London, she would take a trip somewhere. She could go to Florida and join her family, but although she might get away with explaining to her parents that she had chosen to have a month off, Robyn knew that Lesley would see right through her. How could she explain to her family that she had been forced to take a holiday because of the way she had been treating staff? Even saying it to herself made her shudder. When had she become that person?

Her car was parked in an adjoining street, as her parking permit did not allow her to park it outside her apartment. She rarely used her car, but now seemed a good time to go exploring with it. But where was she going to go? Maybe up north somewhere. She didn’t know that part of the country, she could just take off and it would be an adventure.

Who was she kidding? It would be a load of motorways and indecisions, and being indecisive was something Robyn couldn’t bear. She was a control freak; she had been told that many times by her friends over the years. She planned everything down to the smallest detail in every trip she made, even where to stop for coffee, or have a toilet break. Robyn had an itinerary for absolutely everything she was going to do, that was how she liked it. Having a month off, with no plans was pure hell for her, so she grabbed the road atlas she kept under the coffee table.

She flicked through the pages trying to see if any location jumped out at her or reminded her that she had once wanted to visit there. But nothing materialised and as she looked with no real enthusiasm, she found she was at a stale mate. There was nowhere that she could think of that she had any real desire to visit. Perhaps, Amanda Jenkins had been right, she needed to start finding things she liked to do outside the office. She gritted her teeth and pushed away the anger she felt just at the mere thought of that woman’s name.

After sitting for ten minutes staring into space, she began to feel a sense of hopelessness. Was it really that difficult just to pack up and take a break, why did it feel so alien to her? So, she made a decision, for the first time in Robyn’s life, she decided to take a plunge into unknown territory. She was going to open the Atlas at the map of the UK, close her eyes and mark the map with a pen. Wherever the mark was, was where she would go. She would not deviate; she would leave her trip to the hands of fate.

So, she got a pen from the drawer on the table, then opened the atlas at the said page, lying it flat in front of her. Closing her eyes, she sat quietly for a minute, before she reached over and scribbled lightly on the map. When she opened her eyes again, she looked at the map and found she was disappointed, although she hadn’t really known what she expected. She had marked the map in Dumfriesshire in southern Scotland. Not only had she never heard of it, but she had never been to Scotland.

All she could think was that the weather was awful, they drank Iron Brew, ate haggis and deep-fried everything. Hadn’t she read somewhere that the deep-fried Mars Bar was invented in Scotland?

Still she couldn’t change her mind now, Robyn didn’t work that way. She had made a decision, so she would see it through. She looked closer at the map to see whereabouts in Dumfriesshire she was headed. The name of the town was Dunscore and of course, Robyn had never heard of it, and by the looks of it on the map, it seemed like a pretty small place.

True to form, Robyn refused to question her decision, so she set about looking for somewhere to stay. She had a lot of money in her personal savings account as she very rarely spent money on herself. Perhaps it was time to splash out a bit and spoil herself, but the thought made her uncomfortable. Spending large amounts of money on herself for pure enjoyment was an alien concept to Robyn, and she was just beginning to realise how isolated she had become. Surely she deserved a bit of luxury? Perhaps Amanda Jenkins had been right. Robyn had lost touch of who she really was and had literally no idea what sort of place would make her happy. She stared at the Trip Adviser web page and scrolled down the list of accommodation.

One place jumped out at her, the Abbots Tower Hotel, about six or seven miles from Dunscore. It looked like an old castle or monastery from the pictures, standing alone in 45 acres of beautiful landscape on the banks of the River Nith. The price was reasonable, so Robyn once again did something out of character, she booked in for a two-week stay, starting from the day after tomorrow. Normally, when booking somewhere, Robyn would check out the rooms, menus, the type of cliental and the local facilities, before phoning the accommodation just to vet the staff. To book somewhere without even viewing the room was unheard of, and as uncomfortable as this was making her, she was determined to see it through.

Two weeks was a lot longer than her normal overnight Europe work trips, so Robyn pulled out her large suitcase from the back of one of her hall cupboards. She couldn’t remember the last time she had used this, probably when she had moved in. She started to pull her clothes out and then it dawned on her that she had no clothes suitable for the countryside. She was a city girl through and through, with a closet full of skirts, blouses, dresses and high heeled shoes. She only owned one pair of jeans, she would have to go shopping, more expense! Refusing to be put off by that thought, Robyn left her apartment an hour later and headed into Oxford Street to do some clothes shopping.

It was the first week of March and Robyn was sure that Scotland was much colder than London. In fact, in the last couple of days, London had been basking in warm spring sunshine with temperature up to 20 degrees. She pulled out her phone and checked the weather for Dumfries. It was 10 degrees cooler as she suspected, so jumpers and more jeans were on her list. Robyn was sure that she would never wear these clothes again after this holiday, but after a while, she found herself caught up in all the wonderful woolly sweaters and winter clothing. She staggered to the checkout with arms full of jumpers, cardigans, a woolly scarf with matching gloves and hat and some brightly coloured wellies.

Impressed at how painless buying clothes for herself actually was, she carried on her shop, this time opting for more expensive stores, where she picked up two pairs of Levi jeans and some warm fur lined hiking boots. She also splashed out on a bright orange and black anorak from a skiwear shop. Loaded with bags, Robyn grabbed a taxi back to her apartment, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She never understood the desire to ‘shop till you drop’ as her friends did, but there was something to be said about a bit of retail therapy.

Chapter Two

The next day, Robyn awoke with a thick head and a sickly stomach. She had drunk a bottle of wine on her own after her shopping spree, then ordered a take away curry, that now she was regretting.

After getting up and drinking two large coffees, she felt better and started to pack her case. Her mind turned to the office and to the latest contract she had been working on, but she dismissed the thought angrily, there was nothing she could do about it. Her case was packed by lunchtime, and all of a sudden, Robyn was at a loose end. She decided to pack up the car and head to her parent’s house in Harpenden for the night. She couldn’t bear to spend another night alone in her oppressive apartment, she knew where the spare key was hidden and her parents wouldn’t mind.

An hour and a half later, she was pulling into the drive of their six-bedroom house in the affluent West Common way. She let herself in, breathing in the familiar scent of her mother’s lavender pot pourri before turning off the alarms. She was glad her parents were away, she always loved being in this house on her own. Ever since she was a little girl, she had always felt a presence in this house that had made her feel safe.

That was something that she hadn’t thought about for a number of years. When she was a child, she saw and talked with spirits. She could sense their presence and see them as clearly as she could her parents. Her grandmother called them ‘The Fades’, she could see them also and helped explain them to Robyn. So, Robyn grew up knowing that Jack, the spirit of a beggar boy, lived with her in her childhood home and meant her no harm. His presence was always stronger when Robyn was alone in the house, and today, Robyn felt like she was greeting