Sorcery and Skullduggery in the Belt of Time

By Henry Anderson

The Belt of Time is clearly identified in this first book of the ‘Meaningful Challenge’ saga. This epic journey will take the reader through many halls, to many far-flung kingdoms, and destinations mapped on a new globe of enthralling proportions: places that may still exist or, in all probability, exist no longer.

The pithy language of the twenty-first century tells the story of the book’s hero, Storm. His journey takes him into magic and mystery, beginning from his birth into a Scottish family, through his difficult growing-up years. He struggles to overcome the emotional pain stemming from the early loss of his beloved grandmother. Being psychic herself and knowing Storm was fated for hardship but also greatness, his grandmother had provided love and kindness in his young life, while also initiating his psychic training.

Now going by the name Feinix, Storm begins his fated odyssey in the Belt of Time, meeting challenges in this world and beyond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781398475724

Henry Anderson

Dr. Henry Anderson practiced pediatrics in New York City for many years and now practices in Pennsylvania. Dr. Anderson has been answering parents' questions with patience, understanding, and a wry sense of humor for over twenty years.

Book preview

About the Author

This is the first novel that Henry Anderson has written. He has skilfully combined fact and fiction drawing from his experiences as a seafarer and studier of the metaphysical and all things mysterious.

Coming up the ‘hard way’, Henry was able to meet the many situations and challenges that he faced in his earlier career while working in remote sites globally.

Originally from the East of Scotland, the author now lives in mid Wales and presently works on and offshore as a catering consultant through his two companies.

Dedication

I dedicate my book to my late grandmother, Dinah Thornton, with love.

Copyright Information ©

Henry Anderson 2024

The right of Henry Anderson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 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 unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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

ISBN 9781398475694 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398475700 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781398475724 (ePub e-book)

ISBN 9781398475717 (Audiobook)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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Characters

Chapter One

The Beginning of a Lifetime

On a summer’s night in the year 1960, a child was born into a poor family. He had beautiful blue eyes, and his hair was so light it was almost silver. ‘He will be a heart breaker, that’s for sure,’ the child’s grandmother from the maternal side of the family had announced. Being psychic herself, she knew that the child had been born with the gift, but she decided not to draw attention to this as the child’s father was against such things. She had seen the mark between the child’s small toes on the right foot and known its significance. The grandmother decided that she would bide her time and develop the child as he grew up, keeping it as much a secret as she could until he could control all eventualities for himself.

At the very first moment of his birth, when the child drew breath, there was a change in the sky. Only two people were aware of it: Roudam, an old Scottish witch and the child’s spirit guide, and Dinah his maternal grandmother. This child, although he did not know it, was a special child. His father was a seventh son of a seventh son, and his grandmother on his mother’s side was well known to have been gifted with ‘the sight.’ This was all preordained, unbeknownst to the child at that time. Nevertheless, as he grew up, he realised that being special caused him quite a bit of trouble.

The child had what could only be described as a very difficult upbringing. He had to fight to survive every step of the way, and nothing came easy. No interest was shown in what he did, unlike the lives of the rest of the children he played with from different families. He noticed this, but just accepted it was the way his life would be. What the child was unaware of though, was that he had lived twice before, and that this time on the Earth Plane was going to be very different and quite difficult for him—as he started to find out for himself at a very early age.

He was named after his father’s brother, but the child hated this name and the situations surrounding that person so never liked to answer to it. As he grew up, he gained the nickname ‘Storm,’ because trouble seemed to seek him out wherever he was. There was no malice in him though and he was one of the most helpful and pleasant children. Unfortunately, there were others in his family that didn’t see him that way and never would.

When he was young his father was quite cruel to him, and many a time he had to accept a beating for nothing. Storm never felt wanted and more than tried to gain the love of his father, but no matter how well he did in any subject or venture, he was never given any words of encouragement during his childhood. The best that he got from his father was, ‘Oh you are just a stupid dreamer. You will never amount to anything. Get your head out of the clouds boy and live in the real world!’

This made Storm all the more adamant to prove them all wrong, especially his father. Nevertheless, his grandfather and grandmother from his mother’s side, thought the world of him and gave him the love he needed and continually looked for from his father but never got, as he was a man who would not show love, it just wasn’t in him.

In the morning before school and on holidays, Storm could always be found with his grandfather down at his stables. He had a special way with his grandfather’s horses, even the ones with bad tempers would give way for him, it seemed as if they knew there was something different within him. He was the same with dogs as well as horses; he loved them, and they loved him.

Storm’s father was a fisherman and often drunk and violent. When he came home from sea, Storm always had to stay at home for the sake of keeping peace. One morning during school holiday time when Storm was about eight years old, his father announced that he was taking him to the sea the next day to make a man of him.

Looking back from the present day, the question presents itself—Why would anyone want to make a child of eight into a man and remove his childhood from him? Out of cruelty is the answer! Done to keep Storm away from his grandparents and the stables, and to get at Storm’s mum, knowing full well how she would worry about him being out there on the sea. But to keep peace in the home he had to go, no argument!

On the day of his departure, Storm packed a small backpack and left the house in the early hours of the morning by taxi with his father. They arrived at the harbour at Point Law, climbed across three vessels and boarded the boat. It was still dark outside and there was a hard frost that morning, which made the deck all the more slippery as he struggled along it, clutching his backpack to get to the accommodation. All the fishermen laughed at him when he first got onboard.

Storm was greeted with, ‘Well Nipper, it won’t be long until you are seasick, and we will see how you cope with that!’ This was followed with snide laughs to show the kid’s father that there would be no preferential or favourable treatment for the child while he was onboard; and as young as he was, Storm understood this.

The crew were all sitting drinking and smoking in the forecastle that morning, bragging about this and that. It was not a nice atmosphere and the smoke in such a confined space made him cough and hurt his lungs. The place was very clean though, but you could still smell the stench of fish and diesel throughout the whole vessel as the fumes stuck to the large coconut matting inside each of the exit passageways. Storm was frightened but wouldn’t show it for fear of embarrassing his father, or even worse, being smacked by him in front of these strangers.

He didn’t expect the great rumble that caused his next bout of fear, but the mate, who was a kind guy, told him not to worry. ‘It’s only Joe the Chief Engineer starting the main engines.’

The next thing Storm heard was, ‘Let go fore and aft,’ then they were away out of the harbour. The ship rolled and danced as she passed the Fairway Buoy and headed out into the North Sea. Storm was afraid and within two hours was very seasick, as the swell in the North Sea was very bad at that time of year. He had to listen to the fishermen sniggering at his deficiency and his father shouting at him to ‘Get up and do something boy, you will feel better if you do!’

After two days of seasickness and listening to his father laughing to himself at his son’s plight, Storm decided to struggle out of bed on shaking legs. The boat was then in Icelandic waters and Storm had never seen waves so high in his lifetime. His father shouted to him out of the bridge exit door to ‘Go help the cook.’

The cook seemed to be a miserable old guy with little or no patience, and when Storm arrived in the galley, he shouted, ‘Oh it’s you they’ve lumbered me with is it? Well here, peel these potatoes and vegetables my boy, and shut up and keep well out of my way, I’ve a lot to do down here!’

Storm looked around, found a bench and tools to work with and set himself to the task with great determination; even though he was feeling weak from hunger as he hadn’t eaten anything for two days.

After peeling what seemed like tons of potatoes and preparing vegetables, Storm was starting to gain confidence. He shocked the cook by starting the broth himself and stoving the vegetables, as his grandmother had let him cook with her in the holidays. When the cook looked at what Storm had accomplished, he softened his tone towards him, saying, ‘Well maybe we will make something of you yet!’

At 12 o’clock the crew came in for their food. The cook served the soup first and the crew said it was good. ‘Don’t thank me,’ said the cook, ‘It was the young one who made it!’

Storm’s father replied, ‘Oh yes, he can cook, but it’s all he’s good for!’

‘Time will tell, Skipper, I believe you have a good one here, and fit for the job and all,’ said the cook in a tone that was making a point that the Skipper was out of line. The crew picked up on the fact that the Skipper resented his son, but they said nothing, although a lot of them softened toward Storm during the trip.

After twenty-one days, Storm had learned how to make bread, stews, pies and more from the cook, and a friendship was accomplished between them by the end of the trip. Back on dry land again with his first wage of £14.00 in his pocket—which was a fortune to him—he would buy his new school clothes with this money and if there was enough left, a small present for his mother, grandmother, and grandfather.

Storm always felt different. He didn’t have to try as hard as many others at whatever he attempted. It just came as second nature to him, but despite that he always felt inside that he had to try hard to please. He often used to wish he was grown up and could just leave so he wouldn’t be a problem to anyone anymore. If only he knew then how his future would be, or the loneliness and homesickness he would experience in the years to come, when his grandmother and grandfather were no more…

The school holidays were over now, and he had to go back to being bullied at school. One of the things he disliked about being different was that he was frequently picked on and scorned by others who were less than adequate as people, in his opinion. As usual his father was less than understanding in this area, believing that the child should be hard and able to defend himself against others, particularly those who were much stronger than him.

Along the way, that’s exactly what had happened. Storm got used to the provocation and fought back with a vengeance. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before he was in trouble with the school due to his rebellion against the school bullies. His teachers, or the school board always seemed to take the other party’s side.

Storm’s school years were not the happiest at home either. His father was very strict and when he was at home from sea. Storm was only allowed out to play when his father decided that he had done enough homework or jobs.

What didn’t help matters was that Storm’s grandmother from his father’s side used to sell second-hand clothes in the Castlegate Market in Aberdeen every Friday. She used to take Storm with her on various Saturday mornings to carry heavy items for her that she had bought to sell on in the Market. Storm didn’t blame his grandmother for his castigation and misfortune in life, as in his heart he knew that the woman was trying to make a living and doing her best to survive. Of course, now, recycling is very acceptable, but unfortunately that was the 1970s!

As the years went by Storm learned to cope and found other things in school that he took delight in. Cooking was one of the subjects he enjoyed, and one day in class he was confident enough to verse his opinion on the recipe and method that was set out on the board for that day. The Home Economics teacher however, dismissed them out of hand, as he ‘wasn’t qualified to say such things in her class,’ she was the teacher and he ‘should know his place.’ Taking him down a peg or two in front of the class was her way and he understood it. She then instructed the class to go ahead with exactly what was written on the board. Storm realised he should say no more on the matter, but he wasn’t going to be marked down for her mistakes, so he went ahead and worked the recipe his own way.

The class always knew the week beforehand what they would be cooking and what ingredients to bring. When Storm followed the recipe at home, he found it didn’t work. Unable to ask anyone, Storm went to the library to look through cookbook after cookbook, until he found the answer to the faulty recipe and took notes. There was no point in mentioning that to the teacher as she wouldn’t listen. On completion of the cooking in class that day, all the others, with the exception of Storm’s cooking, failed in various ways. At the end of the lesson, the teacher blamed everyone for getting it wrong and praised Storm for obviously being the only one who used her instructions to get it right.

‘Yes Miss, I read the cookbook,’ said Storm and he left the classroom. He knew she would be angry about it, but at the time that was his way of coping and getting some of his own back.

Chapter Two

It was Saturday and the start of the school holidays. That morning his grandfather had told Storm that he and his grandmother were going to buy some horses up in Ullapool and asked him if he would like to go with them and to lend a hand. Storm was delighted, it was the first time he had been so far into the highlands, and he instantly fell in love with the place. It was as if he had suddenly arrived where he had been many times before. He loved the smell of the heather with the wind blowing through it, and the beautiful brown waterfalls flowing down the hillsides. He felt as if the place was saying, ‘Welcome home, Storm.’ He thought, what more do you need in life?

When they were driving down the mountainside, it was just coming down dark. His first view was of the beauty of the sea and the smell of salt off Loch Broom, with all the ships sitting in the little harbour and the wee white painted houses all set into the mountainside. The feeling that he had then was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Storm knew at that moment that this would be his special place for the rest of his life. It was beauty like he had never seen before, and it gave him peace in his heart.

They drove through the narrow streets, and eventually entered the camp site where they pulled close to the water at the far end. His grandfather asked him if he could lend a hand positioning the caravan and when that was finished, his grandmother asked Storm to go and get water for her. She then started cooking the evening meal. After the meal, they settled down in front of the fire and Storm’s grandmother talked about the folklore of this beautiful place and the surrounding area.

Storm’s grandmother was known to be very psychic, and she could see signs of the gift starting to develop within Storm. She noticed how his eyes would change during different weather patterns when atmospheres were heightened and charged; and how he knew about things without being told. She had known since his birth that it was her duty to guide him, and this had lain heavily on her mind.

As she looked at him that evening, she knew it was time and could be put off no longer. Taking a deep breath, she then tapped her husband on the shoulder. ‘Willy, it’s time the boy was told a few things for his own good.’

His grandfather sighed, ‘I knew you would say something one day, so you’d better just tell him and get it over with Dinah.’

His grandmother paused for a moment then spoke. ‘Storm, do you ever become frightened for no apparent reason and feel cold when it’s not cold?’

‘Yes, I do Gran, why?’ His attention was now fixed on his grandmother, eager to see where the conversation was going.

‘Well, let me explain what is happening to you. There are people who want to talk to you who are no longer in this world. These spirits feel that they can talk to you, Storm, and that’s a very special gift you have been granted. I must tell you though, it’s very important that you are careful because this could be harmful for you. To get things right and so that you understand, we will have to take these lessons slowly. Not a word of this to your father Storm, as you know how he will take it!’

Storm was stunned by what he was hearing but saw the sense in keeping it from his father. ‘All I would get is castigation Gran.’

His grandparents nodded. They knew his father always looked on the black side of everything and rarely had a good word for anyone but himself. ‘Storm, we will begin by what you should not do and where you should not go.’

His grandmother then took a dark blue cloth off her crystal ball and looked into it for a full minute before speaking. ‘Now listen carefully. You have a very strange path ahead of you boy, which you will not find to be an easy one, so please tread with great care. As you get stronger, it will be others who will have to watch out for you! But hear me! The lesson you must learn here, no matter what others do to you, is to always think and do good things, for what you send out, good or bad, will come back to you threefold! Do you understand my meaning, Storm?’

‘Yes, I do Gran.’

His grandmother continued to talk. ‘Firstly, you must never go on your own near the standing stones that are on the top of the mountain here. You do not have the power to deal with such a place yet!’

Storm laughed, only to gain a hard slap on the head and his grandmother asking him once again if he understood her. ‘I do Gran, I’m sorry. I won’t go there at all!’

Storm’s grandmother felt bad for striking the child, but she knew his curiosity for all things mysterious and feared for his safety if he was left to his own devices.

‘Secondly, if you want to commune with the other side, you will only do so when I am with you, is this understood?’

‘Yes Gran.’

‘Well then, that’s enough for now. Go to bed now Storm, you have an early start with your grandfather tomorrow.’

But, Storm, always curious, couldn’t resist asking his grandmother why he couldn’t go to the standing stones.

His grandfather knew Storm wouldn’t leave things there. ‘You had better tell him Dinah or we will be up all night until he gets an answer out of you,’ he said with a chuckle.

His grandmother gave a heavy sigh. ’All right, sit down Storm and I will tell you.

‘There is an old legend about the standing stones. They are called the Witch’s Belt of Time.’

‘What does that mean, Gran?’ asked Storm drawing nearer.

‘It is said in the Gallic, that those who dwell there wait for a ’Tagh Fear.’ But no one within this area will go near the stones due to the legend, as everyone fears the place. It is also said that when the time comes, the Tagh Fear will walk into the stone circle and a purple light will shine from the mountain and the Tagh Fear will pass through the Belt of Time. What will be seen there, no one knows! What I can tell you Storm, is that it is said to be haunted by ghosts up there. Young courting couples that had gone there during the hours of darkness have been frightened by spectral appearances.

’There is a story, Storm, about a young woman who went up to the stone circle long ago after she lost her husband to the sea. She was a figure of beauty with long auburn hair and emerald green eyes. The woman was rumoured to be a witch and everyone in the area thought she was, except for her husband who refused to believe such of her, as he loved her and knew her kindness and help to others. The story goes that she was so bereft over the loss of her husband, that she went up there alone one cold winter’s night and prayed to the stones. She was never seen again. Except for her shoes found by the villagers outside the ring of stones!

‘So, I say in caution, Storm, please don’t tamper with what you don’t know.’

‘No Gran I understand, but what is a Tagh Fear?’

His grandmother knew the Gallic tongue but had not passed it on and never used it these days. ‘It means a special one or one that has been chosen, Storm. Now get ready for bed.’

‘Thank you, Gran, I will remember what you have told me, goodnight.’ But being a curious boy, he had no intention of heeding the warning and felt within himself that he needed to go up there to the standing stones and see for himself.

Next morning came and the sun shining through the curtains woke Storm. His grandfather was shouting, ‘Come on boy, get up we have a long day ahead!’

Storm wanted to go back to sleep but the thought of the day ahead and the new horses soon had him up and ready to go out with his grandfather. They went and bought fourteen horses that day and his grandfather was very happy, as he had bought the horses for a song. It was early evening when they got back, and his grandmother was standing waiting for them with their evening meal ready. After supper, Storm asked if he should go and tether the young horses, as two of them were quite boisterous.

‘Okay, son that will be fine,’ said his grandfather. So, away Storm went and put a halter round the first horse’s head and tethered it to a post. When he tried to do the same with the second one, it took a kick at him and tried to bite him.

‘Okay,’ said Storm with a grunt. ‘We will try it your way, shall we?’ He went over to the lorry and got a length of rope which he looped and threw around the horse’s neck. It was a big mistake on his part, but he wasn’t thinking straight due to tiredness and hunger, and the horse had made him very angry. It reared, kicked, and pulled Storm all over the ground.

By the time he had let go, he had bad burns and raw welts on his hands as he hadn’t worn gloves. Due to this he was now swearing profusely at the beast, and by the time he had calmed down, there were no names left to call the horse. Storm took a breath and tried again; he was in bloody agony but determined not to give up. The horse was a wise one and had seen him coming.

Storm could see the whites of the horse’s eyes and knew it was quite spooked. To make things worse, this horse had a marles eye, one was blue, the other one was brown, and this indicated a bad nature. He caught the rope again, but the horse slipped the noose and bolted up the mountain before he could do anything else with it. ‘Shit! That’s all I bloody need,’ said Storm.

He went and told his grandfather and expected a telling off, but his grandfather could see the mess of Storm’s hands so didn’t get on to the boy. Instead, he told him to go and get his Granny to bathe his hands with witch hazel and lavender. His grandmother was skilled in the art of herbal healing and the salve that she smoothed into his cut hands soon eased the soreness. After having his hands treated, Storm went outside to find the old man inspecting the rest of the horses.

‘You have made a good job of getting these beasts sorted out for the night Storm. Was there anything that spooked the last one?’

‘Not as far as I know Granddad. There was certainly a bit of wind blowing up from the loch and the light was changing fast, but there was nothing unusual,’ said Storm.

‘Well, there isn’t a breath in the air now, but don’t worry, the horse may come back of its own accord,’ said his grandfather.

‘If it doesn’t, I’ll go up the mountain and get it,’ said Storm.

‘You will not! Do you want your Granny to fall out with me Storm? Didn’t you listen to what she said last night?’

‘Yes, I did, Granddad, but that horse cost you money and I’ve lost it!’ said Storm.

‘Don’t worry too much about that boy, I could lose four of them and still make a profit!’

Storm went to bed that night quite unhappy. He would never willingly let his grandfather down, so he decided he would wait until they were sleeping and then go up the mountain and get this cantankerous beast back before they were awake. No one would be any the wiser.

So, at 3 am Storm set out on the mountain track. It was still dark, and all was quiet, but he could see quite well once his eyes adjusted. It took just under an hour to reach the summit and he was sweating and in a bad mood. He knew time would be against him to get back down before he was found to be missing. When he got to the top he walked towards the stones, and there was the horse whinnying to him.

Approaching slowly, he spoke in a quiet voice… ‘Come on my boy, I’ll not hurt you,’ but as he got closer the horse started walking away towards the stones. ‘This is all I bloody need,’ he said to himself.

The horse carried on into the centre of the standing stones and Storm called him again, but to no avail: It was as if the horse was waiting for him to come in, so he knew he had no choice but to follow it into the circle of stones. This is where Storm’s adventure really begins. If there is a beginning, or an end, then it started here in the stone circle. Where it would end… he didn’t know in this time.

Chapter Three

It was starting to get light now and Storm could see quite clearly that the horse was pawing the ground with its hoof. Don’t tell me this thing has gone lame on me, thought Storm, I’ll never get back down the hill. He lifted up the horse’s hoof and there on the ground was a golden heart glinting in the muddy ground. Storm wondered how long it had been there, but he could see that it was old, and he picked it up and put it in his pocket without thinking. He could see that there was nothing out of order with the horse and it was now nuzzling up to him. ‘A fine time you pick to be my friend. I’ll be skinned alive if I don’t get you down off the mountain before they wake up,’ said Storm. ‘If you are this friendly, let’s see if you will let me ride you.’

Storm was fully ready to be thrown as he knew the nature of this beast, or so he thought, but when he got on its back the horse just snickered, turned its head, and looked at him. Amazed by this change of personality, Storm rubbed the horse’s withers, preparing to start the journey back down the mountain, but this was not to be. The horse took off with him and cantered round the stones three times. Storm felt a sudden change in the air. It seemed to get much cooler suddenly and the sky was turning green streaked with red. Dawn was breaking now and it would be fully light soon.

Every hair on Storm’s head was standing on end and his body was tingling all over. It was then that the horse began to become unsettled and bolted with Storm on its back. It raced down the hill and Storm had to hold on to its mane to stay on.

In what seemed like no time at all, they were safe back in camp. Storm fed and watered the horse and brushed the dust from its coat. He then left it wandering about on its own as he instinctively knew it would wander no farther. He now had to sneak back into bed as if he had never been out of it. If he got caught, his grandparents would be very cross with him for going up the mountain. He would not be allowed to forget his misdemeanour, of that he could be sure.

Just twenty minutes later Storm’s grandfather shouted, ‘Come on laziness, get up son, and get water so your granny can make the breakfast.’

Storm pretended that he was still asleep until his grandfather shouted again. Dragging himself out of bed he went to find his grandfather. ‘I’m sorry Granddad, it’s just that my hands are still a little tender and I’m tired after all the carry on with that stupid horse yesterday.’

‘Never mind,’ replied his grandfather who was feeling sorry for him. ‘I’ll get the water myself,’ which Storm had hoped he would do. When his grandfather came back in, Storm was sitting eating the bacon his grandmother had cooked for him.

His grandfather gave him a look, saying, ‘You won’t believe this! That horse that bolted from you yesterday was waiting right outside the door this morning.’

‘You said it might come back on its own Granddad,’ said Storm.

‘Hmm, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you had something to do with it Storm, eh?’ His grandfather had also noticed that the horse had been fed and brushed. He knew that it was down to Storm as he knew his nature but decided not to take the matter any further.

Feeling guilty, Storm replied rather too quickly. ‘No, not me Granddad. Look at my hands, do you think I would even bother after what you said last night?’

‘Well maybe, but if I find out any different, you’ll be for it,’ said his grandfather.

It was now time to load the horses onto the lorry and head for home again, before travelling on to the horse fair. The horse that bolted the day before was the last to be loaded. It wouldn’t follow the other horses onto the lorry and made a show of waiting specifically for Storm to come. His grandfather scratched his chin. ‘It’s a bit familiar with you Storm, can you explain why? I’ve had horses all my life, and once they take a bolt with you, they take plenty of time to gain your confidence again.’

Storm was momentarily speechless, but although his granddad suspected that he had gone for the horse, he had no absolute proof. So he let it go at that and Storm was thankful.

Later, after a quick stop off at home, they drove straight for Appleby Fair in Westmorland. It was a long drive down to the north of England and by the time they got there and sorted out the animals and the caravan, they were all tired. Storm went off to bed and his grandfather went for a few beers to see if he could sell any of the horses before the fair started, so that he would have the money to buy young ones to take home.

Next day, Storm’s granny kicked his backside out of bed, saying, ‘Come on, get out of here and go and help your granddad with the beasts. I have to do readings for the people who come through the fair today. You know how they all come to me for fortune reading.’

This was another way that Storm’s grandparents had of earning money. At first, he thought that his granny would just be telling them rubbish to get a day’s wages, but he realised differently when he asked her if she had had an easy day.

She just about bit his head off, which was very unlike her. ‘I have just refused to tell a woman’s fortune, and it’s money we could well use, Storm!’ His grandmother was a very caring woman at heart and had always told Storm as he was growing up, to never to tell a lie. It was at this stage that Storm knew she was telling the truth during her readings to people at the fair. One of her expressions used to be, ‘You can always tie a thief’s hands son, but you cannot tie a liar’s tongue.’ It was very much later in life that Storm came to understand this.

Storm’s grandfather sold all the horses that day, apart from the one that bolted. All the dealers said it had a mean streak in it and wouldn’t buy it. His grandfather couldn’t find it within himself to be cruel to any animal and was seriously thinking of letting the horse go on the moors the next morning, and it calmed his conscience as he knew at least it could feed itself there. That night when his grandparents counted their takings his grandfather shouted for Storm and handed him three twenty-pound notes. ‘Is that enough for you?’ he asked.

‘Take it back, Granda, I did the work because I wanted to and not for profit,’ said Storm, but his grandfather insisted he put it in his pocket.

‘Okay then,’ said Storm, ‘I want to buy the horse that no one will buy.’

‘Haven’t you been listening to the dealers Storm? They won’t look at it! Doesn’t that tell you something?’

‘Yes Granda, they are afraid of it, but I’m not and I will be able to look after it if you keep it in your stables for me. I heard you offering the horse to Lee for thirty-five pounds, and he refused it. I will give you the sixty pounds that you have offered to give me, and you won’t have to lift a finger to look after it as I’ll see to that!’

Storm’s grandfather considered this proposition for a moment before asking Storm’s grandmother what she thought. ‘You know fine, Willy,’ she said, ‘I never have anything to do with men’s deals, so you decide for yourself!’

‘I will give you one offer, take it, or leave it. Since you are my grandson, I will take only thirty-five pounds from you for it, but on your own head be it.’

‘Deal!’ said Storm. ‘It’s mine, bought and paid for!’ They both shook hands and both Storm and his grandfather were proud of the outcome.

The next day the fair was in full swing. Storm took some tack out of the lorry and saddled up the horse, he then mounted and rode through the fair with his hair flowing in the wind and his eyes shining blue like the sea. Everyone there that had refused to buy the horse looked on in envy as it rode past them in fine style, looking very proud of itself.

Storm found his granddad in the beer tent later, having a fly pint with the rest of the horse dealers. His granddad was happy to tell him that he had bought a few more horses to take back up north.

‘Do you want me to take them back to the horse truck now and sort their feed out, Granda?’ asked Storm.

‘No thanks son, I’ll take them up the road when I finish here.’

One of the horse dealers drinking with his granddad turned to Storm… ‘You’ll rue the day you bought that horse lad. I don’t think he can be trusted!’

Before Storm could reply, his grandfather said ‘I’ve already told him that Joe, but he won’t listen to me!’

‘Stop moaning and give me a beer, would you?’ said Storm with a cheeky grin.

His grandfather just about choked. ‘Do you want your granny to kill me boy?’

The dealers laughed. ‘Give him a beer, Willy. He’s trying to show that he is a grown-up among us men, so let the boy have one.’ They were only goading Storm’s grandfather to see what reaction they would get for laughs amongst themselves. ‘He’s a teenager, so stop being an old fool, Willy. Let the boy have a beer, he’ll only have one behind your back if you don’t,’ the dealers urged.

‘Okay, I will let him have one, then I want you to go back, Storm.’

‘Okay Granddad, that’s really good of you,’ said Storm smiling to himself.

That night a dance was being held and Storm put on his best clothes. He took the gold heart that he’d found on the mountain and washed its filigree work clean of the caked mud. It was an unusual piece, small but beautiful, and when Storm held it, he felt a closeness of some sort and a warmth towards it. He added it to the gold chain he had around his neck and set off for the dance. On the way, he met a few of the dealers’ boys, and as per normal they found a bar that would serve them drink.

That’s a good start to the evening, thought Storm. ‘I wonder what our fathers would do if they found us sitting here?’ No sooner was it out of John’s mouth, that their fathers, along with Storm’s grandfather, appeared in the bar! All the lads and Storm had beer in their hands and whisky chasers lined up which was not a good practice for underage teenagers, or to be caught doing it.

‘We’re for it now boys,’ said Storm, ‘We’re about to get the tanning of our lives!’

Luckily for them, John’s father, Storm’s uncle David, took the sting out of the situation when he said, ‘Leave them alone, they’re only young boys and they will learn by their mistakes as we all did.’

Next minute, Storm’s grandfather pulled him to one side. Storm thought that he was about to get it, but his granddad just asked if he had enough money with him to pay his way. ‘I’ll not have you shaming me by you having to ask others for money to see you through Storm!’

It was unusual for Storm’s grandfather to allow such an event but he seemed to be in a reasonable mood for the time being. Surprised and relieved, Storm told him that he had more than enough.

‘Well, here is another twenty pounds anyway, and another thing, Storm, if you are drunk tonight, sleep in the lorry. If your granny catches you drunk, my life won’t be worth living!’

Storm agreed quickly and gratefully. Feeling more confident now, he went back to join the other lads.

‘Let’s get to the dance and have some fun there,’ he said. From the minute they walked in the door, all the young girls had their eye on Storm, but he would have none of them. He knew how difficult relationships could be as he had seen enough of their bad side in the past and had different ideas for his future that didn’t include any of his admirers. They were all talking about the horse he had bought, that no one else would touch, so he was like a folk hero there that night. He listened to the band currently playing and felt the urge to join them, as he loved music and was rated a very good musician.

After a few beers, he managed to convince the band to let him up for a tune. When he stepped up onto the stage, the lights caught the golden heart that hung around his neck, and it felt hot for a second. Then, a feeling of love flooded through him as he picked up the guitar.

When he began to play, what came out was a song he had never heard before, and he loved every note of it. Where the tune came from, he didn’t know. It was as if his fingers were doing it by themselves, and every note that he played filled him with peace and happiness. The next thing he knew was that the song he sang had ended and everyone was clapping.

The band asked him where he learned such a tune. It was beautiful they said.

‘Oh, I just made it up as I went along out of a few riffs and scales,’ said Storm feeling strange. He knew that he had never heard the tune before and it troubled him slightly, but for the time being he carried on drinking, wondering to himself why such a feeling had come over him, as nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

It was now the end of the night and as usual at this time, a fight would always get up between the visitors and the locals. Unintentionally, Storm was in the guts of it. One of the locals had got jealous because his girlfriend had made a remark that the guy on the guitar was good. Outside, things got out of hand. This girl’s boyfriend was a fair bit bigger than Storm, which gave him the idea that Storm would be easy pickings. He flung abuse at Storm while all of his friends laughed.

Not wanting any trouble brought back to the camp, Storm walked on, only to be stopped by a bunch of them. For goodness’ sake, here we go again, Storm thought to himself.

Storm knew there would be no talking to these people. They were full of drink and fired-up, looking for trouble. So, he head-butted the big one who seemed to have plenty to say and broke his nose. The guy staggered back against the wall and Storm turned quickly and saw a sly bastard about to sneak up on him.

Storm stuck his fist in this one’s eye and closed it instantly. There was a ring of locals round him now and they were baiting him like he was a badger. Storm was sure he was going to get a right doing and he waited. It was always the bloody same and he didn’t look for this, nor their girlfriends’ attention either.

At that moment, Storm’s mates got there and the odds were now changed in their favour. At the end of the stramash, they all were covered in blood and their clothes were in ruins. One of the lads was shouting about his new riding boots being fucking ruined but thinking of how much worse the situation could have been, Storm put things into perspective for him.

‘Thank your lucky stars we got out of this with our lives, you can always buy new boots you idiot!’ Before he went back to the camp, Storm washed the blood off himself in the river and tidied himself as best he could. He went straight to the lorry and then to his bed as quietly as he could so not to wake his grandparents.

That night he had a very strange dream. He was in a different time but still wearing his normal clothes. The people around him were very different and seemed to be of Highland descent by the lilt of their voices. Storm couldn’t make out what year it might have been, but it was definitely in the past.

In the dream, Storm was on his horse. The people around him were telling him that they knew he would come. They had been waiting for him they said, and it was so good to see him. Storm got off his horse and a strange looking man took his hand saying, ‘Come with me, there are people here who want to meet you.’

Storm followed the man who led him to a room where there was an open log fire burning at one end of the room. The smell from the burning logs was pleasant as it filled the air, mixing with the sweet smell of fresh heather and herbs. There were Deerhound dogs lying sleeping in front of the fire.

‘Sit down,’ said the man, ‘you are welcome here.’

‘Where am I?’ asked Storm.

‘All in good time. This is your first time here my friend. I must tell you though that it will not be your last.’

‘Am I dead?’ asked Storm.

The man laughed. ‘No, you are in the Belt of Time, but don’t tell your grandmother I have told you so!’

‘Who are you?’ asked Storm.

‘I am Kathargus, and a wizard. I have things to tell you Storm. You have power in you, although very raw at present. This power will have to be developed before it is of any real use to you and you will have to be taught how to use it.’

‘I am an ordinary kid and don’t have any power,’ said Storm.

‘Oh, but you do my lad. You are the last of a Scottish wizard’s royal line,’ said Kathargus.

‘Next, you’ll be telling me my father is the Pied Piper,’ said Storm.

‘Do not jest lad! In your veins runs the blood of a powerful dynasty, so enough of your nonsense Storm, for I cannot allow you to ignore your birth right.’

‘It was I who made the horse go up the mountain so you would follow Storm. The horse will now only be faithful to you, for no other will ever be able to ride it, unless you will it. The golden heart that you have around your neck, belongs to the one you were once part of. She loved you deeply and will do so again, in time… I will explain more of this to you later, but for now you must never take it off your neck, as that is her link to you. Take heed of what I have told you Storm and we will meet again at a later point in your life!’

‘When will that be?’ asked Storm.

The wizard smiled and as he faded Storm heard, ‘All in good time.’

Storm woke up startled and sweating with a bad hangover which he wasn’t proud of. He thought about the dream, but just put it down to the effects of the drink. Later that day they packed up and got ready for the long drive back up north to Scotland. Storm’s grandmother knew he had been fighting when she saw the mess of his clothes. She also knew that there would be more trouble in his life and was worried for his future.

Chapter Four

The rest of that year wasn’t a pleasant experience. Storm’s grandmother had suddenly become ill. It was as if everyone in the family were speaking in whispers around him and he knew there was something far wrong but didn’t know what. Finally, his father pulled him aside. ‘I have very bad news for you son. Your grandmother is going to die. She has been diagnosed with cancer and there isn’t any more the doctors can do for her.’

This information was like a bomb going off in Storm’s head. He managed to hold back the tears and asked his father how long she had left to live, as he knew how serious the disease was.

‘They don’t know son. They say it could be a matter of weeks,’ his father replied.

Storm wouldn’t go to school from that moment on and he spent all his time by his grandmother’s side as he loved her dearly. Every day he saw her lose more and more weight and the will to live. The pain relief from the doctor wasn’t keeping her pain at bay at all, and Storm felt helpless as he watched her lose the struggle. He had no idea how he would cope without her as she had always been there for him. She was young, only fifty-six! Storm lay in his bed at night and prayed to God for help for his grandmother.

What he didn’t know was, that when it’s your time, you have to go regardless. The heart around his neck seemed to give him strength to cope, but it was the hardest experience he had ever faced as a child. At that point, it was all Storm was, and for the first time within himself he conceded to this. Little did he know that in another place there was a woman pouring out love to him. The woman was within the Belt of Time and her name was Slaine.

Slaine had asked Kathargus if she could leave the Belt and go to Storm, but Kathargus would not grant her request. ‘Sad though it is Slaine, you cannot meet with him yet. Storm will have to cope with this on his own. We will send protection through Roudam who will see him through this until the time is right for his next visit.’ This wasn’t what Slaine wanted to hear but she could only agree to wait as she trusted Kathargus’s wisdom absolutely.

When his grandmother passed away, Storm was devastated. His grandmother was buried from her own home after a wake that lasted three nights. He hadn’t seen her since she had died so after the priest had said the mass, Storm’s father took him into the next room where his grandmother lay in her coffin.

When his father lifted the silk cloth that was covering his grandmother’s face, Storm was horrified. He had never seen a dead person before, and it disrupted him badly for years to come. Whether his father knew it would affect Storm that way, he didn’t know, but he never forgot the experience.

Storm already had problems with his father on a daily basis, and now he had even more due to his grandmother’s death to cope with. There was no one he could talk to about it, it just wasn’t done that way in his family. It’s a wonder that Storm ever made it through the remainder of his youth with all that was running through his mind. He was forever afraid of the dark and suffered from nightmares that stayed with him for the remainder of his life.

Spirits contacted him often, even in daytime, but he knew no one would believe him if he told them. He also knew to talk about it would end in a beating, or at the very least provoke mocking statements thrown at him from his father.

Once the funeral was passed, Storm’s grandfather took to drinking heavily. This was the first break in the chain. Then after a few years, his grandfather couldn’t bear to live in his house anymore. Storm would visit him every other day and find him drunk lying out cold on the floor and he would hold his grandfather in his arms with tears running down his face. Storm would beg him to pull himself together, as he didn’t want to lose him too.

No matter how late it was, he would wait until his grandfather came round to see that he was alright, and made sure that he ate something. His grandfather would tell him that he saw his grandmother coming for him, which made Storm feel worse. This kid could hardly cope as it was, but his grandfather was so full of grief, he couldn’t see his grandson’s needs.

Storm pleaded with his mother to do something, but she didn’t want to offend Storm’s father. Eventually things came to a head, and she finally went and had a word with her father to try and get him to pull himself together. ‘It’s affecting the grandchildren and Storm is hurting so much watching you destroy yourself day by day. Try and pull yourself together man! The kid’s schooling is going to hell. He is either down at the stable looking after the horses or tending to you, and it’s taking its toll on the kid!’

‘It’s all right for you lady,’ said his grandfather. ‘That was my partner in life since I was a young boy. You still have your family, but I have no one and face nothing but pain every day.’

Storm’s mother felt for him but had to speak her mind. ‘Well father, if you don’t at least try then I won’t come here anymore and I will stop Storm from coming to see you, as it’s making the kid ill!’

‘Oh, don’t do that, I look forward to him coming.’

‘Well sober up then!’ she told him and then walked out.

Storm’s grandfather tried to put matters right after that, but he found he couldn’t settle in the house. He announced to the family that he was selling up and that he had an offer of a job away and was taking it. He told them he would see them during his leave and write as often as he could.

Storm was bitterly disappointed. He tried hard to keep control of himself, but his anger got the better of him when he saw his grandfather packing up his things. ‘You don’t even spare a thought as to what I will do without you Granda,’ Storm was close to tears and his grandfather could see that, but he had to be firm and put a plan in place.

‘You will go to school and study Storm, and I will do my best to set up a job for you when you leave the school next year. It’s only a year so try to understand Storm! You know that if I try to take you away from your parents now, there would be trouble. You are underage and your father would see it through to the last, you know he has no liking for me!’

Storm pleaded with him not to go to no avail.

‘I have to go son, there is nothing here for me and your father doesn’t want me around.’

Storm was very angry now. ‘Well, you had better sell the bloody horse as well Granda as I will have nowhere to keep him, and don’t think that my father will help, he couldn’t give a damn about my horse!’

‘I will get you a good price for the horse Storm.’

‘Granda, he won’t let another person near him, so I doubt that very much. Let him go free, I don’t want any money for him. Promise me you will drive him to Ullapool and give him his freedom. The beast has been faithful to me, and I don’t want another to have him.’

His grandfather nodded his agreement. ‘Yes, I will do as you ask boy, and you know I will keep my promise. I will phone you once a week, to see how you are doing. Now try to cope. I know it’s hard but remember, no matter what, I love you.’

Storm watched his grandfather drive away with the horse in its horse box. He had sold his horses and stables and he was gone, and it all was gone. Storm would miss him very much. A year was a long time he knew, but it was now time for him to go back to school.

It was his last year and he had to make up his mind what he wanted to do with his life. He had spoken to Guidance Teachers and found them of very little help as they apparently thought he was incapable of achieving a good position in life. Storm knew otherwise though.

Toward the end of the school year Storm phoned his grandfather at his work and asked if there were any jobs going for Commis Chefs. His grandfather had a few contacts there by that time and said he would make enquiries and call Storm back the next day with an answer. Storm had decided that he would train as a chef and thought it would be an easy process as he found it easy to cook. What a shock he was in for when he walked into the trade after leaving school!

At 3 pm as promised, his grandfather called Storm, who had made sure their conversation would be private. ‘Good news, Storm. I can get you a position up here as a trainee chef.’

‘I’ll take it,’ said Storm without hesitation. ‘When do I start?’

‘On Monday, but you will have to be here by Sunday at the latest,’ said his grandfather.

It was already Thursday. ‘Tell them I will be there on Saturday, Granda.’ His grandfather could see that Storm was determined to leave home and would get