Flower of Scotland Read Online Free PDF

face melting and running like wax from a candle.
    He groaned, a loud moan of pain, and Jamie moved to step forward. I only just stopped him in time - it would have been death for us all had he crossed the circle then.
    Both Robert and the source of the glow had disappeared inside the growing shape in front of us, and as the shape coalesced it formed the figure of a man - gigantic of stature and imperious in his stance. His blue eyes stared unblinkingly at us, and we stared back, struck dumb by the vision.
    ‘Well?’ he finally said. His accent was strong, but the meaning of his words came through. ‘Why have you called me here?’
    He had the bearing of a soldier, and his voice held a tone of command, so much so that my legs were trembling and my tongue felt as if it was struck in my palate. Jamie had no such trouble.
    ‘We need you, Sir - your country needs you - these are perilous times in your homeland.’
    The figure threw back his head and laughed - a great bellowing sound that shook the whole room.
    ‘Hs it come to this? Have you become so weak?
    He laughed again, and I felt like cowering before him. Jamie was becoming angry.
    ‘You cannot deny us. We need the old strength.’
    ‘You would command me?’ the figure said, his voice low, his eyes flashing angrily. ‘You cannot live in the past. Each generation must fight their battles alone. Live for now, not for a time that will never return. Leave me in peace - I have long ago played my part in this mummery.’
    The red glow began to fade - imperceptibly at first, but soon we could see Robert’s tortured frame writhing in its midst.
    ‘No!’ Jamie shouted.
    Before I could stop him, he stepped forward into the circle. And Hell came to Dunnotar.
    The red cloud writhed and flowed, enveloping Jamie in its folds like a huge velvet cloak. The great door blew open, metal screaming as the massive hinges were torn from their places, the wind howling as the door fell to the floor with a thunderclap crash. Within the circle the cloud was shrinking, smaller, then smaller still, the figures within shrinking along with it. The last thing I heard before silence fell was Jamie’s voice falling away into the distance, pleading over and over for mercy.
    I was left alone in a suddenly silent room. All that was left in the circle was the ancient chain, still carrying its contents, which were gleaming like a fiery ember.
    I stepped into the circle, muscles tensed in expectation of attack. But none came, and there was only the sound of the wind as I lifted the chain and walked into the night.
    I thought of the past, of the great victory over Edward’s army, of the Earl of Douglas taking this same chain to the Crusades, of the centuries it had lain in its tomb. In the distance I imagined I heard the marching drums of the English Army as I raised my arm and sent the heart of the Bruce to its final resting place.
    　
    　
~-oO0Oo-~
    　
Habit
    Coma.
    That was the only word I heard while doctors and nurses tried to stem the life bleeding from my wife. I couldn’t stay there, not then, not while they attached the tubes and machines. I left in search of a place where I could have a cigarette.
    An orderly pointed me along past the waiting areas.
    "Down there and through the fire escape."
    I went down the corridor, eventually coming to a set of fire doors. I pushed through into a small interior courtyard.
    At one time someone had tried to make a garden area for patients, but now it looked to be turned over totally to the pursuit of the nicotine hit. Four benches sat around a small pond. There might be fish in there, but if there were, they were living on the cigarette ends that were getting pushed around the surface by a sluggish fountain that burped and belched like an asthmatic cow. Butts, spent matches and empty cartons lay strewn in random patterns on the ground.
    On the far side of the pond sat just about the sickest man I’ve ever seen. He was in his pyjamas and dressing gown,