The owl

The black night seeped through him in swirls of fear, and the hairs on his neck rose in the ominous silence.

Duncan clenched his fingers over the map and forced himself to keep the pace. The map was seared in his memory; he didn't need light to feel the waterfall, the river with its tributary and the owl. 

He passed through the cascade falling over the stone wall that forced the stream to join the river a good distance behind him. He looked around him with frustration and struggled to detect the outline of an owl, a stone that would mark the place of the treasure.

He paid dearly for the scrap of parchment and still questioned the wisdom of it. The Dragon was paying well. However, his coffers were dwindling and enemies and false friends surrounded him. There would be hardly any loot to share now that Mehmed was coming with a force outnumbering them ten times. The raids across the frozen Danube ended, and he had little left to sell.   

A sudden swish and a gust of air froze his limbs and sent his heart on a wild race. He fell to the ground and blended into the grass.

He looked around and then he saw it, a dim glimmer of light behind a large boulder. The faint scent of smoke tickled his nostrils, and the wind carried the sound of deep voices.

He rolled in the grass, looked at the stars and cursed the one responsible for his misfortune. The treasure, this elusive treasure was his only chance to hire enough mercenaries to regain his rightful place as the heir of Alardys.

He closed his eyes in defeat and brown curls over a white shirt twirled in the summer breeze. He shook his head to banish the memory, as he had no right to her. After he'd punish his greedy brother, he'd have to marry his widow to keep the lands together. 

A gust of wind slapped his face, and a heavy weight landed on his chest. He opened his eyes to gaze into round saucers that blinked with wisdom.

He stifled a cry and tried to gently shoo the creature off his chest.  The owl looked away, and Duncan couldn't stop himself from following its direction. Two of the brigands were approaching his hiding place within the deep grass. He murmured a prayer and forced himself to remain still. Their voices trailed as they passed him.

"Legends say the owl is the guard and protector of the treasure. We must find the owl."

The owl landed again on his chest in a swirl of air, and Duncan held his breath afraid not to scare the bird. Its eyes opened, and its neck turned suddenly towards the brigands. Duncan understood, and two knives flew from his hands into their necks. He heard a muffled gurgling sound and a thud; however, the bird stayed on his chest.

He felt the flap of wings and a soft breeze caressing his face. He turned and watched the bird fly to the tall stone hiding the rest of the men. How many brigands hid behind the great stone?

Duncan slithered to the corpses and recovered his daggers. Would the owl show him the treasure?

Four howls startled him, and he couldn't contain the sense of foreboding hearing the deep sounds that penetrated the night.

Four men circled the rock and had their eyes trained on the bird. The owl howled again, and he struggled to rein in the shivers. He took advantage of the noise and slithered closer to the men.

In the muted light of the stars, the four men looked little more than shadows. The fire glowed behind the rock and the dim light escaping from behind surrounded the bird in a red halo. 

The wind carried the brigand's voices to him.
"People say it belongs to a king of old. He buried the treasure and changed the course of the stream to flow over it."

"He then took his own life, so he wouldn't fall in the hands of his enemies."

"Some say the owl is his grand priest who swore to guard the treasure until such time comes to reveal it."

A burly brigand growled, and the others met him with laughter of approval.
"The time came."

Did the owl blink? Then it howled again, and Duncan didn't waste the opportunity.  He buried the knives in the closest throats and jumped to his feet, with his sword drawn.

The owl watched the fight with patience, and wisdom in its eyes. Duncan never saw it, as he labored to take down the brigands.

He wiped his sword and raised his head to find the owl gone. He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration and stepped behind the stone.

There it was. The owl with its wings spread wide, gleamed white under the light of the bonfire. It perched on a wooden chest, and Duncan came closer to study it. A key inserted in the lock suggested the chest was open. The owl blinked its eyes, and its wings caressed his face as it flew up in the sky. 

Duncan opened the lid and gasped when he found it full of gold. Greed! The brigands held so much gold, and they still lusted after the treasure.

He bowed in gratitude then shook his head and struggled to lift the chest.

The gold in the chest would help him to take his revenge on Rory. The coffer held enough riches that that he didn't need to marry the traitorous Alyssa. His heart soared as the memory of brown curls and rosy lips rushed back and warmed his blood.

He threw the map in the fire. The secret treasure of the kings of old would remain undisturbed.