Chapters (43)
- Author's Note
- Acknowledgments
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Epilogue
- Notes on Loch Ness
- Attention Secondary School Teachers
Translated by Logan W. Wallace
Entry: 17 October 1330
Three weeks have passed since I came upon the care o' the Chivalric Military Order o' the Temple o' Jerusalem, the Templar name havin' been discarded, so I'm telt, since the massacre under Phillip the Fair. The Priest Knight, MacDonald, claims bloodlines goin' back tae Saint Columba himsel', an' his healin' ways offer me little doubt. The fever is gone, an' I am beginnin' tae feel like mysel' again. Guid news, I'm telt, as I will need my strength against whit lies ahead.
Entry: 22 October 1330
A long day has come an' gone, the night settlin' in ower oor arbor. A tempest wind whips the flames o' oor fire, causin' it tae dance, makin' it difficult tae write, but I am determined tae complete the entry.
We had set oot on foot frae the Moray Firth jist afore the dawn, eight Templars, mysel', an' the Bruce's sacred casket, hung safely roond my neck. For hours we followed the River Mess as it wove its may south, but by midday, the mountains had risen along either side o' us. The goin' got awfy rough, but ne'er had I seen such a bonnie sight. Hills once emerald were dyin' intae golds an' reds an' purples, an' I could smell the winter in the air. The river thickened along a bend an' MacDonald pointed out the very spot where Saint Columba wis said tae have saved a Pict warrior frae one o' the beasts we noo sought.
I remained a disbeliever.
By last light we completed oor day's march, comin' tae the banks o' a narrow channel that widened along the mooth of Loch Ness. Twis the first time my eyes gazed upon its dark waters, which ran tae the horizon as far as I could see. The sky wis heavy an' grey noo, an' thunder shook the valley roond us. Seekin' shelter, MacDonald instructed we make camp in the forest awa' frae the shore, lest the dragons surface an' become curious.
The Templar's talk o' dragons, at first jovial in nature, has begun tae unnerve me a bit in these ominous surroundings. Though I still refuse tae believe, the blade o' Sir William shall remain close by my side as I sleep.