In the Maclaines clan, the story of the headless horseman was much more than a legend told at the wakes, to discourage the more daring to venture out at night. For those who dared to challenge the darkness, a dreadful specter would appear, mounted on a monstrous steed and carry them away on a one-way trip. None of the Maclaines who had seen him had survived.
The decapitated horseman was known as Little Head Hugh. A former warrior, Hugh had met his fate on a battlefield, in the form of a mighty sword, which had swept the top of his head from him. Not quite dead, but not very alive, he had since been stuck between the two worlds, condemned to deliver unfortunate people to the grim sickle.
One night, one of the Maclaines clan members, Andrew, broke family law. The evening had been good at the neighbors’, the Fairclouds, singing traditional songs among friends. Late at night, he went back home on foot.
As he walked through the forest, he heard the gallop of a horse come closer. Overwhelmed by panic, Andrew ran as if Hell were opening under his feet. Who could be that nocturnal horseman, if not Little Head Hugh? He could almost feel the breath of the cursed horse on his neck … while the firm hand of the headless horseman was trying to grab him by the collar.
Andrew was quick and managed to cling to the branch of a tree. While the headless horseman was pulling him by the collar with a diabolical force, Andrew’s arm held firm, but under pressure the trunk was twisting dangerously. Weakly buried, the roots of the young tree were letting go, one after the other. As the tree only had one root left, and Andrew’s life was hanging on a thread, the day began to dawn on the horizon. Howling in frustration, the headless horseman left …
Since then, on the road, the crooked tree can still be seen. Each passer-by greets them, as the memory of the victory of the Maclaines clan over the death messenger. No clan member ever heard of it again. Better to meet death than its terrifying messenger …
