Blood of the Clans
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Blood Of The Clans Ch. 18 free porn video
As the men prepared the ship to leave port, Therese looked for a guard or soldier to give her last letter to. She spotted a soldier on patrol, coming up the pier and called out to him. The soldier recognized who she was and made haste to the gangway, before it was raised. He stood in front of her at attention and waited for her direction.
‘I want you to give this letter to the Earl, no one else. Make sure that he gets it, after, I have left.’ Her emphasis on after, being stressed to him.
The soldier took the letter and held onto it, before bowing quickly and rushing off the ship, as the gangway was ready to be released. He stood on the pier and watched the ship move slowly out into the harbour, before the sails were raised and the ship moved under the power of wind, onto its destination.
The soldier walked back through the village, stopping every now and then to talk to people, or chastise young miscreants up to no good stealing fruit and bread from the vendors. It was late morning, when the soldier walked through the gate and proceeded to the Earl’s office. He was told to wait, until the Earl was finished with his business. It was closer to mid-day when the Earl called out for first entry, rolling up maps and charters and storing them safely in his desk. The soldier approached and stopped before Douglas, bowing in respect and handed him the letter.
‘It’s from Lady Therese, M’Lord. She instructed me to bring it tae ye after she sailed.’
Douglas shooed him away, as he smiled, looking at his name in her handwriting. Once the door closed, he broke the wax seal and opened the folds. He puffed out his chest expecting to see flowery words of love to him, instead reading the first paragraph and standing in shocked horror at her words. By the time he finished, he was in a petulant frenzy, storming about the room, denying her words and demanding justice. She was his, she signed a contract with him saying so and letter be damned, he was going to have her.
The ship was well around the point on Islay and sailing down the Irish Sea, as Therese stood on the foredeck and looked out, there in the distance, much too far to ever see yet, was her home and freedom, filling her with hope and happiness, as she drew nearer to it. Her heart also wept for a sadness, as every mile she sailed closer to home, she sailed a mile further away from the love she held in her heart. She turned back to the fading coast of Scotland, wondering where Arabella could be, amongst the continuous mountains and lochs, never knowing how close she was the entire time she was there.
She steeled her heart and knew she had to be strong and use all her abilities to run the chateau and the estate. She closed her eyes and imagined driving up in a carriage, the sun shining brightly off the stone face, the gate open and once again calling Trecesson home.
After Garreth awoke with the rising sun, the first thing after dressing and relieving himself in the bed pot, was to look at the cross around his neck and kiss it, then he pulled the letter from Therese out of his pouch and cracked the seal. The scent of her flooded his senses, as he unfolded it. The more words he read, the bigger his smile became, as his feelings for her were confirmed by her words for him. He was fairly singing in happiness and then came across her final request. His face was one of surprise at seeing that Therese and Arabella were friends, then all at once, feeling he should have read this before she left. Not once did he put the Therese he had met, with the one told of by Arabella years ago.
He left his room and loudly knocked on Grayson’s door, next to his. A groggy, dishevelled Grayson opened the door with just his kilt on, hastily wrapped and nearly threatening to expose himself.
‘What is it Garreth? The bloody sun’s barely e’en up. Och, I see why.’ Grayson said grumpily at being woken, then spying the letter in Garreth’s hand.
‘Och, it was time ye were up any way, ye great, horrible hungus. It’s no what it says tae me, I came wi’ it. Listen tae this, ‘ I have one request that I must ask of you, Garreth, my love,’ ‘ to which Grayson gave a derisive snicker, Garreth showing a face of disdain at his reaction, then continued. ‘ I wish to know if Laird Grayson, is of a relation to Arabella of Castle Tioram. It is my most heart-felt hope to contact her.’ and the rest ye don’t need tae hear.’ Garreth finished off, smiling again, at what he knew it said.
‘She’s the Therese that knows my sister, Arabella? Why did she no say something while she was here? We’re no e’en thirty miles from Tioram. Arabella could’e been here in a morning’s ride tae see her.’ Grayson said more alertly, after hearing what it was. Grayson looked at Garreth with suspicious thoughts in his mind, his eyes and face showing the wheels turning inside. ‘That wee poof of a man doonstairs knows full well, Arabella is my sister. I’m sure Lady Therese asked when she got here, if he knew her, or not. I know how close those two are. Do ye remember the way she went on aboot her, when she got back? E’en wi’ Logan and her engaged, she talked bloody endlessly aboot the two of them this and the two of them that. Arabella would ha’e been the first one she’d of wanted tae contact after landing. So why did’ne Douglas let her know? Something’s no right, Garreth.’ Grayson’s eyes were no longer sleepy, but alert and a smouldering dislike growing in them.
Grayson’s words sank into Garreth and he weighed each one with countenance. Why didn’t the Earl allow her contact? Why has he been acting so nonchalant about the entire MacRae raid? Why hasn’t anything been done in the investigation? Too many things started to come to the fore and shed a bad light on Douglas.
‘I think we’ll need tae a pay a wee visit tae Douglas and find oot aboot a few things. There’s tae many questions that hav’ne been answered and it’s aboot time they were. Don’t ye think?’ Garreth asked Grayson, in their bantered talk, knowing the same thoughts were in his head as well.
‘Aye, let’s get a meal intae us first and then we’ll go and see that wee fart.’ Grayson told him and started to dress properly.
‘Is that all ye can think of, is food? No wonder yer the size ye are. I’m starting tae think I’ll ha’e tae keep the coo’s under watch while yer aroond, just in case ye feel a bit peckish and need a nosh.’ Garreth’s jesting set the rage in motion in Grayson.
‘I need tae eat, ye wee twig of a man. What are ye, fourteen, maybe fifteen stone? I’m nearly nineteen stone, so ye can’ne look this good and be this strong, if ye don’t.’ Grayson’s reply stabbing back at Garreth, as he finished putting on his sash and belts. He picked up his Claymore and ran his hand down the blade, looking at Garreth with a mocking meanness, before sheathing it. He ran his fingers through his shaggy mane of flaming red hair and smiled.
‘Save that face, fer when ye’ll need it. I’m getting my feelings aboot all of this, and it’s no good. I’ve had this in my head since we’ve come here and I can’ne shake it.’ Garreth’s look took a more serious intent, as he spoke and Grayson understood his trepidations. Things hadn’t added up right from the beginning with the Earl, for both of them.
Douglas paced his office in countless patterns, changing it each time he had a thought. He looked at his map of Europe hanging on the wall behind his desk, focusing on France. He walked towards it, looking back and forth between Inverlochy and Chateau de Trecesson, a white pin, denoting its location. He could think of no other thought than to just go there and take her back. If anyone protested, he had a signed contract of marriage and was only bringing his betrothed back to him to wed her. He was well within his rights and the letter of the law that ruled his land backed him. She was his, Douglas smiled. He picked up the paper signed by Lady Yvette de Trecesson and himself and smiled broader.
As Garreth and Grayson ate oatcakes and slices of fatty bacon, t
hey discussed how they were going to handle things with Douglas later. They had so many issues to deal with, all of them important, but far apart in context to deal with as a whole. The MacDonnell’s, the MacRae’s, the investigation and trial, the charters of their castles coming into question and what did Douglas Wallace, fourth Earl of Huntly, have to do with all of it?
Seeing too many of the Earl’s men about them, they finished eating and headed to the stables. They wanted to talk more in depth and openly, forming a united plan of attack between them, as they rode away on horseback from the fort and out into the hills.
At Castle Tioram, life had returned to a normal routine of life, the crofters bringing in their taxes, in crops and livestock. Arabella counted off the amounts of each one against her ledger and smiled, knowing that things would be stable here, should they have a siege. As she came back into the keep, she went up the stairs to her chambers and passed Lady Anne’s room and saw her and her daughter, Heather, in front of the fire. The quiet sobbing, as Heather knelt in front of her mother, her face buried in her lap, made Arabella stop and look at the scene, her heart aching, knowing why the tears were being shed. Arabella walked on sadly, leaving Anne to gently stroke her daughter’s hair, as she let her weep for her pain and anguish.
Even though the bruises and cuts of her ordeal were fading, the memory still cut into Heather like a knife every day. Hardly a moment would pass, when she closed her eyes, did the scenes flash across them, replaying every horrifying moment. Not a night had passed since she arrived, that she didn’t wake up screaming, her mother comforting her, until she could sleep again. For all that her life was spared, it had also been taken away from her. She felt soiled, impure, unfit for a man to take as his wife. Barely at the age to marry, her hopes of love to a noble man, cast into the darkness of despair, resigning herself to her Fate.
Garreth and Grayson returned to the castle, in late morning and rode through the open gate, continuing straight to the main house and the office of Douglas Wallace. They tied up to the rail and went inside, ready to have a few answers made. The guards held them at the door, while one entered and shortly came back out. Garreth and Grayson looked the guards over in wonderment, as to why they were detained like that. The Lairds entered and the door was closed behind them. They took seats at the Earl’s desk and gave him their attention, hoping he was ready to tell them something. The Earl looked at them in kind, as if waiting for them to speak.
‘Yes, what is it?’ Douglas prodded them.
‘That would be fer ye tae answer M’Lord Earl. We’ve been here three days and seen nothing being done aboot anything. Why isn’t James MacRae been held, along wi’ his sons and kin? When is the trial tae take place? What of all this charter business? Is Donan tae be held by the MacDonnell’s? How long before we can get an answer tae these things?’ Garreth’s question’s making little impact on Douglas’ demeanour.
‘I’ll tell you what decisions I’ve come to, Lairds. In regards to Eilean Donan castle, as I said earlier, is under my control, until I could confirm rightful ownership. As I have full authority, by decree of King James VI, to place possession of an unchartered castle and lands to a clan of my choosing, that is loyal to the King, I have weighed everything out and have decided the MacRae’s should get the castle and lands. There are very few MacDonnell’s to control such a large holding, making it seem likely another attack, by any clan, would have it falling to whatever clan was attacking. As the MacRae’s have pledged loyalty to his Highness and the MacDonnell’s haven’t, I look at the facts and know it is much better suited for them to take possession and rule. Let’s admit the facts my Lairds. The MacRae’s were able to take the castle, with only twenty men, I’m told.’ Before Douglas could continue, Grayson’s rage was set into motion, his hand reaching for his dirk.
‘Ye dare tae take away Donan from the MacDonnell’s and gi’e it tae the MacRae’s?’ Douglas saw Grayson’s hand pulling out the long dagger from its sheath, the blade coming into view. His eyes widen in horror and in moments found his voice and called for the guards Hearing his call, Grayson sheathed his dirk again, but his enraged look remained. In an attempt to defend himself, Douglas threw the first thing his hand found on the desk, a carved, metal paperweight. He hit Grayson’s chest with an ineffectual throw at him, the weight falling to the floor in front of Garreth.
The guards came in and stood beside the two Highlanders, hands on the handles of their swords, as they waited for an order from Douglas. Garreth bent down to pick up the paperweight and stood up again. Douglas watched him put the weight back on the desk and then a glint of sunlight caught his eye. There dangling from his neck was Therese’s necklace, the late morning sun sparkling off the gold and small jewels set in it. Douglas’ face went from fright to rage in moments, the realization of whose necklace it belonged to and why it would be around the neck of Garreth MacLeod, starting to make sense to the letter he received earlier.
‘WHAT…IS…THAT?’ Douglas’ finger pointing at the shining object.
Garreth tucked it back under his tunic and smirked at Grayson, shrugging his shoulders at being caught.
‘Arrest them.’ Douglas’ order sounding more like a whine.
The command didn’t seem to make sense to the guards, as they looked at the two Lairds and then back to the Earl.
‘I said take them into custody, now!’ Douglas’ voice sounding more like a crabbit woman, than an Earl of the realm.
Before the guards could react, Grayson elbowed the one beside him in the face, breaking his nose and driving him backwards. The other guard was almost through drawing his sword, before Garreth had his dirk to his throat, making him slide it back in. He put his arm around him and used him as a shield, as they backed out of the room. Once outside, Garreth pushed the guard forward and pushed him with his foot, so he fell face forward into the room. He shut the door and Grayson pushed a large cabinet in front of it, barring their exit. They ran to their horses, still tied to the hitching post out front, mounting them in leaping jumps and rode for the gate.
The two guards struggled against the door, but soon had it open. They ran outside and raised the alarm to close the gate. Garreth and Grayson were at a full gallop and making for the gate, their speed assuring them an escape. They rode through, as the two sentries tried to close the heavy gates on them, taking a swing at them with their swords. Riding past the guard tower, the guard took aim at them and let loose his arrow. Garreth’s horse broke stride, in pain, as the tip of the arrow pierced its’ back. Garreth howled in pain, as the same arrow was pinning his thigh to the horse. The shifting of his leg as he rode, drove white-hot pain into him, as the movements widened the hole. Reaching under, he pulled his leg up, removing the tip from the horse and urged it to run for all it could.
They made the safety of distance and continued riding at full gallop, putting more distance between them and the castle. The relatively flat land along the shore, provided them with the ability to keep their horses at full speed, making for the narrows at the River Lochy. They splashed through the shallow water and the thick, silted sand, slowing them briefly, before getting back up to full gallop along the north shore of Loch Eil. The nine mile ride was made in quick time, the coast offering a smooth journey.
When they had made it to the end of the loch, Grayson looked back to see if they were being followed and saw the weakened state Garreth was in. He was slumping over, barely holding on with one hand loose on the reins, the other clasped tight to the wound in his thigh. Grayson slowed to keep alo
ng side of him.
‘Can ye make it back tae Tioram, Garreth? Let me see.’ Grayson asked, as he helped Garreth sit up again.
Garreth moved his blood-soaked hand away, showing the arrow lodged through his leg, his kilt, his pouch and the letter from Therese inside. Grayson looked back, in the distance, he saw four riders were making their way along the loch towards them. He quickly tore a strip from his sash and wrapped it tightly above the wound, stemming the flow of blood. He looked back and saw the distance had closed considerably and knew they had to ride hard.
‘We’re no oot of trouble yet, Garreth. Ye ha’e tae make it tae Tioram.’
Garreth grimaced hard at the pain, feeling himself weakening from the loss of blood. He looked at Grayson, his face getting ashen.
‘I’ll do my best. Just lead the way and I’ll follow ye.’
Garreth’s strained voice brought a grave concern to him for his friend. As much as he wanted to stop and tend to Garreth’s wound, he knew by the time he had it finished, more arrows would be the end of them for sure. He rode along the shore of Loch Sheil, keeping his ear pealed for the sound of Garreth behind him, as he made his way down. Seeing the river ahead, he knew they were close and before long, at Tioram and help for him. He turned to tell Garreth where they were and saw him slumped over the horse’s back, barely clinging on. He looked back in haste for signs of the soldiers following and made a quick halt. He pulled Garreth’s head up and feared the worst. He leaned over as far as he could and heard his faint, raspy breath. A feeling of relief washed through him, as he grabbed the reins from Garreth’s hands and sped off again, down along the river and soon to Tioram.
Before he had reached the land bridge to the castle, Grayson was raising the alarm to the guards inside. As the hooves splashed in the ebbing tide waters, he hoped he had made it in time for his friend.
‘Laird Garreth’s been wounded and lost a lot of blood. I don’t know how much he has left, but the bleeding needs tae be stopped noo.’ He called out to Arabella, as she came into the courtyard.
‘Ye men, take Laird Garreth tae the hall table and lay him there. Ye, bring water and cloth and ye, I’ll need my needles and thread. All of ye’s move, NOW!’ Arabella’s commands going to the immediate people on the scene.
Everyone moved with the speed Arabella wanted and soon, Garreth was laying unconscious on the table, his breathing barely keeping him alive. Grayson turned Garreth’s leg, so he could cut off the point of the arrow. Arabella started to pull the arrow out and saw the tissue being held by the barbed grain of the wood. With no other choice, Grayson cut the shaft away, as close to Garreth’s leg as he could. Arabella pulled the arrow out the other way and it came away cleaner. Once the arrow was removed, more blood gurgled from both sides of his leg. Arabella washed away the blood and took her needle and linen thread and began to sew the opening shut, in hopes it would stop the flow and save Garreth from dying.
Hours passed after the bleeding was stopped, a constant vigil to make sure he lived through the ordeal. By late evening, he seemed to be stabilizing and breathing a bit better. Feeling he was able to move, she had him brought to her chambers, so he could rest in comfort. Once they had him near the bed, she had them carefully remove his blood-soaked kilt and then carefully moved him on to it and covered him with thick robes to keep him warm. She watched over him and never left his side, hoping to see him stir and awaken. When sleep became her need, she undressed and put on her nightdress, barely letting him out of her sight. Coming to the bed, she looked at him lying there peacefully, forgetting the dire circumstance he was in. She felt her mind travel back through time and space, to a memory of the day she looked at Garreth, as a young man.
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