Blood of the Clans
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Blood Of The Clans Ch. 29 free porn video
The birlinn pulled up to the shore and two MacRae clansmen jumped out and pulled it tight to the shore. James alit on ground and walked straight to Dunollie Castle, wasting no time in unloading the bodies. The guard opened the door before he made it to it and walked in.
‘Who’s in charge?’ was all he shouted out in the hall.
Andrew’s youngest brother, Malcolm, shouted from the second floor. ‘I’m in charge, MacRae,’ and continued down the stairs.
When Malcolm had descended the stairs and stood in front of MacRae, he waited to hear what he wanted. MacRae looked down at Malcolm and put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Yer brothers are dead, Malcolm. They came tae me in that storm last night and their birlinn was wrecked. Smashed tae splinters by a massive wave, so I’ve been told by the fishermen who found them. I ha’e their bodies in my birlinn, awaiting ye fer what ye want tae do. Ha’e some men go and bring them up, while we talk.’
Malcolm stood in shock at hearing the news and the casual way MacRae related the deaths to him. He couldn’t imagine his brothers dying and was totally unprepared for that event happening. He didn’t have the sense of command, like Andrew did and never spoke to his men.
‘Ye two, go get the men from my birlinn and bring them intae the keep.’ MacRae ordered two men at the door.
They bowed and left quickly to follow the order given. James put his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder and led him to the fire. He stood warming himself and looked at Malcolm, a look of sorrow sweeping over him and a loss of his ability to command being evident.
‘Malcolm, I know this is hard on ye tae deal wi’, but I ha’e talk tae ye. Get a hold of yerself, man and listen tae what I ha’e tae say. Harlan Douglas spoke his final words tae me and told me Fraser was behind his lads being killed and not the clan they took the birlinn from. Did ye hear what he said?’ James asked in hopes he had heard the whole story from Douglas.
‘Aye, I did. He came here and talked tae Andrew and had another man, a McGregor, I think he was, tell him of hoo he found the boys off Luing, wi’ their feet tied t’gether.’ Malcolm did his best to recollect the night before.
‘Their feet were tied? Are ye sure that’s what he said?’ James questioned him, finding the actual events hard to believe.
‘Aye, I’ll swear tae that, that that’s what he said aboot them. Their feet were tied, but no other signs of injury were on them. Andrew asked if there were any arras in the bodies and the man said there were’ne any at all. That’s when Andrew made the order tae sail tae ye. He felt it was something that could’ne wait tae be said tae ye. Douglas was going on aboot revenge fer their murders and saying Fraser had done it tae his lads.’ Malcolm finished relating everything he could remember and James stood looking into the fire and pondered the facts of the matter.
‘If this is the truth, Malcolm, we ha’e a visit tae make tae the Fraser’s. I gave an order that no man under my command would touch another. I made it standing right here, ye heard it yerself. Noo, I want ye tae get at least fifty men t’gether and be marching tae the Falls of Lora at daybreak the morrow, wi’ bows, arras, swords and spears. Ye’ll meet up wi’ the Douglas clan at the head of the valley and march north till ye get near them. Ye’ll come straight up and Douglas will go tae the west tae the coast and we’ll drive them in tae the centre of us.’
James’ words left Malcolm feeling a mix of conflicting emotions, ones he was at odds to put together and deal with. His brothers dead at the hand of God, and now James
MacRae wanting him to join in and deal with the Fraser’s. He couldn’t decide what he wanted to feel first, the grief or the anger. In frustration he raised his face and with clenched fists, screamed loudly, the echoes ringing throughout the castle. James saw the anxiety and frustration and laid a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder.
‘Go, see tae yer kin first and I’ll take the Douglas’ back tae their clan. I’ll be sailing tae the MacLean’s after that and getting them ready. I’m sorry fer yer loss, Malcolm, but there’s no much time fer weeping. Acts against the alliance ha’e made, this is necessary tae deal wi’, noo.’
Malcolm fought hard with himself, coming to terms with everything happening and said to him. He nodded his answer and walked away from James, going to the door to see his brother Andrew being brought in. He slowly pulled back the robe and looked at the lifeless body, at first imagining Andrew was just sleeping. When he saw the massive hole in his stomach, the truth hit home hard. He stood and wept, as the men brought his other brother, Bruce, in.
He looked at the covered body and hoped it wasn’t as horrifying as Andrew’s. He pulled back the robe and instantly saw the discolouration from the trauma he sustained. Bruising was evident, but the broken spine showing out the side of his neck, told of the painful death he had. He looked no further and covered him over again.
Once more the men came in and his last sibling, John, was placed beside the others. He was now hesitant at wanting to see what state he was in, but pulled the robe back slowly. He took one look at the battered pulp that remained of his face and quickly threw the robe back over him. James came over to him and stood beside him. He hoped seeing his brothers like this would put a rage inside him, one to command and unleash on the Fraser’s.
‘Do what ye must, Malcolm, I’ll go tae see the Douglas’ noo. Ha’e the men ready tae march. This time tomorrow, the Fraser’s will be answering fer these deaths, as well as the others.’ he told him unemotionally, but a firmness that made Malcolm take stock of what was asked of him.
MacRae left the castle and boarded the birlinn once again. The oars were set to and the sail raised, as they made their way further south to Oban. The distance was less than two miles that they had to go, but the time for thought, made the journey seem far longer. The men paid as little attention to the bodies as they could, wanting nothing more than to be rid of them and the growing smell of death gone. The birlinn was run aground and two men jumped out and pulled hard on the lines to bring it up on shore further.
The Douglas clan came to meet them, as James jumped down, to relay the news to them.
‘There was a wreck in the storm last night. Harlan is dead, along wi’ the four men he sailed wi’. They’re in the boat, but they’re in bad shape. MacDougall took it hard tae see his three brothers like that. All I can tell ye’s, is that it was a bloody, great wave that mus’tae picked up their birlinn and crashed it intae the rocks o’er five hundred feet on shore. I saw it myself and measured it oot. If ye told me, I’d think yer off yer head, but the birlinn is there fer ye tae see. My men will hand ye doon the bodies. I need tae know who’s in charge noo, we ha’e tae talk.’
A dozen men went to the birlinn and were passed down the covered bodies of Harlan and the others. They were carried to a set of rough tables in a cleared area and laid out. As the first robe was pulled back, wailing and crying broke out amongst several women and soon after, their children.
Eighteen year old, Kirklan Douglas, Harlan’s last relative in line, looked at James MacRae with shock, as he was told of how his uncle, his father and two cousins, had met their deaths at the hand of God. Fear struck him deep, as he added up the number of his clan that were dead and the fighting hadn’t even started yet.
‘I am.’ Kirklan spoke out weakly, feeling he was marking his own fate by acknowledging it.
James looked at him and sized him up. He could see he wasn’t a leader and had no size or strength to him. He walked to Kirklan and pulled him away from the rest, making him walk with him, as he spoke privately.
‘Yer the leader of the clan? Yer the next in line? What’s yer name, boy?’
‘Kirklan Douglas, Laird MacRae. I wa
s told I was next, if my father, Killian, died. He’s dead, isn’t he?’ Kirklan started to show the strain of emotional agony, knowing the answer already.
‘Aye, lad, yer father’s gone.’ James told him with a softening in his voice.
Too many times now, James looked at young men who were head of their clans and realized he was leading an army of leaderless men. Harlan was to lead the ground troops up the River Sheil and now he looked at the boy beside him and knew he had no idea of what it took to command hundreds of men into battle. Andrew had proved himself a valiant warrior many times, but Malcolm was only a mere shadow of his brother. Iain MacLean was the only one who seemed to have the mettle to lead his clan and he too was barely out of his teens. The only new head that had anything to offer as a leader, was Sloan Fraser, now to be visited with his wrath and an example to be made of for defying him.
‘I ha’e tae get back tae see the MacLean’s, Kirklan. I’ll say it tae ye as a man, I can’ne see ye leading yer men intae battle, so appoint a man in yer stead tae lead. If ye can’t, I will.’
MacRae’s request slammed Kirklan hard. It was one thing to come and tell him of his family’s demise, it was another to be told he was ineffectual and useless. Kirklan reeled back from MacRae and looked at him with grief-stricken rage. The insult festered and grew in him, as his emotions ran rampant. His only reactive thought was to draw his dirk and attacked James. James stood still, as Kirklan closed the short distance between them, judging his actions. At the right moment, he drew his skean from his oxter and slashed it across Kirklan’s chest. Kirklan stopped instantly and stood in shock, as a line of red appeared across his chest and grew quickly.
MacRae knew it wasn’t fatal, but a debilitating injury that would take along time to heal, one that would leave an impression in Kirklan’s mind. He took the dirk from Kirklan’s frozen grip, tossing it aside and held his shoulders.
‘I could’e killed ye, ye know that. Ye’ve lost yer kin and yer no in yer right head, so I ga’e ye a reminder tae keep it, before ye think of doing something like that again. I’ll choose a man among them and appoint him as leader. Noo, go and get that seen tae.’
Kirklan felt the searing pain of the razor sharp blade running across his chest and radiating out in nauseating waves. He looked at the blood staining his tunic through the sliced fabric and then at James MacRae, weakening in his stance. MacRae turned him towards the people gathering and looked at them.
‘See tae Kirklan’s wound and I need all the men tae come forward.’ he barked out loudly.
His ability to take command over them, had a couple of men come and take Kirklan to a hut and lay him on pile of robes. An elderly woman, who had been tending to the dead, went in with a bowl of water and cloth and washed away the bloodied area, before she took a rough needle and course thread and started to close the wound. Kirklan screamed out, as the dulled point pierced his skin and then again on the other side. The woman paid no mind to his cries and tied the first stitch tight. She had seen enough battle injuries to know compassion had to wait, until the wound was fixed first. She turned her head and looked out at James MacRae and felt a despising of him grow in her.
The men obeyed MacRae and stood before him. He walked along the line and looked at each man carefully, sizing up what they were to him. He asked them if they had any battle experience and if they knew how to give and take commands. He picked out the three who acknowledged him and had them step forward.
‘Yer name and yer experience.’ MacRae asked the first man.
‘MacKenzie. I’ve fought by Harlan’s side in three battles and led men in tae some of them.’ he stated, with assurance of his abilities.
‘Yer still alive, MacKenzie. That says ye’ve got the ability tae fight. Can ye lead the men, as I tell ye tae?’ James was in hope of finding a suitable captain and this man had potential.
‘Aye, the men will follow me and I’ll do as ye command me tae do.’ MacKenzie told him, then turned to the ones beside him, for confirmation.
Tormod and Roland looked at MacKenzie, then to MacRae, assuring him MacKenzie spoke the truth. James looked at both men and then back to MacKenzie.
‘Ye’ll be the new captain of this clan, MacKenzie. Kirklan can hold the position of head, but he’ll no ha’e any say in hoo the men are led. He’s tae young tae lead and has’ne any wits aboot him. I can’ne ha’e a man like that, leading men intae battle. Battles are won or lost on the ability of a man tae stand and fight and no run away, or worse, surrender. Ye know as well as me, Kirklan has’ne the heart of a warrior in him.’
Mackenzie, Tormod and Roland nodded in agreement, without question. James looked at Roland and Tormod, taking a measure of them.
‘Ye tae, ye’ll follow MacKenzie’s orders?’ James asked, getting nods and ‘Ayes,’ from them. ‘Ye’ll be his lieutenants. The three of ye’s, come wi’ me the noo, we must talk.’
James MacRae led his new officers away from earshot of the others. The wails and crying of women and children made enough noise to mask their voices, as MacRae looked at them and gave them their first command to follow.
‘We’re going tae settle wi’ the Fraser’s, and ye’s know why. The MacDougall’s will be joining in as well. Ye’ll both march the men up tae Loch Etive, through the pass. They’re camped by the Falls of Lora. I’ll sail two birlinn, wi’ forty men on each, I ha’e tae get o’er tae Loch a Choire and ha’e MacLean pull his birlinn out and bring fifty of his men. We’ll land on the far side of them. We’ll come about the foothills from the west and cut off any escape from there. Ye and MacDougall will approach from the south and east of them. When we ha’e them all, they die where they are. Fraser and his uncle, along wi’ his men, heard my orders, the same as Harlan, MacDougall and MacLean all heard them. When we leave there, that clan won’t exist. Their line stops there. It’ll set an example tae anyone who sees it, my word is command. I hold the power o’er life and death.’
The three men stood in dread of what they would be asked to do, once they had the Fraser’s. They looked at James MacRae, and held a fear of him in their hearts. Harlan wanted revenge for the deaths of his sons and kin, but MacRae was exacting a measure of his own influence into it, making a statement in how it would be done.
‘I can see they ha’e the men prepared. I’ll leave ye’s tae pay yer respects tae them. I’ll go tae MacLean noo and ha’e him ready his men and birlinn fer the morrow’s raid. Ye ha’e yer men marching at first light. By the time ye co’er the five miles distance, we’ll be on the far side and coming aroond. Don’t disappoint me, any of ye’s. Is that understood?’
‘Aye, Laird MacRae, I understand. I’ll be at the head of the valley by break of light and march wi’ MacDougall tae Falls of Lora. I’ll take our men and head tae the west side and come from the coast, while MacDougall can come straight up and join both of us. What signal will ye use tae start?’ MacKenzie asked.
‘As soon as yer in place, start driving them towards me and MacDougall will do the same.
Once they’re surrounded, we’ll lay waste tae the lot.’
James’ tone and look on his face told them killing was only part of what he had in mind. As they pondered the deeds to be done, the agonizing screams and cries of Kirklan, kept ringing out from the hut, as stitch after stitch was made to close the gash. By the time MacRae boarded his birlinn, Kirklan had passed out from the pain, while the last of his forty six stitches were applied and bandaged.
MacRae sailed northwest across the Sound of Mull and rounded Eilean Musdile, the southern most point of Lismore, before heading north. He looked to the west at Duart Castle, once Iain’s castle, perched high on a bluff and imagined taking it from the Campbell’s in years
to come. He had no ties to them and cared less if they wanted to join under him or not. He could live there and let his son rule at Donan. James liked the idea of amassing castles and lands, his rule enacted across them, the people serving him and paying their taxes.
The twelve mile sail left James with lots of time to think of future conquests, but his head focused on the task at hand. He wanted a lasting memory of his power in this revenge. A memory set deep in their minds and hearts to never defy him again. As the river flowing down Glen Galmadale emptied into the cove at the mouth of Loch a Choire, MacRae could see several men pulling in nets onto shore. The birlinn scraped along the gravelled shore as it came ashore, MacRae jumping over the side before it stopped.
‘Where’s Iain? Fetch him tae me at once.’ MacRae barked out the moment his feet touched ground.
One man dropped his end of the net and ran off along the river, up to the camp. In a couple of minutes, Iain was walking back with the man.
‘Laird MacRae, what brings ye tae our camp?’ Iain said with a friendly smile.
His smile faded quickly as James approached and made a motion for them to walk together.
‘Get yer birlinn out of hiding, MacLean. We sail t’morrow fer the Fraser camp across the way.’
Iain heard the order, but had no understanding of why. He looked at MacRae with a puzzled look, trying to make sense of it. When MacRae had walked them far enough way from the others, MacRae told him of the events of last night. Iain’s face went from puzzled to shocked unbelievability. When MacRae told him the reason why they came to see him, Iain’s face took on a look of growing hatred. MacLean wanted nothing more than to avenge his father’s death and Blain Fraser would know how that revenge would feel.
The two walked back towards the encampment and as soon as they were there, Iain barked out orders for the men to prepare for battle and have the birlinn readied. He had his captain assemble his leaders in front of MacRae and himself.
‘In the morrow’s dawning, I’ll be sailing two birlinn here, wi’ forty men on each and fifty of ye’s will be sailing wi’ me. We’ll land on this side of Loch Etive and make our way around the hills. MacDougall and Douglas will ha’e about fifty men each and come up the pass from Oban. We’ll drive the lot intae the centre of us and then wipe out the clan. We’ll leave a reminder tae those who dare defy me, it was the wrong choice tae make.’ MacRae’s eyes and face spoke more to the men than his words.
James could see the response was what the MacLean’s had been longing for. Since Blain Fraser’s murder of their leader, Jacob, they had a festering desire to avenge it, but stayed in line with MacRae’s order. Now that that order was rescinded, a desire to enact their hatred grew in each man. MacRae looked about at them all and was inwardly happy, knowing he had men who would follow his orders and make an example of the Fraser’s.
Within the hour, MacRae was back in Ballachulish, assembling his own men. He briefed them on the plan of attack and once finished, he gave the order to celebrate and whisky was served in large quantities to the men. James knew what his men were like after a good amount of whisky was in them. He had made sure they drank the night before they
took Ballachulish and the results were what he had hoped for. The savagery committed was what MacRae wanted the people to know about him. Defiance became something that was never thought of, once they had seen what awaited them, if they did.
*****************
‘I’ll stop there fer now, Stuart. I need tae take a wee break and relieve myself.’ Argus whispered to Stuart, at his right side.
‘Are ye all right, Argus?’ Stuart said in concern, seeing the discomfort showing on Argus’ face.
‘Aye, I may ha’e ate a wee bit tae much shortbread and it’s gi’ing me a bit of an upset stomach.’ Argus admitted sheepishly.
Stuart had to laugh, knowing how much Argus had put away during the telling.
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