Blood of the Clans
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Blood Of The Clans Ch. 22 free porn video
‘Uncle Stuart, are you saying the Irish were involved in the fighting as well?’ Tom asked him.
‘Aye Tom, the Irish in question were the relatives of Laird Hamish MacDonnell, as well as descendants of the MacDonald’s. They had a few castles on the north-east coast, one called Kinbane Castle, which means ‘White Headlands’, because of the white limestone of the area, another being Dunluce Castle, which was a bit farther doon the coast from it and yet another on Rathlin Island. The area’s quite popular noo, being as it’s right beside the Giant’s Causeway and Bushmill’s Distillery. Their favourite place tae patrol from was Mew Island. They would lie in wait for anything English tae sail by and attack it. That other place, Rathlin Island, has a sad history tae it too.’
‘Although they weren’t very tight-knit, they were still MacDonnell’s and took great offence at any of their clan being treated badly.’ Tavish interjected and nodded to Stuart he was done.
‘Actually, they’re all descendants of yer’s Tavish. Does anyone know what Mac and Mc and O mean in a name?’ Almost everyone shook their heads, or shrugged that they didn’t. ‘Only four of ye’s? Really? It means son of. Donald, was the Lord of the Isles and his descendants were the MacDonald’s, or in Irish spelling, Donnell, and of course, MacDonnell. The Irish O’Donnell’s are descendants of those MacDonnell’s. Sorley Boy is a descendant of the Scottish Chief Alexander MacDonnell, who was the Lord of Islay and Kintyre, at the time. Sorley came tae Ireland tae lay claim tae the north-east part in his clan’s name. He was the one who established the clan MacDonnell’s of Antrim.’
Stuart could see amazement at this new development in the story and smiled to himself, enjoying the way his clan, family and friends, were taking to their history and other clans as well.
‘Let me tell ye’s a bit aboot Sorley Boy. At one time he was in favour of the English and accepted their inroads, tae them being in Ireland. It was Queen Elizabeth the first that put an end tae that. In an effort tae bring him under control, they chopped off the head of his son, Alastar and nailed it above the gate of Dublin Castle. Well, ye can imagine what that would do tae a man. Sorley looked at his son’s head and proclaimed, ‘My son hath many heads,’ and proceeded tae take oot his revenge.
The other thing that set the man off, tae hating the English, happened not long before this. The English were trying tae stop Sorley from taking control of County Antrim, so, while Sorley and his men were in Ballycastle, on the mainland, the English raided the castle on Rathlin island and took all the people there prisoner. In a show of brutality, tae force them tae surrender tae their rule, they gathered up everyone and I mean everyone. Soldiers, villagers, women and children, the lot and at sword point, pushed them off the cliff, tae the rocks below. Sorley and all his men stood in the castle and watched them do it. So tell me, how much ye’d all hate the English, after seeing that?’
Claire MacDonald was the first to speak out. ‘Aye that’s right, Stuart. That did happen like that. I remember from oor history classes, we studied aboot it. That was a vile thing tae do tae people. I mean, I know men were slashing and killing each other, but tae do that tae innocent people, children no less, that just showed the mentality of them. There was no respect paid tae anyone or anything then. Clans just did what they wanted tae and be damned what it did tae people. Och, e’en King James could’ne control his lands then. Then ye’ve got every one else trying tae put their hat in the ring. The English wanted tae rule us, as well as the Irish. The French wanted tae ha’e an alliance wi’ us and e’en the Spanish as well.’
Sloan MacLeod slipped in the question that was puzzling them all, before Stuart responded to Claire. ‘Stuart, why did they call him Sorley Boy?’
‘Ye don’t know Sloan? I thought ye did. Boy, then, meant fair-haired, Sorley is Celtic fer Charlie. In fact, Sorley’s nickname was, ‘Yellow Haired Charlie’. And Claire, ye’re absolutely right aboot that. The whole place was lawless. I think it would take at least a month of weekends like this, tae tell the whole story. E’en what went on hundreds of years before this, is worth the telling.’ Stuart found himself feeling a good telling of the history of his clan and the others was well worth the time and money spent, to share it with all the clans and keep the history of it all alive for generations to come. ‘Okay, before we get tae intae the Irish history of it, I want tae get back tae what was happening wi’ Therese, or do ye’s care noo?’
In an instant, the calls came out to finish telling what happened to Therese, the calls made by both men and women. Tom let Deb snuggle into him again, some of the other men encouraging their wives to do the same. Stuart smiled broadly at the rapt attention and enjoyment all of it was getting. He quickly saluted his guests with his drink and took a sip, before clearing his throat and starting in.
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William worked the sail for all he could get out of it, but the speed of the lighter birlinn, also being rowed by sixteen men, was much faster. William headed across the sea towards the Mull of Kintyre, in an attempt to make land and run for it, not knowing it was Sorley’s father’s seat of power. Therese sat and watched, as the birlinn drew closer to them, the fear and dread of the unknown, worse than the reality. She clenched her fists so tight, the nails dug into her palms and caused her to bleed.
John kept watch of everything in front of them, looking to the shore for a quick place to land and get out. In his mind, he was prepared to leave Lady Therese behind and save his own life, knowing how savage the Irish MacDonnell’s were from the tales he’d heard. He looked back and saw the birlinn less than a hundred yards back and quickly looked back to shore, trying to judge the distances and their chances of making it. In his heart he held hope, in his mind, death was only minutes away.
With less than a mile to shore, the birlinn reached the galley and came broadside to it, on the starboard side, cutting off the shore from it and any further chance of escape. With ten swords at the ready and four arrows drawn and aimed, William knew his chances were over.
‘Lower yer sail, or die where ye stand.’ the command from Sorley Boy to John, definitive in its meaning.
John quickly lowered their sail and the galley slowed in speed rapidly. The MacDonnell’s lowered theirs as well and came along side. Three armed men jumped across and secured the galley with lines, holding it to the birlinn.
‘Ye three, come across.’ Sorley’s order, assisted by pointed weapons, left no room for argument.
Therese stood and was helped across by several men, while William and John were left to their own abilities to jump from one boat to the other. In moments, the sails on the galley and the birlinn were raised and both vessels plied north-west through the channelled waters, back towards the Irish coast.
‘What’s yer reason fer sailing out’ta yer lands and intae mine?’ Sorley’s question aimed at the two lieutenants.
‘We’re Scottish soldiers, on a mission fer the Earl of Huntly. We are returning tae Inverlochy Castle, from oor mission in France. We’re bringing her Ladyship tae his Lordship, as she is his betrothed.’ William’s voice was clearly showing his fears, which brought a smile to Sorley’s face.
‘Is this correct?’ he quickly snapped at John.
John’s fear was worn like a mask, his voice gone from him. He nodded fervently to acknowledge his agreement to William’s words, as he handed the letter from the Earl to
him. Sorley opened it and quickly read it.
‘Yer both Scottish soldiers, yet ye sail in an royal galley. Why’s that?’ Sorley questioned them and gave John back the letter..
‘It belongs tae his Lordship’s cousin, the D
uke of Argyll. His Lordship felt if we sailed under his colours, we would be safer from attack.’ William explained as best he could.
‘I guess his Lordship was wrong, then. I happen tae hate the royals. I hate anything tae do wi’ them. Now, here ye are in my waters, sailing an royal boat. The way I look at this then, is the Earl of Huntly is cousin wi’ the royals and they’re in wi’ the English, that makes him part English and ye two serve under him, so that makes ye English supporters. Am I wrong?’ Sorley questioned to them.
‘No, we’re not English supporters, we’re Scottish soldiers and defend fer the King of Scotland, James the sixth.’ John stated, his proclamation of their allegiance, a hope it spared their lives.
Sorley looked at them both closely and then to his men. His men gave shrugs of indifference to the statement and Sorley turned back to them.
‘So, yer Scottish soldiers are ye? Ye don’t ha’e any uniforms on. Do ye have any rank?’ Sorley wondered to them.
‘Aye, we’re both lieutenants.’ William answered, gaining further hope it would grant them fairer treatment being officers.
Sorley looked at them closer still, seemingly picturing in his mind if they were indeed lieutenants. He finished his inspection and looked thoughtful for a moment. He looked quickly at his men and then back, then gave his thoughts.
‘I believe ye’s. I think ye are lieutenants fer his Lordship, the Earl of Huntly.’ Sorley’s statement brought a relief to the two men’s faces at hearing it. ‘So tae me, I think yer worse than being English. Yer traitors tae yer own country and that’s something I loathe e’en more. We ha’e a tradition fer traitors like ye. Trial by Water. If ye are true tae Scotland, ye’ll live, if yer not, ye’ll die. That simple.’
John and William’s faces lost their relief instantly, hearing their lives were now in great peril. Quickly they were held and their hands bound together in front of them with rope. They looked at Sorley with pleading desperation for a reprieve.
‘Colla, come along side. We have a trial by water tae do.’ Sorley shouted across to his brother, sailing the galley.
Soon, both boats were knocking against one another in the waves. The men picked up John and threw him over to the others, catching him and moving him to the back of the boat. They tied the aft mooring line to his bound hands and stood him to the side facing Sorley. William was bound the same and faced John.
‘As traitors, ye’ll face yer trial and prove yer innocence of the charge. When we reach Irish waters, we’ll haul ye’s back in. If yer alive, ye’ll be taken across and set free, ye’ve proved yerselves tae be true Scots. Fer only a true Scot could live through the trial. Since ye ha’e nothing tae say, let the trial begin.’ Sorley raised his right hand and made the Sign of the Cross to them, then flicked his hand in signal, to put them in the water.
The men pushed both soldiers into the water and watched as the ropes went taut and both men we’re soon being dragged behind the boats. The water rushed over their faces and they struggled to find a way of catching a breath. The MacDonnell’s watched them for a minute and then turned their attention to the beautiful, French Lady sitting very quietly in front of them.
‘Noo yer Ladyship, let’s hear yer story. Why are ye joining with filth, like that of the Earl of Huntly?’ Sorley asked her in a very pleasant manner.
Therese sat stoic, paralysed with mortal fear at saying anything to condemn herself to death. She tried to look at Sorley’s face, but the fear wouldn’t let her.
‘Are ye afraid we’re going tae put ye tae trial as well? Is that it?’ Sorley asked, even softer in tone.
Therese found the courage to finally look into Sorley’s deep, blue eyes and saw a glint of compassion in them. It gave her the strength to nod her head, that she felt that was what was going to happen.
‘Fear not M’Lady, we’re not the savages ye think we are. We don’t put Ladies tae death. If anything, the most we’ll do is ask fer a ransom tae buy ye back, but ye’ll no be harmed in any way. Unlike the English, we do ha’e some respect fer people. Am I right men?’ Sorley asked for agreement to his words.
The men all agreed with an, ‘Aye,’ and Therese felt a calming ease wash over her, that she would not only have her life spared, but be spared any indignities as well.
‘So, M’Lady, what are ye doing marrying the likes of his Lordship?’ Sorely softly asked
her again.
‘I…I..don’t want to marry his Lordship. I was kidnapped by those men and being brought back to the Earl. He would have to lie to the priest to have me as his wife. My heart belongs to a Scottish Laird, but it is not the Earl of Huntly.’ Therese proclaimed with more and more strength in her voice has she spoke, seeing the wind-swept blonde hair of Sorley covering and un-covering his face and the friendly set of it.
‘Ye were kidnapped, by those two?’ Sorley asked, nodding his head back in the direction of the men in the water.
‘Yes. I left Scotland a little more than a month ago and returned to France, to my chateau and estate. It was just proclaimed mine by the King of France, Henri the third. I am Lady Therese deMornay de Trecesson. I was out riding through the vineyards and was taken by force by them. They clubbed me over the head and made me unconscious, then took me to the coast and sailed to here. I do not like the Earl, I loathe him.’ Therese felt the relief at saying what her heart had held in check, since her ordeal started.
Tears started to fall from her eyes and she reached for her small satchel, tied to the belt of her riding dress. She opened it and took out a small lace-edged handkerchief with her initials on it. The lace took hold of the rough edges of the amulet and pulled it out as well. It fell to the bottom of the boat and Sorley stooped to pick it up before Therese could react. He looked it over and turned it around in his hand. A realization of what it was, struck him immediately.
‘This stone is the Luck of Dunvegan. It belongs tae the Chief of the Clan MacLeod and only he has possession of it. How do ye come tae have it in yer possession, Lady Therese?’ Sorley’s question was asked, in total disbelief of what he was holding in his hand.
Therese tentatively held her hand out to him, asking him with her eyes to return it to her. Sorley looked at her and slowly put it back in her hand. Therese put it in her satchel and tied it shut again. She looked at Sorley once more and found her love for Garreth, as her strength to speak.
‘Laird Garreth MacLeod, is the one I wish to be betrothed to. He carries my cross around his neck in remembrance of our love. When he comes to France to marry me, we will give them back to each other. That cross he wears, is the only thing I have in memory of my father and this, is his only memory of his father. His friend, Laird Grayson MacDonald can attest to what I say, as well.’ Therese proclaimed it with as much assurance from the feelings in her heart, to have them believe her.
‘I know his Lairdship, Garreth. I met him once as a boy, when his father came tae see
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mine. The MacDonald’s and the MacLeod’s ha’e always been friends and allies, fer as long as I can remember.’ Sorley’s reply confirming the authenticity of Therese’s statement.
‘You are a MacDonald? Are you a relative of Lady Arabella of Castle Tioram?’ Therese’s questions being fired, by her strong desire to see her again.
‘No, I’m a MacDonnell, a distant relation tae them. Ye know Lady Arabella MacDonald as well?’ Sorley asked in wonderment, that she knew of his kin and allies.
‘She is like a sister to me. We met at the Cathederale de St. Pierre in Rennes, where we studied. I have hoped with all my heart, that I would see her again. The other laird, Laird Grayson MacDonald, the Earl said they were not of a relation to each other. Is he related to you?’
‘I know he’s Arabella’s brother
. And the Earl lied tae ye, that they’re not? I wonder why he did that?’ Sorley found it puzzling, why the Earl would lie about it.
‘Can you take me to Tioram, so that I may be with her? I beg you to allow me that kindness. I do not know where the castle is and have no way to get there, but I would be eternally grateful to you for your aid.’ Therese now pled with all her heart, that she would at last find her friend, Arabella.
‘Aye, I can take ye there. We just need tae take care of these tae behind us first.’ Sorley smiled at her, assuring her, her most heart-felt wish would come true. ‘Colla, haul that one in. Let’s see if he’s a true Scot. Randal, haul this one in and see if he is tae.’ Sorley told his brother and son.
Several men pulled hard on each of the ropes, slowly pulling the soldiers closer to the boats. Soon hands were pulling them back in and laid them on the decking. John coughed and gasped hard, salt water spraying out from his lungs. William was still alive, but close to being unconscious. They checked to see if he was alive and Randal gave a nod to Sorley that he was.
The two boats made for the coast of Ireland, a few miles away and Dunluce Castle, perched on the rocky cliff-face. They made the coast shortly and let the birlinn and galley slide up the gravelled shore. The men jumped out and pulled both up further. Lady Therese was helped by Sorley and two men on shore, to alight from the boat and touch Irish soil for the first time. She looked about at the brilliant, green of the land and breathed in the sweet smelling air. Once again, her freedom had a smell to it, that she would remember always.
John and William were dropped on to the ground and fell. The men picked them up and held them, as they knelt on the ground. The need for strength to hold them not needed, as both were weak from their ordeal and still coughing hard, to expel the water in their lungs.
‘Well, I see ye’s proved yerselves tae be Scots. I’m happy tae see that.’ Sorley said to them both.
John and William weakly lifted their heads to him and a wan smile of victory came over their faces. Sorley had Colla and Randal lead Lady Therese up to the castle, to not only allow her to wash and clean herself and have some food and drink, but to be spared witnessing what came next. Once she was out of earshot, Sorley turned back to the kneeling men.
‘I was going tae let ye’s go, I was. But ye’ve treated a Lady in a very un-gentlemanly fashion, so ye have. Ye’s not only kidnapped her, but ye beat her on the head tae. Which one of ye’s did that?’ Sorley asked, looking back and forth between them.
‘It was William who hit her. I told him he shouldn’t ha’e done it.’ John proclaimed, hoping his innocence spared him.
William looked at John with hatred for saying it, but it changed to a look of dread, as he looked back into the vicious eyes of Sorley.
‘Then ye’ll be last then. Ye’ll get tae know what’s going tae happen tae ye. I hope both yer souls are taken by Lucifer and serve him in eternity. Men, tie this one tae the Rock of Judgement and make this one watch.’ Sorley ordered, pointing at John, then to William.
The men picked up John and dragged him along the coast a short ways. A large, flat stone lay at the water’s edge and John was laid down face up. His feet were bound together and a Claymore thrust between them, pinning them in place. Another sword was thrust into the ground pinning his arms straight back. Other men had brought William and forced him to stand and look at him.
‘But we passed yer Trial of Water, why aren’t we being freed?’ John pled for his life.
‘Aye, ye did pass the trial, so ye did. This punishment is fer what ye’ve done tae a Lady. To tell the truth, e’en though yer Scots, I don’t like ye’s. Yer no the type of men that should be walking up here wi’ good men. Ye belong down below wi’ Lucifer and his lot in Hell’ Sorley told him, standing above him.
Sorley turned to William, letting him know he was joining his partner soon, with the detestable look he gave him. William’s head bowed and Sorley let go a vicious back-hand slap across his face. Blood flew from the splitting skin of his lips, then Sorley grabbed him hard by his hair.
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