Blood of the Clans Ch. 25

James MacRae rode into Inverlochy with the Earl's captain and dismounted at the front of the main building. They were immediately ushered in by the guards to see the Earl. James walked in and saw his sons and nephews sitting and standing around the Earl's desk, enjoying a drink with him.

"Boys, it's good tae see ye's free again. My thanks tae ye Douglas. I knew ye'd keep them from the Gallows Pole." his face clearly showing the happiness of relief.

"I have my ways of dealing with things, James, you know that." Douglas smiled at him, enjoying his sherry.

James came to the desk and hugged his kin, then sat down in front of it, accepting a glass of whisky from the guard. He saluted Douglas, who returned the salute and they drank together.

"Lads, bugger off home noo. The Earl and I ha'e business tae attend tae. I'll see ye's back at the village later on. The men'll be glad tae see ye's." James told them, still smiling happily at them.

The sons and nephews bowed to the Earl and then to James, before leaving and whooping and hollering their way out of the office. Once the peaceful quiet settled again, James turned back to the Earl with a more serious intent on his face.

"We ha'e oor army, Douglas. The MacDougall's, the Douglas', the MacLean's and the Fraser's, ha'e all agreed tae join me. Wi' my men, that makes oor numbers at o'er eight hundred. Join that wi' the men ye ha'e and the ones yer cousin is supposed tae send and that will be more than enough tae take Donan back, as well as wipe they bastard MacDonald's oot and take Tioram and Camus. We ha'e enough birlinn tae sail men as well. They went oot and got five, but we lost a few men trying tae get another. Douglas lost his tae sons and nephews, when they tried tae take it."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but those are the risks one must take when stealing another's birlinns. I have word from my brother Thomas and he will be sending one hundred cavalry and one hundred soldiers, along with cannons and a frigate with one hundred more soldiers aboard, so I'm sure we'll have more than enough men and armament to deal with the clans and dispatch them easily." Douglas told him, a smile of triumphant glee spreading on his face.

James turned to the guard and pointed to his glass for more whisky, before turning back to Douglas. He looked at the petite man and smiled broadly.

"I'll ha'e my castle Douglas. I'm not letting those bastards take it away from me again. If oor plan works oot, we'll be able tae drive oot they MacDonald's from the area and take control of the lands and waters they ha'e noo. The clans I'm bringing wi' me ha'e sworn an allegiance tae me, so they'll be under me and my control."

Douglas was still smiling, but the look in his eyes was saying he was in objection to what James had said.

"You will have your castle James, and the clans can hold an allegiance to you, but make no mistake, I have control. I represent the King and will make the decisions that affect the lands under my jurisdiction. Are we in an agreement with that, James?"

James' smile dwindled down to one of submitted accord and nodded.

"Aye, Douglas. You'll ha'e the control, but I'll ha'e the power. The power tae make the MacRae's the most powerful clan in the Highlands. T'gether we can rule long and well. There'll no be another clan tae oppose us. If they do, we'll wipe them oot and take the castle and lands and gi' it tae one of oors tae rule from."

"I can see that we do have an understanding, a good one. It will be in both our best interests, if we keep that in mind. I have my own ambitions, James. I want to be considered for more, than just being an Earl. When the King sees how I have claimed lands and castles in his name, he will afford me a greater position in his court. To make sure of that, I have other things in play to guarantee me that." Douglas offered, alluding to something that James had no idea about.

For all that Douglas Wallace was meek and ineffectual looking, James knew he held more power than the Earl let on that he did. They held a moment of confirmation between them, their eyes telling each other who led and who followed.

"Now, let's go over how many men you have and where we can use them most effectually. Planning this out this time, will take much more strategic placement of them, than marching in mass and having you get ambushed again." Douglas told James, taking his control over everything and letting James know he was the commander.

Douglas took out a map of the area around Eilean Donan, as well as the lochs that led to it. They looked at it carefully and started positioning men in places to attack from. Both James and Douglas had broad smiles on their faces as they planned the attack.

Harlan Douglas sat in his camp, still grieving over the loss of his sons and nephews. He had prepared himself for trouble happening, but not the loss of every one of them. An unknown rider on horseback approached the camp and his men quickly surrounded him and questioned him why he was there.

When the rider showed them a piece of black and grey tartan that belonged to one of the boys, he and several others had found, they walked him to Harlan and had him explain what they found. The man stood without fear or trepidation, as he started re-telling Harlan why he had come.

"Douglas, I'm a fisherman, doon the coast on Seil. Three days past, oor nets caught hold of three bodies. They were in a very, bad state, but we saw their kilts and knew the tartan was yer's. We figured at first they'd had a problem in their boat and drooned, but we noticed they all had their feet tied. They've been buried near my village, at oor cemetery, but I came tae let ye know what we foond." he told him, as matter of factly as he could.

"What's yer name fisherman?" Harlan asked him, looking at the section of tartan being held out to him and took it.

"Eamon McGregor." he told him straightforward.

"And ye say ye found them where, McGregor?" Harlan asked, trying to piece together the night of birlinn raiding, as Sloan Fraser had described to him.

He remembered where the last birlinn was to be taken from and it was the same island. His suspicions rose, as he listened to him.

"Off the coast of Luing, a day's ride from here." Eamon told him, pointing back in the direction he'd come from.

"I ha'e a question I need ye tae answer. Think carefully, before ye do. Was there any arras in them?" Harlan's question was said in earnest, but a hint of rage was settling in behind it.

"Arras? No, there were'ne any arras stuck in them, no even any other cuts or marks. Just their feet tied. We thought that tae be strange and no a mishap on the sea. So it was agreed tae ha'e me come and let ye's know what we foond." Eamon's words were said instantly, in surety.

"Ye've done me a great service, Eamon. More than ye know. Go wi' my men and they'll see tae ye getting food and drink and a place tae sleep fer the night. Before ye leave, I want directions tae yer village and where ye buried the bodies." Harlan told him, the rage clearer and ready to let go, but held back from being directed at Eamon.

Eamon went with the men and was given a bowl of stew and a cup of ale, along with a large chunk of bread. He sat with them and talked of what he saw and where he fished.

Eamon was quite happy to have the company after a long ride alone, when his travelling companion broke off and travelled further north to see his cousin.

Harlan had his captain and his two lieutenants join him for a walk. He held the swatch of ragged cloth in his hands, putting the two stories together in his mind.

"Kenneth, what do ye make of Eamon's story? Do ye think he could be lying?" Harlan asked him, looking back at Eamon eating with his men, his mind confused with loss and rage.

"I don't think so, Harlan. Why would he ride fer a day, just tae lie tae us? And why were their feet tied? Fraser told us that the lads were attacked wi' arras, by the clan they tried tae take the birlinn from, and no arras were seen." Kenneth replied, he himself trying to make sense of both accounts.

"I'm starting tae think Sloan Fraser is a bloody liar. His story of hoo things happened, just sounds wrong in my mind, it always has, e'er since he told me it. I'm starting tae get a different picture of hoo things happened that night and I don'ne like what I see in my head." Harlan's dark, grey eyes started flaring out the rage, as he spoke.

Kenneth saw it and his thoughts meshed with Harlan's. Soon the two lieutenants realized the erroneous nature of Fraser's story as well. All the men stopped and looked at one another in raged thought. Harlan cursed through his teeth, as he spoke out his anger.

"Those Fraser's ha'e done this, I don't know hoo, but I feel it in my bones. They killed my boys."

Kenneth answered to him first, with his thoughts.

"If they did'ne get killed wi' arras, and their feet were tied, it had tae been them that done it. They must'ae stole the birlinns first and waited till they were away, before they killed them and bound their feet. But why tie their feet? It does'ne make sense, does it?"

"No, Kenneth, it does'ne. But if the Fraser's ha'e done it, it was something they did against MacRae's orders. And those orders were clear, they were'ne tae touch another one of his men, or they'd ha'e tae deal wi' him. Ye'll come wi' me the morrow and see James MacRae aboot this. We'll bring Eamon wi' us too, just tae make sure he knows it right. Mark my words, men. Sloan Fraser and his clan will no be alive, once MacRae and the other clans deal wi' this."

The look of vengeance roared among the men. Harlan looked at them all, a show of accord in their eyes, that they wanted to see justice for the deaths of the five boys. It was Harlan's cousin, Killian, who asked his observation of the events.

"Harlan, they only foond three bodies, what do ye think happened tae the other two? And who were the boys they buried?"

Harlan's rage blurred, as he thought of Killian's question. Which three were found and which two were missing? As the answer came to him, so did the dread of knowing it. He had to go with Eamon and dig up his boys, to know who they were. The four turned back to the camp, the repercussions solidifying in their minds, what lay in store for the Fraser's and what lay in store for them in Seil.

Castle Stalker was quiet, still in mourning for Cameron Stewart. A low fire burned in the chieftain's chambers, as Braedon Stewart sat looking forlornly out the window, his son's wooden sword laying in his lap. He thought back to seeing him practice with it against his brothers, right outside this very window.

He remembered how his talent at manoeuvres and attacks was unmatched by anyone his age, or some of the older ones. He held it in his hand and made a few swings with it, thinking of what it meant to Cameron, to take his place at his side and use a real sword. He knew in his heart Cameron had great bravery and felt he was ready to stand at his side in battle. But it was a battle he himself wanted to lead and show him the right way to attack and why orders are given for a reason.

He held it gently in his hands and shed tears onto it, knowing he couldn't have asked more of a son. His pride in him grew, knowing his son was showing that bravery, even against all orders, he wanted to prove himself a man. He felt more pride swell in himself for Cameron, knowing his actions were done in the name of Stewart and the bravery to face danger and even death. But no matter of the bravery shown, the loss of so many men from his son's decision to sail, also weighed hard on his heart.

How could he face Arabella, knowing his son had cost the lives of so many of her clansmen? He had offered his alliance and failed them, lessening their chances in winning. What good was he to them, if they lost more men to a mistake, than men dying in combat. He looked once again at the sword and felt himself wanting to cry, in his heart, not sure if it was grief, or if it was shame. As he sat wreaking havoc on his heart, a rider approached the castle with news. Something that would be of great interest to him, in the days to come.

While Stalker remained hushed in silence, plans were being made to take it over by the Fraser clan. Sloan and Blain had reconnoitred the area well, looking at the times the tides were right for close attack by their new birlinns. They looked at the land bridge and when it offered the earliest time to approach from there.

They sat in their camp, the numbers of their men being divided into sea and land troops, best utilizing their chances for success. It was their initial hope they could avoid an actual battle and have the Stewart's submit to a show of force. If they didn't, they were ready to make them submit, or die if necessary.

Dunollie had become a foregone conclusion for them to take easily. They knew Andrew MacDougall was sending the majority of his men into battle. His defence against attack was extremely weak, thinking he wouldn't come under attack, while he was raiding the castles in succession. Never did he suspect an attack from them.

One hundred and fifty miles away, Douglas Wallace's half brother, Thomas, watched the procession from the rampart walls of Carlise, of two, thirty two pound cannons being drawn by large, draught horses, a hundred mounted cavalry, which led another hundred soldiers on foot, two platoons of Pioneers and finally followed by more carts of supplies. He wanted a piece of what his cousin was hoping to get and felt he deserved a very large piece. He went to the far, west side and looked towards Solway Bay, the furled sails of the frigate HMS Justice in port, would soon be set, along with one hundred and fifty more men aboard. It was being readied to sail out of the harbour towards a rendezvous on the Island of Tiree. The chosen place was on the northern coast, a secluded harbour awaiting them and the company of allies.

It was only thirty miles from that point to Tioram, a fast sail in with the ocean breeze and currents. In just more than a month's time, everything would be in position to take the castle and then take the lesser defended Camus. Andrew MacDougall already knew the plan and when he had to have all the birlinns massed for an attack. Iain MacLean sat with him and heard the plans, how he and his clansmen would be meeting with the English and then making for the shores of Moidart and use cannon fire to blow open the gates . He was already thinking of how he would rule from his new castle.

In France, the deputy sheriff had rode through the night as ordered and made the Sheriff's office in Rennes, in the early morning hours. He was greeted with a surly scowl for the disruption to Moreau's rest, but it changed rapidly to great concern, once he read the letter and heard the story from the deputy. In minutes, he had left to get dressed and shortly after, both he and the deputy were riding to Paris to inform the King.

They were presented to him in quick fashion, the kidnapping of a recently appointed Lady of title, becoming a grave matter of concern. Once the details of Scottish men kidnapping her while using an royal galley, brought this to an international level. He called in advisers and his military leaders and discussed ways of getting her back, hopefully without starting an incident that would start a conflict with England, or Scotland. The inroads to making ties with both countries was tentative at best and much desired.

It was decided to send three war ships to Scotland and with a show of force, have Lady Therese returned to the shores of France, hopefully without incident. If a conflict broke out, Henri knew of allies in Scotland and England he could rely on for support. It was his hopes King James would comply and not side with the Earl of Huntly in his actions. It was his hopes too, the English queen, Elizabeth, had no part in it either.

The sheriff returned with the deputy to Rennes two days later and sent a dispatch with him to his local sheriff, explaining the actions to be taken. The deputy would also be riding to Trecesson and informing Giles of what was happening and the steps being taken to bring about the return of her Ladyship to Trecesson once more. After he left, Ormand Moreau sat and pondered the prior events of Therese's life and the trials and tribulations such a young woman had had to face. He made a silent pledge to himself to have her guarded from any further turmoil to her life, his hope that she would one day know a peace in it.