Blood of the Clans Ch. 02

"Excuse me, but why did the road we were on have so many names? From the airport to here, it changed at least five times in what, three miles?"

Dennis and the cabbie laughed, then the cabbie replied that it all mattered what part of town you were in and it actually helped know the area better. He couldn't help but add to the confusion and told him it was also called the A79. Tom just had to laugh at it and let it go and made no sense of it.

They hadn't travelled very far and were coming to a bridge spanning River Ayr. Dennis gave directions to the cabbie where to park and as soon as they crossed it, they turned right and went along the road a short way, until they were beside the yacht. Dennis paid for the cab and helped Deb with her bags, as they boarded the yacht. The cabbie said goodbye and wished them a good holiday, before beeping his horn and doing a U turn and waving out the window.The two, young crew members untied the lines once the motors started up and in moments, they were out of the River Ayr and into open waters, as Dennis wound up the twin diesel engines to top cruising speed.

Tom and Deb sat on the deck chairs, feeling the cool, sea air and smelling the freshness of it, as they watched the scenery pass by them. Deb quickly opened her camera bag and began documenting their trip, with the coast of the Isle of Arran, which held her interest first, until she turned and the mounding peak of Ailsa Craig was looming out of the waters to the south. The coast of Kintyre and the tiny island of Sanda came next, garnering a dozen photos each.

"Better save some of those memory cards, Deb. There's a week of vacation to go and I don't know if we'll be able to get extras." Tom warned her.

Deb laughed at his warning, as she continued to click away at sea birds coming close to them.

"I can take a million photos, Tom and never run out. I have my Notebook remember, so I can download the pics I take and empty the cards at night."

"Brains to go with all that beauty and sexy as hell too. How could I ask for more?" he told her smiling and leaned over to kiss her.

The two hundred and thirty mile trip was relaxing, as Dennis McKaig sailed north to the Isle of Skye, the large yacht sailing smoothly through the choppy waves, making it as pleasing a trip as any could take. As the couple looked at the islands and coastline, they never realized they were sailing through the same waters their ancestors had done centuries before. They had no idea of the blood that once coloured them red either.

The winds blew briskly off Dunvegan Bay, catching the brightly, coloured kites and making them soar. The pale, blue sky was dotted with the colourful specks, as the children watched them climb higher and higher. Dunvegan Castle was alive with the merriment of the re-union, the children playing games about the grounds and the adults gathered in the

courtyard, re-acquainting with friends and family members.

The motor yacht docked at the long pier and the couple disembarked with their luggage. Dennis shook hands with them, before casting off and pulling away again, sailing back up the bay. Tom was the only child of the late, Hugh William MacLeod, who was Stuart Alistair MacLeod's younger brother, so he was taken care of by Stuart, along with a trust fund through the Clan, providing him with a good income, along with his business income.

He stood with his fiancee, Debra, who was still looking in awe at the spectacle of the castle perched high, overlooking the bay and the surrounding lands and felt the flutters of nervousness hit his stomach. He hoped silently in his heart, that his uncle would like Debra. To Tom, Stuart MacLeod was more than just the Chief of the Clan MacLeod, he was as close as a father to him, as his own was. He broke away from his thoughts and looked with Deb as she took pictures, the light and shadows washing over the grey-brown shistz blocks of the castle. Multiple hues blended on the walls, further intimidating her to its majestic glory, as the whirring continued from her camera, picture after picture capturing the scene.

Several servants quickly made their way down the sea-wall passage from the grounds, to collect their luggage and escort them to the castle grounds. An elderly man, followed and made sure the staff knew the proper rooms to take the bags to and prepare them for the couple. He turned to the new arrivals, his face full of joy.

"Welcome back tae Dunvegan Castle, Master Thomas. And who ha'e ye brought wi' ye?" the smiling face of Gordon Foster beamed at him and then to the lady with Tom, bowing to them properly.

"Good to see you again, Gordon," taking his hand in friendship, endearing him more to the elderly man. "I see you've kept well since we last met. Gordon, it is my pleasure to introduce you to, Miss Debra McRae, soon to be, Mrs. Debra MacLeod, as we just got engaged. Debra, this is Gordon, our head of service for the castle." Tom beamed with pride at introducing her.

Gordon's face took a quick turn to one of surprise on hearing her surname, but turned it back just as quick, as he greeted her.

"It is indeed a pleasure M'Lady, tae ha'e ye at Dunvegan. Congratulations tae ye both. I do hope ye enjoy yer stay." he said with a bow of respect, then rose and looked quickly at Tom with a shadow of worry in his eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Gordon." Debra replied and caught the subtle change of expression in Gordon's eyes.

The trip up to the castle grounds was thick with things unsaid as Gordon led them, the walk becoming long and tiring, climbing the many steps to the castle courtyard in silence. As if knowing, Gordon turned his head back as they walked.

"Yer looking well, Master Thomas. Seems the air in Canada agrees wi' ye. Almost as good as the sweet breath ye take here." Tom knew Gordon was making small conversation with them, hiding his true feelings behind a mask of dutiful respect.

"Nothing is as sweet as the highland air here, Gordon. I wish I could bottle it and take it home with me."

"The climb is'ne bothering ye tae much, is it Miss McRae?" Gordon asked her politely.

"Not at all Gordon, it's nice to stretch a bit after the flight over and the sail up to here." she replied, as she held Tom's hand tightly, climbing the ancient steps to the castle grounds.

Passing through the arched entrance, Debra looked in awe at the impressive sight of seeing and being in a castle. Having grown up in Toronto, where only skyscrapers and the CN Tower held sway over the skyline, and Casa Loma being the closest thing to a real

castle, this sight had her heart racing with romantic notions and a feeling of being regal.

Gordon led them to where Stuart MacLeod was standing with other members of the clan, as well as those of the MacDonald's. Stuart turned to see the couple coming to him and a wide smile came across his face.

"Tom, it does my heart good tae see ye ag'in, Lad. And who's this bonnie wee Lass ye ha'e wi' ye?" Stuart took Tom's hand and shook it, then pulled him into a welcoming hug. He released him and looked at Debra, standing in mild embarrassment at the affections shown.

"Uncle Stuart, this is my fiancee, Debra McRae. Debra, this is my uncle, Stuart MacLeod." Stuart's face shifted slightly at hearing her surname, but recovered and smiled, taking her hand gently and welcoming her.

"A great pleasure tae meet ye, Debra. And no worries, we won't hold it against ye, fer being a MacRae." Stuart laughed heartily, as did the others around them.

"A pleasure to meet you too, Sir." Debra said in as respectful a manner as she could, making it appear that Stuart was of a royal level. "But why would you hold it against me for being a MacRae? I don't understand, is it a local joke?" she questioned and looked around at the faces, to see if it was indeed a joke.

"Och, it was a wee tease and I do apologize, it was'ne called fer. But please, call me Uncle Stuart." Stuart admitted and bowed his head to Deb, who still wasn't sure of the nature of the joke, but smiled and told him, "It's okay, Uncle Stuart, I don't know much about my clan name or my ancestors, so the joke is lost on me, I'm afraid." Deb said smiling.

They passed a look of understanding between them, Stuart acknowledging to Deb, that he was sorry, as well as welcoming her. Deb smiled back in comfort, but began to wonder what her clan had done.

Tom introduced Debra to the other members of his clan and those of the Clan MacDonald around them, before he excused them to go into the castle to unpack and freshen up after the long trip across and then to the castle. Tom knew that Gordon had given them separate rooms and moved Deb's luggage into his room and closed the door. They smiled at what they were doing and hoped Stuart didn't mind them staying in the same room now that he knew they were engaged. While alone in their room, Debra turned to Tom and asked the question burning in her mind.

"Tom, what did he mean, 'We won't hold it against you'." her face looking worried, that she was somehow blackened by something unknown.

"Ah, that. I take it you don't know what happened here about four hundred and twenty years ago?" he asked, knowing already she didn't.

"I really don't know much about my name or history, like I told you, except my ancestors were from around here somewhere." her face showing concern about what Tom knew.

"Hmmm, where to begin? Well, maybe Uncle Stuart can explain it to you better, but it seems your clan and mine have had a few difficulties getting along. We traded a few words and a few blades along the way, ending up with a bit of feuding between us. Kind of like a Hatfield and McCoy kind of thing." Tom smiled as he told her jokingly, trying to difuse her concerns, but saw it only heightened her worried look.

"You mean I'm not really welcome here? Because of something that happened hundreds of years ago? Oh Tom, I don't want to stay here if everyone is going to hate me." Debra's face took on one of distress, as she imagined what everyone thought of her.

"Awww, Sweetheart, don't think things like that. It happened a long time ago and we don't feud anymore. I know for a fact, Uncle Stuart has met with the McRae's and we've made

peace with them. The MacDonald's have as well. You have nothing to worry about, honestly. You'll be treated very well by everyone, I promise." As much as he tried to assuage her doubts, her face belied her true feelings, that she was apprehensive about staying here for a week.

After unpacking and freshening themselves, they strolled through the castle, looking at shields and swords, hung prominently on the stone walls. Crests and tapestries adorned more of the centuries old castle, the sight of all the heraldry overwhelming Debra in the scope of its history. On an antique, intricately carved, oak podium, a decree sat under a glass pane protecting it. Debra tried to read it, but didn't understand the language well enough to make out what it said.

Tom stood beside her and related the content of it to her. Her face turned to him in shock, as he told her it was a decree by King James VI, allowing lands held by the MacRae's, to be governed by the MacLeod's. Debra took hold of Tom's arm and held him with a pleading look in her eyes.

"What did my people do? Why were their lands governed by your clan?" her questions giving him trouble to fully explain what happened.

"I think we need to talk with my uncle about it. I don't know enough myself, to explain why it happened." he tried to ease the situation into one where she was more at ease, but could see her trepidations rising the more he did. "C'mon, let's see my Uncle and the others and enjoy ourselves. Try not to let all this bother you, okay Babe? Let's just enjoy the time here and get to know my family and clan. That's why we came, remember?" Tom took her hand and led her out to the courtyard, where over a hundred people were gathered, feeling like she was an outsider among unfriendly people.

The grounds were immaculate and well appointed with statues of past Chiefs and symbolic pieces. The sun was glinting off them and making them appear even more imposing in their stature. Debra heard the thick brogues, as everyone spoke and enjoyed the tones of them, but held onto Tom closely, feeling he was her only comfort among them. The kites were no longer flying and the children were now holding glasses of ginger ale, while the adults held glasses of golden liquid.

Tom saw his uncle on a podium and directed their path towards him. Stuart was holding up a glass, glinting in the late day sun, while others were holding similar glasses and looking at him. Gordon made his way over with two glasses for Tom and Debra and handed them to them, as Stuart began to speak.

"Welcome MacLeod's and MacDonald's, tae another meeting of two great clans. It is always my honour and privilege tae be the one tae host this gathering. We've shared many trials t'gether and many battles and I can say wi'out question, neither of our clans would be here t'day if we had'ne joined t'gether so long ago. I wish fer us tae pay tribute now tae our elders, those who made the sacrifices and paid the price fer us tae stand here t'day in peaceful celebration. So I'll ask ye's now tae all raise yer glasses, e'en ye wee yuns, tae pay our respects tae those who ha'e past before us, gi'en their lives and all that was good in them, so that we may stand here t'day, as one." his words echoed around the walls of the courtyard, giving more resonance to his strong voice.

Stuart raised his glass high, the sparkle of sunlight dancing in the liquid, bringing life to it. The others all raised their glasses to his and as one, they chanted out the clan oath,

"Hold Fast," and after a small drink, raised them again and hailed the MacDonald oath of

"My Hope Is Constant In Thee", whereby everyone drank the remains and shouted "Dram Bu' Idich." (the drink that satisfies)

Servants went about collecting glasses from everyone and as they came for Debra's, she was looking at the glass and deciding on the taste in her mouth. Debra shook her head as

the taste of the liqueur coated her mouth, then left an instant burning down her throat all the way to her stomach. She held the tartan ringed glass in her hand and looked at Tom with a displeased expression, before handing it to the servant, who noted her with a knowing smile, that she wasn't used to such strong drink.

"What was that stuff?" she asked Tom quietly, trying hard not to show her displeasure and offend anyone.

"Laoch Deoch a MacLeod, it's sort of like Drambuie, but stronger. Didn't like it? It's the clan drink, originally made by us, now made for us, by a local distillery called Talisker. It means, 'the Warrior Drink of the MacLeod's."

He could see it on her face, without her saying it, that this was totally different than the Cosmos and JaegerBombs she was used to back in the clubs of Toronto. He smiled and hugged her to him and gently laughed.

"I guess there's a lot of things you haven't heard of, or tried. Oh no, I can't wait to see your face when we pipe in the Haggis. Honestly, it's pretty good, believe me, it is. Kind of like ...like nothing you've ever had. Your mom and dad told me you never ate it when they did, so now you'll get a chance at last." and then laughed harder.

Debra could see he was trying to make her smile and not take everything so seriously. She still felt out of place there, but decided to do her best to enjoy everything.

"Well, now that the burning part is gone, it does taste pretty good. I never had haggis before, because... I don't know if I want to try eating it, I mean, sheep's inside things stuffed in a stomach? I don't know, do I have to? And do you really pipe in the thing?" her expression one of slight disbelief and discomfort at the thought.

"For sure. Gordon wheels it out and my Uncle Malcolm plays the pipes, as that's what he does. Every time he plays something different. He used to be in the Blackwatch Pipes and Drums and used do all that precision marching and playing. A long time ago, we had our own pipers, the McCrimmon Pipers. We passed their memorial on the way into the bay."

"You have such an amazing family, Tom. I really do hope they like me. I want nothing more than to be with you and be a part of your family." Debra's eyes and touch saying far more to him than her words, as she stood in front of him, looking into his eyes and held him close.

"Don't worry Deb, they will. You're an amazing person yourself, you know so. You'll feel like you're one of us in no time." Tom looked deep into her eyes as he spoke and then wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her in tighter to him.

Her smile assured him she would be okay with everything and he kissed her lightly on the lips. Just as they finished, a shadow crossed their faces and they turned towards it. A large, burly man with bright, red hair and beard stood with the sun behind him, making him appear God-like in appearance.

"Uncle Tav!!!" Tom showed an instant affection for the man and shook his hand vigorously. With an ease of his strength, Tavish pulled Tom into a bear hug, then released him, only to ruffle his hair like a young boy. Tom showed a slight embarrassment at the treatment and fixed his hair, but returned quickly to his exuberance of seeing his uncle.

"How are ye, Tommy Boy? It's good tae see ye, Lad. Yer lookin' more a man every time I see ye, so ye are. And who's this wee beauty yer holding on tae so tightly?" Tavish's face turned towards Debra and gave her a wide grin and a wink of his bright, blue eyes.

Debra flushed at the attention and praise, as Tom introduced her. "Uncle Tavish, this is my fiancee, Debra McRae. Deb, this is my uncle, Tavish MacDonald. Well, not my real uncle, but might as well be." Tom added, as he looked at Tavish and smiled.

"It's a great pleasure tae meet ye Debra. A McRae? Ye led a lamb tae slaughter did ye, Tom?" Tavish said laughing, as he turned to Tom and winked.

Tom smiled and looked at Debra, who was looking worried at having the past brought up again. He hugged her and laughed, then told her, "It's okay, he was joking. I guess we better find Uncle Stuart and how about you too, Uncle Tavish? I want to let Debra know what the whole story is about our clans and the MacRae's. Would you like to do that for me, Uncle Tav?" he asked with a questioned plea for help.

"Aye, of course I'll tell our wee Lassie know all about the heathen buggers her ancestors were. Come wi' yer Uncle Tav, Hen and ye'll know all about it then." Tavish took Debra's hand to his elbow in gentlemanly fashion and led her over to Stuart, who was laughing heartily with several other men, all dressed in the MacLeod tartans. One was wearing the bright yellow and black striped tartan.

"Taylor MacLeod, look at you, all gussied in yer Loud MacLeod. How did yer trip turn out? I see they did'ne throw yer arse in jail, so it must'ae bin no bad." Tavish blurted out as he approached.

"Tavish!! Not ye? Stuart, what are ye letting the likes of him come fer? Are ye trying tae put us out?" Taylor retorted in mock disgust, then welcomed him properly with a hug and a smile best reserved for close family.

"Always does ma' heart proud tae see ye cousin." Tavish said more sincerely and heartfelt, with a deep respect for their kinship.

"My heart as well, Tavish. The trip was grand, so it was, thanks fer askin'. And who's this fetching beauty ye have on yer arm?" Taylor returned with an affection and an interest.

"Taylor, it is indeed my pleasure tae introduce ye tae Miss Debra McRae, the future niece of Stuart and betrothed tae this lot behind me." Tavish said, ribbing Tom, "Ye remember Taylor, don't ye, Tom? He's no that far from where ye live." Tavish said, looking back over his shoulder to Tom.