Blood of the Clans Ch. 31

Slowly the men closed in around the Fraser clan, concentrating them into a smaller area. No shots were fired or lives taken, as the combined troops pushed them closer together. When the force had surrounded the clan, there were over three hundred men, armed and threatening the one hundred plus Fraser's. Men who just recently were sharing ales and laughter, were holding them at the points of swords and arrows. The Fraser's lowered their weapons, knowing they were vastly out-numbered, not knowing they were giving their lives away by doing it.

Manus Fraser faced off against James MacRae when he walked up. He stood in front of MacRae and looked at him with a mix of shock and outrage, with an underlying bed of fear roiling in the pit of his stomach.

"What are ye doing, MacRae? Why are ye holding us like this?" he asked him, the anger rising in his voice.

"Where's Sloan and the other men that sailed wi' us the other night? I need tae talk wi' them." MacRae answered back, his order returned with equal anger showing in his eyes and on his face.

"They're away. They left yesterday and we don'ne know when they'll be back." Manus replied, not releasing the whereabouts in detail.

MacRae looked at him closely, gauging Manus' strength and resolve. He knew he was acting as the leader, making the choices for the rest.

"Where did they go, Fraser?" MacRae asked, with little thought he would get a reply. " He did'ne say where. They rode oot yesterday morning and said they'd be back in a few days. When they come back, I'll tell him ye want tae talk wi' him and ha'e him ride tae yer village." Manus told him, hoping he would accept the offer and leave.

"I can see ye'll be no help tae me, in answering my question. So, yer no use then." MacRae told him, his face turning and taking a set in anger.

The glint of light raced along the three and a half feet of razor edge, as MacRae brought his sword around in an arcing move. In a moment, the sword stopped and Manus' head tilted and rolled off his left shoulder. A brief second later, his body toppled and fell, the blood slowly pumping from the arteries. Before anyone could react, MacRae's voice roared out to everyone.

"Where is Sloan Fraser and his men? Ye'll tell me or die, like that one."

The fear took over the clan, like a wave crashing on them. The ones who went to retaliate, were shot with several arrows each and died where they stood, forcing the others to drop their weapons and heed the enraged madman with due diligence. MacRae looked among the people, still seeing defiance on their faces and pointed at a young man.

"Him. Take him and tie him oot."

Several men ran and took hold of nineteen year old, Elgin Fraser, dragging him over to a pair of trees growing eight or so feet from each other. They lashed his hands to them, stretching his arms wide. MacRae walked over to him, drawing his dirk out as he came. He took hold of Elgin's tunic and sliced it open, ripping it from his body. He held the dirk up and thrust it in beside the spine at the top of his shoulders, then tore it down, severing the ribs from their place. Again down the other side and then MacRae dropped the dirk. Elgin screamed in horrific pain feeling his body sliced open. Using his fingers, MacRae pried the ribs apart and pulled them out of his body, spreading them out like bloody wings. He reached into the opened chest cavity and pulled Elgin's lungs out and let them dangle outside. With no way to breathe in, Elgin suffocated in agony as he died.

"Where is Sloan Fraser and his men?" MacRae roared out once more.

Faces no longer held defiance, but in their hearts, they knew they would never tell. The Fraser's prided themselves on a solemn trait, death before dishonour. Some had faced the trial before, but many had not. Each would have to look inside themselves for the strength of commitment, as MacRae grew more outraged at seeing he had affected them with the display, but still no one would speak.

"Take all the men and tie them fer the Blood Eagle. They'll either talk, or die." MacRae ordered.

The MacLean's were first to take men and start tying them to anything that served the purpose. The others followed and soon, every man was tied securely, awaiting the order to be given by James MacRae. The women and children stood in terror-stricken horror, as the menfolk were taunted with dirks and swords, poking and slicing them.

"I'll stop the noo, all I want tae know, is where Sloan and the others are and I'll leave." MacRae yelled out, so everyone could hear.

Thirteen year old Colin Fraser stood suspended and stretched painfully. He had witnessed the prior torture and dreaded it being done to him. Through his wailing sobs, he pled for his life and spoke out.

"I'll tell ye where he is. Don't kill me, I'll tell ye."

McLaughlin Fraser heard him and called out for him to stay his tongue. Before he could say anything more, the hilt of a sword cracked across the back of his head and he hung silent. Colin saw MacRae approaching him and cringed. He fought with his heart to do the right thing or break oath and try to save his life, while sentencing twenty others to their deaths. His sobs grew in intensity as MacRae stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak.

"Where are they, boy? Tell me and I'll spare yer life." MacRae spoke quietly and softly, hoping to ease the teen into disclosing their whereabouts.

Colin looked at James and saw the blood of Manus and Elgin upon him. With all the courage he could muster, he shook his head and tried to be brave. MacRae smiled at him and then to his men.

"He wants tae play games does he? First he says he'll tell, then he shakes his head and says he won't. I don't ha'e time fer games, young Fraser." he said to his men and the last into Colin's face. "Spread his legs and lift his kilt." MacRae ordered the men beside him.

Colin's legs were stretched apart and his kilt lifted up above his waist. MacRae reached out and took hold of Colin's penis and scrotum in his hand and squeezed it tightly, pulling it away from his body. Colin howled in agony as it tore at the nerves, then MacRae moved in closer, so his face was close to Colin's. Without knowing what he was doing, Colin suddenly felt a searing pain race through him, as MacRae sliced through the gristly flesh and severed Colin's pubescent manhood from his body. As Colin screeched in extreme agony, James stuffed the amputated organ into his mouth and down his throat. Colin gagged on his own member and soon, he too had his life extinguished in brutal fashion.

"Do them all. I'm no wasting anymore of my time asking. They want tae play games wi' me, I'll play some games wi' them." James shouted out, ordering the slaughter of forty three men.

Horrific screams began, as backs were sliced, bones broken and ribs torn out of their bodies. One by one the screams died out, as their lungs were pulled out, denying them the breath to scream. The women and children continued to scream in terror, as they watched the scene happening, the points of deadly weapons concentrated on them. MacRae felt sure he would get his answers now from the women, the strength of their men gone and now left defenceless.

MacRae approached them and the screams of terror rose, each of them wondering what horrors awaited them. MacRae took hold of Maglyn Fraser, young, pretty and at least eight months pregnant with Sloan's baby. He pulled her out so everyone could see her and held her by the throat. The women cried and gasped, seeing the horror written on Maglyn's face. MacRae held his bloodied dirk to the underside of her belly, looking amongst the women for one to speak. As much as many wanted to, they held themselves back and stayed their tongues from speaking.

MacRae saw the willingness to remain silent and drew the blade into and across Maglyn's swollen skin. Her eyes went wide in shock at feeling herself being sliced open and gutted, her screams held back by MacRae's grasp. With the confines of flesh no longer containing it, Maglyn's unborn child spilled out and fell to the ground, the umbilical cord trailing back inside her. The screaming became hysterical at the sight of the tiny child lying on the ground, its mother's blood flowing down its cord of life and coating it in red.

Maglyn was barely alive, as MacRae forced her to look down at her child, then he raised his foot and slammed it back down on the infant's skull, crushing the soft bone and killing it. James pulled her head back by her hair and while looking at the faces of the other women, sliced Maglyn's throat and tossed her dying body over her lifeless baby.

"Where is Sloan Fraser? Tell me!" James raged at them.

All he got were screams of abject horror and dread from them in return. Knowing he would never receive an answer, he made a decision to end the questions and finish what he came to do. He turned to Mackenzie and Malcolm, who had stood behind him throughout and ordered them to have spears sunk into the ground, enough for every single Fraser left alive. He wanted them in a formation, wanting to make a statement of what he could do. His command of life and death.

The men started gathering all the spears lying about and cut them in half. Using their swords, they dug holes down and sank the ends of the spears in. Six rows of ten spears each were positioned, enough for all the women and children left. The women became terrified beyond any imaginable horror, as they became aware of what they were for and how they would be used.

The men grabbed a hold of the first woman, a young mother keeping hold of her two children. She tried to hang onto them, but they were torn from her grasp. They pulled her over to the first spear in line and four men lifted her up, lining her up with her sexual opening. They looked back to James MacRae, who gave a nod and the men released her. The point of the spear skewered her instantly, her own weight and gravity being all that was needed to impale her. All she could manage to let out was a gurgled grunt, before she died and remained motionless.

Her children were brought over and first the son of ten was raised and then the twelve year old daughter. Their frantic screaming stopped instantly, as both were impaled on the stakes. In less than five minutes, Sloan's sister, Kileana, niece Breanna and nephew Colson were dead, now positioned feet apart from each other, in lifeless morbidity.

Soon all the women and children were brought and stood before a stake. Whether they kicked and screamed, or just let it happen and prayed, every woman and child left, was added to the deadly formation. James MacRae stood and looked at the carnage he had created. Men with backs torn open, women and children skewered through, were making a sight he hoped struck a chord in Sloan and his men, that their lives were short-lived and would be treated to an even worse demise. He looked at the other leaders beside him, as they looked at him, the understanding this could be their fate, or worse, should they decide to go against him.

Far back on the eastern ridge, where MacRae had started his attack, twenty men watched the last of their clan being slaughtered. Sloan and his men had sailed back from their island, after spending as much time learning to sail their crafts as they could. They had spotted the three birlinns and recognized them from their night of raiding, so they landed beside them. They had made their way up to the ridge, just in time to see the last of it happening. They walked back down the hillside, a cavalcade of emotions running through each of them, Sloan more so. He was never told why this was happening, but in his heart, he knew they had been found out. No other reason would suffice, for what he had just witnessed James MacRae order his men to do.

They looked at each other, the pain of their loss on each of their faces. Wives, mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers, children, gone. Each man shared in agony with one another, none being untouched by the act. Sloan knew they had no choice except to leave, but he would take what he could from MacRae and cause him as much hardship as he could. In no way equal to the loss they had suffered, the Fraser's pushed all four birlinns out in the water and sailed them off. Sloan knew it would strain the ability of MacRae to move his forces, when the battle came to pass. He also started to think of what to do, now that the men about him, were the last of his clan.

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Argus didn't wait for any comments and sat down. He reached for a shortbread finger and stopped himself, then looked at his water and turned to Gordon.

"Could I ha'e a cup of tea, Gordon. I think that'll settle my stomach. Ta."

"Certainly, Mr. Stewart. regular or Earl Grey?" Gordon asked.

"Just regular will do fine thanks." Argus told him, then looked out to see many faces still looking at him in disbelief. "I told ye's it was horrid. Don't look at me like that, I warned ye's and told ye's it was, so did Stuart.

Stuart looked over at Argus and then to the guests. He knew it was something vile and he did warn them, but still felt for them at having to hear of such depravity and cruelty to a human being.

He leaned towards Argus, having thought of something.

"Argus, ye complained tae me aboot leaving things oot, yet ye did'ne explain anything aboot why Braedon was going tae Tioram." Stuart knocked him.

"I did'ne ferget, Stuart. I'm just waiting on a wee cuppa, tae settle me. Och, why do ye ha'e tae make such good shortbread?" Argus chided back and then smiled. "Let me get some tea intae me and then I'll finish up. Will ye look at those two faces. They're ha'ing the grandest time, so they are." Argus said to Stuart, nodding his head at the young couple.

Stuart looked at Tom and Deb, the centre of attention for several couples and smiled, happy to see such a wonderful time being had by them. So much had happened already in the short time they were here, that he knew this would be a very memorable experience for them. He was beginning to think it would be for everyone.

Gordon brought back a silver tea service and tray and set it beside Argus, who happily watched Gordon pour the fragrant, orange coloured tea into the fine, bone china cup. He passed on adding anything more and took a sip of the hot liquid and smiled, as he felt it warm him inside. After several sips of tea, Argus put his cup back on the saucer and stood again. The guests wore looks of dread on their faces, wondering if more horrific tales were to be told.

Argus smiled and chuckled lightly, knowing he had 'balanced' the storytelling back from being a romance story, to one of how the clans lived, loved and died by the edge of a sword.