Blood of the Clans Ch. 43

The others watched in horror, as they sailed past body parts and dying men, their blood darkening the waters, while others scrambled to save themselves, clinging to debris and the parts still floating. The gunners and men cheered at their success, but the moment was short-lived. The shallower water gave way to sand and the heavy frigate slowed drastically in speed, as it became grounded. Sorley and Colla's birlinns felt the same impact and the men were thrown forward by the jolt. The other birlinns vied for a position to attack the stranded vessel, coming in and opening fire with arrows, trying to hit the men as they broke from cover. Several fell overboard into the shallow water, turning the tidal pools red from their wounds.

Quickly Roberts recovered and had his men aim the cannons at the birlinns, hoping the listing of the ship would allow him a shot. Free will to shoot was given, should a boat come into aim. Sorley and Colla had the lines cut that attached them together and to the ship. Their oarsmen set to on the oars and brought them safely away and a chance to manoeuvre for a firing position.

As the clans worked to take out the frigate, MacRae and his three remaining birlinns were sailing up to them. They had one goal and one goal only, fire in passing and make it safely to Loch Duich. Far behind, but coming strong, Grayson and Iain were making their way to them as well, the battered birlinns struggling along.

Two birlinns sat at the bow, lofting flaming arrows towards the forward sails, as others started shooting at the side listed too high to fire on them. Six birlinns ran aground on the sand close to the ship, the men taking positions on the ground behind them, firing flaming arrows at the deck. Cannons were tilted to find an angle to shoot at the boats, but the listing declined them an opportunity. The other side was given a better chance to find a target. Once it was found, the men fired at the boat and made short work of turning it into coffin wood. The large shot tore through men and wood the same, as the short distance between them and the men aboard the Kennedy birlinn was met with devastation. As the clans battled against the frigate, MacRae and the other two birlinns made it past them and continued on towards Duich.

The scene captivated everyone at Donan, as the roar of the guns reverberated down the loch to them and echoed back off the hills. Most of the men gathered along the new east wall, where raised platforms allowed two bigger cannons to sit in defence. The old guns were moved to the west side battlement and the south wall over the gate, where their shorter range would have more effect. The horseshoe atoll to the north-east about five hundred yards away, that was once unreachable by the old cannons, was now surpassed four fold by the new ones,

Even though they had a farther reaching impact, the scene that played out before them was still more than twice the cannon's range away. Only one gun had an aim at the birlinns coming towards them, waiting until they were well within range. Knowing they only had one chance to hit them, they waited until they had turned to go south down Duich. The broadside angle gave more of a target area and the shot found its mark, splitting the birlinn in two. One birlinn continued on, while the other stopped to pick up survivors. The men in the castle roared at their victory, then readied the cannon again, ready to sink another one. Men watched the drama unfolding up the loch, cheering on their men to beat the English.

The frigate rocked in the breeze, its keel coming out of the soft sand. Slowly it shifted forward with the waves, but not enough to free it. Roberts thought on the action and had a idea. He ordered his gunners to fire on his signal and felt the incoming breezes. Judging the angle he was on at the height of the breeze, he had his port cannons fire at once. The ship rocked upright and shifted forward several feet, before stopping again. Roberts had the starboard guns fire and the ship rocked back the other way and slid several more feet off the sand.

The breeze increased in strength at that moment and kept the motion going, the Justice beginning to right itself, as it slid further it into deeper water. The men on the island quickly pushed their boats back into the water and scrambled to the oars. If they weren't moving in the next minute, they would become targets for the guns of the Justice. There was nothing to do, but watch the vessel keep going and follow in a safe formation around it, keeping out of range of any guns.

MacRae and his birlinns sailed down Duich to the end, beaching them on the south side at the end of Glen Shiel. Blair MacRae was helped from the boat and laid on the dry ground. Blood seeped from under his armour on the right side of his chest. The tip had gone under the leather plates and imbedded itself in the muscle tissue. The men removed his armour and ripped open his tunic, exposing the site of penetration. Blair gasped in pain, trying to prepare himself for the men to pull it out. He drew in a short breath and nodded quickly that he was ready.

Slowly the tip came out, tissue sticking to the barbed ends of the point, as it was designed to do. Blair cried out in pain and then the relief of it being gone washed through him. Quickly they cut some of his tunic and made a compress and bandage to stem the flow of blood, wrapping it around his chest and tying it off. Blair sat up weakly and ordered several of the men to travel inland two miles to the Saddle and inform his father of the attack and the Justice coming and getting stranded on the island.

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"So far, the whole attack has gone wrong fer MacRae. The attack on Tioram failed completely, wi' the MacLean's now turning sides against him. I don't think it took much fer Iain tae see he was on the losing side. The MacDonald's had massacred the troops and cavalry and bested his birlinns, so he knew things wouldn't probably go as well at Donan. I tell ye's what. Tom and Deb, see when ye's go tae Donan the morrow, see what history they ha'e fer ye about the battle and see what they say. They might ha'e some more details about it than I do. I only ha'e the general history from books and accounts from Garreth and Grayson, so I'm curious has tae how they ha'e written their bit of history on it. The ladies diaries ha'e painted a bit of a different picture from the others, so it's good tae get all sides of it tae get a good idea of what the truth is." Stuart asked his nephew and future niece.

"Okay, that sounds like a plan. We'll dig up whatever we can about the battle and compare notes when we get back tomorrow evening." Tom replied, Deb nodding happily in agreement, excited that she was playing a part now in the telling.

"Now, telling it from our side still, I'll tell of what happens next, once the forces on land meet. Ye's remember that Robert is on his way from Tioram and making his way north-east towards where Iain had told them MacRae and his men, as well as the English were waiting. Ye also remember that sixty riders are coming from Loch Hourn, after picking up the wounded and putting the horses ashore. Now, ye'll ha'e tae think back a wee bit, tae the day before yesterday, when Argus told ye's of Fletcher becoming a Glaistig." he started saying.

"Excuse me, Stuart, for interrupting. A Glai... what?" Mark interrupted him, not knowing anything of Fletcher or the legends.

Stuart laughed, realizing his new guests knew nothing of the tales and legends of the past and explained it to them.

"A Glaistig is a spirit that is benevolent tae animals. It has a connection tae them some how. Fletcher was an old man that lived by Tioram and fought wi' Grayson and Arabella's father, John. He was very well loved by the animals and when he died, they followed the procession tae his grave in Cul Dorlinn and moaned and wailed fer him, as he was laid tae rest. Some ha'e said his spirit rose and only the animals could see him. All I ha'e fer any proof, is what's been written down back then. Whether it's just a faerie tale, or something else, is entirely up tae speculation. It was seen by too many men and told too many times afterwards, by more than a few clansmen, fer it tae be anything else but true. So wi'out debate on the subject, I'll just tell ye's what happened and let ye's decide fer yerselves if it's true, or not." Stuart began again, smiling a bit, as he saw the new guests already becoming engrossed in the story.

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The English had made it as far north as Loch Cluanie at the far end, just before the start of Glen Shiel. MacRae and most of his men were there waiting for them, wanting to travel en masse to Duich and attack with guns from the Justice on the water and the large English demi-cannons, thirty-two pounders, finely decorated, bronze barrels mounted on oak carriages with four foot diameter oak wheels. The heavy, draught horses were well watered and fed, before they were hitched to the tail harnesses of the carriages, ready to pull the heavy loads to their destination. Supply wagons of shells and solid shot, others loaded with kegs of gunpowder and still more with food and supplies, were hitched to their horses and slowly the formation of men, horse and artillery was brought into line.

MacRae rode at the head of the procession with two other men, Captain Alexander Rennie of Aberdeen, the last of the Earl's acquisitions and Captain David Lockstone, commanding the forces sent from Carlisle.

MacRae looked and felt proud, as he turned to see the force he commanded, believing in his heart Eilean Donan was his. If Douglas Wallace backed him as he said, the western highlands of Scotland were his to command. There was no concern in his thoughts, if the other clans made it into the castles chosen for them. It was their worry to fight and win, not his. All he concerned himself with was his possession of Donan and the rule of the land he owned and took.

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"Uncle Stuart, sorry for stopping you again, but Deb and I and I bet Taylor and Lisa are wondering the same thing, where is Garreth and the MacLeod's? I haven't heard anyone mention them since he and Arabella..." he stopped himself, not wanting to reopen that issue again, "well, once they left from here and everyone went to Tioram. Or did Garreth go to Tioram?" Tom speculated.

"Ah, now yer thinking, son. The plan was fer the others tae sail tae Tioram and of course defend it, but some took different routes, so they could scout fer anything out of the ordinary. Garreth and three hundred MacLeod's set sail and came down the way we went and were in Donan long before MacRae and his army arrived. Combined wi' close tae two hundred MacDonnell and surrounding clans loyal tae them, they were a sizable force tae contend wi'. They'd been making plans as well and knew the only route tae stage from. Believe me, Eilean Donan was by no means unprotected. All the plans Grayson had made prior, were still being adhered tae and more were set in place. The pits were dug the same as along the Shiel and of course, they worked pretty much the same. Now, I'll get back tae the march that was coming north tae them and the things that happened. Robert and his men were only six miles back from the forces at Shielbridge, just passing the tip of Loch Hourn, while the sixty riders were making their way east to the same point, only four miles away. Now, if ye's don't ha'e anymore questions, I'll get back tae what was happening wi' the birlinns, once I get caught up wi' all the other things. We still ha'e Therese and the French ships coming up as well, remember. So don't make me ferget anything, or Argus and Tavish will ha'e my hide fer it, won't ye's?" Stuart finished, laughing heartily.

"I hav'ne any complaints about it. I like the way ye tell the story, Stuart. Ye add a good lot of flair and posh tae it, so ye do." Argus told him, raising his cup of tea in salute.

"Well thank ye, Argus. Very nice of ye tae say. I will say, ye've been doing a good job yerself, the start was a wee bit shaky, but ye've toned it down and it's a bit easier tae take." Stuart said, laughing harder.

"I'll say the same as Argus, Stuart. Ye do ha'e a way wi' words and ye've no missed anything that I know of." Tavish told him, looking more relaxed and not deep in his

thoughts anymore.

"On you go then, Stuart. I think we're all excited to know what happened. I hope one day we can hear it from the beginning like everyone else has, it sounds incredible." David told him, the look of hopefulness on his face and everyone else.

"Och, really, David? I don't know if the three of us could sit long enough tae do this again. This was all just a spur of the moment thing fer Tom and Deb. Yer whole trip would be spent listening tae us prattle on about things. It really is a shame ye's could'ne ha'e flown in earlier and gone wi' us. We took them a cruise around tae the places and seen a few things that we're still not sure about. Not tae get off the story, but while we were out, we saw a battle ready birlinn, a MacDonald one no less, sailing by us in the fog, They were chanting their war cry too. Tavish made calls later that day and the next and no one knows of it. So it's still a mystery tae us, but twenty or so of us saw it. We were sailing by Knock's ruins just before and Tavish had no sooner told everyone about the Gruagach, and it appeared in the viewfinder of Deb's camera. Everyone saw it and after Deb gave it her news, which again, no one knows what she said, it was heard laughing quietly fer a bit and then it faded away." Stuart told them, his own face still showing the disbelief in it.

"I know what she said, but she made me swear not to tell anyone else." Tom divulged, looking at Deb and crossing his heart, smiling to everyone that he was privy to her secret.

"Okay, a Grua-who-a?" Gillian asked with a puzzled look, the Gaelic name sounding so strange to her. She wasn't alone with her expression, as the others had no idea of the past events that happened on the cruise.

"The Green Lady of Knock. Gruagach means green lady in Gaelic. It's the spirit of a lady that was murdered, as she tried tae protect the fortunes of her clan. It's been a myth, a legend that's been told and handed down fer centuries, but we all saw it. Tae be honest, wi' all they things Stuart has just mentioned and the ones he's about tae mention, whene'er he gets back around tae it, I was sure the past had come tae join us. Clan birlinns, ghosts and such, all just appearing like magic, makes a body think a wee bit, don't ye agree?" Tavish explained and left the new arrivals to enjoy the story, guessing like the rest, as to the truth and reality of the events.

"Aye, yer right, Tav, I could'ne help telling them that though, could I? We still hav'ne come tae an agreement fer an explanation of it and I want tae know, so do ye and ye too, Argus. Anyway, we'll discuss that subject another time, along wi' others, but I'll get back tae the story at hand and see if we can finish this soon." Stuart told them and sipped some tea, before he cleared his throat and started in again.

Faces were turned to Stuart, eager to hear him tell of battles past and a history of who they came from. Fourteen year old Sean pulled the other ear bud out and turned off his Ipod and paid attention as well, the mention of ghosts and fighting capturing his interest.