Glenn MacDonald stood at the prow of the black birlinn, his hand holding the figurehead of a grey dragon as they crossed the choppy waters of the inner sea on the way to the Isle of Skye, the thoughts of his kin slaughtered and burnt, still weighing heavy on him. As they approached the south shore, he yelled to the men in the other birlinn to make for Castle Camus and set up defences. He sadly saw the small fishing boat of Jacob Dornie, his arm draped lifeless over the side, the sail still flapping in the wind. No signs of enemy forces were seen anywhere and things looked peaceful.
"John, gather up Jacob and take him back tae Tioram, as Lady Arabella has ordered. I'll sail straight tae Dunvegan." Glenn instructed him, as his boat turned back to round the western point and sail north along the coast of Skye.
He watched as they landed and the men went into action. Before he rounded the point and lost sight of them, he saw Jacob's boat tied to the birlinn and the sail lowered, while two men were wrapping Jacob's body in their sheepskin robes. He bowed his head slightly and prayed for the soul of the brave man, knowing how vital his efforts were. In his heart, he felt that no greater deed could be done, than to give his all and give his life, for the sake of others.
The boat made its way up the coast, then around the last point and sailed into Dunvegan Bay. The grey seals swam about the birlinn, as it neared the castle, welcoming them in. They had found safety in the waters of the loch and had become like members of the clan. They swam out with the men on their voyages, wishing them well in their travels.
Whenever they would return, they would greet them, like now, and break from the water, barking out to the men. Glenn could see the lookout signalling the others of their arrival and men coming to the shore to meet them. The cloudy sky cast wild, moving shadows over the towering walls of the castle, giving an effect of movement to the structure. The dense woods surrounding it teemed with abundant game and wildlife, as a flock of pheasant broke from the brush at the edge, as the men came to them.
Glenn saw Garreth and Grayson coming to the wall and hailed them. His urgency to inform them necessitated him jumping from the birlinn into the frigid water, before it was beached, Glenn raced up the sea-wall passage towards them, taking as many steps per stride as he could.
"Laird Garreth, Laird Grayson, Lady Arabella sends word tae make fer Tioram wi' all haste. Eilean Donan has been sacked by the MacRae's and Laird Hamish was killed. They slaughtered everyone in the castle as well. Lady Anne escaped and made her way tae Knock tae warn us. She's at Tioram the now. Gather as many men as ye can and sail back wi' us. Those are the orders given." Glenn relayed the commands to them and waited, breathing hard from the exertion.
"Glenn, ye ha'e cousins in that castle, Are they alright?" Grayson asked him, in hopes Glenn's people made it out.
Glenn's eyes fell and his head bowed and shook his answer. No words were needed to know he was in pain at his loss. Grayson and Garreth both laid a hand on his shoulder in comfort.
"Their deaths will be avenged, Glenn. Ye ha'e my word." Grayson assured him.
"Mine as well, Glenn. The MacRae's shall pay fer this treachery." Garreth added in all seriousness, the tone of his voice belying his hatred of the MacRae's. Garreth patted his shoulder once more and looked into Glenn's eyes as he raised them. "It shall be done, Glenn," then turned and gave the command for all to assemble on the birlinns within the hour.
Grayson led Glenn back into the castle, into the great hall and over to a large desk holding several containers of spirits. He chose the one with the golden fire to it and poured the MacLeod drink into two silver cups. The highlanders raised their glasses and Grayson proclaimed, "Fad Saol Agat." (Long life to you), to Glenn. Glenn felt his heart breaking more, knowing his loss was shared by more than himself and his kin. They drank in one draft and set the cups on the table, then clasping hands to shoulders and without anything more than the look in their eyes, bonded in oath to set this injustice right.
"Glenn, my heart is heavy fer yer loss, as though it was my own. Be strong and draw strength from their deaths. There will be time tae mourn, when we ha'e taken back the castle and done away wi' the MacRae's." Grayson told him, readying him to do battle.
Glenn looked into the eyes of his cousin and saw the belief it would come to pass as he had said. He nodded his head in agreement and Grayson laid an arm over his shoulder and led him back to the birlinns, now being filled with men and arms. Garreth was standing at the entrance to the sea-wall passage, counting his numbers and making sure all that could be used, was being taken.
"Ladders. Ye two, go and fetch as many as ye can from the groonds and bring them as well." Garreth ordered two battle-ready men.
They returned an ascent of "Aye, my Laird," and dashed for the equipment. Grayson and Glenn walked back and parted as they approached Garreth, Glenn heading to the boats, his shoulders slumped, as agonized rage was finding a place in his heart.
"Tis a good day tae make the swords red wi' blood, Garreth." Grayson said as he approached him.
"Aye Grayson, my arm is needy of my Claymore tae swing. It's been a while since we've last had a taste of action." Garreth responded. "How is Glenn, Grayson?" his concern for him more in his ability to fight, as opposed to his grief.
"He'll swing his sword at anything coming at him, Garreth, don'ne fear his spirit tae avenge this."
Grayson smiled at him and went down the passage to the boats, now almost full with men and weapons. He could see the small cannons being loaded in preparation for any encounters on the way to Tioram. They would be his next purchase for his birlinns. One well placed shot could take a birlinn out of action from a greater distance than many arrows.
The two men came back with four ladders and raced down the passage, Garreth following behind. They boarded the birlinns and the men set to on the oars, rowing them out to the bay. Once they turned and faced out, they raised the sails, the wind catching them, and along with the oars, they sped up the bay. The grey seals swam along side as always as they left, the men looking at them and taking it as a good sign, wishing them well on their voyage and victory in their battles.
The voyage to Tioram felt longer than usual, as the men were anxious to get there and get into battle. They sailed into Loch Moidart in the late afternoon and soon were landing on the coral sand beach at the foot of the castle. The men disembarked and followed Garreth and Grayson into the castle grounds. Grayson entered and called out for his sister, who came down from her chambers upon hearing them. She led them to the hall and sat around the large table.
"Grayson, we're facing troubled times ahead, dear brother and Garreth, we beseech ye tae join in the fray. The MacRae's are a large clan now and we'll need every man we can muster tae re-take Donan from them and secure it before the rest arrive from Glencoe."
"Arabella, how is Lady Anne?" his heart knowing the answer before it was given.
