Colin MacDonnell rode with haste through the countryside towards the attacking MacRae's. It was his duty to watch them and ride back when they started to march for Donan. Having lived, travelled and hunted in the area all his life, he knew the best route to take and where he could safely watch them without being spotted. It was his deepest hopes as he prayed, that he could live through this night and return to his wife and family, alive and well. He'd seen the results of battle with Claymores and battle axes and wished to God, he didn't become one of the fallen. The visions of body parts hacked and cleaved from his body, left him with a fear and dread at being caught.
He rode to the spot where Glendon and Gordon MacDonald had ambushed the two MacRae scouts and upon arriving, the sound of flies buzzing about the corpses, plus a pair of dark stains on the ground, let him know he was at the right hill. He tied his horse as far away from the site of death, not wanting it spooked by the smell, then climbed the high, grassy hill. A large, yellow gorse bush provided adequate cover for his needs, as he looked down into the valley below and saw the troops. They were camped for the night and Colin relaxed, knowing he would live to see another sunrise. Pulling out some dried meat and an apple, Colin settled down for dinner and a night of listening to voices in the dark.
The shrill chirping of birds woke him up, just as the sun shone on the peaks of the Kintail Ridge. The sky was cloudless and bright, allowing him a clear view of the MacRae's, as he watched them assemble. He made another count of how many men were on foot and the number of riders, as well as how they were laden with equipment and arms. When they started marching, he was sliding backwards away from them, then ran to his horse and rode back for Donan in haste.
Within the hour, he was riding along the loch, feeling the cool mist rolling off the surface of the water. He shouted out the password, "Lady Anne," to lookouts he knew were posted in the trees for ambush, to inform them who he was and not get taken down with an arrow. Riding up the bridge to the castle, the heavy oak beam was lifted and the gate opened, as Colin galloped through. He handed his horse to a soldier, as he quickly made his way into the keep. The Lairds, Grayson and Garreth, were sitting with the captains around the smooth, polished table in the dining hall discussing plans, as he approached.
"My Lairds, the time is upon us. MacRae has assembled and is marching. I make their numbers at three hundred on foot, one hundred riders and all loaded down wi' equipment and arms. They should make Donan by the stroke of mid-day at their rate of travel." Colin relayed to them all.
"Well done, Colin, sit and eat and enjoy drink before they arrive. Ye'll need yer strength tae lay yer Claymore intae a few of them." Grayson said to him, welcoming him to sit and join them.
Colin smiled and sat, digging into the food still on the table. A soldier brought a cup of warmed cider and a plate of oatcakes to him and Colin drank and ate heartily.
"Captains, if what Colin says, is how they approach, they'll suspect nothing and will march intae our hands and intae our swords and arras. We can'ne be gi'en more of a chance at a victory than this. Our men are in position in the woods, in three areas of attack, stopping any retreat. If our impostors can make them think everything is okay in the castle, they'll march right in, allowing us tae surround them." Garreth explained, using his finger on the table, to map out the plans once more.
Grayson stood and raised his glass to them. "Clansmen, I stand proud wi' ye in defending the honour of Lady Anne and Eilean Donan."
"Aye," came a resounding reply from everyone.
"Tae Lady Anne, tae Donan and victory." Glenn MacDonnell added and drank his drink down.
"Then tae battle and our thirst fer blood. May the blood spilled, no be yer own." Garreth saluted and they all finished their wine, slamming the cups on the table, the room echoing with the sound.
Garreth, Grayson and the others left the hall and joined the men who were preparing the last of the ammunition to the posts. Powder and shot were stacked close to the cannons, arrows piled high by each archer position. The men had donned the MacRae's clothing and stood in obvious positions to be seen, while many more would remain undercover of the wall, until it was time.
A rider was sent out after a few hours to locate where the MacRae's had travelled to so far. It wasn't long, before he rode back fast and dismounted, letting the leaders and captains know to listen for marching men soon. The men stayed far back from the path they would take, making sure not to give themselves away. Fear was mixed with anxiousness, as they waited to spring their trap. A lone rider appeared at the bend of the hill, taking a long look at the castle and surrounding area for enemy troops. He spotted their birlinn, still moored along the shore and took it as a sign everything was okay. He turned and rode back, never knowing more than twenty arrows were trained on him at all times.
In less than half an hour, the sounds of the ground being pounded, rang up the loch, echoing from between the high peaks. It didn't take much longer, until the first horses appeared, ridden slowly to stay close to the troops for protection. The men looked tired already from the four hour march along the glen, carrying arms and equipment. The first group sat quietly and watched the procession pass before them, as did the second. James rode at the lead and looked to the castle, as he came to the bridge. He raised his right hand to the men and hailed them. A MacDonnell in disguise raised his arm in kind and hailed in return. As MacRae scanned the faces, none appeared familiar.
James called a halt immediately and looked around quickly. Leith knew what had set him off as well and called the alarm quietly, to be passed back along the lines. "Look sharp, this could be a trap."
The entire formation was stopped and some readied themselves for attack. James looked to the castle again and called for Blair to come. Two soldiers ran and got him, hands bound, and dragged him up to the wall. With two knives digging into him, one in his stomach, the other ready to remove his manhood, he looked out to his father. James recognized his son and hailed him again. Blair returned the hail with a shout. James heard it and readied his horse to leave, Leith saw it as well.
"It's a trap. Tae arms!" his call went out.
The proper signal of a waving arm wasn't given and James knew there was trouble. He turned and ordered his men to make ready for attack. No sooner did the men start to move and a terrifying mircanth arose from the woods, as the men were given the order to attack. The first volley of arrows dropped men and beast in great numbers, as they remained clustered. The second volley dropped less, but the men were spreading themselves out and using shields now. Once again the arrows flew and men fell in dozens. Before they could prepare for attack, Garreth signalled the charge and two hundred men charged out of the woods, swords and axes swinging.
With the element of surprise, the attack over-whelmed the MacRae's and the front lines dropped in vast numbers. Arms and legs were severed in a flash by heavy steel, honed razor sharp, slicing through them. Battle axes parted heads from shoulders and cleaved huge gashes into bodies, leaving men barely alive enough, to see themselves die in horrible agony.
The ground became stained in blood and viscera, as men were slain with brutal force. Both sides took losses in the first wave, then Grayson called for the next charge, lessening the opposition's numbers quickly. Glenn saw some of the troops trying to retreat to safety and look to out-flank his clansmen. He dashed out with his men and stunned them with their savage, guttural screams.
Men rushed at each other, swords and axes, dirks and spears thrusting and slashing into one another. Blood sprayed and fountained wildly over everyone, coating most in a crimson wash of pulsing, battle paint, as severed arteries spewed the life-force from the men. They soon became unrecognizable from one another, as their features became disguised in a mono-chromatic pattern of blood red.
Every man became engaged in a conflict of battle, the men in the castle abandoning their posts to get into the fray. The combined clans pushed the MacRae's back to the shores of the loch, leaving them no where to stand. James knew he couldn't oppose anymore, only defend, his chances of winning taken away. Knowing if he continued, he would be annihilated completely, he signalled his flag bearer for a cease fire flag to be raised. Garreth saw the signal flag, and called a cease in battle to his flag bearer and allowed James the chance to declare his intentions.
Soon all battling stopped, as orders were given. Garreth and Grayson held their swords high in a signal to halt their men. James walked towards Garreth, Grayson crossing to join them.
"MacLeod, MacDonald, I call a cease tae the battle. We've both suffered heavy losses and we need not lose more. If ye agree, I'll take my men and return tae Glencoe. Do ye concur?" James asked breathlessly, blood dripping from his hand and sword.
