Blood of the Clans

James MacRae and his two captains rode ahead of the procession on the newly made roadway, making slow progress towards Sheil Bridge where they would split apart. One gun and crew would go to the point on the west side of Loch Duich with Captain Lockstone, seven hundred yards across the water from Donan, while the other would continue to a flat area nine hundred yards from the south wall. Two platoons of Pioneers were sent ahead three days before, to clear the way and make roads for the cannons to travel on, levelling the ground and felling trees, to let them pass as easily as they could.

Forty men made up each unit, and each man worked diligently to complete the task in time for the battle. Lieutenant Charles Handley led the west shore platoon and had reached the point at the juncture of Loch Duich and Loch Alsh ahead of schedule, smiling to himself, knowing he would be commended on his work and in line for promotion. The sound of the Justice's guns roaring from up Loch Alsh, had them looking to see where the action was taking place, while others looked back to see if their field gun was coming.

They were at the spot they needed to make it to and were levelling the site for the cannon, looking across the water at the target, when three birlinns sailed past and then the sound of cannon fire from across the loch. The centre birlinn exploded into pieces and sent debris of wood and flesh flying onto shore at them. Minutes later a shot roared again and took out two solid oaks behind them. It took little direction for the lieutenant to get the men working faster to complete their task and as soon as they were finished, they mounted up and quickly marched back towards the head of the loch, to where the army was amassing.

On the opposite side of Duich, another platoon of Pioneers were clearing a road for the other cannon to travel on. They had cleared the first four miles of roadway needed to bring the cannon forward and were coming well within site of the castle. As they neared their destination a mile away, their attention became divided between clearing and levelling the ground and keeping an eye on the area around them for an attack.

Eyes watched the men working from deep in the woods, waiting for the moment when the order came to attack. Sixty locals lay in wait, armed mostly with farm and trade tools, several with bows and others with anything lethal they could swing and hit with, as well as stab and gore. Garreth had given the task to Iain, Stephen and Athol to lead an advance force, their knowledge of the area and amassing of a hundred plus locals, giving them an advantage over the invaders. They had watched for hours, trailing them quietly as they worked their way along the open coast. Iain left for his horse and went back to Donan to inform Glenn and Garreth of the progress. Garreth and Glenn were in the keep going over the plans with several captains, making sure they had covered the castle with as much protection and defence as they could. They all looked up, as Iain strode up to them quickly.

"What news, Iain?" Glenn asked his brother.

"They're just o'er a mile from the castle. They made it through those slopes by Keppoch and they ha'e two more tae go. They're making enough noise tae wake the dead, but they don't e'en know we're there watching them. The men are getting anxious tae attack and await yer orders. Laird Garreth. Is there any word from Tioram? I fear fer Laird Grayson and what's happening there." he asked, his feelings for the man clearly showing.

"We've not had any word so far, Iain. If the English ha'e been already fer close tae a week preparing, the same must be happening there. I'm not too worried about them. Don't ferget, the Irish ha'e joined us, so we ha'e far more men, horse and boat than they think. They'll attack Tioram and get more than they bargained fer. They Irish are known fer hating the English as much as we do, so they'll fight tae kill each and every one of them and any who support them. Remember who's leading them too, Sorley Boy MacDonnell. Ye heard the stories told of what they did tae his son and family. No one could hate the English more than him and want tae see them die...and not very pleasantly either."

"I say kill them now! Take the filth out where they are and be done with it." Glenn fumed.

"We'll wait, Glenn. Ye'll get yer chance soon enough, Iain." Garreth interjected, before any more talk of attack was mentioned.

Garreth was waiting until they had cleared as much road as they could, letting the enemy build what the castle and the MacDonnell's needed for future growth, while Glenn seethed at the chance to start spilling blood in retaliation.

"Wait till the bastards ha'e come as far as they're going tae. When they come no further, kill them where they stand, don't let one make it back. Clear the bodies from sight and then come tell me where they stopped. I know they're clearing the land fer the heavy guns tae bring up and not just fer men tae march on, so it's good we set the pits closer tae the castle. If they came any closer, we'd ha'e tae take them out, before they made it tae them. That would be a shame. From what we're told, they're doing a grand job of making a new road fer us. The more they do, the less we ha'e tae do later oorselves." Garreth told them,

getting nods of agreement to his thinking.

"We'll ha'e our men co'er the area above them and wait till after they start attacking. MacRae will start his march on us once our defences ha'e been battered by shot. When they leave their guns defenceless, we'll attack and take them out, then come up from behind and flank them for attack. When Laird Grayson is victorious, we ha'e his support as well. He'll come through the hills on horse and sail wi' any and all birlinns under his command. MacRae isn't entering this castle, mark my words. The face and beauty of Scotland must be saved from his retched horror and ne'er gi'en a chance tae mar it. Now go, Iain. Do as I say and let them finish building our road. When they're done, ye know what's expected of ye's, God guide yer hands." he said, looking into Iain's eyes squarely, committing him to the task.

Iain bowed quickly to Garreth, then looked at his brother still exuding his rage for MacRae blood, lowered his head and exited the castle. He rode hard back to the small bern running from the hills and then up into them, riding along the ridge out of sight and out of sound. He dismounted and tied his horse with the others and quietly made his way back to his men, still watching the Pioneers make progress. The lieutenant leading the road builders, mounted up and slowly rode towards the castle, surveying the path ahead. He was concerned about a rocky slope that cut across his path and presented a problem in negotiating it. It was too steep to go build a grade up it and no way to get around it, as it fell away into the loch.

He dismounted and surveyed the rock, studying its composition and height from level ground, judging what must be done to continue building. He rode back and halted the progress to discuss what was needed. Five of the men, skilled in explosives, went to the store wagon and returned with ten small casks of gunpowder. They returned to the slope and quickly set the first charges. After lighting the fuses, the five men rushed away into the woods for cover, hiding behind trees. In a few seconds, the peaceful quiet was rocked with the explosions, the echoes resounding between the hills in all directions. Lieutenant Roy Mitchell took stock of the rubble after the airborne projectiles had returned to earth and knew they would need more help in creating a path through it. He looked past the mound of rock and could see his goal only five hundred yards ahead, a flat area of land jutting out, that gave a perfect shot at the south walls of the castle nine hundred yards away from it. He rode back and brought twenty men forward to clear away stone and rubble, while the rest stayed and continued levelling a series of rolling mounds.

Iain talked with Stephen and Athol and gave them Garreth's orders. They looked at the men clearing the rubble away with picks and shovels, levelling it to solid rock again. Five more charges were set and lit, as the men took cover once again. The echoes of the ship's cannon's echoed down the loch moments before their blast went off, so Mitchell waited for the debris to land and went to the shore to see the cause of the other blast. He looked across the loch and saw his counterpart, Lieutenant Handley, leading his platoon of men back down the loch at a fast pace, then stared down to the mouth and saw nothing coming. The next round of cannon fire had him hastily gathering his men and as quick as they could, fifteen men started clearing away rubble, while five took up arms in case of attack. The others farther back saw the change and responded in kind. Soon musket barrels were pointed in defence, bayonets fixed on the ends.

Iain saw the change in defence and saw their odds at winning decrease. He knew they had to come up with a better vantage in their favour to best them and win. Battling with tools and swords against men with tools and swords, put them on equal ground, but muskets made things turn drastically in the army's ability to take them out without a fighting chance.

Stephen rode back along the ridge and surveyed the area the Pioneers would take back. A pass cut through a slope seven hundred yards further back, afforded them cover on each side, providing the perfect ambush. Their work would be their own undoing, making Stephen laugh at the irony. He slowly rode back up to the others and tied his horse up.

"What of it, Stephen? Did ye find anything tae gi' us favour o'er them?" Iain asked anxiously.

"They gi' us it themselves, Iain." he started laughing as he relayed it to them. "They cut that pass a ways back this morning, gi'ing us a place tae lie in wait on both sides. They'll come back along the path they made, so they'll no see us and walk right intae our weapons. With the element of surprise, we can o'erpower them, before they can use their muskets on us. We'll take their carts and horses tae the castle and use whate'er they ha'e in them. We'll ha'e better weapons tae use as well. Iain, look." Stephen halted and pointed at the Pioneers.

The small army of men had levelled the ground to a satisfactory grade for the horses to pull the cannon over easily and were collecting their tools, completing their work there. They watched to see where they would go to next, making their decision to continue watching, or prepare to kill them.

Cannon fire continued to roar in the distance, letting the workers know the battle wasn't coming closer yet. Their movement towards the castle gave them a stay of execution of their lives, as they worked their way over the last five hundred yards to the firing area. The men levelled an area twenty feet by twenty feet, then layered it with crushed stone from the loch. Once done, they loaded all their tools into the carts and turned around, making their way back down the loch to the staging area. Knowing the battle had started, their time was now in need of haste, if they were to get back safely. They rode in the carts and doubled on horse back, leaving them at a great disadvantage to an attack, especially one from ambush.

Iain and the others rode four hundred feet above them on the ridge, to the spot chosen by Stephen and quickly tied the horses. Nimbly sliding and running down the slope, they came to the area Stephen had pointed out and divided themselves on both sides. They stationed themselves behind the slopes, along enough of it to ensnare all of them at once. Knowing how the Pioneers had formed their line, plans were made for certain men to go for the carts, while others went for the doubled riders. The archers were to take out anyone with a musket first, before shooting anyone else.

As the sound of hooves and cart wheels approached, men became tense and readied themselves for action. Where yesterday saw them tending to livestock and fields, or fishing the coastal waters and raising families, today they were armed and ready to bring death upon men they didn't know and cared not to. Not one carried any remorse for what they would do, their lives and the lives of those they loved and cared about weighing their actions.

The first riders entered the narrow pass, looking up at the slopes carefully as they rode in. The carts came next, the waiting clansmen counting them off, as they waited for the sound of the final riders to enter. Once the last hooves made it past the men, they let out a wild mircanth and charged over the slopes. The Pioneers were too startled to react and were taken off guard, as the highlanders leapt from the top of the mounds onto them. Archers quickly started taking out anyone holding a musket, but five men in the carts took aim and dropped their targets. Once fired, the bayonets provided them with defence, but longer pitchforks made their way in and gored the riders with several deep holes. In less than fifteen minutes, every Pioneer was savagely killed whatever way could be done, whether slashed and stabbed, or gored and bludgeoned, then dragged behind the mounds out of sight.

Dirt and rocks were scattered over the blood to hide the stains on the ground, but the disappearance of the platoon would leave questions. It was up to MacRae to find the answers, but it would be a moot point to waste time on, the battle about to be waged taking precedent over missing men. The horses were tied to the carts and turned around, while others scaled up the hillside and back to their own horses. A small group of ten stayed behind with Athol, to keep an eye out for any advancing scouts or troop movement. All the tools and weapons were loaded in one cart, while their five dead were transported in the other. They rode parallel to each other, until the bern, then they joined up again, to make their way back to Donan with their news and rewards.

Iain rode alongside the cart with the weapons and tools, as well as the gunpowder charges, looking at it all carefully, before speaking to the driver.

"Ye know, McPherson, I'm going tae ask Laird Garreth if ye can ha'e this cart and horse."

"God bless ye Iain, did I do that well?" Hector McPherson replied, smiling with happiness, feeling he was being rewarded for his efforts.

"Ye did no bad, Hector, but I was thinking if ye had yer own, ye'd stop coming tae my place and stealing mine." then Iain laughed heartily, making the others laugh at Hector as well.

"Och, bugger off, MacDonnell, ye heathen bastard ye." Hector rebutted, then laughed along with the others, knowing Iain was telling the truth and drove his cart happily, already considering it his.

The farmer/warriors made their way slowly along the coast of Duich, travelling over the natural terrain and making for a bumpy ride. They joked of their efforts and success at killing the English, bolstering themselves in bravado, yet each man knew in his heart, he had been spared by the grace of God, that he wasn't one of the five men in the cart.

James MacRae was less than a mile from the rendezvous at the head of Duich, when riders came to him in haste. MacRae halted the procession and waited for their word.

"Laird MacRae," a title James self-imposed for himself, to show more power to his men, "Yer son's birlinn and two others ha'e landed at the head of Duich. He's been hit wi' an arra, but his armour stopped it from going too deep. They're mending him noo. The Justice is under attack as well. We could hear cannon firing echoing doon the loch tae us. At first we thought it was the men setting charges tae clear the road, but these were bigger and more of them, so knew they had tae be cannon fire. Then Blair's birlinn and the others came down tae us and told us what was happening." the rider relayed as fast as he could.

"What of the battle wi' the Justice, is she still afloat? Will they still make it tae Donan?" James asked of them, concerned about the crucial role she played in his plans.

"She's stuck on a sandbar at the island. Blair said a dozen birlinns were attacking her, but they were taking more damage than they were doing. I was told tae make sure ye knew MacDonald's birlinn was damaged heavily and three others ha'e been damaged or sunk.

The captain has used some things on them, that has made them scared tae come too close tae them. What word shall I bring tae Blair, m' Laird?"

"I'll ride back wi' ye myself." he told the riders. "I'll meet ye's at the head and go from there." MacRae told the captains and rode off with the two riders back along the glen.

No sooner had the trio of riders rounded the corner of the foothill out of sight, when the stench of skunk started filling the air. The men started to cover their noses from the vile odour, but it seemed to keep getting stronger the further they went on. When the horses started to react and try to back away from the smell, the procession became disorderly and confusion began. Now acting on their instinct for survival, the horses ran from the scene, regardless of the riders commands to halt. Chaos reigned everywhere, as riders tried to get their mounts under control and men ran from the scene to breathe fresher air. Captain Lockstone ordered his men to fire at the animals and drive them away, but the small, furry attackers darted into the thicker underbrush, hiding out of sight. On and on the disgusting odour had the men retching and gasping, as the skunks continued their airborne assault.

The sound of confusion and panic echoed along the mountain passes to the south and west, getting picked up by the group of riders making their way towards them. The riders from the birlinn had made their way along the easiest route towards Duich, only to find themselves confronted with Sgurr Mhic Bharraich, rising over twenty five hundred feet in the air beside them. They began riding along the steep slope, picking their way through the trees, until Gordon MacDonald called an immediate halt and stopped for two reasons. The first was the steep drop off of the mountain side, too steep for the highland ponies to traverse, the other was the sight of three birlinns on the coast and a throng of men a little further inland by the river's edge. Knowing they had stumbled upon the advancing forces, they quickly decided to head back and make their way around the sgurr and through the quickest route.

As they crested the ridge and started to make their way back, the last riders spotted Lieutenant Handley and his platoon of Pioneers returning to the bivouac area. They called the others back to make a decision to attack them or not. Glendon MacDonald made the decision that made the most sense and let them return and not give themselves away to the others. Knowing Robert and the men were coming from the south passage and up Glen Sheil, the choice was clear to try and meet up with them, so they rode back down the way they came. They followed the winding bern and then swung around the soaring peak, riding up the slope on an angle, cutting off as much distance as they could. They came into a valley between two ridged peaks and followed it east, hoping it came out close to where the men were staging.

The sounds of panic and disruption echoed off the slopes to them, causing them to pull up and stop. Glendon urged his highland pony to scale the steep slope, until he was near the summit. He dismounted and ducked down, before peering over the ridge to the valley below and the source of the turmoil. Glendon looked on in wonderment at the scene before him, wondering what could have caused half the formation to break apart and scatter the way they did. He turned to the far end of the glen and saw the first riders coming through and knew Robert and his men would ride into danger, before they knew what awaited them. Judging the distance to be over four miles away, he turned and whistled a bird-like signal to the men. He motioned for them to join him where he was and soon, sixty riders were making their way up to the plateau ridge, then on towards the oncoming riders.