Iain saw his men following MacRae towards the shore and broke from cover. Screaming as loud as he could and waving his arms, he hoped his brother, or one of the others would hear or see him. Grayson joined him, both waving their arms and yelling the MacLean motto and then more voices joined in.
Stuart MacLean was riding with his clansmen in the last half of the charge, when his arm was pulled by one of his men and told to turn and look at the two men on the battlefield. Iain was instantly recognizable to him, but confusion took him, as to why he was with Grayson and they were yelling their clan oath. He watched him closer and saw that Iain was giving him a signal. He knew what Iain wanted him to do, but didn't trust what he saw under the circumstances. Noticing more MacLean tartans engaged in battle with MacRae's cavalry, he fought his doubts and heeded the signal given by his brother.
Giving the command to break away, he and his men, along with a few members of the other clans, rode in front of the pits and on towards Iain and Grayson. The echoes of their oath were still ringing out from men positioned around them, further confusing them.
MacRae and Rennie were unaware of the diversion and continued their charge for the opening along the shoreline, their force cut close to half by the loss of the MacLean's. Stuart halted quickly in front of Iain and looked desperately for an answer from him.
"We're wi' the MacDonald's now, Stuart. No time tae explain why, just know that MacRae is going tae lose this battle and we'll ne'er set foot in a castle or lands if we stay wi' him. We lost at Tioram and the same is happening here. Rid yer ranks of those of other clans wi' ye. When ye ha'e, ride back like ye's are still wi' them. When the attack begins, do yer best tae keep them from escaping" Iain instructed his brother.
As word spread of the defection, men were soon engaged in combat. The MacDougall's and Douglas' that were once fast allies, were soon at each other as mortal enemies. It wasn't long before all objectors were slain and the new alliance of men were ready to fight against the opposition. Stuart led them away, but hearts weren't resting easy with the change.
Waiting in the treeline was Sloan Fraser, along with his men, watching the men who slaughtered his family and clan, slaughter yet another in their quest for power. The tense mood heightened with each yard that was closed, as memories of their slain, remained vivid in their minds.
Stuart MacLean had been at the Falls of Lora massacre, Sloan remembered him standing beside his brother, Iain, the bodies of his clansmen subjected to the Blood Eagle, hanging from the trees around them. In his heart, he held the MacLean's accountable for his clan's deaths and only their own deaths would be equal repayment for justice.
Stuart saw the looks on the faces of the Fraser clan as he passed them and felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. This was a secret fear he had held since that day, that retribution for his acts would come to him one day and this, was now that day. He rode past them and felt the weight of burden for his deeds, sit heavy in his heart.
MacRae felt a moment of triumph, as he and his men joined the fray with the heavy cavalry and held the defenders back, giving the foot soldiers a clear path to the castle.
The Pioneers were towing the siege equipment behind their horses, slowing them down from the second wave, but fate was on their side and they too, made it past and on to their objective. The foot soldiers now rounded the last point and began charging for the castle. On past their cavalry, the men closed on Donan and readied for an attack.
Peadair saw the charge coming and had his archers prepare for them. Flamers were readied for the siege attempt and the plan Grayson had suggested. MacRae and Rennie had the men assemble around them, the orders for the attack given quickly, as the Pioneers unhooked the carts and positioned them at the ready.
The siege carts, thick wooden shields on two wheels, were large enough for four archers to take cover behind and fire through the vertical slits. Dorlochis were attached to it, filled with arrows for rapid attack. Slowly the first one was pushed forward and onto the bridge, followed closely behind by the second and third carts, the slippery oil making it hard to gain a foothold for traction.. Archers fired on them, hoping to catch an unguarded man. MacRae divided his attention between the raging battle behind him and the men crossing the bridge. His hopes of winning felt good to him, as he saw the cavalry continue to battle Garreth and his men, keeping them from him and the attack as planned.
Arrows flew from the castle battlements at the attackers, keeping them under cover behind their shield. Peadair waited until all three carts were past the bridge and put into position. Arrows began whistling at him and his men, keeping them under cover, just as he hoped. Seeing the time was right, soldiers began running over the bridge with ladders, followed by the main force. At the decisive moment, Peadair yelled out to the archers and flamers soared over the walls and landed on the bridge, lighting ablaze the oil covering it.
Men were instantly engulfed with flames, diving from the bridge into the shallow water to extinguish the agonizing pain of being burned alive. Others ran back into the mass of men behind still pushing forward, lighting them up in the conflagration. MacRae watched in horror, as a hundred men perished in flames before his eyes. It wasn't long before the smell of burnt flesh permeated the air and wafted to him, adding to his misery. The bridge was engulfed in flames and mayhem, stranding the archers behind their shields. MacRae watched, as forty plus men rushed from the shattered castle gate, blades ready to strike. The archers were at a loss to fire on them, the angle of the shields preventing them a chance to fire on the approaching wave of death. Quickly, the men behind each shield abandoned their protection and ran for the water in an attempt to escape. None touched a foot to the water, as they were overrun and set upon by blades.
A tremendous roar of victory rose from the men in the castle, as they looked at the dead and dying on the bridge and the chance of another attack defeated. From the starboard rails of the Ville de Lyon, Arabella and Therese, along with Princess Margret and the French, watched the battle unfold and the attack thwarted. Therese struggled to see where Garreth was in the melee, wanting to assure herself he was still alive, while Arabella tore her attention in two, looking for Grayson and also Braedon, somewhere amidst the flailing blades of the battle with the cavalry, as thick, black smoke rose in a column from the bridge and drifted towards the battle.
MacRae suddenly felt the anguish of loss take him, as he saw his forces decimated and his chance at reclaiming Donan, once again within his grasp, snatched away in defeat. Unbridled rage surged through him and vengeance was now his only motivator to go on.
