Blood of the Clans Ch. 32

The fifteen men carried one hundred and twelve souls up the hill, exhausting themselves physically and mentally, their emotions wreaking their souls immeasurably to look at each and every slain member. The bodies were lain in order of placement on the pyre, men at the bottom, women above them and children atop. When the last members were placed, they turned and made their way down the slope and boarded the birlinns again, making their way back to pick up the five men and twenty horses.

Eyes were peeled for sails on the water, as they sailed around the point once more and made their way along the south coast of Lismore. Once they passed by two small islands, they were in line with the point where the men would be and turned towards them. The two miles between them were fraught with worry of being spotted by anyone who might recognize them and alert MacRae. The winds favoured them with a hastened journey, making the distance in minutes, as they came around the point and sailed into the four hundred foot long inlet.

The rocky coast sloped away enough that the birlinns could pull tight to the shore, but allowed the horses to step down into the birlinns. The animals brayed and skitted about, as they made their way over the cross benches and were tethered in place. The men calmed the horses down and soon the boats were rowed back out and sails set to catch the wind. The snapping of the sails had the horses frightened and moving about, as the boats started rocking in the water, making the men worry if they would make it across.

It took all they had, to keep all the animals calm and then lowered the sails. To spare everyone's lives, they rowed the rest of the distance, despite the good winds they had.

They made the coast of Lismore and hugged it closely, hoping to blend against the background of land. As they came to the end, an area of raised, flat land along the coast, afforded them the best place to get the horses out. One at a time the birlinns pulled up to the coast and two men held the bow and aft lines taut on shore, as the others untied the horses and had them make their way onto the land. Sloan and several others stayed with the horses, as the birlinns were sailed around the point and tied up where they were before.

The men hiked back around the point and met up with the others, mounting their horses and riding towards the forested area close by. Large, dead trees lay scattered about from the storm that ripped through the area days before. The men set about gathering them in, making a pile of them. They cut the roots and branches away with Claymores and battle axes, shaping them for transport and construction. Sloan knew it would take a great many trees and branches to construct what he saw in his mind. He knew they could never carry the trees up the slope from this side, even though it wasn't as steep a grade. He had Kenneth ride back with Duncan and retrieve all the loose rope they could find on the birlinns.

Shortly, the two were back with plenty of hemp rope in different lengths, laying them on the ground by the trees. Quickly, the men fashioned harnesses around the horses and trailed tow lines back from them. Trees were tied on and the horses began pulling them up to their destination, Slowly the process went, as more and more trees were brought up to the site and men started laying them out, as Sloan instructed them to. The large square was laid out and branches laid across them, strong enough to support the weight of the men's bodies. They were layered with dried branches and kindling and then pine boughs cut down and laid on top.

When the first tier was complete, the men started to pick up the men and laid them out, placing their arms over their chests and keeping them close together. When it was filled, they started on the second tier and made another level of branches and pine boughs. The men worked tirelessly, despite the exhaustion, completing the level and laying out the rest of the men. Brennan laid the body of his son, Colin, with the men, knowing in his heart he had died like one. It tore at him to have to take his hands away from him and never lay eyes on him again. Sloan helped him rise and stood with him for a moment, before he helped him climb down. They all descended the growing tower and looked at it, resting while more trees and branches were brought up.

The fading light of day, didn't hinder the men's efforts, as they continued gathering and transporting material to the site. One by one the tiers were erected and layered with the bodies of the women next. Weeping was commonplace among the men, none able to look at them and not feel great pain in their hearts at their suffering. Once the last woman was lain atop the pyre, sixteen bodies remained. They made one last tier and used the softest of materials they had. The men looked at the small, lifeless bodies of the children, none more then twelve, the youngest being the unborn child of Maglyn Fraser, still attached to her and both wrapped in a blanket to spare the men the sight of what MacRae had done to them. She would be laid in the centre, the children placed around her.

Once the final tier was made, the men raised the bodies of the children on their shoulders and climbed their way up to the top. One by one the bodies were carefully placed, men grieving openly for their loved ones. Sloan carried up the wrapped baby and mother on his shoulder and placed it in the centre of the pyre, giving his wife and child a great place of honour in the clan. Slowly the men climbed down, looking at the layers of men and women as they transcended.

Darkness was upon the site, so the men made a small fire and sat by it as they watched the flames. Silence was heavier than the air and sat around them like a shroud, as each man sat reflecting to himself. Sloan searched for words inside himself, ones he hoped could bring a peace to the men's hearts, but none were to be found. His own heart was rending itself into numerous pieces, as he remembered each and every soul that was laid atop the pyre. He hoped their farewell would lead the way to getting their minds and his changed and set for what was to come. Grief and loss aside, he knew they had to ready themselves to face the next leg of their journey. Talking to Laird Braedon Stewart and convincing him to accept their allegiance.

Sloan finally made the order to ready torches and twenty men lit the night sky with flames. They walked to the pyre, standing close to twelve feet in height, in six tiers and circled around it. Through the crackling of flames, Sloan spoke out his love of his people, his sorrow and sadness and his oath to avenge their massacre. He gave hope to his men that their lives weren't taken in vain, that they would live on. Once he finished, he stepped forward and held his flames to the wood. Shortly after, all the men had their torches lighting the wood on fire, the flames catching the dried kindling and pine boughs and sparking the fire to catch.

Slowly the flames rose, catching the next layer above it on fire. In minutes, the heat had intensified and drove the men back, as it burst into a roaring inferno. The flames rushed higher and higher, until they passed the top and curled with the rising heat. Sloan led his men away from the site and back to their camp. The fire lit up the area as bright as day and Sloan knew it was being seen on the mainland by the MacDougall's and any others

along the coast. All the surrounding area would be able to see the display, as the light penetrated the darkness for miles.

As they watched the flames consume the structure, four men approached cautiously from behind them. They were unarmed and curious as to the nature of the display. They came within twenty feet of the men watching the fire and stood behind bushes watching them. Before they had a chance to do anything, two Claymores were pointing at their backs. The two guards had watched them approach and came upon them when they stopped.

"State yer purpose." was all that was said by Grahame Fraser.

The older one spoke to the guards in reply. "We came tae see what the fire was aboot. I ha'e a farm along the way." the older man pointing back in the direction, "These are my boys and we came tae see what was causing it." he told them.

Grahame motioned for them to go to the other Fraser's, following with points aimed at their backs. Grahame called out to Sloan, who looked at the men approaching.

"Who are these men?" Sloan asked him.

"Farmers, from o'er there, they said." he replied, pointing himself in the direction he was given.

Sloan looked at the four men and could see the resemblance between them and knew them to be family. He came to the older one and looked him over.

"What's yer name?" he asked the old man.

"Glendon Fraser and these are my sons, Glenn, my oldest, Blair, my second and Sinclair, my youngest." he told him, pointing out each.

"A Fraser? Yer a Fraser ye say? Then yer among kith and kin. We're all Fraser's here. I'm Sloan Fraser, son of McCauley Fraser and Chieftain of these men." he told him, holding out his hand to him.

Glendon looked at the young man before him and hesitantly took his wrist and shook with him. He looked about at the men and then back to Sloan.

"Do ye know Manus Fraser, son of Machlan Fraser? He's my cousin." Glendon asked, wondering about the relation.

"Aye, I know Manus. He was a good man and I'll miss him greatly." Sloan told him, as he turned to look at the fire.

"What's that fire all aboot, Sloan?" Glendon asked, noting the attention it received from everyone.

Sloan looked at him and then his sons, before telling him.

"It's oor clan, Glendon. James MacRae and his men slaughtered the entire village. We came here tae send their souls off and hide from MacRae. There's hundred and twelve souls in there, including Manus. Men, women and children, he slaughtered everyone and did it in the most brutal way he could." Sloan informed him, seeing him look at the pyre as he spoke, knowing now what was burning.

"And how did ye's no get caught?" Glendon asked, wondering the obvious.

"We were away hunting when they came. We had just come back and stood and watched as they did it and we could'ne do anything tae stop them. They had three hundred men, tae oor twenty, so we did'ne stand a chance of doing anything, but dying wi' oor clan." Sloan lied, keeping their innocence of their acts.

"Why did they do that?" Glendon had to ask next.

MacRae wants tae build an army of clans and attack castles and take them o'er. My father was asked tae join and they killed him fer saying no. We thought nothing more tae be done aboot it, until we came back and found them slaughtering oor people. Noo there's only the twenty of us left, but we want oor revenge on MacRae, as well as the Douglas, MacLean and MacDougall clans that side wi' him." Sloan told him, keeping the flow of lies coming.

Sloan started to enjoy telling the lies, as he got a feel for how he'd have to do it later, when he talked to Braedon Stewart. He knew he had to be convincing in what he said for Braedon to believe him. Glendon was accepting his story. Without anyone denying it, he had no choice but to believe everything he was told.

"We're going tae pay oor respects tae oor dead and then go tae Castle Stalker and see Laird Braedon Stewart. He needs tae know that he will come under attack from MacRae and we hope tae join wi' him and fight against MacRae and his clans." Sloan told Glendon with assurance, all spoken was the truth.

"Where are ye's camped? Here?" Glendon asked Sloan, looking about at the men around him.

"We ha'e no where else, Glendon. Until we at least ha'e oor justice served on MacRae. We ha'e no where tae call home, but the stars above oor heads, until we do. So, I welcome ye tae the Fraser's camp, Glendon." Sloan told him, hoping the tale evoked some bond between them.

"When are ye going tae see Laird Braedon?" Glendon asked.

"In the morrow. We ha'e tae be away from here soon. That fire will attract attention and ha'e people coming tae look. We can'ne be here when they do come. We're in no state tae fight yet, as ye can see. So we'll sail tae him as soon as we can." Sloan told him, not realizing an important part was exposed.

"Ye's are sailing there? Hoo are ye getting there?" Glendon asked innocently.

Sloan realized his err and came clean to Glenn.

"When we saw what they did to oor clan, we took their birlinns and came here tae hide them. When I saw the point, I knew it was where we had tae send the souls of oor people off. Noo we ha'e twenty horses, four birlinns and twenty men and no place tae call home anymore."

Glendon looked at Sloan and then the rest of the men.

"If yer Fraser's, then yer kin tae me. Oor farm is just o'er the hills there." Glendon told him pointing towards his farm. "Ye can find shelter there, till ye go tae see the Stewart's."

"My thanks tae ye, Glendon. Do ye ha'e anywhere we can hide oor birlinns? They're no safe where they are, they can be seen easy enough by passing boats." Sloan asked him, hoping he could secure them in a better place.

"Aye, there's a wee inlet close tae us that'll do. Ha'e yer men sail them aroond the point and doon the coast. They'll see the inlet just o'er there." Glendon told him, pointing to where the inlet would be.

Sloan looked at the pyre, proud in his achievement to send his clan off with a respectful tribute. He turned to his men and sent all but four to retrieve the birlinns and gave the directions Glendon had given him. The men were off in haste, wasting no time in getting there. Sloan and the others, along with Glendon and his sons, walked the horses back to the Fraser's farm. As they walked along the coast, the birlinns sailed past quietly, making for the inlet.

"Where the dense trees are." Glendon shouted out to them, pointing to an area further down.

"Hoo long ha'e had the farm, Glendon?" Sloan asked, making small talk to get to know his kin better.

"It's been in oor family o'er a hundred years noo. God willing, it'll be in oor family another hundred." Glendon told him, his pretences of trouble looming, coming out.

"Why do ye say that, Glendon?" Sloan wondered.

"Wi' all the goin's on, I know something is coming. I've felt it in my bones. Mark my words, Sloan, bad tidings will fall upon the clans soon. Ye may think I'm a daft old man, but I read it in the flames of the fire just noo again." Glendon told him, looking to see a re-action from him.

"Again?" Sloan queried him.

"Aye. A for'night ago I saw it in the flames of my own hearth. Saw trouble brewing in the coals. Saw great deaths and lands taken o'er." he told Sloan, confident in the words he spoke.

Sloan heard the truth in his words. Knew in his heart that this man did indeed see the future. He studied him casually, measuring him, feeling him out.

"What else ha'e ye seen, Glendon? Death and battles wi' who? Do ye know?" he asked, wanting to see the depth of his visions.

"I've seen birlinns, great numbers clashing t'gether. The glens across the way in River Sheil will run wi' blood. Great numbers of men will die. Hundreds and hundreds of them. But I know one thing, there'll be a peace at the end of it. Who they are, that I don'ne know. I do know that the man who leads the attacking force is a large man. A man wi' evil in his heart."

Glendon's account of battles and locations were too precise to write off as the ramblings of a demented, old man and his description of MacRae was as close as anyone could guess at him. His curiosity was peaking in wanting to sit this night and listen to the telling of premonitions and portends.

As they reached the stable, the horses were unbridled and allowed to go freely within the paddock. Glendon's work horses were skittish around the highland ponies that joined them at first, but settled down and allowed the new-comers to be near them. They closed the gate and watched the men walking up from the coast, after secreting the birlinns into the inlet.

It was the look on Keith's face that had Sloan concerned, as he approached. Keith looked at Sloan and then to Glendon, once he was with them. Glendon looked back at Keith, wondering why he looked at him the way he did.

"Hoo do ye come tae ha'e three birlinns, Glendon?" Keith asked, knowing the impossibility of a farmer owning one birlinn, let alone three.

"Three birlinns? I don't ha'e a birlinn, let alone three. Ne'er been on the water more than twice in my life." Glendon replied, his confusion to Keith's statement showing on his face and in his eyes.

"What birlinns, Keith?" Sloan asked him.

"We brought the boats intae the inlet, like he said and foond three birlinns already there, co'ered o'er wi' branches." Keith told him.

Sloan looked at Keith and then back to Glendon, looking for a reason they were there.

"Ye don't know aboot they birlinns Keith is talking aboot, Glendon?"

"No, I don'ne know what he's talking aboot. Ask my sons, ask anyone aroond here. I've ne'er owned a birlinn, or wanted one fer that matter. I'm a farmer, Sloan, no a fisherman. I ha'e no use fer one, let alone three. I would ha'e said something when I told ye's tae put yer's there." Glendon stated to him

Sloan saw the truth in Glendon's eyes and looked back at Keith.

"Show me, Keith. Come wi' us, Glendon, ye'll need tae see them fer yerself. If they're there, I need tae know why they're there and if ye ha'e anything tae do wi' them being there." Sloan told Glendon, a hint of threatening tone in his voice.

"Sloan, as a Fraser tae a Fraser, I swear tae ye, I know nothing aboot any birlinns." Glendon responded, his own tone becoming one of a defensive nature, but still the strength of conviction in his words.

Sloan looked at him closely, studying his eyes and his face. He looked at Glendon's sons and studied their eyes and faces too, looking for a sign they had been caught. None gave even the merest of signs that they were lying. Sloan had Keith lead them back towards the coast, the half mile walk made in silence, each reflecting in their minds how this event might change things between them.

Once they made the end of the farmed land, a dense area of tall, scrub bush and trees marked the start of the inlet. Keith walked along it, their three birlinns moored as close up as they could be brought. He stopped short of them and pulled at branches, bringing them away from the boats behind them. Glendon looked at them, as did his son's, then turned to Sloan in immediate defence.

"I've ne'er seen those before, Sloan, I swear. I ne'er e'en knew they were there, till the noo." Glendon stated honestly.

Sloan looked at him and knew from his eyes he was being honest. He looked back at the exposed part of the birlinn and his mind took hold of a thought.

"Clear this away." he shouted out to his men.

Quickly branches and limbs were cleared away, exposing all three craft that were hidden. Sloan and his men looked at them and knew immediately who these boats belonged to. Sloan took hold of the situation, not wanting to give away any more of their involvement with MacRae.

"I've seen these boats before. They were being sailed by the MacDougall, MacLean and Douglas clans. Blain, Keith, Brennan and Duncan were wi' me when we saw them. The night they came tae talk tae my father, McCauley, they were sailing these boats. What are they doing here, though?"

Sloan's men drew upon his story and knew what he was doing. They started following his lead and confirmed their part of it. Glendon looked at Sloan with confused worry coming across his face. Sloan saw the situation was diffused and an alibi established for them, but now looked at Glendon.

"That's the clans I just told ye aboot. The ones that came wi' MacRae and killed my father. They're also the ones who just killed my clan. When I go tae see the Stewart's the morrow, I'll be able tae tell him I ha'e ten birlinns under my command that I'm ready tae sail. Those bastards won't be using these tae raid wi' anymore. Do ye ha'e anything tae do wi' those being here, Glendon? Tell me the truth, as clan and kin."