Red Lines: The Final Frontier - Trotternish

[Lord Eamonn of Eohmark]

LAYING OUT THE SCENE...


The Outline
i. The last pocket of resistance and remaining militia retreated to the Quiraing/Eohmark area for regrouping
a.) remaining militia from previous battles rendezvous at last group sanctuary
b.) remaining clan leaders pull all existing resources for an attempt to turn Quiraing/Eohmark into a secret base camp

ii. Word of last location of the remaining militia gets to the Griffin Court
a.) scout reports tracks leading toward Quiraing/Eohmark
b.) scout sent to confirm the rebel occupants and possible camp in Quiraing
c.) decision to strike Quiraing/Eohmark is given

iii. Eamonn takes the Éoredgerídas (his company of riders) and marches toward Quiraing/Eohmark
a.) Éoredgerídas summoned and suited for final battle
b.) Eamonn marches for Quiraing/Eohmark; riding all day and resting at night
c.) help from the natives is given to the company to get to Quiraing/Eohmark faster with shortcuts
d.) Éoredgerídas arrive at Quiraing/Eohmark

iv. Skirmish in Quiraing/Eohmark breaks out with guerilla warfare tactics
a.) rebel scouts spots and hear the company and assume positions about the rocks and ridges
b.) first attack by wave of arrows from rebel archers - battle begun
c.) skirmish in Quiraing; lasts day and night
d.) guerilla tactics used by rebels to surprise Eamonn and his Éoredgerídas - result is bloody

v. Battle Ends in Skye victory
a.) by morning of next day, battle ends with mass casualties on rebel side and moderate on Skye.
b.) those remaining surrendered and are captured
c.) prisoners tried and executed
d.) end revolt against Clans



The Premise..
Having already three failed attempts to overthrow the governing body of Skye, the last of the warring clans retreated to the Quiraing in Trotternish Ridge (which Eohmark was its former name) where the remaining base camp resided. While the rest of the surviving militia was not as large as before, now that forces have been combined to form a last resistance. Quiraing/Eohmark became an ideal location due to the series of pinnacles formed by landslips over time as well as the hills, cliffs, and plateaus that make the secretive base camp not so easy to attack. With what funds they have left, frantic clansman prepare for a last siege attack, having hopes of bringing a last, bloody war to the castle of Skye and end this war of civil matters violently and abruptly. However, they did not count on a pair of eyes catching a glimpse of their plans and escaping through the Quiraing/Eohmark and heading with all haste back to Skye's capital city: Turas Lan. Who would have suspected the unfathomed scout was a villager who dwelt near Quiraing/Eohmark, a villager who was residing in the lands of Eohmark the lands of the Lord Marshal. Now the reasons for the Horse Lord's location was clear, and he was not alone in his decision for a prime spot when it came to base camps because of the ridges and defensible landscape Quiraing/Eohmark offered. To put things in better perspective, the last location of the rebels remained only a few miles from the establishment of Quiraing/Eohmark, but the rebels did not have the means to attack...yet. Such began the shift in attention. Once the clans leaders knew of the newly established Quiraing/Eohmark, their plans to attack Turas Lan shifted to a closer target.

This news did not sit will with the Lord Marshal, for he knew just how close they could be to his new home, and how disastrous it could prove should Eohmark fall. So, in hopes of countering the clans before they could launch their assault on Quiraing/Eohmark, Eamonn gathered his large company of horseman, the Éoredgerídas, and make haste toward Quiraing/Eohmark. It was the Marshal's hope to interfere with the enemy's plans and preparations before they would become too strong and make the battle even more deadly and disastrous. And so the army moved out, traveling all day and resting at night, rising at dawn and pausing when travel was impossible at night. Thanks to the aid of the natives in Skye, who knew the landscape better than anyone, a few routes of shortcuts were taken, aiding in the swiftness that they would reach Quiraing/Eohmark as quickly as possible. Fear and pressure was placed upon the clans as their own scouts learned of the approaching army of the Lord Marshal. This untimely appearance suddenly halted their plans of offense and turned them to plans of defense. The only way to take down the large calvary company was by guerilla war tactics, which was going to make this last resistance a most bloody act. Archers hide in the peaks and pinnacles, traps of spikes were made and covered with moss, rocked covered with straw were soaked in oil to be ready for launch. And so it would be when the army came, much of it would be devastated by these traps and could be quickly extinguished. So it were, the Lord Marshal and his company were walking into a death trap, a desperate attempt by the clans leaders and militia to oppose the Court of Skye.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Eamonn: There was a great necessity for all haste to the lands of Eohmark, for it was personal as well as objective. Firstly, his daughter was in the safety of his home in the Eohmark, but if the militia was given time to build, he was more than certain that a siege would be launched upon his home, and with the force that he had, and hte majority of his company with him, they would not be able to keep them at bay. So, by word of messenger and royal degree of the Lord and Lady, it was off to Eohmark with all haste. Footmen had to be left behind, sadly, as well as the foot archers. The speed of the horse was called upon to reach the lands of the North before the resistance could gather greater strength. Such is why the Lord Marshal encouraged his riders to have knowledge of more than a principle weapon. Packed upon his steed was a quiver, filled with sharp and keen arrows, and beside it was strapped the bow. His sword was sheathed with the leather scabbard belted around his waist, and in his gloved hand remained a long, sharp, and pointed spear to gleam in the light of morning. The white horse tail plume whipped in the wind as they cantered onward toward the hilly, and rocky terrain. Hazel eyes glanced to the Lady of Eohmark beside him. "When we reach the hills, I want you to fall back to behind the army. I have horsemen that will protect and escort you. NO discussion on this Aislin, please. I know not what will happen, but I do know they it will be treacherous and gruesome. We will have need of your skilled hands of healing." He said pointly. Then, his gaze turned to his second in comand. "Cormack, take part of the horseman and go right when we reach Eohmark. Kaelyn, take your company left. We split up, for this will not be an open skirmish, I fear. The rest will follow me in the vanguard." The Marshal commanded.

Aislin: Aislin's head was feeling much better after some much needed rest. Battle, was something her body was not use to, so the period inside her husband's tent helped. Aislin was going to bid by her husband's words and stay at the camp, but that all changed when the news came to her and her husband as they finally emerged from their tent. Already dressed, she was quick to head towards Echo and mount up, following besides her husband, listening to all words being said before they were talking with the Duchess and Duke, then heading towards home. Aislin had informed her husband that was where their child not waited for their return and while their were men left behind..she wanted to get to her quickly just in case. It was why she now road to the front with her husband. Echo's hooves echoed on the hard ground below them as they moved quickly, making haste to get across the lands. Wind made it slightly hard to hear much of what was said, but her husband had experience talking over the sounds of hooves and winds. A curt nod was given to him as they cantered on towards the hills. " Aye...ah'll go now." She was not going to fight him on this. He had more experience. Grabbing hold of the reins, she turned Echo around and headed behind the army to the back end..riding down past others in the opposite direction.

Kaelyn: ** Kae had Maggie one of the healers that had come with her knight's from Argania bind her broken ribs tighter, she walked to where her armour lay upon the bed in her tent. She ran her fingers over the symbol of her homeland, then began to don it hopefully for th elast time for a long long while. Once done she grabbed her sword and belted it around her waist, she reached for her bow and quiver and then left her tent. SHe looked at the men that were there ready themselves for abttle once more. She gave them a nod and spoke quietly to a few as she passed making her way to where her shadow knight's waited with her cousin Rhys. Raven held the reins of her large vlack warhorse Baran, taking the reins in her gloved hand she mounted him with ease. "We ride to meet the Lord Marshal! Move out with all haste!" she called a sshe urged Baran into a run. Once with Eamonn anad given her instructions to take her men to the left of him and his without a word they split off and formed a tight 'V' formation as they rode off. Turning in her saddle she looked at her men and hoped for the best in this battle. All were excellent horsemen as well as archers able to fight on the backs of their mounts as well as on the ground. SHe looked once more to the front and nodded to Raven to take the lead of their forty plus men. Only a dozen rode in the front.**



Beathag: In the tent of the Duke and Duchess, the flaps had been drawn against onlookers as they talked of the serious and the sweet in the moments before the pronoucement of the next battle came to be heard by all. Where else could the resistance go? Their supply lines had been cut, the large contingent of allied clans were strewn out in broken pieces to the peoples that once feared them.

Adam: "Nay...let me put her in her armor, as she has done tae me." The Griffin Lord lifted his hand, only missing their gauntles in order to be free for this task. To some it was strange, that a man would attire his wife as such to meet the dawn, but between them there was no greater sign of love than accepting who the other was..

Beathag: "Ye will be the reason m'weapon is raised,"
Adam:"Why the banner lifts.."
Beathag:"The sun o'er the mornin' of destiny.."
Adam:"My reason for glory n' all things."

Beathag: She kept her silence to hold close the last words spoken to her by Adam and to listen to the Lord Marshal's commands. She gripped onto Caldonhan's reigns before settling her helm into place upon her golden head.The terrain of rocks, craigs, and steep inclines would make it a necessity. (d)

Raven: Raven rode beside Kae upon the back of Jester. The two moved together as one. When Kae looked his way he nodded his face serious in the face of what they rode into. Inwardly he worried over her internal injuries knowing that though she hid them well she was in pain with every step her horse took. She was as stubborn as he though and in the end he had no choice but to let her go. It was who she was and who was he to argue with that, it was part ofwhy he loved her as he did. He vowed silently to stay at her side tomake sure she was protected. He took the lead when she asked and slid forward some Rhys, Pagan, and Phantom following his lead. The pounding of so many hoovesshook the ground as they made haste. (d)

Eamonn: Eamonn was all too glad that his wife did not fight him on this matter, for he knew that men in desparation would do some of the most unthinkable things, and he did not want her to be in the fray of battle again. In part, it was fortunate that her presence was accounted for. There would be need of her, there Eamonn had no doubt. The Lord Marshal had been in countless guerilla fights, and knowing the enemy had the upper hand as far as knowing terrain meant, they would have to be extra careful, least they be taken asunder. As they neared the landscape of hills, cliffs, and pinnacles, Eamonn slowed his horse down, green eyes keeping a watch and sweeping the horizon beyond. "Be sharp." He reminded his riders. Thus far, the lands were quiet...too quiet. Eamonn narrowed his eyes under the helm and his hand gripped the reins a bit tighter, as well as the spear held within his curled fingers. However many had gathered within the lands were hiding. But that strange sensation of being watched washed over him, and every muscled under the layers of arm tensed. Eamonn sensed an ambush, but to what extent would be revealed soon enough.

Aislin: The pounding of hooves did not stop until she reached the very end of the line and moved around behind every one else. Moments later, selected men moved down and circled around her, one on each side and one behind her so her and Echo were boxed in. Echo threw her head silently and neighed towards the other horses before trotting along. Aislin's arm hurt, but she was not going to complian. Eyes drifted to the men by her side from under her straw hat and then to the hills around them before looking to those in front of her. Eamonn slowly down made the whole line do the same so everyone was going the same pace.

Beathag: Green eyes combed over the landscape of the same coloring, peppered with breakings of rocks, rises, and places that hid the enemy. When Caldonhan had been made ready by his attendants, she bid them not drape him in formality, but to put on his armor so as to blend in amidst the others. It was to be an approach where no side sought to be distinguished right away from the other. For now, no arrow stired from the quiver, or sword drawn out. No axe caught the light broken over the rise to find a higher point in the sky now. "Do nay lose focus," she whispered to those near her, if for an instant they became too comfortable in the idea they were alone for now. It felt as if the land were pregnant underfoot, just waiting to birth the hiding wickedness. (d)

Raven: Raven's hand lifted two fingers held up for his men to see. They instantly slowed as the cliffs came into view. He frowned and shifted upon the back of his stallion edging him closer to Kae as if to speak to her. All became silent save for the snorting of the horses and the thud of their hooves. His body was tense as were those of the others. He felt Kae tense beside him felt her anxiousness as if it were his own. They all sinced it and suddenly it turned into the waiting game and he wondered if those that hid were as aware of their reactions as they were of their presence. (d)


Eamonn: Having many years of servitude in the army under his belt, there were a few things that could be gained and calculated when discerning war. The absence of activity concerned him. The hushed tones of not only mundane activity, but the silence of wilderness. No birds. No game. Eamonn frowned. TWANG! An arrow went flying high into the air like a shooting star to stream across the sky. A signal. Archers popped up, showing themselves from their perch upon the summit of ledges, rocks, and hills. Arrows were let loose in a cross fire. Horses whined and neighed as their riders were struck and reeled backwards before hitting the ground. CRACK. A loud scream from a horse falling through a covered trapped echoed. "SPREAD OUT! WATCH FOR TRAPS!" Eamonn shouted. A sudden loud war cry pierced the air as the resistance came, men with weapons of all sorts. Madness. Pure madness. Raising his spear, he thrusted it forward, impaling a footman through the chest. The buzz of arrows whirled around his head. Snatching the spear out of the man, Eamonn whirled around, Finbar whining and lashing out with sharpened horse shoes, kicking those that ventured too close. "LOOK TO THE RIDGES! ARCHERS!" He cried out, picking up that spear again and turning his focus upon an archer on one of the many ridges. With a mighty heave, the long spear was given wings and soared, striking its target.

Aislin: Oceanic eyes continued to move around the lands as she was taught. Once or twice they paused on a certain area though nothing was really seen at current. Her right hand moved to the back of her neck and rubbed softly. Too far at the end of the long line of men and horses, she did not know what was going on until the line began to separate and riders went every which way. A horse's cry was heard in the air before her husband's faint call was heard. Aislin grabbed Echo's reins and turned her to the right, the men moving in perfect motion with her, keeping her boxed between the three of them. Chaotic. Aislin paused Echo, seing no reason to move just yet from this distance, arrows could not reach them. The men insisted they move. Move where? There were traps in the ground. Aislin did not have eyes for those things. Archers..Eyes went to the ridges and the bow was pulled back from Echo's rear along with a arrow before she clicked Echo to move forward slowly, not wanting her to fall into a trap. Horses were pushed together to touch skin, making Echo neigh uncomfortably for a moment while shield went up to protect the four of their bodies as Aislin aimed for the closer of the archers and let loose her arrow. TWANG! The archer went down as another arrow was pulled out and they moved as one on the horses to the right

Beathag: One, two, three steps forward before Caldonhan began to tap at the ground anxiously. He wasn't alone. His fellows began to knicker, turn their heads, bodies to opposite directions to alert their riders as the tide of battle turned to them with Eamonn's voice drowning in the twang of arrow, the cry of vagabond men coming down around them. She drew up an arrow and her bow, aiming upward to the source of the rain, beginning to take down an archer to the left, one in the center. No sooner did others find quiver to retaliate than she heard a strange choking, a pulling. THUD! CRASH! Thin lines were lifted up from the ground, sending a group of horses crippling over the tops of their ankles. Bones broke, contourting under ones shining pelts as some scrambled to stand, others lost to be crushed under the weight of horses. Gritting her teeth, she ducked her head, pushing forward to avoid being taken down in the undertow. (d)

Eamonn: The bow was whipped out, and an arrow pulled from the quiver. As the dapple-grey stallion wheeled around, Eamonn fitted the arrow to the string, and while his thighs gripped the sides of his horse as well as feet in the stirrups, holding on while both hands were free of hte reins. He aimed. TWANG! The arrow shot straight and true into another archer on the ridge as the horse cantered, staying mobile in hopes of avoiding being surrounded. A trap was spotted by the keen eyes of the horse, and snorting, the horse changed directions sharply as Eamon drew another arrow from the quiver. Turning his arms and the bow so it pointed behind him, he fired, while green eyes were focused ahead. A scream confirmed his shot as a militia dropped that axe and fell to the ground. His shoulder burned from the arrow wound won in the battle of Sleat, but the Marshal ignored it. He had to. THUD. His body jerked forward as an arrow pierced the chainmail between the back of his shoulder. He winced. The bow was useless to him now as he fitted back into his saddle and pulled out the sword. THUD. Another arrow slammed into lower back, missing his spine, thankfully. Again the blonde man grimanced as he lurched forward. Tugging the reins, he turned around, spotting a footman with a long pike rushing toward one of his riders. Frowning, he charged forward, raising that arm high and bringing the sword down to hack the man's head off. As he passed by more men, they were slashed every which way he could reach them, keeping them away from his horse, and fellow riders. Finbar neighed loudly as the proud beast came to a sudden stop as a net of thorn twined nets went up. Green eyes widened as he held on. Men shouted and Eamonn looked up! Launching himself at the Marshal, the man collided with him and Eamonn wheeled around. Too late. Finbar screamed as he fell over, crashing to the ground and sending long legs kicking. SNAP. SNAP. The Marshal cried out in great pain as arrows were snapped off and dug further into flesh. Rolling to their feet, but the Marshal and the soldier got to their feet, and had a standoff. CLANG. Eamonn parried the strike, then lunged for a blow of his own. Two two battled as the stallion scrambled to his feet. Finbar turned and snorted angrily, before shoving the man with that broad shoulder, giving Eamonn time to slash the soldier across the chest. Sighing, as the man fell down, Eamonn quickly climbed back up onto the back of his steed

Aislin: The next arrow did not fly true and had instead missed it's mark, making Aislin push forward and closer only to be haulted as the man to her right grabbed her reins and yelled out. "HAULT" Aislin had no idea why until he pointed to forward to the ground. A trap. They shifted as one to the side and around the trap. Aislin had to get closer. So many horses were fallen, so many men were trapped under them or fighting by them, not wanting to leave their horse's side. Aislin moved forward once more, having to keep the pace of the men for protection as she rose her bow and aimed, moving faster with her shots. One, two, three. Taking out a archer here and there, for she was no marksman. Footmen started to head their way, making Aislin put the bow back behind her and tuck it on the rump of the saddle before her daggers were unshelthed. She had no choice..she had to fight. two men broke off from her and charged forward to cut off the attack while the man in the back shifted to her right, making sure to watch for traps. Aislin could not fight on the horse...she had to get down or she was open. Eamonn....where was he? Bess...none that she knew personally could be seen. "I can nay fight from my horse..." There was no time to worry on pride as she said that to the man beside her. He looked to Echo and gave a nod..as if understanding. Aislin slid from Echo's back to the ground with a thud before her daggers were placed up. She was not going to run into battle, but should any come to her, she would be ready.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Beathag: Bess had been instructed to ride near Eamonn, to stay in the company of the Vanguard. Instruction paled in comparison to life events. Caldonhan barely avoided the trip wire only to be pushed into a hard press of horseflesh against falling men from above. "Ah!" Reading to the right of the saddle, she pulled out an axe to fit in the left hand, arcing it up to meet the chest of a diving footman. The blade between the clavicle was planted, making her jerk back in order to use her sidebent arm to press the body down. Not yet dead, he met his end with a hoof crushing his skull as the horse carried her to another adversary, and another. Where she sat, it was becoming evident that she would reach a place where she would need to dismount, but for now she rode on the road, over bodies, avoiding pitfalls. Another wave of arrows whistled by, one skimming the surface of unarmored skin, leaving a hot wave before planting into the ground..along with shifting pebbles. Small at first, until the amounts came with soil from beneath the bedrock of the large, hard boulders that made the earth surrounding shake. Men pushed them down onto the riders. "Stones! Stones! Ride round, quick! Tis a Landslide! " (d)

Eamonn: There was the general instruction, and there was natural instruction. What made the two differ? Sometimes, natural instruction outweighed the other, and general instruction was applied when it could be. It was hard to stay together in the middle of chaos. As the tall blonde mounted again, he wheeled around, hoping that his sister was near her husband, and that Aislin was nowhere near this chaos and mayhem. Men began to rush him, spying out the Marshal because of the unique armour he had, and made it their objective to take him down and key on him. A bad side to the difference in armour. Still, it served a purpose so his own men could spot him. A boot was sent into the jaw of another pikeman. The earth shook, and his eyes lifted and turned toward the sounds. Landsides! Not good. Frowning, the sword was brought down once more to cleave a head in two. Finbar whined loudly as he cantered off, not wanting to be surrounded, as the tide seemed to be coming. As he rounded another corner, another man jumped him, except this time landing on the stallion behind him. A thick arm curled around Eamonn's neck as the dagger was raised. Finbar stopped as the two struggled, Eamonn dropping his sword and leaving it to clatter on the ground. A gloved hand tried to pry that arm off as the other grabbed the man's wrist, stopping the dagger from plunging into his neck. The Marshall growled as he wrestled with the man, the blade coming closer to his neck. "..FINBAR! RISE!" He grunted, writhing in the saddle. Finbar snorted, and reared up, causing the large man to fall backwards...only taking Eamonn with him. The blade sliced into the skin of his neck as he fell down, blood felt, but how much?! Finbar turned around and flattened his ears, trying to bite the man that was still trying to choke Eamonn. Somehow, getting the upper hand, Eamonn elbowed the soldier in the face. The man screamed, before Eamonn did it again, feeling bone break under the force. His grip loosened, and Eamonn slipped away, leaving Finbar to stomp on him, crushing his chest with those powerful hooves. When the Marshal got to his feet, his hand went to his neck to feel blood. Wiping it away, he felt it again. A scratch. Barely cutting skin. He was fortunate. Finding his sword, and groaned and clamoured into the saddle of his steed.

Aislin: Staying by Echo's side, the other male stayed on his horse and shifted around to place Aislin inbetween his horse's body and Echo's The two men that road ahead fought off those coming towards them but they were getting out numbered.Aislin readied herself for the spill of men that moved around the two. Echo snorted and moved a bit to the side to get room. When the first man came to close, she reared up, sending her front hooves forward quickly in a kicking motion It distracted the man long enough for Aislin to move forward under the hooves and tackle the man to the ground, only he did not go, she simply ran into him and dug a blade to his shoulder. He cried out and gave Aislin a good head butt to her forehead being of same height, sending her to her stumbling back as her dagger protruded from his shoulder between the armor. A hand rose and she tried to shake it off as he moved forward in a charge. He never got close. A rider came from the right, running the man down with his horse before turning and coming back around. His powerful black stallion rose up onto it's back legs and neighed before slamming hooves into the chest plate, crushing the metal inward to kill the man instantly. Aislin knew the design of the armor. Glendon. To her left another rider came up and asked if she was able to go on. Lochan. The brothers...she remembered. "Aye...but they be needed help." More men were coming and one rider was being pulled from his horse. Aislin ran to the man with the crushed chest plate and grabbed her dagger from him before shelthing one and taking his sheild. She would need it soon she was sure.

Beathag: Roric and Kendrew came from behind, acting as shields around the Lady as the Lord was encompassed by four riders. "Move the Lord n' Lady forward, push them from the landslide n' into thickets if you see them!" Roric's voice was picked up enough to be understood only in small portions. For an instant..one instant..she considered the possible folly of both of them at war. Of them each meeting an end under rocks, arrows. Of Skye left in anarchy -- no, that couldn't be so! All instruction, as stated, was divided between that given prior and that in the heat of the moment. Kendrew pushed his horse against hers, into the side of the hill to avoid the stone falling. Weakened by the weight of the travelers, portions of the road began to dip down, and in the midst of the landslide men began to tumble off into the thicket of bushes, crushed to death. Strands of hair escaped the helm, Adam's distinct call as he pierced his broadsword into bodies was taken note of by some knelt just behind. "We've spotted the Duke n' Dutchess!" Turning her head over her shoulder, the last she saw of her husband was him lifting his hand to give heavy slap to Caldonhan's flanks, "GET MY WIFE OUT!" The heavy stallion tread over the mounds of earth, cutting through lines as his Lady was forced to draw her sword now, taking heads in order to stay alive as Adam blended in with his men, both separate now (d)

Eamonn: That bastard had slammed into him, pushing the arrow shafts sticking out of him farther, and that made them hurt all the more. But he had to fight through it, he had to push on and ignore the pain that laced through his body. As he inhaled sharply, the rider ushered his horse to push on. The sword was brought down upon another's head, relieving it from his shoulders.Finbar rode over those he could, crashing into sum and trambling them. Horses cried out as did riders and the dying men. The battle, ambushed, was at the flip of a coin. The outcome uncertain, but the ground was stained red this day. Twirling the sword in his hand, Eamonn raced by another, slicing him acrossthe back with that blade, sending the militia man to the ground. Men were coming at him in many directions, an attempt to hedge him and surround him. Eamonn frowned, but spurred his horse onward. A dagger was thrown, and slammed into the side of his thigh. Eamonn grimaced and gave a sharp hiss. Pain. The dagger was ripped out, and sent right back to the man it came from. Another scream, and the man was thrown off his feet from the blow. Eamonn could feel the blood running down his leg and staining the breeches he war. For the gruesome fighting, what stitching had been done upon his side was ripped open, blood seeping out to colour the bandages under armour and clothes red. Bess...where was Bess? He heard the shouts of Adam, faintly. He had to get to her, or at least see her out.

Aislin: Glendon was perhaps slightly more serious then Eamonn or perhaps they both were the same, for when he moved by Aislin and saw her placing the shield over her arm, he frowned beyond the helmet and told her to make sure she was ready as he dismounted and came to stand by her side. His sword was pulled out and he stood ready. His horse stayed close, as did Echo having no where else to run to and not having any commands to do so. Lochan moved by them and dismounted as well, leaving the toher three riders on their horses as they moved back, waitinf for the foot men to reach them. Aislin truly did not wish to do this again, for each time was a risk to end her life, but there was no where to go and she was not leaving others behind. Eamonn..she could not see him through the crowd of others, nor any one else. Finally the wave spilled over and the men came at them. Aislin took in a deep breath as her full brows moved downwards and she tried to calm herself and be ready. She was going to get back to her daughter..she had to. For if Eamonn did not...then she was the only one left. Lochan gave a growling roar and Aislin's grip tightened as they came closer, closer. Finally, they were but a step away, making the three go into action. the men had her side had skills she did not, but the dagger and shield made her movemetns quicker. As a sword came towards her, she moved the shield upwards to deflect it and held the dagger facing down so she could pull it up and slam it home into the male's chest right above the plate. No time to stop and make sure he was dead..more were coming. That shield was used to stop things from hitting her and at one pointed she used it agaisnt her body to ram one away from her and into Glendon's sword. Breath grew shorter each movement, but she went on.

Beathag: The order that she be removed from the battle, or taken as far through it as possible, was obeyed. What good was it, she thought, though did not dispute the truth: If both of them were lost, then Skye would be lost. It would not matter the outcome of victory if there was no one to sit in the seat of power. "Come on m'lady, behind me!" Roric had his sword drawn, to the left a hit, to the right, in front. Bess had turned Caldonhan to the corner as best to take what was behind them down. The quarters were too close now to put arrow to the bowstring. As a sword came from overhead, the progression of it was haulted by the sharp blade of the hand axe coming down into the center of a face. His body fell forward on to Caldonhan, sending him careening into Roric's horse. She swayed this way and that, looking around as she forced Caldonhan to stay up..but to no avail. A heavier snap issued in the air! Crossbow fire pierced the side of the guardsman's horse, sending them both to the bruise on impact upon the hard graveled earth. Roric's knee was badly hurt as he could hardly stand upon it, but he pulled Bess up with him. Her hands took forgotten pikeman's weapon from the hands of the dying, sending it to the body of a charging steed before the force of impact sent her reeling back into the sheltered cove of open face in the hill. (d)

Eamonn: There was no telling where his wife was, but he prayed that she was far from the battle or at least out of harm's way. The men he had with her were the best, and he had faith that they would protect her with their lives. He had to trust them. Arrows were coming to an end as the battle began to grow thinner, the tide of the battle had turned in favour of Skye! But at what cost? As he cut through the lines of the men around them, the vision of Bess came closer, and he inwardly sighed. But when he saw his sister go down, Eamonn's eyes widened. No! Frowning deeply and his eyes hardening to ice, he sped up, urging Finbar onward toward his sibling. Any that got in his way was cut down as quickly as could be caught. BZAPT! Another arrow went into the air, and slammed into his stomach. Eamonn gritted his teeth at the pain. Eamonn hated ambushes, they were hard to predict, and always gruesome and bloody. Eamonn quickly snapped the arrow shaft, lightening it, and also helping to minimize the chance of pushing it in more.

Aislin: Aislin found herself using everything she could think of. She kicked out when she had the chance, slammed the shield into helmets, chest and used it to boost her power like a ramming wall. Each impact with another human body that was larger then her, made her teeth clamp together and her body ache. She was wearing down despite how much she pushed forward. A sword nearly took off her head, but Glendon cut it off with his own, kicking the man in the stomach and sending him back. Blood was everywhere, bodies left in the wake of them pushing forward. The other male that had been by her side moved from his horse as well and joined them on foot. Aislin heard him calling out and turned around in time to see him sink under the ground from behind. No! She had thought him lost but his voice was still calling out. With another hard push, she broke off from the two brothers as the numbers had drindled down and ran towards the area where the man had fallen. A trap within the ground...he clung to the side and ground with a dagger plunged into the earth. Aislin moved to her belly and reached down to him, gripping his arms, the tunic underneath...anything to help pull him up. He was too heavy..she was too light..she dug the toes of her boots into the ground but as they gripped onto each other's arms, she went forward across the ground and he sunk lower, pulling her with him. " NOO! GLENDON!...LOCHAN!" It had started off slow, but she moved faster towards the hole with the man until she felt something pinch her back and her tunic grew tighter around her chest. A snort to her back made her look over her shoulder and see Echo had a hold of her tunic with her teeth and was trying to tug, but it was only riping it from her.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Beathag: "Get out, I do not care which way you go Lady Bess, but get out! You must find a way!" She shook off the impact of the cold, clammy earth under her, groaning as the back of her head came to meet a rock. The damp feeling of blood slipped over her fingers but it seemed nothing serious. Roric's words echoed the sediment instead. They were inside the belly of the hill, feeling the quaking subside. Was it over? Hoove's thunder lessened, the clang of weaponry became the still afterwards filled with men's groaning. "We may both leave yet," she came to her feet, pressing her back against the round of the entrance, looking to see. "Ah'll find us a way.....oh Gods..look at ye," His leg was disjointed, bloody. He was her friend, and no amount of protest would make her leave so valiant a man behind. Wrapping his arm across her back, supporting behind his shoulders, she eased them both out into the open. Dust rose over the landscape, mist. "Tis quietin' now.." "Tis ne'er quiet.." Little did he know...his words...proved the last he'd say in his state. TWANG! CRACK! "Ahgh..ggu.." A crossbow had come from hiding, sending a bolt that tore into the center of Roric, tacking him up against the side of the hill. "R...R...run..run..no.nothing..go..Ke.." Blood foamed over his lips, bubbles popping as his eyes rolled into his head. "RORIC!" Seeing only the color now : he bled, Green eyes seemed to become the reflected red as she took on the shooter, and the last sparsing of men coming to surround. (d)

Eamonn: The chaos was starting to die down, but it was not yet over. There was still battle to be finished, and as the clansman grew more and more desperate, their tactics and ways of war changed. It showed. There were bodies of both men and horse about them, but they would have to be tended to later. His face was losing its colour, but all the man could think about was his last surviving sibling and his wife. Right now, Bess was in his need, and if he saw Aislin, he would make sure she was safe before going back into battle and performing his duty. Pursing his lips together, he gave a sharp whistle, alerting to nearest horsemen in his company to follow him. As he came nearer his sister, the tall blonde raised his sword and brought it down hard, splitting the man's head in two, blood splashing back as he he rode like a wildman toward his sister. No one would surround his sister. Not if he could help it. As Finbar came running by, in his rage, Eamonn threw himself from the horse and crashed into the men from behind, bringing them to the ground with him. The stallion circled around to come back and help his rider. "NO!" He shouted, gripping his sword and slicing one across the throat before he scrambled to his feet, parrying the thrust of another.

Aislin: Aislin closed her eyes and used every bit of strength she had to hold onto the man as they started going forward faster and faster until she saw over the edge and what awaited them at the bottom. Spears facing upwards. Just as she was about to go over the edge and the ripping of her tunic was heard, strong hands grasped her ankles and held her in place. Quickly she went sliding backwards and away from the hole, bringing the other man with her before gloved hands reached out for him and heloped him up the rest of the way. Aislin let go and restd her cheek into the blood soaked ground, catching her breath for a moment before hands gripped her shoulders and helped her up to stand. Cool air touched her back making her turn to see Echo was still holding a chunk of her tunic in her mouth. From the battled dying down, she heard the shouts and one in particular. Eamonn. moving to pick up her dagger from the ground, she: rushed towards Echo as she heard shouts at her. "MY LADY...DO NOT RUSH OFF. WAIT. " Aislin paused and looked to the two as they mounted and moved to her side. "Eamonn will have out necks..." "Better then the enemy having his..ah'll stay farther behind..but go quickly. He has need of you.."

Beathag: "Eamonn?" She turned, hearing him only, the sound of his horse..but not yet the sight of him! "Eamonn, where are ye?!" The last concentration of effort was given to the desperate attempt at taking down the worn, signature pieces of the moving band. Since the Marshall's wife could not be found, they sought out the Marshall himself, the Duke, and the Duchess. Fear. It coursed through her along with the adrenaline that made it a demand of her body to survive. Keep pushing forward, don't get surrounded. Onward! Strike up! Slice! The axe had come from her back at long last, and the Lady at last danced the graceful, deadly steps of wielding it. It wasn't until she cleaved off her third head that she saw him: Pale as the dead falling around them..yet fierce. If they could survive Inverness, Struan, Sleat...they would survive Trotternish! "EAMONN HERE!" Jutting the butt of the weapon into an approaching side, the blade went down to take off the matching arm. Helm tossed aside, the golden hair was the beacon now. Roric was dead now; but the thin wall of the falling seperating Eamonn and Bess. "GET BACK!" One came to try and pull down Finbar, but she was pushed to the side with him. Kicking him in the face, she brought the axe down to sink into the body where it would. (d)

Eamonn: Eamonn went crazy when it came to the lives of those he cared about and fiercely loved. He would throw himself before an onslaught if it would save the life of another. His body went crashing into the others, throwing them forward and to the ground, bringing himself down as well. The arrow shaft went deeper inside his abdomen, and he cried out in pain. He was wearing down. From lack of care prior to battle and the events of the evening previously with his wife, the poor Marshal was still recovering, yet throwing himself into the jaws of hell for his family. He heard Bess, and that made him fight all the harder. Swords clashed, and for a moment the two men were staring at each other, trying to shove the other away. Snarling, Eamonn slammed his fist into the man's face, making him reel backward before hacking off the sword arm. He sneered, before swinging that sword again and the blade biting into the man's abdomen. Panting, green eyes turned and the tall Marshal reached for another, grabbing them by the collar of their shirt and yanking them towards him. SMACK. The man's fist collided with his jaw. Eamonn's head snapped to the side, already a red and forming bruise standing out on his paled face. Growling, Eamonn stumbled backward, and when his head turned once more, keen eyes caught the gleam of silver. Leaning backward, Eamonn dodged the blow, and swung wildly. The man stepped back out of the way, before Eamonn reached out for the dirk of Brycean in his boot. Eamonn attacBeloved Souls: sore throat. Her stomach tightened and twisted, surely from lack of food and rest. Panting..she looked towards the area where Eamonn and the others were, having no idea Bess was there as well. She had to go on...she had to press. Her thighs squeezed Echo's sides once more to send her moving into a gallop towards the others, watching out for traps and moving around men and horses that lay on the ground, some alive and some already passed.ked him slashing left and right and left again madly, CLANG. CLANG. CLANG. Finally, getting an opening as he struck like lightening, the dirk was shoved deep under the ribs and pushed up farther. "RAAAWR!" He shouted in the man's face, before snatching the dirk free with a sharp tug. Once again, Eamonn cut his way toward his sister, Finbar having his back and buying time for his men to make their way towards him Aislin did as she said she would and hung back slightly as the other two men charged forward. The one she had saved was by her side on his own horse, moving towards the chaos of Eamonn and Bess. Aislin's breath grew sharply short and she had no choice but to pause Echo in her ride, making the other male pause by her as she caught her breath. She shook her head twice, fighting the light headed feeling as she swallowed hard, pushing saliva into her dry and sore throat. Her stomach tightened and twisted, surely from lack of food and rest. Panting..she looked towards the area where Eamonn and the others were, having no idea Bess was there as well. She had to go on...she had to press. Her thighs squeezed Echo's sides once more to send her moving into a gallop towards the others, watching out for traps and moving around men and horses that lay on the ground, some alive and some already passed.

Beathag: What had become of Raven and Kaelyn? Their paths were no less difficult - rockslides and netting took down many of the finest men of Argania, men that pledged their lives to two countries. Tired, wounded, they fought way to meet together once more to rejoin what had been split in half in order to divide the rebellion's forces. Adam was distant now..but she thought of him, as she pushed onward toward all that mattered - her kin, her blood. Brycean's dagger caught her eye..the sight of his hair..his eyes matching her own. She cried out in pain as the wounds that nearly spelled her death before bent, twisted, and were injured anew. Fists, hands, all matter grabbed against her back, pulled her down..but she pressed on. It was akin to holding a mare gone mad, shaking and cutting every which way until she was free. A dagger cut beneath her arm, another hit beside the head...but it mattered not. Even as a gray hue rimmed the world? She fought on until the last man fell..leaving only the pair of them, a meager distance of yards..and eyes to eyes. (d)

Eamonn: Eamonn had no idea Aislin was heading toward him. If he did, he would have warned her away, not wanting to risk whatever traps that might still be unset within the lands. The field was soaked with blood, and there was more to be added yet. Eamonn had long since lost track of the injuries he had been inflicted with, and was still being awarded. But until Bess was safe, he did not care. Eamonn moved fast, though he was beginning to slow as the blood loss began to take it's horrible toll. The white horse tail waved and swished in the wind, beckoning men, both good and bad, towards him. Grabbing another man around the head, he gave a sharp twist. SNAP. Neck broken. Tossing the man aside as if he were nothing, tired eyes raised and gazed upon his sister. Bess. There was a limp in his step from the dagger to his thigh, but he would get to her. "Bess..." This would be the last time he wanted to see her hear in battle. She belonged at home, leading the people, not out here in the battlefield. Turas Lan needed a strong leader who could defend them at home as well as on foreign ground. Adam and Bess were as one, Bess kept the home safe, while Adam extended himself to defend the home. Why could women not understand that? Apparently people here thought it an insult. That annoyed him, but that would be a thought to be touched on later. Panting heavily, his steps became faster toward his sister, to get her and get her OUT of here.

Aislin: Glendon and Lochan were heading towards Eamonn faster then the others. Charging, they took out a few men with a sweep, cutting them off from the Marshal and Duchess. Aislin was coming up some distance away, dodging those that were still standing and moving around Glendon and Lochan's wall to head for her husband. Already she could see him with Finbar behind him fighting their way until the last one fell.

Beathag: Whatever the reason for a woman at war, they were here. Somewhere, they'd always be there. But Bess had her fill of this, and determined that in the midst of the fight her time of war was o'er unless it came to the steps of her own door. Eighteen years, nearly nineteen of this. Of fighting, slaughtering, hiding..fighting. Over and over again. By the Gods of her mother and father, she had given her pound of flesh, her blood enough to soak the land. Her sacrifice had been paid in service. If any e'er doubted, they would believe - the Duchess was as much warrior as she was woman. "Eamonn.." He was so pale, hurt. But he lived. She pressed onward..her steps strong at first until her image was lost in a cloud of risen dust. "Eamonn.." Her body was but one of many that seemed to fall, men, horses, weapons. The weary. It was unknown that she did, however, until the dust settled. Amid the armor, the banners, lay her hair streamed over them. (d)

Eamonn: His main objective was to get the Dutchess, HIS sister, out of this bloody field and into a place of care, a place that would treat her wounds before they became more severe. He wasn't one to talk, but he was a soldier, and he had a duty to perform. Eamonn paused in his steps as he watched his sister carefully. Something was wrong. There was something in her eyes. "Bess...?" And then, it happened. "BESS?!" He shouted, before moving again, this time in a full run. She fell. Fainted. Passed out. Scared, Eamonn ran to her, and despite the great amount of pain it caused, he fell to his knees. "NOO!!! BESS!!!" He cried out, tears stinging his eyes as he scooped her up and held her close. "NO!!" Eamonn wailed, lifting his eyes to see horsemen coming...his horse men. "GET HER BACK TO MY HOME! NOW! FIND A HEALER!" The Marshal ordered, quickly lifting his sister off the ground, and with difficulty, carrying her over to the nearest horseman. He prayed his sister would be well and that she was alive and not dead or on the brink of it. The horseman took her carefully up with him. "GO!!! GET HER OUT OF HERE!!!" He yelled, and limped over to Finbar. "DEATH! DEATH TO THEM ALL! DRIVE THEM TO THE SEA! DRIVE THE OPPRESSORS FROM THE LAND OF THE FREE!" Eamonn raised his sword in high defiance of the remaining clansmen. Eamonn spurred Finbar on, stabbing another and leaving a trail of bodies behind them. If he was going down, he would fight until he had no breath in him.

Aislin: Moving around the two men as they took out the last bit of men that were trying to get to her husband, she finally saw them. Bess or what she thought was her and Eamonn. Echo moved quickly, pounding out the rhythm of her movements , the other rider by her side as she moved towards her husband only to see him lifting Bess' limp body up to another and then moving to head away. "NO...EAMONN!" That stupid man...stupid warmonger. She paused but a few feet away from him as he charged on..left to stare after him as he went somewhere she could not follow. Snarling at him..she waited..watched as he cut down those he came across. She had no choice..she promised not to go riding into danger and as she had said before..her hypocrite of a husband was doing just that! She knew he was injured..she could see the arrows from his body. " Ye! Go...go now!" " she said to the male by her side in a growl. She had no other choice..she moved slowly after him...only waiting to either go to him when all was cleared...or at this point claim his body should he fall. Once more..for sake of her sanity..Aislin shut down and emotions vanished. She could not afford them as her husband dove head long into the art of death.

Beathag: She walked until she could walk no further, the command falling into the wayside as limbs twitched before going stagnant in action. She blinked, surprised by the turn of events as dust clouds choked her, burning grit into her lungs. But one more scar, internal or external. Blood collected beneath the armor, stained the top of it, littered red speckles among strands of fold. She could hear them but could not respond! In the shadows she yearned to move..told her body to obey but found that shades had no dominance. Kendrew had come around the mountain, Aislin in his site..the Marshall moving toward his oblivion, "God..follow the man, get down there n' follow him!" He was bruised, blackeyed, bloody, but not in the pieces littered around them. Following the path of action, he came upon his brother's body and cried out as it was pulled from the hillside...but what could be done of it now..it was wrong. How could Fate show him his brother...and his Lady..in the same breath. To Eamonn he wanted to go..into the dusts with the few men that followed. But he came upon those that had the body of the Lady. A body, for as he came closer he heard them say "I can nay hear her breathe...nor see it!" He backhanded the panicing fool across the face, the heavy steel gauntlet seemed to snap his jaw, and sense. "SHUT UP! Get her out of here for iffn she dies now they will hold YOU responsible for it! Go! "

[Dame Kaelyn Urquhart-Raven]

Raven and Kae had led their men to the left as instructed and once the fighting began were effectively cut off the from the main part of their group.

They were in their own battle against life and death at this moment. Her thoughts drifted to those of them fighting on the other side of the small gorge. She could make out Bess and Eamonn as well as a few others as she reached for her bow and began firing arrows from Baran's back. He had been trained well, for once she let go of his reins he kept a steady gait allowing her to do as she was trained. TWANG!! WHIZ! WHIZ! TWANG! a barrage of arrows came flying and hit their marks several riders went down... regaining their footing began to fight with swords, axes, as well as whatever weapon they had carried.

She caught a glimpse of her shadow Knight's releasing their own torrent of arrows as she herself was doing.... TWANG! Instantly she felt the burn of the arrow as it sunk into the flesh of her thigh, quickly she reached down and broke it off. Her battle cry " Gaishioch!" would be heard as she released yet another arrow.

The Knight's with her were fighting for all they were worth as they fell they continued to fight until they could no longer do so. Rhys and Raven were on either side of her but some distance away as they continued to ride and shoot arrows, then with their knees turning their horses to once more race through the throng of men they battles. She wished they were closer to the rest of their party but for now all they could d do was keep up their fight and take as many down with them as possible to help even the odds into their favor.

Two more arrows had found their path into her body, she fought against the pain and rode on. "TRAPS!!!" To late she saw the rope that had been tied to two rocks on either side of the path she and Baran were on.... the rope hit her across the chest and knocked her from Baran's back. Baran reared and and snorted as he ran back into the melee confused and riderless.

Kae hit the ground hard.... the wind knocked out of he. Gasping for air and fighting the waves of nausea caused by the excruciating pain of her already broken ribs. She laid there for a moment before rolling over and crawling to her feet.

She drew her sword from it sheath as it hissed with freedom, three men approached her " Colin look 'ere 'tis a woman!" he sounded almost pleased that they were to fight her and not one of the large knight's still on the field. Her legs shaky and she felt as though her sword weighed as much as her horse right now. She raised it and took a stance knowing she could not hold them off long without help.

The first man made and advance on her and she dodged his blow only to be blindsided by the second as he hit her with the flat part of his blade across the ribs... she fell to her knees a painful scream broke from her lips as she fell. Her sword on the ground next to her " She be injured as well.... Ahhh easy this will be"

She reached for one of the daggers hidden within her boot and let it fly... THWACK! it landed in the man's chest... his heart... his eyes widened as he looked at it and fell dead upon the ground.

A howl came to them fierce and feral sounding as her wolf leaped from the top of a nearby rock... he stood between her and them. Hair on his back standing straight up and teeth bared... growling and snarling. Ademar had been closest to her then and ran to her to lend aid... sword drawn their battle cry on his lips he began swinging his sword in a rage she had never seen before " Back away from M'Lady and Queen!" he bellowed as he danced the dance of a warrior with blade flying in controlled and lethal movements.

Raven and Rhys were still mounted and firing arrows until their quivers had been emptied... in unison the jumped from their horses and began fighting with swords. Back to back the ' heart brothers' fought. They could see across the gorge and knew they were needed there as well but not until all was done here.

Many were falling injured or dead but they could not let up in their attack. Raven looked for Kae as he fought all he would see was Baran's rearing and defending himself in the only way possible hitting men with his large heavy hooves or trampling them as he ran.


The men Ademar fought had maneuvered him back to the field to fight Freika stayed with his mistress to guard her. Bleeding from two arrows in her body she leaned back against the rock. Breathing became difficult, pain consumed her body. She placed a hand on her wolf's back his soft fur giving her comfort at the time. Her thoughts on those she loved and had come to care for. Raven, Dmitrii, Adam, Bess... the Lord Marshal and his wife... all of them... blackness came swiftly as she lost consciousness, Freika dragged Kae's limp body further behind the cover of the rocks to conceal her from danger, and out of view of the others.
he laid by her side ever her protector like her Knight's and Raven. He would keep vigil over her until someone came.

[Lady Aislin Creed of Eohmark]

Eamonn was enraged. They wounded his sister and his wife. Because of them, good men were killed and slaughtered. His nephew was nearly abducted. Eamonn had enough. While the men finished off the rest of the militia, the others escorted Bess from the danger of this place. This hell. Wait...what was that sound? Aislin's voice. Even in his blind frenzy, he turned to glance over his shoulder. His wife, she was here?! In this madness? However, thankfully, she was not alone. Finbar snouted loudly, and as he rode off, cleaving another man's head in twain. Creeeak. Oh No. CRACK! Finbar screamed as the cover broke over the trap and sent the horse forward, falling to the ground and throwing Eamonn from his back. The sword flew in the air and away upon the field somewhere as he hit the ground hard. From around the bend a man carrying a club came, swinging that weapon proudly for his cause. Eamonn scrambled to his feet, and when he stood, he turned in time to see the club coming. BANG. The helmet went flying from his head and he fell to the ground again, a gash upon the side of his face from where the dent in his helmet punctured his skin. Eamonn was seeing stars. Finbar tried to get up and out of the hole he was in, pawing at the ground until he could get out. The branches cut into his flesh and fur, but the horse did not care. He was trying to get to Eamonn. The Marshal blinked back the darkness that threatened to take him, and rolled over to see the man with the club coming his way again. Eamonn was snatched up by the front of his chest plate, and slung into the side of the cliff. Hitting it hard, Eamonn groaned and cried out, tripping a wire with his unsteady feet. CREAK. Suddenly a row of wooden spikes came flying at him, suspended by twine and rope. His eyes widened and he tried to move, but his tired and battered body would not move fast enough. The spikes slammed into his chest, the two end ones catching him, for if he had been quicker, it might have been avoided completely. His eyes widened, and he gasped. He could feel the blood in his mouth rising, and every muscle in his chest tensing. The spikes, while the armour helped to lessen the blow, dug into his upper chest, missing his heart and lungs narrowly. Still, he was pinned between it and the rocky wall behind him, and misting green eyes watched as the clubman stalked towards him in an aim to finish the Marshal off.

Oceanic eyes watched as her husband turned to look at her and then moved back around to keep going. Sighing, she moved Echo forward with a slower pace, careful to watch for those traps within the ground. Only when she heard Finbar scream, did she look up and before she could think another moment, Echo took off, taking Aislin with her to get to her companion. Aislin did not attempt to stop Echo at this point, wanting to get to Eamonn just as badly. The other male was a good bit ahead of her, but he could not stop the blow her husband took to his head. Ocean eyes widen as Eamonn's helmet went off his head and he fell to the ground, only to be grabbed and slung into the rocks of the cliff Aislin sped up, going as fast as Echo would take her, jumping over a trap and clearing it before coming to the ground with a thud, making her whole body jer and feel sick. "EAMONN!" she yelled out as if that would help spur him on. The spikes were seen, but she was still too far. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest...this was it. She was coming to claim her husband's body. the male, got there just as the clubber was stalking towards Eamonn's pinned body and with his spear, he lanced towards the clubber, stabbing him and carrying him away before he lost his grip and the spear went into the ground, pinning the man by his chest cavitiy. Aislin yanked on the reins so fast, that Echo and her went into a slide and Echo nearly fell over, but got her balance at the last minute and came to a pause so Aislin could jump from her and go running towards her husband. A hand gripped her aching stomach as the muscles clenched and twisted as she stumbled towards him. Hands went to the ends of the branches, trying to look over the contraption and understand it fast. Where was the release...how did she pull it from him without damaging him? Leaning over it, her hands went to Eamonn's face as she was careful to not press into the wood. "Eamonn....stay with me....Eamonn..look at me. Open ye eyes...ah need ye help." She saw the blood coming from his mouth and she feared a lung was hit. "Stay with me my heart...ye home be so close...ye daughter awaits ye..help me...tell me how to get this off ye without hurting ye more. Please...ah do nay know this weapon.." Aislin's walls were crumbling, but she was trying. It was like the time she saw him in the ice..so close...yet so far.

That voice. Aislin's. He could hear it in his mind, though whether that had been the memory of her in his head playing games or not was a mystery to him, even. Paling faster because of the new wounds delivered. Was this his bane? At the end of a skirmish? Once before he told himself that he would die upon the battlefield. Was this it? Could this be his end? As he stood there, pinned against the cliff fance, images of his wife and child passed before his eyes. Her smile. Her laugh. Sorcha's laugh. Were these the sort of thoughts that went through the mind before his father fell as well? Time seemed to pass by slowly as he watched the man with the club come to end his fate. However...it never came. A rider with a spear claimed the clubber's life, sparing his, but to what extent? Perhaps the cluber's swing would have been merciful. Then, he saw Aislin. Was this another dream? No...this one was real. Aislin. He did not want her to see him like this, for if he did perish, he did not want this to be the last memory she had of him. Eamonn swallowed hard, feeling the copper taste of blood go down as well. She examined the contraption he was in, figuring out the thing to free him. Darkness, he could feel it creaping up on him. His eyes rolled a few times, Aislin's hands cupping his face, and her voice jolting him awake for a bit longer. It was hard to focus on anything, but he tried, turning green-hazel eyes to his wife. A faint smile appeared on his lips as blood trickled down the corner of his mouth and down the side of his face. "A...Aislin...I...I love you..." He whispered, wanting to say those words in case he never had the chance or strength to say them again. Taking a shallow breath, he glanced over the contraption. Eamonn blinked. "Cut...the rope...rock tied to end...cut the rope...then pull it out..I trust you..." He whispered, gasping softly. A few times he started to nod off, his head staring to fall forward before he caught himself and blinked quickly, trying so hard to keep himself awake


~~~Continued to "The Breath of Death" ~~~ [ftp]http://creativeconsort.proboards67.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=icjournals&thread=1207441819&page=1[/ftp]

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Whatever the reason for a woman at war, they were here. Somewhere, they'd always be there. But Bess had her fill of this, and determined that in the midst of the fight her time of war was o'er unless it came to the steps of her own door. Eighteen years, nearly nineteen of this. Of fighting, slaughtering, hiding..fighting. Over and over again. By the Gods of her mother and father, she had given her pound of flesh, her blood enough to soak the land. Her sacrifice had been paid in service. If any e'er doubted, they would believe - the Duchess was as much warrior as she was woman. "Eamonn.." He was so pale, hurt. But he lived. She pressed onward..her steps strong at first until her image was lost in a cloud of risen dust. "Eamonn.." Her body was but one of many that seemed to fall, men, horses, weapons. The weary. It was unknown that she did, however, until the dust settled. Amid the armor, the banners, lay her hair streamed over them.

"I dun nay understand how I could 'ave fallen. Sae close tae the end, he is before m'eyes n' I can nay make m'body gae towards him. Somewhere beyond him is mah husband, beyond tha', mah children. I can nay gae tae them. My armor pressed down intae mah skin by the weight o' dead men, horse flesh, steel."

Her inner voice boomed in the space between her ears. Her hands twitched, trying for an instant that seemed forever to dislodge herself from the wall of life that collapsed down. Beathag did not want to die, yet found she had little strength to live. The lines of the world around her began to darken, and the last words she could find on her mouth were to the man in front of her. But there were more.

Many were in the same predicament. Her ears were filled with their last thoughts, words, and breaths. She could feel their blood mingle with hers to form a thread, pulling when she went into Eamonn's arms. Tighter, it went round them both. His life was ebbing, and how she wanted to protest. How she wanted to say, "Let me gae, let me gae n' do nay follow me."[/font]


(Continued in Griffin Castle - Earnings of the Dead)

[odis]

"TRAP" rang down through the ranks as the man shifted in the saddle a bit, this did not bode well as the screams of horses and men alike while the rainfall of arrows cascaded down from the heavens upon them. The roll of german curses boiled out of his mouth as he leaned to one side of the horse, in the attempt to get down. The first of which arrows pierced through the breast plate of leather and the barbed head bit into the flesh of the shoulder. The grunt was given as the yellowish perch stomped the ground while its own coat managed to get peppered with the shafts. Odis began to swipe at the arrows as they came down in that hailstorm upon them.

The battle was in full bloom once more as they moved forward.. the long blade was simply not working here as he shoved himself out of the saddle. Odis was no knight, while he could fight from there.. it did not offer much in the ways of advantage at this point. He sliced through those closest to him as one of the rebells had dropped and with him a wicked looking ax. Odis only smirked as he sheathed his blade, all of which he'd curse himself for later for not wiping down.. but back to the fight, the ax was drawn up in a hand. The horse stepped back..shying away from its own wounds as Odis moved forward , using that ax to severe any limb that dared to stick itself out and in range. A butt stroke dropped another of the rebells as the sudden fire within his thigh caused him to look down. Protruding from the meaty thigh was the arrow. He bellowed as he broke off the end of it, as not to be used against him. He like so many others continued to follow the call of battle.

Wounds that had been sewn shut from the previous battles along this trail of blood and freedom, opened again from the exurtion of the fight. Dozens of new stinging cuts were added to those as he moved forward. Once it was all over with..he caught sight of them removing the Lady from the field of battle. He turned and whistled for his own horse. who limped as well . He took up rear guard with a small nod from Kendrew... and as they withdrew.. Odis followed , keeping all those whom were curious at bay with the bloodied ax in hand and the flat challenging stare.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The Perspective of Kendrew of Dumfrieshire

The road was narrow and the landscape did not allow for lines more than two long and several hundreds deep. If he could have, he would have favored the approach of three by three, so he might ride in the place closer to the pair of Griffins in the Vanguard. The reigns came over the heavy leather and metal covering his hands. A morning and more before, he had spoken with his brother Roric about them:

"Why are ye insisting on studdin' ye gauntlets. Chainmail ought be enough man, if ye'd be weighed down where the whole damn suit o' armor."

"Ye know how I feel about my gauntlets. Theres a bit o' luck in them yet, asides. Studdin' makes for a fine hit to the face. Shall we keep tally fer the road home, how many each hits? Whoever takes down more shall by a month o' rounds."

"A month of rounds? Kendrew, what sort o' sum do ye think we be paid, man," he grinned,"think ye the Duke will pay us extra iffn we get his wife in and out with nary a scratch."

"The liklihood of that," he reminded," Is slim, for our Lady is a fierce lady, nay doubt she will take more than us n' we shall have to buy her rounds all month.."

"Make sure tae put extra stud in your gauntlet, lad."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Landslide!"

It started at the front, soon rushing backwards like a wave of water gone the wrong way. Horses tossed their heads, stamped madly as the earth began to shake... BOOM! The first man was taken under stone, and the ones after would stand amay no longer. Soon the lines were in chaos, whole sections falling victim to traps, nets, triplines, and oil. "Hold ranks! Push closer n' hold ranks!" He was about to draw his sword at the instant a brigand lept down on to his back like a hobgoblin. He yowled in pain as he felt steel bite into his arm, but the assailant would be the one to die, tossed down and crushed under the horse hooves that made headway forward. The steel bits in the leather kept his body from being bruised by the pebbles kicked up in the sudden stampede.

"Roric, Roric! We've to get them out!" His sword bit into backs, hacked off limbs, heads, so he might keep his own. Blood sprayed up to coat the body of the horse. Soon, both of them were little better than entrails swarming on the top of the earth. This style of warfare could cost them: half of the Griffin Army, the Lord Marshall's riders, the Griffin Court's future. A balled fist punched him in the jaw, making his head snap. His reply? The gauntlet balled up made a deafening cracking that sent the bones of his nose lodging in the brain. "Roric, where are ye, Roric?"

"Aye Kendrew!" His brother was always calm on some matters, but a bull when enraged. He watched as he cut down advisary after advisary, taking the reigns of the Duchess' horse in hand. The Duke fought nearby, realizing the plan was to swarm them. "Get her out! Get her out of here!" He narrowed his gaze, looking from left to right. Not even the best of men would survive this without permanent marking, and God forbid the Duchess not survive at all. He was about to reach for the tossed reigns when suddenly the tip of his road became an unsteady thing, tossing horse and rider down toward the sharp ravines. If Roric had not pulled back, he would have taken them with him. "Kendrew! Shyte....M'Lady come, come! We've tae leave the horses!"

That was the last time he saw his brother alive.

[Dame Kaelyn Urquhart-Raven]

The fighting had ended... those that survived helped to get the injured back to Turas Lan and the dead back to their families and homes.

Raven and Rhys had not seen Kae since the battle started... they knew she could take care of herself and did not worry to much. Hearing that Lady Bess had been wounded... figured Kae had returned with her offering aid if needed along the way.

They collected the last of the bodies of those that were dead and mounted their horses for the long ride back to Turas Lan, and begin to look for Kaelyn. having no idea that she was still upon the field concealed by the rocks.

Long after the others had gone...

Her bodied battered and sore she laid there between those rocks so still. She stirred a bit... she opened her eyes slowly as Freika licked her face. The smell of blood and death filled the air and her nose making her shiver. The sky had grown dark, thunder crashed sounding like a hundred horses hooves hitting the ground . She had no idea how long she had been out , but knew she had to find shelter to wait out the storm.... but where.

Freika paced back and forth in front of a small opening between the rocks... kind of like a small cave. He nudged her gently with his large head and whimpered as he tried to get her to move.

Reluctantly she began to crawl for the opening as she was to weak to get to her feet and her body protested the movements. The pain in her ribs and those form the wounds made from arrows that still were in her body caused her to cry out softly.

Making it to the opening felt like forever but once inside she laid back and once more passed out from exhaustion, her thoughts were on those she cared for hoping they had survived. Freika once more took his place to guard her.... to protect her... and keep her warm, until someone came for them.

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

Adam was feeling pretty good about the victories in Portree, Struan, and Sleat… but as he looked at the map table, he was concerned with the new threat in Trotternish. Plans were made, logistics worked out, and assignments handed to responsible parties.

Eamonn had ridden forward with his men… Bess and Adam rode together north, then west, and back north by east, driving straight into the Trotternish peninsula… a good days ride and they would plan to link up with the others… then all hell broke loose… traps, ambushes, small swift attacks… all of what history would someday call guerilla tactics. Men fell where they stood, horses toppled with riders atop… screams of pain and agony filled the fields and hollows of Trotternish…

Counterattacks, swords melded together, spears hurled, and arrows found targets… in the end many would lay dead or dying… Eamonn was down, Bess was down, Adam was missing… still the Army of the Gryphon stood strong, repelling attacks, hunting down those who fought like animals instead of honorable men. Was Trotternish a victory, or defeat. It all boiled down to the Lairds running and hiding from those who rode and fought under the black and gold.

Adam stood on the far end of the field at Duntulm plains, his armor, sword, and even his face stained with blood… Sir Richard, Sir Robert, and Sir William of the Templar faction, Fain Haakon, Liard of Castle Moil in Kyleakin, and Angus MacDonald of Clan MacDonald, stood in the field near Adam. Reunited, they found themselves separated from the main body of the Griffin Army where Eamonn, Cormack, and Bess where.

Making a hastily-made command area… then with plans laid, the men gathered their remaining forces with the consensus to root out the remaining opposition. For the next day or so, reports to Turas Lan were that Adam and the others were missing… wounded and missing lists were posted, oblivious to what was occurring on the Plains of Duntulm at the same time.

Eamonn, Lord Marshal of Skye, had broken the back of the Lairds’ Clan Army. It was his determination, skill, and tactics, despite the guerilla tactics of the opposition, that made Adam’s plan so easily accomplished.

For days, Adam rooted the remaining clansmen from their hiding space. He was wreaking vengence for the deaths of many and the wounds of his wife, brother-in-law, and friends. Some would say that Adam beset massacres upon his opponents.

As the battles began to subside in endurance, the will of the Clans waning, Adam afforded Clansmen the opportunity to either surrender and swear fealty to the Griffin, or die for their cause. He would not allow Eamonn’s, Bess’ and the others’ falling wounded or dead to be in vain. Those were his motivation to end it.... Here…And Now !!

Both scenarios developed upon the fields of Duntulm, and in the steeps and crevices of the Quiraing, as men died vainly for a lost cause… or surrendered to a new Skye… Six days did the men search, capture, destroy, or add to their army on the peninsula of Trotternish…

The Lairds’ Clan Army would be nevermore as vowed by the Lord of the Isles, as he rode ahead of the newly formed army toward Turas Lan, with prisoners and wounded men in tow. He had captured the remaining Lairds and would ride victoriously into the Capital to issue justice as he saw fit… Men rode behind and around Adam as he entered the gates of the capital, the walking soon after, the captives and wounded not far after…

The gates closed after the rear guard entered, but Adam now atop the Griffin Castle wall, ordered the gates opened. “The gates to our city shall remain open until such a time that Turas Lan and Skye are once again besieged. Now I proclaim a new Skye… a new era to be lauded with freedom… to establish trade with our brethren abroad and wreak prosperity for all. !!”

“An’ wot o’the Lairds who fot again ye M’Lord…?” came a cry from the square…then echoed by the multitude. Adam raised his hands to quiet the masses. “They shall be tried by the Griffin Court and yu, the people, shall have a say in their verdict…” he replied in a loud voice. “Hang ‘em!!” one said, “Be’ead em M’Lord!!” came another.. “Death to the Traitors…” said another group… “Long Live the Griffin” soon became a joined chorus. Adam could do nothing but allow them to sing their wishes…

Adam looked upon the crowd gathering below him… the voice of one-people speaking loud… the voice of freedom. As of yet, he had not seen the dire straits Bess and Eamonn was in… he feared the worse as dreams came to him, nightmares of gruesome tales… His worst fear was before him, as he bowed to the crowd then turned to enter the castle… parties were beginning to spring up everywhere in the city as people began to feel the freedom now afforded them.

The only consolation was seeing his children, both Aodhan and Edme ran to him as he knelt down. “Da? Is it over?” Aodhan spoke softly… Edme echoed his question… “is it ova Papa?” Adam could do nothing but hug the children, staying the tears for Bess from their view. “Ah believe so mae bairns of mae ‘eart an’ soul…” Looking at them, his large hands upon their arms…he smiles… “Ah n Mama aer so vera proud o’yae both… Yae aer mae strongest knight n Lady…Gae with Aida and prepare for the future by yaer studies…” nodding to the nanny who had stood by them all the while. Aodhan looked down... "Ah cannae see Mama, ah think she hurt bad..." then Edme began to cry. Adam wanted to choke...

Then as the children departed, Adam found a quiet, lonely corner and cried… Moments later, he whispered a prayer… the first in many years… “Ah pray tae ye, the Gods of my wife’s family… tae the God that my Father uses… give me mae Bess back… she wun dun ye no good…she bae needed here… she has dun sae vera much upon this earth and endured more’n any woman need tae… time bae now Ah need her… this new land needs her… Sae ye dae know, Ah be here… ye bring her back tae me cause yae cannae have her… Ah make no deals… Ah offer nae promises… but yae do what yae feel is right…” then he begins to walk away… stopping only to look up once again. “Thank yae…” then he walks down the hall to where Bess is being kept.

[Dame Kaelyn Urquhart-Raven]

Huddled within the cave as the rain came down in torants as if God himself were mourning those that had fallen. Kae woke dazed and in great pain. She looked at her thigh and saw it still bled and the arrow she had broken off still imbedded in her flesh.

Hands that shook reached for her dagger..... she would have to remove it herself and then try to stop the bleeding. She slit the fabric around the entry and taking as deep a breath as she could with her ribs hurting as they were. It would not be the first time she had to such to herself but by all that was holy she hoped to never have to again after this. The other arrow in her shoulder would have to wait for she could not reach it by herself.

She dug the blade into her leg and removed the arrow head. Ripping the hem of her shirt she tied it around her leg. Sweat streamed down her face... her whole body began to quake... she was cold. Blood and dirt clung to her like a moth to a flame, she grew tired. Freika moved closer to her giving his warmth to her.

How long had she been here and where was everyone? Her thoughts began to fade as the blackness came once more to claim her as his mistress for now. The moon rose into the sky and cast an eerie glow over the battlefield where so many had fallen...the night air was cold and damp from the rain that had continued to fall. At least for now she would be safe in the cave with Freika by her side.

[Sir Dmitrii Zurban]

DMITRII at TROTTERNISH

For the Vanguard of the Griffon Army, the return trip from Sleat to Turas Lan was of some distinction… one of their own… Sir Dmitrii Zurban was not among them… thought missing, and possible dead… the Vanguard camped outside the city at Adam’s orders…

Within days after the return of the Vanguard, one Dmitrii Zurban reports to his Lord, the Griffin of Scotland… Lord Aberdeen orders Dmitrii back to the Vanguard, which he readily accepts. But what was to unfold, would find Dmi at odds with Adam.

Upon a surprise visit by Lord Aberdeen, the Vanguard is ordered to Trotternish in support of the already departed Lord Marshal…

Ready to accept his assignment, Dmitrii finds that Adam orders him to remain in Turas Lan under Sir Thomas’ command at Griffin Castle … no reason provided as per the prerogative afforded a Lord… which Dmi vehemently objects… to no avail.

That evening, with the Vanguard riding north, Dmitrii watches the departure atop the castle walls. “Dammit Adam, why now, with victory so close…”

Those would be the last words for over a week that he would say to anyone in regards to Trotternish… for soon the returning Army, its ranks filled with dead and dying entered the city gates. Once again, Dmitrii watched with anger in his heart for not being permitted to partake.

The lists made, and posted... listed Adam and Kaelyn among those missing… he walked his post upon the walls like a good soldier… until… until Adam rode in… his sister still missing… that was it… he could take no more…

That evening, he told Sir Thomas, that he was leaving to find his sister upon the fields of Trotternish… arrest him if he needed to but he was going… but no arrest came… for Sir Thomas knew what Dmi had to do… Now Dmi departed Turas Lan with only his swords, a pack with herbs and bandages, and some food and water.

The wedding planned only weeks away… he needed to find Kaelyn… his ride swift to the north, he looked at the map where Adam had posted Kaelyn and her Rangers, Raven and the Shadow Knights… That day and into the next he searched… to no avail…

Early the third morning, he saw her horse wandering around… so the day long he concerted his efforts in the vicinity. As he began to walk around the edges of the hills, he was startled by a low growl of a wolf… with swords in hand, he slowly turned to see a white wolf, its mouth stained red…

“Frieka… down… its Dmitrii…” then with shown teeth covered, the wolf reluctantly made his way toward the man in black and silver… who sheathed his swords in flicks of the wrists. Hunkered down before Dmi, Freika growled low but showed no teeth… “Freika… find Kaelyn…” then the wolf jumped up and turned to run… Dmi ran after….

Past the woods, into the hills, the wolf bound unhampered…but Dmi was much slower… later, atop a small knoll, he saw Freika disappear behind hanging branches… Dmi kept his bearings and made his way to the last place he saw the wolf.

Looking behind the hanging limbs of the tree, he found a cave… Making a torch of pieces of his shirt, he struck the flints and got a fire started. Entering the cave, he began to look around… in a corner, he found Kaelyn… dried blood caked upon her thigh. First things first…she had a weak pulse… but at least it was a pulse.

For the next hour, Dmi replaced her hasty bandage with herbs and a clean one… using his waterbag to clean her as much as he could. Freika lay to her side and watched Dmitrii. Leaving a water bag near her, he made his way down to the black horse he rode… walking closer to the hill, he tied the horse to a tree to get Kaelyn.

Within three hours, Dmitrii had gotten Kaelyn from the cave, and rode from the hills of Trotternish with his sister before him secured in his arms. The new black Friesian prancing its way down the road south.

He rode all day and all night, refusing to stop until he was safe in Turas Lan where the healers could properly tend his sister.

As he entered the gates… guards flocked about him… immediately taking Kaelyn to the healers…

As he began to dismount, he fell backwards into a guards arms exhausted.

[Dame Kaelyn Urquhart-Raven]

When Dmitrii came into the cave he would have seen his sister there upon the dirt floor covered in dirt and blood and shaking from the dampness.

She moaned softly as he washed the dirt and filth off of her and tended her wounds.. yet she remained unaware of it all. Gentle hands touched her and whispered softly... soothingly to her. The accent odd yet so familiar... Dmitrii?! " Dmitrii you are you came for me!" she cried though no words left her dry lips.

Strong arms lifted her and held her safe within them as the familiar gate of a horse was felt beneath her...her eyes fluttered open briefly as she turned and looked into the handsome face of her beloved little brother.

"Dmi... I am sorry for all that happened... I love you " her voice but a whisper as she spoke in her native language. So much she wanted to say but just having him near made one corner of her mouth turn up in a crooked smile be fore she once more went limp within his arms.

They had entered Turas Lan and she heard the shouts and calls of 'Welcome home' form many male voices that sounded so far away. The movement of the horse stopped and she felt herself being handed to another who craddled her form gentle against a body that was warm... she was moving again and quickly.

" Find Sir Raven and fast and help Dmitrii as well!" the man shouted out as he carried Kae off. Many voiced swam around her... some giving orders anad others asking if she would be alright. Kae was helpless to wake and let them know she would be fine.

Hands began to removed clothing and bathe her with warm clothes... she moaned and winced when they touched areas that were sensitive or hurt like hell... such as her ribs. Dark bruises marred the flesh of her side... as well as on areas she had been hit... her leg had finally stopped bleeding thanks to Dmi and his handy work.

" I can help tend Lady Kaelyn..." a soft delicate voice said Maggie? Instant recognition of the healer that had come from her homeland. The bandages on her ribs were removed and she heard someone tsk. " The bones will need to be reset as I had warned her when it happened" Maggie said in a sad soft tone.

" Good thing she is out for this will hurt badly." someone said Several large hands touched her holding her down as her ribs were set back into place... Kae screamed out against the pain that sliced through her like a blade... her body went limp as she passed out again.

Blackness swirled about her and she reveled in it at the moment.

[Dame Kaelyn Urquhart-Raven]

Late in the night Kae woke in the healing wards Maggie had been keeping watch and Freika howled softly from outside reluctant to leave his mistress.

" Wh...where am I? Raven? Dmitrii?" she asked softly looking around gathering her wits as she tried to remember what had happened and how she got here. The last thing she remembered was being inside the cave... she thought she also remembered Dmitrii there, or had her mind been playing tricks on her again.

Maggie waved to one of the guards to come over " Please tell the Knight's Sir Pagan and Sir Phantom that Lady Kae is awake and ask them to go and get Sir Raven and Dmitrii post haste." she commanded softly.The guard gave her a nod and turned to do her bidding . " Shhhh M'Lady as is well ye are in the healing ward... I have asked a guard to go and get yer brother and betrothed and bring them to you." she cooed as she wiped Kae's brow with a cool cloth. The slender woman held Kae's head as she tipped a cup to Kae's mouth and coaxed her to sip... the contents were cool and slightly biter from an herbal mix to help ease her pain and help her sleep. Kae nodded and closed her eyes to sleep this time.

She was tired, but she wanted to see the two most important men in her life as well... soon they would come and she would see them.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The Perspective and Death of Roric of Dumfrieshire

The formation of the party wasn't too his liking, but that mattered little. Roric was not the one in charge, and he had always been something of a follower among the company of men deemed greater than himself. He breathed in anxiety as thick as smoke and exhaled the doubt that left seeds to root in his imagination. There was nothing he could say of Trotternish he favored on this war-band trot into a chaos that was close to coming towards them.

It would be harder to disperse from the pair of lines, harder to come to the front of his charge when he was poised at an odd angle behind her. "She should nay be 'ere," he muttered for the one hundreth time to everyone and nothing at once, "she should in the castle, safe." His vows to the Lady of the Isles did not detere his opinions. Women may take up arms, but if they did, who would make life sweet and good when the storms came? What wombs would their be left to guarantee life if the taste for steel was greater than that for love? There wasn't time to be philosophical at Struan or Sleat. He wasn't expecting the company to hault so he could spout it and turn his Lady around.

It was too late for that.

Kendrew called out a command only to have it lost in the slew of men falling over the saddle to be crushed underfoot. Instantly, he found himself drawing swords against the enemy, thrusting and pushing to get forward to capture the reigns of the Duchess' horse. He found himsef lost in the melee of beast, man, and soaked oil bales catching fire. Smoke filled his lungs as he at last was able to secure the hand of his charge so that he might take her to safety with the war waging behind them.

"No, M'lady, dun nay look back! Onward!" He had no apology to make for dragging her on, nealry spearing the weight of her onto himself to see she got a foot more ahead. "Stay aloft with meh now, come on Beathag! You're a right hard woman..come on!" She couldn't afford to lose her strength now, nor could he let her fall! He braced her against his back until they came to an alcove of jutting stone on the face of the hill until the sound of a bolt slicing the air made him push her forward, "Go..go.."

Thus ended the life of Roric of Dumfrieshire.