The Journey Forward - Of Substance, Of Self *Close

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The Harper's Child and the King, Part III

Once a fire is left to its own device, it is hard for it to dampen the brilliance of the glow. Harder yet it is to quell a fitful element. Robert Bruce and Beathag were two made of the same stuff, that no amount of the ocean water could dampen. The wind only seemed to spread it to untouched growth so that between the two of them the distance of space in the room in which they spoke grew hot. She spoke no further to him as he drew back his hand, craddling it in his other. Did he hit a face made out of stone, or was it a heathen curse come to give him pain for the like inflicted? "Go now," he commanded in low, surly tones. "unless you have further want of me."

He hit her knowing he had all amnesty to do so, and that God would judge him alone for the sin of marring her face where men couldn't touch him. If she, on the otherhand, responded in kind the cost would be too great. It wasn't fair how a man could hide behind his title. His "God-given" right, elected by the people to chose their own king. A stern, glowering expression indicated no with a cant of head, then body bowing in a silent protest of his command that she become the placid feminine. "No. Goodbye." She charged the particles in the room to burst loud in his ear even as she talked low. Robert Bruce had to take command of himself. He feared the Aberdeens; their devotion, their passion, their rages and more than anything he feared them even when Adam nor Beathag said anything. Those silences were pregnant with all the things they wouldn't say that the face ought betray. He feared the same qualities in them that he admired, that angered him.

Tonight his Harper would prove her claim in song, and the Lord of the Isles would have some satisfcation in that. Erstwhile, he had no choice but to spend the hours in reflection for what he was doing, what he had done. Adam was right; He sold his seat in Edinburgh and surrended Glasglow for hardly a tuppence of worth in the rhetoric he'd spoken of peace. Lord Stratham was an Englishman who cared nothing for the causes championed by Scotland and a thorn in the English side since the crowning of the first Plantagnet as Edward I. Yet, no matter that he put his name to deeds partitioning off pieces of Scotland, he was still the King, was he not? A man entitled to change his mind on benefit with no behest from another, a man who had championed the cause of freedom, was a hero.

The definition of a hero paled year by year. People who gave selfless in sacrifice, who offered salvation. Falsehoods of such were more common that the genuine article, and Scotland was falling prey to her own saviors now. Beathag saw the reason for coming to Aberdeen as far different now than any thought before. It was a matter of a self-preservation that had naught to do with proving, papers, or lineage, but what would they stand for.

Whom, would they stand with?

It was a question that led to a match of wants, demands, and an intense quarrel between the Harper and her husband, Lord of the Isles. How far did this lineage demand of them to go? They went round and round over what was expected, over the Bruce's soon to be fall from grace and how Scotland was sliding head long in to the sea. They spoke of Aberdeen, of Skye. The anger that seemed to be a hallmark of self, a standard, had put Skye on a path that at once she riled over. How could they guard all of Scotland if what they had to guard and those that depended on them already were failed? Could not they save more people by building up what was there, instead of stretching out so far akin to conquerors?

Robert Bruce was no more a hero in Beathag's eyes now, and of herself to him, she couldn't say. How others thought of the wild Aberdeenian woman mattered little now. Their son suffered here for a face he could not change while the Duke raged on and on.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

-- Some of the words between Beathag and Adam.. .--



Beathag:...He is nay the Bruce, nay anymore. He will soon have tae prove all tae those tha' fought with him at Bannockburn." She let go of him, pacing, going to the room as she looked at him, "Ah dun nay want tae beh Guardian o' Scotland nor ye tae be. Ah dun nay e'en want tae beh his god damned Harper. Wot need has he for mah words? Think ye I can turn his thoughts. Ah'm nay m'mother n' ye are nay William Wallace. We are simpler children o' a greater house, Adam." (d)

Adam: Adam grabbed her wrist as she started to walk away... pushing her against the wall... "Listen tae mae... dun push mae away, Ah am nae yaer guard nor servant... Know this... Mae eyes glisten, mae heart pounds... but Ah nay cry'n.. Mae anger rises upon betrayal of a King Ah support... Ah am the Lord of the Isles... and yae are the Lady... like it or nae... we are... and Ah WILL NOT let some fool allow HIS country tae fall and threaten wot we 'ave worked hard for and come sae far..." He is pacing... and the baritone voice is low but harsh..."Nae way Ah'll give up wot we bled faer... wot people depend upon us..." then he growls... "If'n Ah must...Ah'll meet mae Father...on a field o'battle... and he can have all o'r mae dead body..." by now his fingers were pointing at her in gesture::::

Beathag: She turned to walk away to find another state to be. Only now it was him that took her wrist. The grip around it was painful, "Ahdam, let me gae!" She exclaimed, shocked at the amount of force he used to wrestle the element of nature to be a lesser thing, until her back was against the wall. "Dae ye HEAR yourself Adam, dae ye? Because Ah dae plan n' clear, n' wot ye seek tae dae will cripple this country, nay help it. Ye take her tae war now these people will die. They nee da place tae gae, btae rebuild...n' we hae tha'! We can give them tha' but your talk sounds more like conquest than actions on behalf o' a betrayed King. People depend on us tae be ALIVE Adam. Tae keep SKYE n' ye grandfather's lands, Adam. THIS is beyond us! N' ye would charge bold intae the fray n' tha' is wot Maubrey would find, yer dead body. From exhaustion. YE do nay sleep. Ye hardly eaet. We're both at our wits end n' for what, Adam. Wot good is this all iffn we can nay sit long enough tae speak with our family, tae look 'pon our son. Tha' boy has been torchured n' ye have nay a held him in your arms once for it! Ah lay awake and rock him while ye talk o' ye blasted war. Ye father's already made landfall," she said, low, angered, "He's already told e'eryone he is the King o' the Isles. He's made mah brother, your Lord Marshall, intae a fool n' Eamonn takes nay kindly tae tha'. But while our home seeks tae be rife...with tha'......n' if we have naught tha' wot will we have!" He pointed his finger in to her chest and she swatted it away. "NO " she blurted, "Not again. Ah've had enough o' this treatment from Robert Bruce, Ah dun need it from you....Move.." She muttered, " please..I dun nay like tae be cornered." (d)

Adam: She was right !! Had his anger started them down a path? He was not his Father... and not his grandfather !! Her words about Aodhan hit him like a spear in the chest... and it took away his breath... then the words of his Father in Turas Lan drove the spear in further... Cornered? Her? They both had been thrown into this... and now he had probably nailed the coffin shut... Backing away... he nodded... He knew not what to say... or do... ::::

Beathag: "Ah've only one blood soon, as by this," she took his hand and showed him that scar, "Sae dae ye. Ah can nay bare ye children sae I'd like tae have it said tha' among man many faults Ah was a suitable mother. Iffn ye wish tae gae about this way, there's little Ah can dae against it. M'son will require his mother n' m'cheek will require lavendar against the blight it has. Seems men would require mah patience by force taeday." She muttered, giving a cant of head in respect as wife does to husband. The mark of the Bruce was faint, hard to tell if it was from him or othe other adventures Aberdeen had to offer. But what did it matter? Aberdeenshire was a landslide. It wanted to take her down deep. In his stunned silence, she merely stalked off in to the heart of their chambers to remove her coronet before going to their son. (d)

Adam: Why doesn't she just drive the spear right thru him...? None would call her an unsuitable mother... none could... and as a Father? he was not the best... Yes he provided for them, for they want not... but a Father? Was he like his?? Self-indulgent? it seems apparent right now... she headed toward the chambers... he headed out into the night...:::::

Beathag: He brewded. he grew dark and depressed, but he did not come to her when he made his way. Was it a fault of both of them? He proved his backbone's rigid nature by the force of his hand. It still stung, how he'd held her. Days had gone by, hours. What were a few more since last he held her or she him? As it was it seemd the question of theirs would always go unanswered. What point was the child in such an unruly womb? The hours passed as he went in to the night, so many that if he returned he'd find that his son had fallen asleep on a chase styled sitting place while his mother watched the window. Time deepened a red line to be the only bruise on her countenance, and a mark on her wrist. Servants had come in and out, finding the woman said little or nothing to them (d)

[aoife]

And on and on. For she had a little bit of immunity here that the rest of the travelers from Skye could not spend, she was Manx. That was her difference, little that it was. The people of Aberdeen seemed to have no qualms with her, not that she saw much of what the gossip told, of attacks and whatnot. She knew nothing of the Lady's dark child, nor did she care, a child is a child. Not that she had seen many dark peoples, but there you go. Morgen was busier then ever and his sisters stayed near their nesting spot, which may be the best for them.

Not Aoife. She could only play the church mouse for so long. She brought wares, bolts of fabric to sell, balls of yarn, nicely embroidered pieces, even a few knitted shawls and daintily sewn clothing. One of which, she donned herself, the dress lengthen her petite figure, lightly hugging those soft curves and rounds God blessed women with. The neckline was high, but wide, a teasing flash of shoulders could be glimpsed beneath the scarlet and gold trimmed dress, the sleeves were long and so gently belled to her knuckles. Golden curls were smoothed a bit, tamed into a intricate pair of braids that coiled at the back of her head, blue ribbon twisted throughout the coil. She even went so far as to allow a lovely lady they traveled with to darken those long lashes of hers. She looked as if she belonged in a castle and not the fields she worked in.

Which was good, for at the moment, she was lost in the castle, after making sure the wee cart/stand she rented from a local was fine to set up a temporary business. She had the scroll with seal in hand as she washed lapis lazuil orbs over the walls, taking in the tapestries the stone work, the people of course. That helped, for she'd gently reach out, gently touching the elbow of the lithe Lady Bess as she left a room, sharing a winning smile to the guards before she'd speak in that charmingly warm voice, "Dear Lady, Fastyr mie [Good afternoon]!"

Aoife had not seen the mark the Lord had left on her, and when she did, she may be lucky to have her head.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The Manx wasn't a strange child in a place full of Gaelic-Scotts, Norman conqueror's descendants. It was but one of many languages fighting for dominance in a world that was swallowing up pockets of the native sort. Perhaps it was her blessing, then, to have little to do with the quarrelsome, fickle natured blood and ways of the Scotts, and the Highlands, especially. Lowlanders at least had the chance to be more cultured, spoke reasonable English. Highlanders banned in Clans that were often poorer than Lowland cousins. Wild, too, in all matter of ways. This did little against the lot that Beathag faced as she found the home she knew was little aganst what it was now.

She didn't know if she had a place there or not. Maybe she didn't want to know at all. She focused now on soothing her son so he wouldn't have bad dreams. Her voice came rolling through the slit in the door, pleasent. In fact, it was downright something else far more curious in association with her: enchanting, rich and beautiful.

The King made a good choice in a Harper, at least.

Aodhan was fitful, but in time nights of wakefulness made his eyes too heavy to keep open. Breathing in lavendar and lilac oil, sleep came deep and unfettered by bane. So that was how his mother could leave him, better off than she herself was. A change of clothing could denote a change of attitude, or one could hope. From the door she came arrayed in the colors of the local shire, a white chemise with all matter of red gown pieces. Sleeves tied in red ribbon, golden overlay upon the bodice, a chord of such at the waist. Her hair was coiled and pinned in some intricate fashion with bits of golden chord throughout to offset the effect of treasure 'pon the head. Against her back in a case of leather and lined velvet was the lap harp she was intent to take with her to the square. Music soothed the savage beast and history was her duty, perhaps there was something to record in that. Someone who wouldn't forget themselves.

It was the Harper Aoife touched, not the Hound who had roared earlier, Gods be praised.

"Good afternoon, good mistress Aoife. Ye look a'treat taeday. Have ye some business or other?"

[aoife]

Politics, not something she enjoyed, men that act like asses even less! Her head would cant as she smiles to the Lady, her head then bobbed a moment, "Aye, yer a fine sight, too! Yer man about then? Or are yah sneaking for cupid's delight?" She'd laugh then, that "join me!" sound so pleasant as she teased before lifting her permission papers, "Och, nah, Morgen is ..I didnae know where he is, but I 'ave work ta do, yerself, Lovely Lady?"

All the while Aoife's nimble fingers gently picked a few bits of this or that from the Lady, blue eyes following the curves in that almost lewd fashion, ideas of abundance! The poor Lady would soon have a look-a-like if she kept dressing so fine.

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

Adam was brooding… He had forsaken his son… manhandled his wife… scorned a King… and cut ties with honor and integrity… for what end? The walk thru the streets of Aberdeen was slow and aimless… he had changed clothes… to that of a commoner… the robes of black and gold lay upon the bed his wife would soon lie…

Down streets… thru the alleys… Adam contemplated upon what he had done… and what his wife had said… The spear of words had been driven deep into his soul… Decidedly, he would no longer shed tears… for anyone… except maybe his family… he would revert to days of old as the cold heart of the Green Knight… his hand touching the deep scar upon his chest… He had forgot the lance that pierced his chest that day long ago… Bess had seen to warming his heart… and his emotions…

Now he would have to learn anew… to be stalwart leader… not only in spoken word but actioned deeds… and yet save time and place for his family alone… Would it had been better to die upon the field of battle in the many tight scrapes he escaped from? To what end?

Lost in thought, he wandered the streets of Aberdeen… When all of a sudden… a man, same size as he, grabbed his arm, spun him, and slammed him into a wall… the air knocked from his lungs by the impact… “Dun move MiLord… Ah woot ‘ate tae kilt yae in the time Scotland needs yae…”

Adam felt a bladetip prick at the base if his neck… it was then the man spoke once more… “Ah coom tae deliver a message tae yae… boot yae are a ‘ard man tae get next tae…” Adam did not lie against the wall not resisting, though the man held him fast…

In a raspy voice, low so only Adam could hear… said in a melodic tune…

"I've heard the Lord's cloak and clasp
Were clench'd within their dying grasp,
What time a hundred foemen more
Rush'd in and back the victor bore,
Long after Skye had left the strife,
Full glad to 'scape with limb and life."

“Dae yae remember milord… Seek yer mind… seek yer wife… taegether yae must know…”

Adam remembered... he remembered that the old man... the Chamberlain had told them... "Tis the final stanza dat mentions how the Protectors kept Skye safe an' out o' AInglish grasps… and segregated her from mother Scotland to keep her as her own entity… until the prophecy would come true of the MacRauri return." Ah yes, Adam remembered....

Then once again, the assailant nearly sang the words to Adam…

THE Kings are dying! In blood and flame
Their sun is setting to rise no more!
They have played too long at the ancient game
Of their bluer blood and the bolted door.

Now the blood of their betters is on their hands--
The blood of the peasant, the child, the maid
And there are no waters in all the lands
Can bathe them clean of the dark stain laid.

They have sinned in malice and craven fear-
For the sake of their tinsel have led us on
To the hate-built trench and the death-drop sheer,
But the day will come when the Kings are gone.

The Kings are dying! Beat, O drums,
The world-wide roll of the democrat!
O bugles, cry out for the day that comes
When the Kings that were, shall be marveled at!

The man’s tone changed a bit… “Heed milord… heed wet Ah ‘ave said…” then the man kicked the back of Adam’s legs, driving him to the ground… then in a clamour of boots to stone, the man ran into the shadows…. And Adam got up slowly… and looked around… confused… bewildered... what were these words and why him?

[Lady Liliana Campbell]

To be unaware of the going-ons seemed impossible. Even in her own bed, sick with a cold, Liliana had heard the happenings of events in Aberdeen. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the woman tending to her, another friend from the Griffin Castle, was bringing her tidbits. Never had she found it acceptable to listen to gossip, recalling how her Father had always found the tongue waggers to be a waste of air, until now. Without Kendrew to bring her information and being confined to bed- she needed to know!

None of the news made her pleased. In fact it had left her tossing and turning. She wanted to be there for Bess, for Kendrew, and for the people of Skye! Not that she thought herself important, only a lady-in-waiting, but...she wanted to be there for the people who had given her a chance at a better life! That was why, on this day, even though her stomach was still a bit queasy, Liliana was out of bed and searching the halls of the castle for none other than Bess!

A simple gown of lilac was worn, ebony hair done up in the usual braid, and her copperskinned cheeks seemed a bit paler than normal- but it wouldn't stop her!

[Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem]

In what state could he be, a fish from water? A mortal among Gods? Or would he be doomed to simply stand out forever. Put the Moor in what you wish, call him General, and no matter how hard you tried he'd be forever something he simply was not.

"I look like a fool." His voice grumbled from inside one vender deep in the heart of the market. "It's too short."

"But ye got such pretty legs, General." The man's voice more feminine then any woman he had come across, put his hand upon his hips and took a step back to admire his work.

There he was, a frilly blouse that ruffled, under the colors of the noble tartan, and wearing the kilt and all. Yeah that's right, the Egyptian Arab was well adjusted now? The shirt though one of the largest far too small in the shoulders, and the kilt coming up to the knees of Maahes's stout (yet long) legs.

"I am not pretty." Dark eyes turned to the open mouthed man to his side. Whose, purple attire told him a tale that made him want to protect his own. Was the man's tongue wagging like a dog? Was he in heat? Cause it sure did get hot in here. Or was he suddenly nervous?

"Oh I could argue that." The girly man's hand came to rest upon the Beast's shoulder, and he felt it burn through him. "Just cut these off," The man fingered at the tendrils of hair that went down the spine of the Arab. "I bet ye have pretty hair..black..and curly..and thick Mmm"

Yeap that's it, he was getting the H*ll out of here! It came out of him then, the Lion inside that just tried and tried and tried to be tamed. The little tailor went flying, screaming like a little girl and instantly the eyes of the many who passed turned to see the commotion coming from inside the building. It wouldn't be until Maahes emerged did they understand. Brushing off the loose bits of fabric that clung to his attire, the kilted male, who looked more like a catholic school girl dared them all to say one word.


Just one...please..someone say something he was more then ready to take a few heads. Nothing? Huff. Down the street he would start, just after leaving the right coin. The man had tried. Right?

[aoife]

Pouty lips still in a friendly smile would part a bit, turning her head to the growing grumbling of a crowd, gasps and whispers as she took the Lady's hand, tossing her a smile over her shoulder as she lead her towards the commotion she heard from through the window.

They were soon out of the castle, towards the market area, taking the steps carefully in the dress, for she wasn't in her usual working boots, but a more feminine shoe, petal shaped on her wee foot in a deep, deep red, the gold trim hem of her dress playfully flipped about those shoes as she carefully descended the stairs with the Lady. The curious smile turned into a full grin as she caught the "Painted Man" in the little kilt, it may of been big on her, but not very long, her brows raised nearly to her hairline before she pressed her free slim fingers to her smile.

Raising that hand, she'd wiggle those fingers at him, remembering she had seen him once before, her first and only time into the castle, "Ghooinney choar [my dear sir]! Ye need help?" Her grin was softened as she caught his eye, fair as he was not, she'd tilt her head, the hand that waved rested on round of her hip, lifting her hand that held the Lady's, she'd wave it a bit at him with that one too, to perhaps tempt him to her, she'd tilt her head to look up at Bess, "He is one o'yers?"

[Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem]

Help? In the wake of the dust from the dry weather Maahes found the eyes of the woman before him. The sun beat brilliantly down across the backs of those who moved through the streets; illuminating the already gold tones in the honey blond Duchess, and woman he had yet to meet.

"And you would do what?" He mused to himself, but his tone was anything but kind. The Arab was a brash man who relied very little on the aid of others, a stubborn fool with a knack for ruining relationships before they even began. In truth he simply had a closed mind, with very little experience of life beyond battle.

Arms would then cross across the ruffled chest, the green and blues in the tartan just flat out looking horrible against bronze flesh of his desert heritage. The sandals strapped over his feet, gave the entire look a Roman touch, but it wasn't what they were going for now was it? So in short he was simply a hot mess.

On a side note, look how cute she looked up against the White Hound, little petite seamstress standing next to the one woman who came the closest to his own height. Couldn't help but be amused now could he?

[Lady Liliana Campbell]

A brief glimpse of golden strands, the cheek of familiar face, and then lost into a crowd of commotion! To have been that close to spotting Bess and then to have her gone that quick made Liliana sigh softly. Lifting hands briefly in supplication, deep breath taken to quell the nausea, she mumbled,"What is all that commotion about?"

Slim brow lifting, Liliana clasped hands at her waist and strolled out to get a glimpse. Perhaps she'd find the Duchess in the crowd. Hands smoothed over a wrinkle in the simple lilac gown and she idly wondered where Kendrew was this day. She had missed him dearly and wished that-

Thoughts came to a halt at the sight before her. The grumpy General in...a kilt and ruffled shirt! Full lips curved into a smile, laughter clear in chocolate eyes, as one hand lifted to cover the giggle that escaped. Realizing that it'd be horribly rude to laugh at the man, she took a slow breath and stepped forward where she noticed the woman from that evening at Griffin Castle- her first time there- Aoife. A friendly nod given to Bess before she turned attention to Maahes.

"Perhaps you should allow her to aid you, General. I believe she has respectable taste." A nod was given to the woman's attire before she looked back at the man with a warm smile. The laughter was banked to keep him relaxed. That the man was uncomfortable seemed a tad bit obvious.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

She wanted nothing to do with the world but found herself a part of it again. Her hand, held fast in Aoife's, was put there with a good natured hold. The fiesty Manx navigated them from the castle to the thoroughfares. Wheeling and dealing, Scottish style. To say that she didn't find a comfort in the accents as thick as her own would be to say that the mist wasn't illuminated today by touches of the sun. She didn't sound alien here, but one of many with the same pea-soup thick accent. Some a little less, but all rather thick in the end. Could it be the blanket to wrap around, the sound to fall asleep to? Lazy feet in flat leather shoes of a more feminine variety found hard soles to meet the streets. Hints of ghillie lacings meanded up white legs just over the tops of her knee.

"Nay cupid's shot for me, dearlin'. He's lodged his aim rather thick in m'arse already, n' another arrow tae make new lover's wound? Och, his lairdship would nay approve!" The small leading the large. How her people delighted her so! On the hems of red-gold dress she saw the truth writ with a flip of fabric in Aoife's keen step. It was to her, to the likes of her, that lay the proving ground. Why that was such a hard lesson to take in was hard. Perhaps it was a divorce from the mother-land where blood of kin soaked in that disturbed her, the thought of being alone from, and not of Scotland.

But as it was, Skye had not been of Scotland in some way for many, many years. Long before the arrival of herself and Adam, before two lost children found home, and a moor's child became a Scottish heir. Long before all of the heartache, questions, ridicule and victories. Skye wanted little to do, perhaps that is why she floated so well in the deep blue. She could be bipassed and wholly forgotten.

Much like the people in this square, for instance. No matter what pomp brought them here the same people that threw flowers at their feet now milled around as if the people were but flies on the wall. A thrown glance over a shoulder at them deemed them no more than the oddities each town has to call its own. She all but settled inside of her own thoughts. Aoife asked a question, Maahes made statement, and even Liliana came to join them.

Still she said nothing.

A hand brushed her, or two. Maybe eyes looked at her, but like a things you have to return from the places you go. Beathag shook off the tiny bit of mist that stuck on the lids of her eyes in order to ascertain a rather comic reality. Ginger snort sounded in nostrils as she gave a quiet chuckle at Maahes' rendering of Highland man. "Ne'er dae tha' without fittin' women there again," she warned, not for their sake but for his own. All of them were learning to do or be more than what they were before. "N' ye forgive me, mind wanders n' sleep has been a hard thing tae come by, sae tis slow tae catch. Ye all know one another? Liliana n' Aoife, Maahes?" Just as she was going to speak with them, she placed a hand on each shoulder instead, a silent apology as she left the conversation to set for on some goings on outside of a street tavern. It was an old debate, over a story, older yet, over the accompaniment. The students at their feet were in all sorts of confusion, chords colliding on instruments. Little harps. The teacher stammered to see her there, "Tis the King's Harper, M'lady...ye should nay offend your ears with the rabble o' m'students.." He began, going on in Gaelic to which she was able to articulate far better in than English. Glimpses of who we are come in moments like this.

A black beast man could become civilized, the poor could be gentry, and the Hound could create poetry with her mouth and fingertips. There was so much against them now, and she knew that this sail would not unify them as she thought. Scotland was going to be severed. There was little they could do. They might try to piece it together, yes, but there was stilll only so much they could do. It didn't mean that all causes were worth abandoning. She watched as the teacher gathered order, and made harmony of chaos. Even more curious was how both teacher and she would set up their instruments, and so the Harper would join them.

To see this would be to see a glimpse of what it would have been to know her when her life was on the hill, just beyond the moor. It would have been a glimpse of her mother, Murieall, to which those that knew her now spoke of such to the party in passing. "Remember when ye'd go to a place, and Murieall would play?" or " I remember when she sat with me all night, making linaments for the men and nursing my sick child. She was a solace." She neither looked, sounded, or was her mother in demeanor....except..perhaps..the spirit of such lived on in the art.

She'd inherited a curious, marveous pair of hands. Long,lithe digits. Artisan's hands, they were called, from her mother's line. Those hands in the strings stilled the mouths of the young children, between three and eight they were. They left them agape as they tried so hard in silent mimic to fashion hands like hers. When they asked where her people were, she showed them with a gentle point of the finger, and they laughed. The teacher inquired questions of old music, and her knowledge astounded him. No, she was not a great scholar of literatures and philosophies, of rhetorics. She could not rival the great minds of the age across Europe.

But she knew the people well, and in the tradition of the Celts, she was enough. Of both Aberdeens, really. For all that they endured and the plights, for all the names of "witch" and "mad man," they were loyal.

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

Aberdeen From The Perspective of Kendrew of Dumfrieshire


To have come a few hundred miles wasn't a new thing to do. Soliders walk many miles before they rest their heads everyday, and sometimes they go a hundred more before they know the reason for what is being done. He had followed a leader bereft of plans and followed great strategist who were no better than blind clods in the end. Objective was not often as clear as duty, for objective changed with the need to survive. So on this, Kendrew was not quite sure of. It seemed to be a more basic word than many wanted to speak:

Resolution.

He examined the trip from the point of a simple man in service, with a servant's eyes and a servant's sense. He had been told to darken the steps of his lady in secret while those like Balian and Maahes followed them directly for the sake of an experience he neither needed nor wished. In turn, his path took him to the barracks of soldiers who dranke heavy mead cups given to celebrate their hard works. Kendrew saw it to mullify them from complaining and encourage sloth. He listened to the sort of men whom he marched with years ago one midsummer's day in June when Bannockburn called them hence. There was no poetry anymore for the victory, only concern where pride should have been.

Robert Bruce was losing the confidence of his men, and so it bred a dangerous ground for his Lord and Lady to be on. Such men will discriminate not at all. Any who were crown or coronet are a throat worth slitting. He did not know if they were near the point of murder, but it was never worth seeing. He deplored all the measures they could use. Hell, he hated the covert way he listened to his old fellows and judging them for crimes they didn't commit yet. A sickness was creeping hold in the North that had taken the South down to be little more than dog's at the feet of an English master. Where were the heroes, the warrior-poets, the true born native sons now?

These sort of musings were not much in the mind of a simple man for length or breadth, but he still could find answers as clear as crystal. They had died. Were going to die. In bondage. He had given of his own coin to pay the baliff's guard for the release of men who's petty crime was the bent of loss. There was a pikemen, a man of the calvary. Here was an archer. There was once a man his brother endeared to himself as another. "I am glad ye did not live to see this, Roric," he found himself saying, day after day after day.

He was glad for the annointed time and place where he found his charge at least in the company of others. He wondered if they thought to ask after him but if they didn't there was no matter. Like a speck of dust dancing in the light, he was but one man among many. And yet, he wanted a piece of something for himself. It was claimed, as his baritone voice caught the ears of Maahes, Aoife, and Liliana. "Good day, m'ladies, m'laird.." Wry grin formed as the sprite-like sense of humor manifested in, "Tis a bonnie sight you make, General. Hope the lady's still feel pretty about ye lad, give them a bit to be jealous of ye do." All the while, his arm would wrap around the shoulders of the tiny gypsy woman. It was not his usual place to be so open when about a sense of duty, but if she had only known what he had seen. What he had heard. So she was drawn into his arms with little fanfare, and a kiss placed soft on her forehead. He didn't want to ruin the reunion with a word just yet.

He worried what words would come to him later. If this was the climate here, what was becoming of his own home?

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Part I

The Kings are dying! In blood and flame
Their sun is setting to rise no more!
They have played too long at the ancient game
Of their bluer blood and the bolted door.

Now the blood of their betters is on their hands--
The blood of the peasant, the child, the maid
And there are no waters in all the lands
Can bathe them clean of the dark stain laid.

Beathag: The night surrendered the dark to a new day with the same old problems to fill it with. All the same, she kept them guarded as one holds on to a tome of knowledge that is not meant to be shared with the common lay person. Aoife was fine company, though. There was something soothing in listening to her banter for the best price. To barter with the thick headed clods, the shrewd housewives, and the wide-eyed wondering wonderfuls of the square. Hour clapped on top of hour. Little was said on part of the woman who swallowed the North Wind, exuding it in a thousand words. The bellows remained motionless inside, yet a smile was coaxed. In alleyways, the Duke met with unknown men who discussed with him clandestine things. In thoroughfares and streets, life went on as per usual. Tonight would be the night, friends. Ah yes, this night coming as the sun was growing lazy and the torch lighters running about.
Beathag would have to open her mouth in the expectation of a King who began his processional, but had not yet arrived (d)

Shaden: Shaden had arrived in the Square along with her newly aqured Apprentice... the girl was woefully lacking in clothing of that station and would stick out like a sore thumb at court so what better to do than take her shopping ! (d)

Grace: Following in Shaden's first steps Grace was amazed by all the people here , it was a bustling city and she had never seen so much activity in one spot before. Stopping and getting lost in the displays of a chocolatier she almost lost Shaden but quickly turned and caught up to her. " Thank you again Miss Aramoire.. you have no ide how much this means to me." A bright smile across her delicite features as she walked beside her, her curvacious form covered by a thin black cloak. (d)

Ealora As much as she wanted to support the duchess. She wasn't entirely sure she was the right sort to accompany the fine brave woman as part of the court of Skye to meet Robert the Bruce. Still, she swore her alligiance to the Duke and Duchess in so many words by joining the fleet. So she would play nice. For now. Dressed in black slacks that fit tightly to femine curves, the thigh high boots were held on by black straps and the Sais hidden just so with the tips hanging out for viewing from the side of the boots on either side of her legs. The red embriodered shirt was a nice touch and the black leather corset set outside, scandalessly with its many bucklers tucked just so. Russet waves were left loose to flow against her back as she moved about the room. It was stuffy in here. At least the pirate thought so, not used to four walls. Give her the open sea air any day of the week!*

Liliana: For once there was no lying abed! The cold, though slightly there in form of queasy stomach, would not keep her from being out and about. For being there this night for Bess. Liliana walked quietly behind the Duchess as she kept words to herself. (d)

Maahes: There had been a big change in the General since his time away. The Arab seemed to be more drawn to himself, and keeping himself more reserved in the darker parts of his mind. Where once was a break through in personality, he appeared to have taken two steps back from faint smiles and little laughs. Business was at hand, appearance everything and the shadow that loomed over his Duchess was just that--a shadow. With their arrival in the square, duty was at hand, thus he would skim amber orbs across every corner of the open space. Every shadow, every hiding spot; everything was searched like finding the X on a map. The X was danger..betrayal..anything out of the ordinary, and all else that could bring harm to his friends, his country. (d

Balian: The white cloaked one was no more then a few steps behind his sovereign. The heavy hood drawn over his brow giving just enough light to cause his gaze to drift along each passing soul. His form was well concealed under the heavy fabric of the clock licking at golden spurred heels save for the black woven hilt of the nameless sword gripped in a leather clad palm. The square proved lively enough to keep the White Talon Knight occupied with his duties. They had already encountered challenges along the journey and it would be by his last breath that harm come to those under his watch. He wouldn't rest until they stepped foot back on Skye soil that much he was sure. Ever the disciplined demeanor carried with steady arm he followed behind the Duchess and Aoife in his silence with the good General Maahes doing the same to his left. [d]

Glorious Myths: Aoife's smile never left, how her face did not freeze that way, it was a mystery. All the wheeling and dealing was interesting, they were very incline to work: with her, but many were not. She'd instruct them on where they were staying, for all the little things she gathered were not coming walking with her and the Lady. She even had made a sale or two of her own, a few items, some people stopping by the next few days to see what she could offer, it was a good day.Wide blues flashed about, smiling then again up to the Lady, brushing her small hands against each other before planting them on her slim, scarlet wrapped hips, the lovely red and god dress held up nicely on their outing, even her coiled golden locks. Perfect! She only hoped the last bit of the night would fair to well, she did listen to Morgen about how shaky things felt between Skye and the Host. -d-

Beathag: The people blustered about for the King was many streets away, and of yet if one did not need pay heed why cease business? Across the way was a risen structure above the crowds with a seat waiting for the King, and places for his advisors, women, and such. "He means tae test me each n'e'ery time.." she spoke low, eyes transfixed on the little stairs several paces away. "O'course it would nay be in the castle. He would put it forth n the streets." Amid a sea flushed rose women she stood as the one with thorns. A tense gaze, a terse tone as she adjusted the covered lap harp on her back. A lad dipped his torch in oil before setting it afire. New flames lit an aura on her face - where had the thin, red line across her cheek come from? Mystery would abound tonight, and a single sight of the king's guard seemed to provoke an audible snarl (d)

Shaden Shop to shop they travailed gathering a veritable trousea` for the newly arriaved Grace, footmen carried wrapped packages of goodies for the women as Shaden caught sight of the procession.. The Duchess in the lead.. followed by Maahes and Bailen.. the former in a kilt of all things.. and ruffles.. he must have lost a bet.. that was the only reason she could think of such a travesty for the General...and Egyptian Arab to be.. swaddled in a kilt.. that was not made for his long legs.. she hoped he had balked tradidtion and kept on drawers.. a stiff wind and all his glory would be out and about.. for all of Aberdeen to gaze upon.. Looking at the Duchess she had a momentary lapse of Guilt.. for her.. picidellos with the Duke.. but.. it was lost as she pulled Grace along.. after sending the footment back to the palace.. " Come Grace.. It seems as though we are about to have a show.. or some sort.." she grinned.. never one to miss out on the drama(d)

Shaden: Shaden would soon discover that Grace was no virgin when it came to shopping and spending money. Soon the footmen were covered in boxes with shoes and dresses , corsets, chamises, stockings, hair trinkets and such. Stepping into the street the angelic youth has discarded her cloak so that she dress she wore below was showing. It was an crimson dress with a gold tapestry trim along the short sleves and the empire waist line. The sleves of her cotton chamise showing along her arms as she reached back to the gold hair comb that was now pinning back half of her curls leaving on the shorter ones dancing and teasing against her cheeks. As they stepped from the shop Grace spoke for a moment " Really.. I can't believe what wonderful things Sco.." Her words stopped as Shaden did and those deep blue eyes lifted up to spy the group of people walking in front of her. She need not know who they were , nor what positions they held, the mere fact that she was stopped in her tracks by the group was enough for her to know they were important. "Miss Aramoire.. who are they?" (d)

Ealora: "Yo ho ho, a pirates life for me.."She muttered in a singsong fashion under her breath. She wasn't the singing type and it was more something to do seeing as everyone was on guard. Just what was this King like wondered the pirate. How well would things go tonight she wondered as she kicked at the dirt at the ground, her fingers looking for a belt that wasn't there and she swore in Egyptian as she pulled at the end of the corset top. Yes she could of dressed in the red egyptian dress but her dark attitude of late wouldn't permit it. Be nice Ealora, good girl, good dog. Celadon eyes rolled skyward, fraggle rock, what was she doing here. She could very well be on the Shadow sulking. She absent mindedly played with the golden Egyptian locket on her arm before the snarl reached her ears and her head lifted to see the King's guards. Hmm.*

Maahes: Every rose had it's thorns right? Bess's thorns just happened to have dreads and wear white cloaks. Test? Of course, be it of strength and force Maahes could pass close to anything, now throw him in a spelling bee? Not so much..Words were not easy when it came to The Beast, but how many words came to his mind seeing the mark on Bess's face. Words that belonged to drunken sailors and soon-to-be-dead Kings. Against the shell of her ear he dipped his head and whispered in the brash deep voice that carried like African drums, "It's for him to have witness in case of an assassination." Was that a threat? Oh, how he was dipping to the dark side. He had heard rumors of Eamonn's little scuff, and now there is a mark upon Bess? At the back of the Duchess Maahes planted a hand if only for a moment, a silent 'we are here for you' before he fell back once more. (d

Balian: His brow lift, close enough to hear the Duchess speak his blues lift toward the elevated seat for the King himself to find comfort and over see the square below. Balian gave a glance toward Maahes before his attention turned to find the rooftops for a long study. But it was the snarl from Beathag that had Balians grip tighten against the hilt in his hand. One command would have steel drawn and the fight would be on. It didn't take a wise man to figure the Duchess had no love loss from the elevated man above, how much would it take to provoke them into an all out fight to the death here in the square? He licked the front of his pearly whites and lift his blues back to the mob ahead. Lifting his free hand to lay his palm against another mans chest brushing him backward into the crowd for getting to close. His eyes narrowed just a little as warning before the man would turn and make his way off back into the packed street.[d]

Aoife: "Test? Fer a show? Tell meh wot ta do and Skye will flip his crown." A firm nod as the smile turned from friendly and warm to just beatific, dark lashes fluttering in such an innocentway before the eyes narrowing, turning the whole look impish. Back at Mann, she was teased she was one of the fey folk, too cheerful and curious to be safe for anyone. Slim, mostly bared shoulders would square, her fair neck looked elegantly long with the neckline and her hair coiled at the back of her head, a gentle, but quick pat of the arm was given to the Lady. She wasn't a citizen of Skye, per say, but she had found a love for it in a short time. The people were the main draw.-d-

Beathag: "Tis all for show. N' a poor show, at tha'.." She muttered to the Manx imp. Amused at her elegance, enchanted by the devilish sort of poise. Never put a baited trap before Beathag for if it were tempting enough she'd entertain the notion. Flipped crowns. She jerked in step only sightly as Balian pushed a man aside, drawing the women closer to her as a result. When all of them were close enough, with Aberdeen far enough away, she told them. "Say nothin' aloud. The King is partionin' off the Highlands...he is surrenderin' Scotland tae the Ainglish under the very eyes o' these people. Adam has caught proof of it. He has forgotten himself, n' if he shan't remember it, this is forthe murders o' the MacRauri, the Lord's kin the king will nay rectify, this is for mah family, n' for us now. Mah familiy be older than the King's familyk, sae this for them. As for myself." History was in these moments, "Ah have no King anymore. We're on our own." In the quiet of their nearness she renounced her King, a man she had watched literally take Bannockburn now was no more to her than dust. (d)

Shaden "The lady with the Harp.. She is the Duchess of Skye.. the Isle where we reside.. and soon to return to I hope.. I plan on purchasing an House .. to shelter the blossoms.... like yourself " her words were choosen carefully so that anyone overhearing might thing her a botanical conisuierre.. but in truth she was.. speaking of a Courtesan House .. and Grace would understand.. this.. it was propriety.. on the streets " Behind her is General Maahes.. and the Lord Marshal Bailen.. her Gaurdians.. Her ladies in waiting.. and other members of the Skye Contingent.. your... new people " they threaded their way thru to crowd to stand near the contingent.. watchingthe spectacal.. and though she seemed unaware of the political tug of war that King Robert wsa putting on for show.. she knew well.. what he was doing.. and Bess was the object of his... ire this night.. her heart stilled for the Duchess.. would she pass the test laid before her? Glacial hues scanned the area for the Duke... and Lord Statham.. intrigue.. at everyturn..what fun.(d)

Grace: As the man was pushed back by the knight he stumbled a bit into Grace's side. The crowd had begun to gather and everyone was clammering to see what was going on. Her small hand went out and slipped onto Shaden's elbow softly so they wouldn't be seperated in the crowd. " My word..there seems to be quite a lot of excitement going on." Grace only stood 5'0 and so she slide up onto her toes to peer above the heads and see what was happening. Upon hearing her companions voice her eyes moved from person to person noticing the man in the dreads and also seeing the Captain who had spoken of selling her virginity. She wondered absently if she was serious about that and if so if she planned on doing it soon. Wondering that, her mind wondered away for a moment but was yanked back in place with another push from a man beside her. Turning hre eyes she began to look over the crowd wondering who all was here. She had heard Shaden's mention of a house for her flowers and it made her lips turn back in a smile, God did work in mysterious ways sometimes. (d)

Ealora: She wiggled through the crowd. More like pushing them aside to come stand at Shaden side, oppisite her new little pet it seemed. The woman had transformed in less then an hour. Impressive. Then again Shaden never ceased to surprise her. Lips twitched, she wanted to smile and goad the poor courtesan but couldn't find the words. The full square made her nervous, people she didn't know. There could be danger around any corner and celadon eyes were shifting to seek any of it out. After a moment at Shadens side, she moved through the crowd again, shoving men and even women out of her way to reach the back of the Duchess. Hey her left and right were being guarded but not her back. Ealora could do that much for the Duchess who had given a good for nothing pirate a place to make home even as its people had given her welcome. Even one man, giving her hope at love though the chances of it coming to a 'happy ending' were slim.*

Maahes: At this moment very very very slim indeed! Maahes wouldn't even look at her, but then again he was in Gonna-cut-me-up-somethin' mode. Yes, that kilt and ruffles were replaced with leathers. Hell he didn't even tie his hair back for this one. Maahes was always nervous in crowds, but today he felt himself slide through them with ease. Confident, and very well aware of what was going on kept his mind on one thing--protection. However, in all his glory and state the Lord General could not help but smirk at the words leaving the seamstress's mouth. That would be a fight he'd pay money to see. Little 5 foot woman going up against Robert the Bruce. "Best we be on our own, fewer to answer to in the end." he muttered eyeing the crowd. (d

Balian: Balian's chin lift just a little while he followed still on the sovereigns heels. A white lion waiting to be unleashed. His eyes told that tale all to well. Hearing Beathag his brow lift once more. Lips parted to exhale a soft breath and calm the thoughts that nearly threatened to become audible. Surrender?....To England? He shot a look toward Maahes before his eyes went back to work at over looking the mob. "May the Gods give us the strength to fight.. and Wisdom to endure." Hell was coming, one way or another the battle would reach the shores of their homeland he was sure of it now more then ever. But the bigger threat now played into the streets. How would the people here and now take to the word? He cant his head just a little and shift his weight just enough to search out an escape route should they need to make a quick exit. "I serve no King... until my King wears a Griffon." [d]

Jack There was a light-hearted smirk on the Irishman's feature, as he made his way toward the Duchess routines and courtiers. There was a slow shake of his head, a soft sigh, as he once again admitted that he couldn't refuse his daughter's request. Tonight, it had been an un expected request. Seanna had learned that young Aodhan had trouble sleeping, she'd immediately turned to her Da and asked if she could please please please please spend the night with Aodhan? Pleaaassee? In the face of that, and sad eyes, there had only been one answer. As Jack returned from his reverie, once more catching slight of job. There was a nod of his head, approving of Ealora going up to watch the Duchess' back. As he closed in, he murmured softly, "Ye dun 'afta be sae harsh in getting' people ta move, Cap'n. Ya've just gotta be knowin' how ta carry yerself....." Take Jack for instance. Although he wore the dress uniform of the Griffin Fleet, the Lord Admiral still conveyed to the onlookers that someone you did not want to mess around with. There was a disciplined air about his form, but it more how he carried himself. The way that when the group stopped, Jack's feet would naturally come to rest in a fighting stance. The way he carried himself, the bit of tension in his shoulders, that showed he was ready for a fight. There was little doubt that if a fight were in the making, that Balian would go for his sword. While the irishman went for something else. (d)

Aoife: Hustle and bustle, her mouth shut? Ouch!! It hurt more than the foot that squashed hers but was soon gone. Petal pink lips puckered in a quick pout before she'd let the cheshire grincurl over her lips once more. The shepherdess was in a mood now. She was fine with pushing the English away, after all, who raided her lands? The English. Not that she spoke of it often, or had those here to speak of it to. Wide tanzanite hues flashed over the General before she moved that gaze back to the Bruce, she couldn't speak, but that wouldn't stop her from humming in that delightful way under her breath as a mob person eyed the group. What had she gotten into? Ah, God help them, for no one else would. -d-

Beathag : They came for a show and it was time to begin. As they assembled at the edge of the platform, a guardsmen would bow to them and allow them all to find a place amid the honorable. Who in this circle was honorable? The faces escaped her as sounds collided ot make one terrific din of whispers. The thorns of the Skye flower it seemed were many. Amidst the familiar were those who were curious, such as Grace, who would find the people Shaden pointed towards with no difficulty. Culled in fine clothes they still seemed as a pack of strange animals from an exotic land, with a Moor in their company, people of mixed ancestries. All led by a woman who saw over the tops of many feminine heads. " The King approaches!" The Crier's call turned heads as a clearing was made for his arrival as the ocean of his own courtiers assembled. --

Shaden: A knowing smile was sent Ealora's way.. the women had become more like sisters in the passing of days aboard the Shadow Storm.. more alike than any would know.. just to look at them.. the bond was strong between them.. a wink as the Pirate Queen moved off to guard the back of the Duchess.. The sight of Maahess in his singleminded "kill them all mode" made her shiver slighlty... and admit when he was like this.. he scared her.. thought she would never tell him..that in a million years.. no matter how many times they danced in the rain..Her thoughs on Ealora however were just as troubled.. a unhappy Ealora.. ment trouble.. and trouble.. seemed to find Shaden.. ohhh why couldn't they just kiss and make up? She leaned over whispering to Grace soflty " And that is Jack Flynn.. newly widowed.. Captain of the Fleet.. has a young daughter delightful child.. pretty little golden haired imp.. " her words were soft, but Grace would of course know to memorize the names and stations of the people she mentioned. As the King made his way thru the crowd they would all dip and curtsey.. Shaden making a fine example of just how low.. one could take that idea.. before the King.. her eyes lifting with shimmeriing fire to his just a moment.. before he passed.. (d)

Robert Bruce: He came to see the others played their parts. For his own, he was cut in fine cloth of red and white. How marvelous odd that he should wear the same colors as his favored harper,. He stroked a finger through his red, red beard. Blood hair over blood clothes. A metaphor none knew, save him, but he didn't come for that. His eyes were sharp as he looked over each of them (d)

Grace: Watching the Captain walk over to the two of them she sent a soft smile in her direction for a moment before the woman continued on. Back up on her toes she watched the rest of the people walking forward and noticed the Irishman that was following behind and quickly her fingers tightened against Shaden's arm and her lips moved close to the other woman's ear as she spoke in a whisper. Those gentle eyes watching him as he walked for a moment before smiling over to Shaden and laughing gently. Slowly slipping back down onto her feet she gave up any hope of seeing anything more as a woman with a large feather in her hat stepped in front. " Oh well bother it all.. " Moving that free hand against her hip as she sighed and turned her head looking around for something to stand on so that she might be able to watch once more. However as the King moved past she lifted the hem of her skirt and slide down into a low curtsy letting her soft curls slide down around her face like a curtain. However even then her eyes slide up and looked over in the direction of Captain Jack Flynn.(d)

Ealora Good thing she wasn't looking at Maahes for it was quite clear the General wasn't looking at her though the tension hung heavily this close to the Duchess. A turn of a russet framed head would turn to the Lord Admiral and there was actually a twitching smile on her lips for all of two seconds before it fell"Am I ever nice?"She retorted in a slight tease though she did slide over to make room for him. True if a fight broke out, there would be one hell of a show. Masses of running screaming people and two knights and one ship captain making heads roll. There was no doubt in her mind of it, should it happen. Folding her arms over her chest, she heaved a sigh until the announcement of the King reached her ears and she squared her shoulders back. Not to make an impression but anyone that bodded ill with the Duchess, did not sit with with Ealora.*

MaahesThat's him?" He snorted, eyes narrowing on the redbearded man. Lord he knew what Shaden was thinking who wears red with redhair Ugh, Clash! Little Queen she was. (d

Aoife: It seemed Aoife picked the right color to be in, ivory cheeks pinked as she watched the file in, bobbing and dipping as needed. -d

Jack: The Irishman laughed softly, shaking his head. His reply to Ealora's question? "Oh aye, ye are...." There was an arch of an eyebrow, "M'daughter seems ta think sae ... an' she tis a good judge o' character." The Irishman laughed just a touch, before turned his gaze toward the crowd. There was a smile, a crooked one, on his features. As had always been the question: who was on display? The courtiers from Skye? Or the Scots that came out to watch them? Perhaps it was then that Jack would see Shaden and Grace in the crowd. Jack smiled toward the pair of then, offering a touch of his fingers to the brim of his tricorn. Hmm. So Grace watched 'im, aye? What did she make of the navycommander? While some had called him handsome, t'was not without qualifiers such as roguishly or rakish before the word 'handsome'. It was easy to see why. Upon his features, just below his eyes, was a 'P' shaped brand. His nose? It had, at the least, been thrice braken. There was a smile upon his features as he saw them. (d)


Robert Bruce "This is a historic occasionan, taking place before us now, in my years of service to Scotland I have set about to make things right. This is another such thing. To restore a lineage, as old as Scotland, we are one Scotland! Those of Skye are our brethren. One country, one Kingdom. None other in Europa can say such!" He looked from the crowd to the gathered. At the handmaidens, dipped in respect. At the mixture of common, gentry, and noble. Didn't he use such a ploy when he sent a Declaration to the pope, or was that in a time when he believed what he said? He came to the Moor in Scottsman's clothes, "Is this country with taking as your own, brother?" (d)

Grace: Raising up after the King passed by she nodded to Shaden as she excused herself and headed towards the castle. " I'll be there shortly I just want to see what happens if you don't mind? " With a gentle smile she pressed her lips against the other girl's cheek and turned back towards the crowd once more. The footmen followed Shaden to Bruce's palace leaving Grace on her own. She noticed Captain Flynn's gesture of greeting and it caused her cheeks to flush with color for a moment before she lowered her head in small nod of hello. Moving her eyes up towards where the Duchess stood she was trying to see what was happening but was having horrible luck. Seeing a wooden crate about ten feet ahead of her she started to push her way through the crowds till she reached it and climbed on top. Now standing literally within arms length of the naval officer she kept her eyes on the King and the Duchess , atleast she tried to, but she couldn't help but steal a glance every so often. She did notice the P and the slight offset nose but it was more the aura of his presence that was appealing. In either case, her attention was turned towards the King as he began to speak. She was new to Scotland and Skye and so all of this was a bit confussing. Had she been the type to follow politics she might know what was happening but she wasn't so instead she simply stood atop the box watching. (d)

Ealora The side of her mouth curved upward into a smile. She couldn't help it as she nudged the admiral in the ribs. Playfully of course. Damn flirt. Celadon eyes returned to watch the display of the King. Clash of color wasn't there? "See something you like Admiral?"She'd quip until her mouth pressed shut at the arrival of the King and the apprentice courtesan. Hell she wasn't above embarrassing the woman but she wanted to hear what the man was saying. When he moved and addressed Maahes, her head turned to watch the General and then the King and back again. Oh, this was not good.*

Maahes: Arms would then cross over a broad just as he made eye contact with the man. This was it..that moment where everyone held their breath, would Maahes f*ck everything up? "It's not something I would surrender to the English." Yeah he went there. Stoic and impassable, Maahes stood true to his words, but his feet however moved but one step forward. Face to face with a King, his voice growled from his lips, "At least without a fight." (d

Jack: The Irishman smirked at Ealora's reply. There was a nudge right back toward her, as he followed one of her brief gazes toward Maahes, ".... could be askin' ye tha same. Did nae peg ye as one tha' liked a man ina kilt...." Jack himself had already worn a kilt a time or two, for Mairi. Then he glanced back up toward the king, watching how the Bruce interacted with the Moorish General. There was cant of his head, before he glanced toward Grace once again. Was the Bruce to interview each of the Duchess' routine in turn? (d)

Robert Bruce: "A man of war, indeed. The face of the Isle now seems set on breeding the likes of great warriors from its breast. Ye sound like a native son, talking so." An observation, a ludacrist statement too enshrouded in something of a means to incite a reaction. Still, he moved on among them. Were they individual thinkers, or devoted to their sovereign? He wanted to see this. Loyalty to a ruler who was loyal to a land was admirable, especially if founded in truth. He wanted to see how they all angered, to see if they were merely a pack of noble attack hounds. If the Blackamoor was merely a show-and-tell piece. Next he looked to Captain Flynn,"And you, Irishman. What cause ties you here instead of your own native soil. Is it alliegance to the land that gave you a place to go?" The Duchess was led to a chair where she would set up her lap harp(d)

Ealora: Sensing a fight approaching, and not wishing to be in the mist of a mass upheaval of the mob surrounding her Grace decieded it would be best for her to head back to Bruce's palace. Turning around she moved her eyes towards Captain Fynn's once more and nodded her head towards him. Pulling the hem of her dress up to show those small black velvet mary janes she wore as she stepped down. Making her way through the crowd she stoppd in front of Ealora and Captain Flynn. Her eyes moving over towards Ealora first "It was a pleasure to meet you this evening Madame I do hope we meet again soon." The moving her looks towards Captain Flynn she nodded her head softly. " Good evening M'lord" Her eyes met his a moment letting them linger before she slide past him causing her arm to brush against his own as she made her way towards the Palace and .. hopefully.. a bed. (d)

Ealora: "Depends on whos wearin it and whats underneath...are you offerin to wear one now?" Ealora quiped again with another nudge to him, since he nudged her back but she gave a sigh of relief. Maahes was true to his words, she expected no less from him but part of her had wondered whether he would give the royal pain in the ass a royal beating, hmmm, would of been amusing to see the kings feet fly up over his head from a moorish punch. Her head didn't even turn asthe man addressed the admiral nor would she turn her attention to Jack to give him any attention, not because she didn't want to but all eyes from the crowd were on him and she didn't to be party to that. Nosey buggers.*

Jack: Fortunate was the Irishman indeed, that Grace had dared slipped from the crowd and approached the grouping. Jack had seen Grace move from the crowd, offering a half-turn toward the woman, and resting his hand upon his belt. When Grace had offered a good night, before departing, the Irishman had smiled, "An' a good e'enin' tae ye, m'lady....." It was as Grace left, and as he watched her go, that the Bruce approached him and asked. Jack needed no time to think up a response to what the Bruce had asked, "As ye say, m'lord, I be an Irishman. An' we dun care all tha' much fer such things as crowns, flags, an' kings....." He turned to meet the Bruce's eyes equally, "I 'ave 'ad tha pleasure o' owin' allegiance ta only one flag fer much o' mah life -- an' she t'was a black flag at tha'. One tha' saw e'ery crown o' e'ery nation set ta try an' tear it from me mast...." The Irishman was quiet for a long while. "E'er an' always I 'ave lived m'life upon tha sea... I am an old man now, but still dae I feel tha sea's call in m'blood an' tha ache o' adventure in me bones. I come 'ere an' stand fer Skye, nae because it tis some scrap o' land tha' I 'ave built a house 'pon -- tis much more blue 'pon maps than' brown, an' sae long as I have a boat, I 'ave a 'ome. Nor dae I owe allegience ta tha' Griffin flag. M'personal banner still flies from me mast an' tha ship tis still mine. I stand 'ere, fer Skye... because o' 'er." And the Irishman would steadfastly walk toward the Duchess' right hand side. "I 'ave known tha Duchess afore she was tha Duchess o' Skye. She tis, 'bove all thin's, m'friend. An' wit'out a doubt, me oldest an' dearest. Fer 'er, I stand fer Skye. Stand fer what Skye represents. Fer 'er I'd fight away tha' navies o' other countries an' burn their ports ta tha very ground itself. E'en iffen tha Griffen banner were ripped down an' trodden upon, I'd be a terror ta tha bastards what done it' Doubly so iffen m'friend was endgae. Any crown would fear me, an' e'ery flag'll bleed cause o' me.... e'en yer crown, e'en tha Thistle flag. As ye said, I be an Irishman. An' we care more fer keith an' kin an' friend ten times more than we be carin' fer crown an' king." (d)

Robert Bruce: He couldn't help but think the Lord General simple but poignant, and the Lord Admiral as wise. Be that as it may his trepidation around them intensified. If she were offended, or knew the sort of dilemma Adam faced, one step away form being declared a traitor to his country, what would they do? One Irishman, a blackman, and more of varying flesh shades were told to serve the Aberdeens. Devoted love to kith and kin translated towards a sort of obsession his advisor warned him of. "Tis good to see my Lord n' his wife, the Harper, are attended by such devotion." He looked to Ealora, but he had enough of questioning women by audiencing with the White Hound herself, so had no room in him to stand on supposed equal footing with heathen women. --

Beathag: Twenty-two wire strings glinted in the light as she settled the cherry wood harp in her lap. Smaller than the beautiful, thirty-six string family heirloom that traveld the sea to this place, it was no less renown of it's own accord. Commisioned as but one of many musical gifts, it was catered to the Harper's hand, a hand that was rumored not to be able to play. Death's mistress could procure a sweet tune when she wished. The Bruce fell to silence, as did others, as she poised her hands to pull at the strings that set them ringing like bells in an old gaelic song. The language in her mouth made it sound true, comfortable. It was no wonder English was almost a forced blasphemy. (d)

Ealora: She hugged her arms tight to her chest. Perhaps she didn't understand the song, or recoginize it but it was beautiful, stunning to say the least. It made her feel her guilt ten times more and how she wished to reach out and touch the man in front of her, to clasp his arm, his hand. Fingers turned nearly white as she gripped her arms tighter as lids slid closed so she wouldn't have to look at any faces, fearing they saw what she felt but also to slip into the tune being played.*

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

Adam walked back to the King’s castle after the assault… his mind continuing to reflect back upon what was said to him under duress…

All that evening, and the day that followed, Adam remained isolated from others... even his wife and son... He would watch the procession from his bed chambers window. No he would not go to Bess' recital for the King... for Robert Bruce's words to the people would only set upon angering him, for he knew the truth...

Still... he could not resist... he donned his black and gold... and starpped a sword to his waist... Long strides and an assured gait brougth him to the rear of the procession to the castle square...

Standing far away, but yet close enough to hear the blasphemous words Robert spouted... made Adam ill in the stomach... a quesiness that only Skye could heal... He missed home... but bess needed this... her installation as King's Harper...

Glancing around the crowd, he watched... and smiled as all the members of Bess' entourage... the entourage of supporters... Glancing down, he knew he was not there as she would want him to... but other things lured him away... the deeds yet to be had... Lord Statham... and yes, even his Father, who he knew would brew troubles at home...

From a vendor, he bought some sweet candy... one to his mouth, another to the vest.... one for Aodhan later. The vest...! The paper...! Watching Bess perform made him forget his troubles... but this paper brought him back to reality...

Was the glass half-full? or Half-empty? Neither... it was just water... and he wanted a drink for his thirst... He was a realist... neither pessimistic, nor optimistic... He knew Skye was united.... save for several trouble-makers... and at Peace... save for a few squabbles... but Scotland... she was divided... and half-owned by England now... and he had proof that Robert was going to sell parcels of the Highlands to keep the English out... That was not the plan... King Robert the Bruce did not keep him as Lord of the Isles to be handed to the English ona silver platter... Adam just sighed and turned from the crowd... once again he pocketed the paper...

THE Kings are dying! In blood and flame
Their sun is setting to rise no more!
They have played too long at the ancient game
Of their bluer blood and the bolted door.

Now the blood of their betters is on their hands--
The blood of the peasant, the child, the maid
And there are no waters in all the lands
Can bathe them clean of the dark stain laid.

They have sinned in malice and craven fear-
For the sake of their tinsel have led us on
To the hate-built trench and the death-drop sheer,
But the day will come when the Kings are gone.

The Kings are dying! Beat, O drums,
The world-wide roll of the democrat!
O bugles, cry out for the day that comes
When the Kings that were, shall be marveled at!

As he entered his chambers, he removed the robe, removing the paper in his vest… upon it were the exact words that had been told to him… How could a common assailant write down the words… most were illierate and would not be able to write their names, much less prose…? He thought… “therefore… it must be someone of some importance… who would dare seek me out and lay a knife upon me…” he had risen from the bed and stolled to the mirror and spoke aloud to himself… only to look in the mirror to find Bess standing quietly listening to his outburst….

[aoife]

[from before the night, at the kilt viewing]

Aoife's fair features were still glowing in that pleasant way, her free hand would pat the Lady's before she'd gently let go. A light step up to the Painted Man [are you getting the reference yet?] she would lift little fingers and then tap them against his shoulders, her head leaning from one way to the other, throwing a Thanking Smile towards the newest arrival. She had a lovely look to her too, though looked a bit under the weather.

And then there was a RRRIIIPPP! She knew it! The short, very poorly constructed, another tear of fabric, then a third. She was done for the shirt, picking a bit of string from here or there. The ruffles were gone, she was soon picking at the shoulders of the shirt, pulling to and fro and then, the shirt looked half way decent. At least his way home would not be hindered by too many snickers.

She'd step back a bit to look at the man's knees. And then she'd laugh, a hand going to her stomach, the other to her lips, not hiding the laugh, for she couldn't. "Aye, aye, help.. yer shirt, too short and too ruffle. The ..kilt..weel, yer nay Scottish, are ye? I tink trousers! Dark or light, but not knickerbockers!" And she'd giggle again before hugging herself and giving him those twinkling blue eyes.

"I 'ave a few men pieces at me cart, down the thoroughfare. Ye come and look?"

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

-- Part II --

Beathag: Twenty-two strings on a cherry-wood instrument. Twenty-two bell-toned strings that had stilled anyone from the motion, save but to watch the Harper at work. Stars bled rivers of silver in the twilight and the Gods leaned down to listen as the woman of Aberdeen paid homage to home. It seemed as if though, in breathing, all hand transgressed on a moment between lovers as the tune spoke to the land. It sighed in accord, whispered promise as wind and notes twined in a continual mating trist. The Gaelic? Tongue of an Empire, for a moment, of an empire as worthy of history's note. Like Rome, like the time before even Hadrian's Wall. The King's face twisted as if she played on his own strings, gave his feelings voice Guilt, obstruction, apology. A mother spoke to a native son - so he listened - indeed bid all listen - for a second night. On this night it was not twenty-two strings, but thirty-six strings to make voice on pieces that had traveled through the isles for 400 years..--

Robert Bruce: In his moment of selfish desire, he wanted four centuries of history displayed brazen on the erected square beside the colors of his countenance. But it only made him ache more for what was done, yet it couldn't last. He stood upon his feet to speak, and he spoke on many things. The importance of recognizing unity. Of being one. Of how this was his dream. Along the walls of Aberdeen, the archers pulled back their bow to the bend of the harp string trembling, to the Bruce's voice. People reached out for the king crying for all to be one. None knew it yet, nor did he, that significant numbers of his dream, the pieces of it, had come to Aberdeen seeking to flee from the South of Scotland, but on Aberdeen's walls would meet their deaths, and go unheard for it (d)

Shaden: Shaden was in the crowd.. has slipped unoticed by many, into the throngs.. her eyes serching for the Duke.. many important things were needed to be relayed to him.. and while Bess's music was exquisite.. more often than not Shaden would have stood in awe at such talent.. but tonight.. of all nights.. it mostly fell on deft ears as she serched for Adam.. parted from the company of Maahes, Ealora and Grace.. half in shadow.. she was growing flustrated.. at her inability to find the Duke.. if he dind't get this information. soon.. something terrible would come of it.. she knew deep in her heart. (d)

Grace: After dinner Grace sat in the room reading a book quietly while Kate slept but she was restless and something was nagging at her mind. So she had paid a young maid at the tavern two coins to watch over the sleeping girl while she headed out into the night. She knew Kate would be fine there and left word with the girl to ring the tavern's brass bell if she was needed. So she lifted the hem of her white dress and hurried down the steps of the tavern and out to where everyone was gathering. She knew it was a bad idea, but it was like a itch wishing to be scratched as she moved through the crowd of people. That 5'0 young maiden was dressed in a sheer white dress that was empire waisted and hugged her slender frame. Her long auburn ringlets pinned up against her head and a white piece of ribbon tied around her neck like a choker. Standing on her toes she looked left and right searching for someone. (d)

Ealora: Grace had gone to watch over a girl she had never known of and Shaden disappeared into the growing crowd with business...or so Ealora took it as such though she made no remarks or questions at the sudden disappearance. She merely flowed as gracefully as a lady of the court in that red egyptian dress. A thorn amongst wild flowers. Fingers laced together as she wiggled through the crowd, growing closer to the music that had even the night before plucked at her heart and soul.*

Adam: Adam was in the crowd... street clothes once again adorn... the dark blue cape upon broad shoulders, the hood pulled over his head... sea-green eyes scan the crowds.... meanwhile his heart strings are plucked, hearing Bess play... This was her time not his. The smile crossed his lips as he saw the lass... weaving thru the crowd, he ambled up behind her... a friendly man wrapping his arm about his woman viewing the King's Harper.... none knew it was a planned meeting... with a whisper... "Tis Ah m'lady... how did the meeting with Statham gae??" ::::

Rosalind[/b[ Rosalind made her way through the streets, having long ago lost the women she generally kept company with on such outings. She had spent a considerable portion of her life as an independent woman, and never had taken well to traveling in a gaggle. As she moved closer to the center, she could hear music swelling around the corner and quickened her pace. Kept up in her lady's waiting, she never knew quite what was happening in the town, but Rosalind always enjoyed a surprise. She came to a rest near a small family to watch. *

Kendrew: Under the starlight, the banners, and torches the music would play. Did they not hear it? Or maybe it was the fact he had years to hone his senses. Perfect, bitterly perfect. At least they heard heaven when they passed on, he thought..At least twas tha' much.. He as but a pair of men moving along the wall, taking arms, pointing, yelling at the defenseless. "Ye'd defend Aberdeen from them! They are burned n' look at them, STOP!" He shouted. Too distant to be heard, he witnessed it. The indiscriminate command issued as the people ran towards the gates. "We must see the King! We must speak to the King! Why was my land taken? Help us! Please, why do you harm us we have nothing!" Charred remnants clung to blood drenched clothing, crackling to a stiff dryness from the long journey. Thin, they became boughs easily broken from a tree gone weak. "The King won't stand for it!" He said of the men, wrestling a bow from hands. Snapping it, he ran down to the gates. Did any of them make it in? God was merciful, if only to make their deaths.....quick. A body fell at his feet. An old woman, her blood on his shoes. Another clung to his tunic. That one, a child, but it would be a woman who hid behind him, muttering a name, and another, proving familiar enough to be pulled up in to his arms. She begged to be taken, begged to see the Bruce. Kendrew was a man who said little, and on this voyage seemed to do little. But what he had been told to do...what he did now? On the far corners of the crowds he began his own processional. What could not be seen from the wall, was slowly causing a stir in distant streets (d)

Shaden: Asoft smile as his arms came around her, his cheek to hers as he whispered.. for all intents and purposes it looked like a lovely couple enthralled with the music of the Harper " He is .. detained.. at the moment unharmed.. Shall we say tied up.. until he has no futher use.." her hand lifted to caress his cheek behind her ear..while her other reached beneath her cloak passing him a satchel.. " You will find deeds to Scottish lands.. signed over.. to the English.. parcels of land. that are.. perfect for defense... or offensive attack.. also one inparticular.. McKinnon.. already signed and sealed.. yet the Family was slain just two days ago.. and the only living heir... is in my keeping.." the import was great.. murder had been commited upon Clan Leaders.. so that England would have it's foothold.. She turned then in his arms.. and smiled up at him.. adoringly.. those in the crowd nearby would even note the mans certain luck to have such a beauty look at him with such love " I hope I have served you well.." she leaned up as if to kiss him whispering soflty " the McKinnon Tartan and Broach are in the satchel.. the girl will want them back.. when all is done.. what happens to Statham now?" She leaned back her arms about his neck for all the world knew they were lovers under the spell of the Harper(d)

Grace: As her blue eyes moved along the streets she made her way across the city's walls she was still trying to get accustom to the way around this place. Tho as she walked she heard something.. something that seemed very out of place. It was the sound of crying, not like a child or someone in despair but cries of pain and deep sorrow. Grace's brow furrowed a bit as she moved her head against the city walls and reliezed it was coming from outside. Wondering what had happened to cause such sounds she moved towards the gates but her footsteps were quickly halted. Watching a man moving down the streets with a bloodied woman in her arms. A gasp was quick to form against Grace's lips and she turned lifting the hem of her skirt she ran she had to find Shaden.. Jack Flynn.. Masaah someone. Something wrong.. terribly so. (d)

Aegraine: Aegraine stood, attention to the platform and took in all the talks; most she could understand as the accent became more familiar to her. She folded her arms, embroidered Irish designs show from the cuffs of her dark blue-green coat dress. On the the other side of the little family group, she spied Rosalind and nodded and waved to her, in recoginition. It was going to be educational, to see how this Robert would manage politically what in her homeland was done with sword and starvation; how to unite a country. This was going to be good. Aegraine crossed her fingers and waited, hopeful. (d)

Maahes Of course there was a resistance to the aged knight whose arms carried a voice in Scotland. Who would want a crazed man bringing a bloody woman before their King? Their swords were drawn, one by one they waited their turn to stand in the way of Kendrew; a band of three. Three? Really? That's it? Bess was a little enchantress who knew? Gold strings of amazement, from long fingers that could easily kill just as they could play. Maahes had felt the itch of battle, like the threat of rain to old bones he felt it in his soul before it ever happened. He looked forward to it; lived by it, sworn his flesh to it. Upon the back of one man the Egyptian Arab pulled the man to his chest, one arm wrapping his neck and squeezing like a python upon it's prey. With his free hand, a long arm extended to take hold of the sword drawn hand and turned it upon the other. "Be still fools, or I'll snap his neck." Already the knight's face was turning purple from the crush, but the men put down their blades. "I didn't kill em Kendrew, proud of me?" He waved the sword as if the temptation was still there. "Now get her to the front, Old Man." (d

Jack: The Irishman had, for but a time, been lost in the tunes of Bess' harp. There was a soft, contented smile, upon his features. Then, as if a fae spell had been broken, the Irishman became aware of what was going on. Of swords being drawn, of a Maahes being his usual shelf, and a fight in the making. Let those like Balian, Maahes, and Kendrew be the ones that reached for their blades. The Irishman's right hand would cross his body, as he reached for what was held in place on his belt. His hand would caress the very butt of the device, feeling the onion-shaped bulb at the put of the grip. The Irishman took two steps closer to where the men were reading for a fight. When the Irishman spoke, it was with a cool voice, a voice well attuned to the sound of roaring gun and crashing wave. He spoke to the Bruce's man, "Ye lot! Ya stand side now, 'ere ye'll 'ave 'Ell ta pay!" (d)

Adam: The music carried thru the air to his ears... she was good.. and he smiled... and...Shaden was good... she passed the satchel to him and he smiled at her... caressing her, taking the case under his cloak... But his heart sank at what was in the satchel... This woman... this courtesan... had done what the Duke could not do... she was able to find proof to satisfy his accusations... Scot blood had been shed for the sake of land for the English... again !! and the King was involved... As the lass turned in his arms and hugged his neck... he smiled... "Aye lass, yae serve mae well... Ah be proud o'yae..." the satchel hiddden, her arms around his neck... the music so soothing... his wife angered at him and his actions... he fought the senses that flooded him physical being... he HAD to reposition himself in her arms... "Keep Statham indisposed for now... much more is tae coom... Ah feel it in mae bones..." Just then the ruckus of the crowd came alive...::::

Rosalind[/b[ She stood on the fringes of the crowd, her eyes half-closed to better hear the music. She drew little attention, wearing a dress of muted burgundy, and to keep out the chill, a shawl of natural wool. Perhaps she was someone of import, but just beyond placement, enjoyed a quiet anonymity. The music transported her to another occasion, and with the crisp air cooling her exposed skin, could find nothing amiss with the evening's plans. An errant breeze carried with it a sharp note at utter discord with the harper's music. She opened her eyes, struggling to place where it had come from. Though she tried to ignore it, to pass it off as some normal city-sound, there was a sense of despair that suddenly made the hair on the back of her neck rise. As she scanned the crowd, she noticed a familiar face and lifted her hand in a wave. The tiny gesture seemed to ease her tension for just a moment. She made her way to Aegraine's side and murmured a greeting, determined to shake this strange feeling that something was off. It was easy to create imaginary spooks this time of the year, with early nights and bitter weather. But perhaps her instincts were right, she observed, seeing the sudden change unfold. She wished she had been wrong. *

Beathag He nodded his head to Maahes. There was no thanks, for it was what they needed to do. There was no salutation of respect. He had little much to spare but his motion to bring the girl forward, and a growing apathy that twisted his face. Like a wraith he advanced, moving past Rosalind. Did the girl in his arms harken to her, eye to eye they'd meet? Someone might reach out for her, and the man snarled. The hand would recoil. They left a track of bloody steps the crowd behind them closed up. "KING! This woman has traveled long to see you, has questions of you. Hear her."" That was not a request! From a man who's place to him was so clear? He put the girl, no more than fourteen perhaps, at the foot of the stairs, as she moved up on feet that gave way. Clutching the hem of the king's robes, she said. "Please, please! They burned our homes and others! The North of Edinburgh is burning, in the country! They said if we would not swear our selves to the English overlord we would pay, and the men were made..to join the army of Edward..they took m'brother! Your Majesty..please....why do they say this is at your will? Why! " He pulled away, Robert the Bruce did. He gazed in shock, stern judgement as he called this girl herself a spy for them that did these things. People looked at her...and the guard advanced. She ran until she was at the mercy of the Harper, who stood on her feet in a face gone pale. The girl was held in her arms then, and ordered guards to capture her didn't move to her..because of the arms that held her. (d)

Shaden She noticed the reposition and laughed softly " my my what.. large.. teeth you have.. " she teased.. as a man moved behind her pressing her futher agasint the Duke.. her hands grasping at his cloak to keep from downright falling " Statham will stay afloat.. should you need his .. words " in that sentence he would glean where Statham was being kept.. as she righted herself once more.. placing a bit of distance between her softness and his.. not so softness.. at the shouts behind them she turned.. alarmed as she heard the voice of Kendrew above the din.. her face showing the horror of what was played out before her.. " And so it comes to light.. " she whispered only for Adam to hear.(d)

Grace: Those small feet pounded against the uneven pavement as Grace sped along the streets. Her heart was racinging against her chest and her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, it was hard enough to breath in a corset let alone run in one. She stopped tho as she got to a crossing and looked around utterly lost and unsure of where to go, turning in small circles her eyes searched for a familiar face till her ears peeked at the sound of music. Dashing in the direction of the enchantress's lovely playing Grace hardly noticed the music as she hurried through the crowd of people. She was searching for a face.. any face. Soon tho , as if by the hands of fate, those crystalline orbs landed on Captain Flynn's face. Pushing through the crowd she moved up to him and spoke softly but quickly. She didn't want to set off a panic or interrupt Bess's playing. Reaching out she pressed one of her hands against his right forearm as it held his sword. " Captain Flynn.. " Her words were broken by the pants of her breath " Somethings wrong.. theres people outside the gates of the city. Their dying.. and a man .. covered in blood and carrying a woman" Some of Grace's curls had fallen against her face as she ran and when she heard Jack speak to someone behind her she spun her head and saw the stand off between them all. She didn't know who was right or wrong or what was happening... all she really knew .. was that tonight was a bad night to be wearing white. Standing against Jack with her back towards him she watched the girl and heard her words. Grace was a sensitive soul, and the thought of so many killed, house burned and all for English blood. Her eyes began to burn with tears for the ones who had fallen at the orders of this King(d)

Ealora: The commotion had her head turning this way and that. Fraggle rock why had she choose to wear a dress tonight. Panic was tearing through the crowd like a hot knife threw butter and somewhere head she saw Kendrew leading a girl to see the King. She took a step forward when a flash of silver caught her eye. A guard dressed common for safety and placed within the crowd to protect. From somewhere within the dress, a Sai was pulled from a sheath and poked at the mans back, enough to let him know it was there"I wouldn't do that if I were you..." she kept her wrist at an angle that the wrong move was the right move for her as her eyes found the girl in the duchess arms.*

Aegraine: There was a distrubance in the orderly attention of the crowd, the russle of those trying to see what was happening and their muffled querys to their neighbors quit at the man's voice speaking; "King.." She craned to hear better what this King was going to say, how he reacted; like English? He seemed to her rather like those who came into Ulster and lorded it over ...but he was not English. He is Scott. Can this make a difference? Either way, she was seconds from Ian's dagger , if need be. A poor defense; but are words better? (d)

Maahes: A trail of blood lead from the streets, while the commotion kept on the King and those who addressed him, yet where there was one, wouldn't there be more? Secretly under the cover of shock he moved in silence to the streets. The deafening chill of the square was made up for the crying faces of wives, mothers, sons. The arrows littered like the fallen leaves of Autumn. One by one bodies fell the same. She was the season of death right? Sleep. They were just sleeping. That's what Maahes kept telling himself, they were just sleeping. Dirty faces that mother's had yet to wash, just asleep. That's all. The sickness that was felt at sea was nothing like that of this. He felt his stomach turn and everything he had ate prior was on the brim of returning. From the wall he heard laughter from men who had abandoned the sight. Watching the crowd they were now, yeap. Mistake. Big One. True Story. Always with the animal side, the Beast pressed forward then and frankly could not recall how he got up there so fast. Yet there he was, standing at the edge of the wall only to see in the distance a cloaked figure walking the very same path; save for the other side.

Amhlaidh: He watched as the General let go, silently..perfect, that man had a bit of a brain left. Maahes made his job much easier. It gave him time to let his body position itself on the wall. An assassination? Maybe. However, a once father to the Hound had made himself scarce for this reason. The less she knew the better the chance he had to protect her. Crossbow fell over his wrist, and from there he would wait. Wait, for either his shot, or for the General to kill him too. (d

Jack The Duke of Skye was in good company, when it came to bearing his teeth. When the poor woman -- oh nae, nae e'en tha'. When tha poor lass came an' begged of the King to know why the Anglish were comin' inta Scotland, an' how tha King reacted? For but a few moments, the Irishman was gob smacked. This was how the Bruce thought of his subjects, how he behaved when the needy beseeched them? The Irishman simply, for a few moments, stood there and looked appalled. When Grace appeared at his elbow, as she told him news - no doubt, she had witnessed the same scene that Sir Kendrew had come from - the Irishman began to make a sound in his throat. A low, violent sound. One befitting a dog more than it befitted a man. The Irishman locked eyes with the Bruce, then said, slowly and clearly, "Ye best be remembering' what I said, yer 'ighness...." There was violence in the air. And the Irishman's hackles raised. "Iffen m'friend tis put in danger? I shall burn e'ery foe tha' foe 'as ta ash an' cinder, an' I shall fly 'nother flag from me' main mast..." The smile the Irishman offered was predatory, "An' it shall be tha bloody one." As if a rallying cry for the men of Skye, the Irishman raised his voice -- although not yet a true yell, " Nae surrender! Nae quarter!" Jack gently shook of Grace's hand from his right arm, producing the device - a wheellock pistol- from where it had been clipped to his belt. Jack used the action of drawing the weapon, of guiding the doglock against his thumb to lower the doglock against the wheel. A fight was in the making. And the Irishman could very well be the match tossed into the powder room. (d)

Adam: Adam kissed the lass lightly, and whispered... "Thank yae... Ah'll be sure yae gaet wot yae want at home... naew find safety with Kendrew..." then he made his way toward the stage, where Bess... and the King stood... now : Kendrew and Maahes... and good ole Jack, using the new weapon... he could not help but smile at it... but this was no humorous matter... Skye residents would not stand for such atrocities... Making his way to the stage, the satchel hidden under the cloak, his face hidden under the hood... his identity ready to be revealed should be necessary.... At the stage... Adam shorns the hood, the satchel in his hand... "Skye... Stand down...! Hold... then he looks at the King... "Stand down Robert..." not King... not M'Lord... just his name..IT now depended upon the KING... .:::::::

Rosalind "I know her," Rosalind said softly, distinctly accenting the middle word, as if stumbling upon recognition only after the man had brushed past her. She'd had a few years to find her balance again in the wake of her crippling accident in the south, and merely took another step to right herself rather than betray her disability. When she looked up again, the man and the girl had progressed to the platform. She only caught a few words, but like a good portion of the crowd, was too curious not to creep forward to hear better. *

Kendrew: "They are takin men n' lads by force, women to make as whores. All through the South, n' they are on their way to burn to the ground any town n' city that refuse them!" In 1328, those that had fought for the cause of freedom woulddefy the one man whom time would make a hero. On the orders of his Duke, his real sovereign, he still did not hold...not completely. "They are burnin' to the Dumfries, " The piece of his name. His home. He spat at the feet of the "King." tearing down the mantle he gave as gifts to the warriors of Skye ...

Beathag: "Move not.." She said in reinteration of her husband's words. Had he been there, the whole time? Where? What was going about that he did not tell her...so many questions swirled in the thicket as the girl clung to her, falling near to her knees with exhaustion. The child would crawl to the platform's edge, afraid for what would come. It would be then she saw Rosalind.."God is gracious...my lady...my lady?" she reached for her, near close to being crushed underfoot.

Robert Bruce"It was them that did it!" shouted the Bruce, "They were along the walls, n' no trouble had Scotland till the heathen rabble showed, their plans are treacherous, death to any that follows them! I will nay be still in m'own damn country. Arrest them! E'ery last one of them. The sentence is DEATH. Immediate Death."

Beathag She could see the guard, advancing, yet afraid too. Heathen curses, gunpowder, steel. Supersticion and common sense. "Do nay lay a hand on my mah people..." The crowd, roused, fell to a stunned hush. The King' schief guard struck back, calling Beathag the Devil's consort, poisoning the mind. He struck back at her with a heavy hand encased in hard leather inlaid with bands of steel. This was the third time a man sought of her submission by force, and by Gods, it would be the last. Her head turned, and instantly the bruise began to form. (d)

Shaden: Kissed lighlty he withdrew to the platform.. she melded back into the crowd.. following along the edge till she was near the contingent of Skye.. all eyes were upon the People on the platform.. Beathag, Adam, the Bruce, his cries for their immediate Death.. her heart sank.. her information had come to late.. eyes looked about for Grace, her apprentice and Charge.. seeing her near Flynn.. and in danger.. she turned to look for an avenue of Escape.. but saw nothing that would be of use to get the innocent girl out of the midst of the bloodbath that was soon to happen.. Shocked she watched as Beathags was harranged and called the Devils Consort..the world had gone mad, upended on itself..(d)

Grace: Watching the tensions rising all around her she looked from person to person and found herself suddenly in a very unlucky spot. Standing on the stage between Jack and his gun and King Bruce. She felt like someone who had walked in half way through a show and was lost as to who everyone was. As Adam walked up onto the stage and lowered his hood she hear the sounds of shock and awe rush through the crowd and thought that this was a good time to arm herself. Slipping her hand up the right side of her dress her hand wrapped around the hilt of her dagger and slipped it out. Keeping the blade turned up and pressed into her forearm she stepped back to the side of Jack and waited quietly her eyes darting from one person to the next watching. However when she heard that King Bruce ment to have them all arrested and killed her smile fell. That soft sweet look usually held on her face turned, her features hardening and her blade twirling down to be exposed and slide out towards one of the guards as they approached. " Lay a hand on me and you'll be singing castrato." (d)

Ealora: She had held the sai posed at the one guards throat but the call to arrest and kill the people of skye had another skye pulled out and posed at an advancing guard. It was then the devils consort comment reached her ears and her eyesturned in time to see the duchess beind backhanded. Fire lit in celadon eyes, if he wanted a bloodstained street. He was going to get one.*

Aegraine: Aegraine could see Jack Flynn, from where she stood, taller folk blocked her seeing Grace beside him; "no surrender; no quarter" echoed from that last battle, burned in her mind and heart; It was like an insight to what she thought was English mindset. She edged her way through and made her way to as close to the platform where Robert, the Harper, the young woman and others stood upon and clenched her fist, trying not to yell out what boiled inside her.(d)

Amhlaidh: Oh HELL NAh!! Fire! Crossbow shot to the guard who dare struck his baby girl. Wasn't even the man he wanted to kill, but darn that one had first claim. (d

Jack: With but a command and a thoughtless action, the King had give Jack his head. And the match was tossed into the powder room. The Irishman stepped and pivoted, turning to bring his pistol to bear on the Bruce. But out of the corner of his eye? The Irishman saw the bailiff strike Bess. The Irishman offered a feral snarl and pivoted once more. This time, the Irishman extended his arm. The barrel of the wheellock didn't waver, even once, as Jack took his aim. Was the boastful chief guard reading to smack Beathag again? Or to say something pithy? Any thought that bailiff had doing so, quickly left his head. Along with the better part of his brains. Once the Irishman had let his barrel point at the bailiff's head, all it had taken was a gentle caress of the trigger. The metal-toothed gear of the wheellock whirled slightly as the springs were set into action, the teeth of metal grinding against the flint striker gripped in the dog'shead. Then there had been a brief pop, a few sparks as the gunpowder in the pan ignited. Then a roar, as the weapon itself fire. Demonstrating the rather unsporting advantage of the handgun, the pistol ball flew straight and drew -- punching cleanly through the front of the bailiff's helmet. And exited the back of his head. As the bailiff hit the stage, the Irishman was hurriedly putting his pistol back on his belt, to draw his blade. As terrifying as it was, the wheellock only had one shot. (d)

Adam With a flick of the wrist, the cloak floated to the ground... the satchel about his neck and shoulder... the dagger shifted to better reach, he started up the tairs to the stage... listening to Robert, he just smirked and looked to the crowd... From the stairs, he held up the satchel... "Scotland... Hear mae... Ah have proof of treachery... nae by Skye, but by yaer own King... Tae sell Highlands tae the Ainglish... Tae sell yaer heir'tage..." he saw the man strike Bess and quickly moved toward her.... the dagger pulled from the belt... Just then a bolt from the blue struck the man in the chest... and the man's head exploded all over the stage... "Jack..." he muttered... as the man fell, he knocked over the harp and fell over the back off the stage railing... Moving to Bess, he stands between the King and his wife...he smiles at her... " Ah luv yae..." said softly... then he moves to Robert., dagger in hand.. "Ah taold yae if'en yae acted wit Aingland... Ah'd step in... for naew, yae kilt Scots... tell yaer men tae stand down..." just then, Bess would notice her harp... and the bottom with an open trap door in the base... Adam looks to the crowd...and then the king... "WELL?" ::::::

Rosalind: She saw the Bruce and shivered beneath her wool shawl. So many men in her life had answered his call to battle. Not all had come home again, and those that had, had left bits of soul or limb on the field. Only encountering the Bruce in passing as a member of his sister's court, they had never exchanged words. She wasn't sure what to even say, though, if given the opportunity to speak. Hearing the girl's words more clearly as she slowly approached the platform, well aware of weapons present even if she did not understand the one the Irishman was wielding. Retreat or advance, both paths were looking equally dangerous. She could hardy resist the pleading of the girl, one she recognized as once being in the service of Campbell in the southwest. Despite the growing agitation of the crowd, the violence that hung heavy in the air before igniting with the roar of the Irishman's weapon, Rosalind removed her shawl and wrapped it around the girl. "Easy now," she whispered, drawing the girl close to her. "I remember you, child. Who could forget your face?" Her accent was strikingly different from those on the platform. That, and it seemed she was the only one not shouting to be heard. Discretion, she had learned, was often the better part of valor. *

Beathag: The world was falling a part right before her eyes; all that was Scotland. Gone. All that was honor, noble, and brave. Gone. She watched the baliff fall to his death from a crossbolt, a pistol shot, and the edge of a knife. Stumbling back against the arc of the harp, she held it to keep it from joining the ruins. Four centuries of women to serve. May they be placated now! Her head shook rapid. Adam's back to her as he spoke his words - the same words before he would set to do something insane.."Adam...Adam no!"

Kendrew: "My Lord! Hold! Don't do it..DONT! He isn't worth it...He isn't...We must get your wife, your son...and leave this place! READY THE SHIPS!" Kendrew came up under to Adam and rushed him, holding him back from a place where he'd never be able to walk back from. It would bury them worse than this, if he murdered the King or his associates.."Come away, My Lord! Come away!"

Beathag: The base of the harp had shaken open in the chaos on the platform. She crawled under the men who moved in to the crowd, flattened her belly to the wood and cried out as her legs were stepped on.Still, she fidgeted with the jam. What was it glinting, sparkling. With a further tug and a push forward, the great antique harp leaned over, cushioned only by the heads of the fleeing. She'd pull it backwards..and there, inside

Grace Since Grace was standing with her back to Jack she didn't see him prepare to fire so when the loud crack of the gunpowder. It was so close to her ear that it case her to raise her free hand and press it against her ear and in doing so she lowered the dagger a bit. When she did the guard saw his chance and moved in quickly reaching out an arm to grab her slender waist she stepped forward and plunged the eight inch long blade into the man's stomache. Pulling it out she was careful not to get blood on her dress as she pushed him back and turned on her heels. Leaping off the back of the stage she ran as fast as she could back to the tavern. Back to where Kate was still asleep peacefully.. without any knowledge of this drama unfolding. (d )

Beathag: of the Harp the entire time was what men died for, Maubrey murdered for. Inside her legacy was Adam's, kept safe. "Is tha'..." The King said, while Beathag bellowed out, "Kendrew! Let..let him gae..Let them gae!" She had foot marks on her back where she'd literally been stepped on (d)

Ealora: "Ah ah"She warned as she stepped away from the two guards she had been holding back. The call had gone out from Kendrew to ready the ships and she would be damned to be the last to fall behind. Twirling the blades to her wrists, she winked to the two guards, blew them a kiss then disappeared into the crowd in a flurry of red cloth.*

Aegraine: Calls out to Robert; You are safe from that Baliff, now, Your Majesty! " Desperate to distract him from why the Baliff was no more, Aegraine clung to the edge of the platform, in attempt to block his line of sight to a fellow Irish man with a wheel lock.(d)

Adam: When Kendrew let go of Adam, he shoved the dagger into his belt again... his sea-green eyes were on Robert until the king looked past him... then Adam turned and saw Bess on the floor of the stage at the fallen harp. Quickly, he knelt by her... "Are yae alright m'heart?" :::::

Beathag: "Adam.." The Brooch of Skye was the size of a woman's fist in the shape of the Northern Star, inlaid with rubies, sapphires, diamonds and gold. She thrust this in to the proper keeper of it. Years agone, further still years of intrigue all came down to a moment when the world was falling around. Was this why he was burning through the South, or did he think the brooch in Skye, this Lord Maubrey? The way the Bruce spoke of it, Adam would know he'd heard the stories of it and sought it out, this piece of lore. "She had it..all along, the 'arp. The Chamberlain was right...we 'ave tae get home...we have tae gae back now." She bit into her lip, her forehead coming to rest on his leg. In the rush from the platforms, in the chaos of the crowd she had been stepped on. As the smoke cleared, all that remained would be the baliff's body bleeding in the wood, people in shock, the crowd, pushing away. The King watched on, and somewhere in the melee Kendrew had been taken hold of by the guards to be placed under arrest. Soon they would find him again, free him from the prison,for the Bruce to call for their deaths in the face of a massacre and riot would be folly (d)

Adam: Adam had something thrust into his hand by his wife... and when he saw what it was... his eyes grew large... and he held it to his chest... then he put it in the satchel and held it close to him... Rising and nearing the King, he spoke to him... "Ah say we all gae back tae the Castle and discuss this as leaders... but first, Ah want all mae people free... and secure in the castle... save mae crews... ah want mae ships ready to gae... we depart for Skye upon the morn tide..." then he looks to Bess and smiles::::::

Aegraine: Now she is worried; will those of Sky take her back from Aberdeen or is Aegraine stranded?(d)

Robert Bruce: "There's little to discuss," he snarled softly, looking over to the woman who laywith her head gently against the stool where she'd sat. As the smoke cleared, the mist parted so to speak..he'd see his Harper in the way he'd once seen her mother many years ago. Guardian of far more than just history in words. But its proof (d)

[Lady Shaden Aramoire]

(earlier in the afternoon )


Maahes: "I owe you a drink, Shaden..and a good meal. Our last one was ruined." He smirked as he passed through the streets his voice a rumble underneath the waves of laughter and people around them. "Besides, Jack would kill me if he knew wasn't taking care of you while he was gone." Over his shoulder a look was passed as he realized his long strides got ahead of her, and he stilled to let her catch up. The Arab even opened an arm to receive her should she wish to take it.

Shaden: She laughed softly as he caught up to her, a shopping bag swinging from one gloved hand a light fall cloak shrouding her small frame, then passed her up with his long speed walking strides.. a fine copper brow raised as she stopped. Then laughed again cheerfully as she caught up taking his arm.. " You honor me Kind Sir with you invitation " while Jack was gone.. things between then had been put right before he left on his little expedition.. and she was.. well gloriously happy.. positively radiant even.. " And I admit I am famished " she elbowed him good naturedly like siblings these two seemed to be.. always.. poking and prodding.. but.. dare mess with the other.. and all hell broke loose. such was their relationship.

Maahes: Only each other was aloud to pick on the other right? Maahes was almost hesitant to even return to the tavern, but he was a creature of comfort. He had been given one good meal here, therefore it was the only place to eat. Even though the streets were lined with many different vendors and exotic foods there was an educational gap between he and the rest. Maahes was a man who could break down the walls of those around him, pound through their faces with his fists, and take lives by his bare hands alone...Yet, he was afraid to order even the most basic of dietaries; afraid he would say something wrong..or offend the vendor. So inside the tavern they swept, the door wide open and room scanned for any sign of that man and his cloth of doom. Ni ni juice, as Aislin calls it. Here, M'lord this will help you sleep. Boom, he was out. "Then order whatever you want, just order 2..and pick your seat."

Shaden : Once inside she allowed the General to take her cloak.. and drape it over a chair he held for her.. she could sense his.. hesitation in each action as if striving to get it right.. a delicate hand patted his forearm softly " Your doing wonderfully " a little wink of dark lashes over glacial hues that would be missed by most.. but was meant as encouragement.. how odd it was the most fierce of warriors could be brought to a standstill by little things such as decorum, manners, and language . The Tendress approached them bobbin a curtsy and looking at the Moor as if he were an apparition.. she almost crossed herself in the trinity before a Stern copper brow from the Courtesan stilled her hand... " what is fresh and on the spit tonight?" she asked.. allaying any need for Maahes to try and pronounce the strange Scottish dishes.. haggis.. ewww!

Maahes: The Tendress was given a look, the one only given to a stranger..by another stranger...a stranger that wasn't very polite. Apparition? Ha! He'll take her outside and show her what that word means! The woman would then go about talking of the day's menu, and eye Shaden's shopping bags. Once the woman was given her orders she went towards the kitchen leaving the pair to their table. "Are you still staying on the ship?" Was that a little hint to try and dig up information about Ealora? Why yes,, yes it was. It had been three days since they last spoke, and to him it felt like an eternity. However, he was very angry with her, and very could be for a very long time. "Or are you with Jack at the Inn?"

Shaden: She folded her gloves together and placed them into the inner pocket of her cloak.. after ordering a pot of tea, with honey and lemon, a platter of roasted lamb with fennel and root vegetables.. and a pumpkin tart with crème.. as the Tendress moved off she smiled knowing full well the question of her lodging had nothing to do with her at all " Actually neither.. I've a room in the Bruce's Palace.. I was alone.. till last night when I took on an apprentice lovely young girl named Grace.. " she eyed him with a sisterly look.. " Though I hear Ealora is near as miserable as you are " couldn’t' hide much from a woman who's living was predicated on sizing up men, and knowing what they wanted now could you ?

Maahes: "I'm not miserable.." He huffed and sat back in his chair crossing arms over his chest as he went. "and I didn't ask about her." Amber orbs of liquid fire narrowed at the Courtesan, and he took a deep breath. "I've not slept since." he blurted out, meaning to tell her where he had been resting his head at night, but in fact he had not. He had took a little cat nap this morning with the other men as he waited with the army, and that would get him through the day. Normally he'd be asleep with Trades somewhere in the streets. It seemed they both hated to be held in, and would just find a barn somewhere along the way and pass out. (d

Shaden : " awweee " a sweet yet pouty lip mocked him adoringly.. " I can tell by the bags under her eyes she hasn't either.. I saw her yesterday afternoon.. after Jack left out on his expedition.. we had tea.. She's regretting her actions something fierce.. " she fell silent while the Tendress laid out the tea service.. and all it’s little silver accompaniments.. quite confusing perhaps.. a basket of fresh bread and a crock of butter assuring them the meal would be out soon.. "But if you do not wish to discuss.. it " she then took an extraordinary interest in the bread.. buttering it just so.. and laying it on a plate for him.. then begin to pour the tea.... was she waiting for him to admit he wanted more information on the Pirate.. well yes.. she was.. confession was half the battle.. to hear ones on admissions out loud.. was to put them in persepective..funny she had such sage thoughts on love when it was other peoples lives she spoke of.. But her own was the most messy place you could find.

Katerina: ** Katerina had found a small abandoned cottage to stay in until she could make her way to MacKinnon lands after she had presented herself to the Duke and Duchess. Cleaned up a bit and wearing a pale sea foam colored gown, her hair in dark mahogany waves down her back. She came to the tavern for something to eat and then be on her way again. There was no way for her to hide the bruises on her face but the ones on her arms were covered by the sleeves of her dress. With shaking hands she opened the door to the tavern and walked in, panic filled her body and she wanted to run, but made herself walk in and find a table
away from others. She was a stranger here and knew not how they would react at having a English Earl's daughter in their company.**

Maahes: There was a distance then placed between them as he thought about the Pirate, hell last night he even reached out for her in the middle of the night pretending to sleep. "So do I." He whispered, meaning he regretting so very much. "It was a good dream." He whispered, knowing that he just flat out couldn't love a Pirate. Of allll the things, she had to be that. Like Shaden, Ealora wasn't willing to give up her dream for one man, her ambitions She had worked so hard to get there how could he ask her? The doors swung open behind him and instantly his alarm went off, and body tensed for a fight. Turning quickly in his chair he took hold the woman with his eyes and saw the marked face. Was she another victim to the very same man who tried to take Shaden? Maahes would rise, and in doing so every patron would almost dive under the table having been watching from the corner of their eye. "Shaden." Check on her will ya? Would have been what he asked if he already wasn't going for the door to scan the streets.

Shaden: " You both reacted badly..to the situation.. and I feel my part in it.. as well.. had I not.. danced.. with you.. in that... manner.." she poured his tea sitting it before him with grace and decorum, pinky finger held just so, as she indicated the choice between honey and lemon for his tea fixing her own, then with an ungodly amount of honey.. and just a squeeze of lemon.. after tasting it she continued.. " Then perhaps she would not have danced with him.. like that.. and well.. in any event you had no need to rape her reaction to you to prove a point to Sam.. considering he is a bung-holer " when the door swept open and the girl was seen.. she frowned.. the rest of the conversation forgotten as royal blue skirts swayed toward the bruised girl.. " Miss... are you.. all right.. do we need to find someone for you.. what has happened?" a delicate hand was offered to the bruised cheek..

[Lady Shaden Aramoire]

(continued play from above)


Katerina: ** Katerina looked sad and scared all at the same time, so much so that with every sound she was glancing around worry and fear on her face and in her eyes. Could she have been followed? The still fresh images of her dead parents flitted through her distraught mind. She all but jumped out of her skin when the woman approached her... gasping loudly " Yes... yes I ... I ...am fine." her clasped a hand over her thundering heart. Her eyes would tell a much different story. She began to tremble... her voice was soft and held a mixture of accents. English inflections with soft under tones of a French accent topped with a faint brogue. Sapphire eyes looking about nervously, the Tendress approached " Can I get ye anything' lass?" she said with a smile. Katerina just stared blankly " Some hot tea please." she turned back to the woman who had scared her " No need to get anyone.... really." how much should she reveal. " I...my parent's.... we were attacked a few days ago." there it was out sort of and the pain of that day raced back to her.**

Shaden : Shaden had to be the least scary woman on the planet.. barely five foot tall.. all copper curls, ruffles and lace.. warm and endearing smile.. " oh your poor dear... " her hands settled on her shoulders.. " Have the authorities been alerted.. the attackers caught.. ?" her voice babbled on as she turned watching Maahes check outside for anyone following the girl.. as the Tendress moved off.. " there there.." she smoothed the dark hair back from her brow surveying the damage to her face.. " your safe now... "

Katerina: ** The woman's hands on Katerina's shoulders made her wince. She was bruised from head to toe and had several deep cuts as well from when she had run through the woods to escape. " Nay, I have yet to tell the authorities." tears began to fill her eyes. The woman's touch was gentle and made Katerina yearn for her mother even more. She had seen the large giant of a man walk outside after she arrived, but let it go. " I.. I should not have come here... they could be about still." her voice barely a whisper. Her lip was still swollen and the slit in it began to bleed again, she wiped it with the back of her hand gently. " M'Lady I thank you for your kindness, please tell the Mistress Tendress I am sorry, I have to go." she reached into her pocket and took out some coins to pay for her tea and turned to leave.**

Grace: Never in all her journeys , in all her life, in all the places she had tried to call "home" had Grace felt as welcome as she did here with Shaden. The young girl looked vastly different then she had the night before. Those auburn curls pinned up and back in a intricate mess on top of her head with a few falling against her slender neck and softly freckled cheek. Stepping through the doorway of the tavern she had promised to meet Shaden at she felt as if she were walking on air. That five foot stature dressed in a nearly sheer white dress with an empire waist line and delicate embroidery of diagonal lines running across the front. Below which could be seen her white cotton chemise. The dress was cut low across her pale bosom and a piece of white ribbon tied like a choker around her neck. The appearance of Grace in white would certainly not have helped Captain Eldora’s preference to think of her as "angelic". Moving further inside those crystalline eyes moved over to her friend only to find her with speaking with another who looked in a most dire state. Standing in front of the door Grace's tender face narrowed a bit in concern. " M’Lady are you alright?" (d)

Shaden: Shaden had reached out to take the girls arm keeping her from bolting, her voice firm and brooking no quarrel " You go outside you will nae be safe.. sit.. have some tea.. and let us attend your would Lady " she almost dared the other to.. deny her request.. just as Grace arrived... she smiled then to cut the tenseness of her words.. " you are among friends.. and you look half dead.. please.. take your ease " to Grace she motioned to join them.. before chancing a glance to see what was taking Maahes so dam long.


Katerina: ** Katerina stilled as the woman's hands gripped her arm causing another wince to hiss from her bleeding lip. Looking at the woman Katerina's vision began to blur, the blows she had taken to her face and head still having an effect she did as the woman bid and sat slowly. Her body ached and she really had nowhere to go except back to the small abandoned cottage. " Truly I will be..." her words cut off as the other woman approached. She toyed with the cup of tea that had been set on the table in front of her " Thank you Mistress... I am grateful for the kindness." her heart was slamming against her ribs and her hand shook harder now. " Half dead? If you only knew...." she whispered. Katerina felt so small though she was a hair taller than the woman before her. She looked up at the woman and slowly reached for her hand as if holding it would soothe away the horrors of the last few days.**

Shaden : After Grace had seated herself.. Shaden then took the seat next to the newcomer.. " This is Miss Grace.. and I am Shaden Aramoire... and you are most welcome for the kindness" her hand was captured in the girls.. and she squeezed it softly... " now dear... just relax.. and have a spot of tea.. and something to eat " she waved the Tendress toward them.. who was already carrying a bowl of thick stew accompanied by some bread.. " Your parents were killed.. have you any other family.. close by?" she had detected the subtle accents and knew the child was not from Aberdeen at all.. which meant more than likely she was.. and orphan of circumstance.. much like Grace..

Katerina: ** Katerina blinked several times and looked over at the one called Grace" Greetings to you both I am Lady Katerina MacKinnon- Matheson. My mother's family are those of the Clan MacKinnon here in Scotland. We were on our way to see them, after paying respects to the Duke and Duchess.... when ... when we were set upon." her voice hitched. Her face grew paler with almost every passing moment and her vision danced causing the women to look as if they were swaying in their seats. The smell of the stew that had been placed before her was delightful though she did not really have an appetite. Instead she pushed the food around the bowl. the movement made the sleeve of her dress rise back from her wrists... more dark bruising was there in the shape of a hand print... a large hand print. " Really I am much better now... I should leave." her voice sounded desperate and sad. She laid the fork down she had used to push at the food with and rested her head in her hands and softly began to cry.**

Shaden : " And where would you go Kate..?" she softly stroked the girls hair as she began to sob.. " We.. are of Skye.. in the Duke and Duchess contingent.. here in Aberdeen.. you are with friends.. anywhere else you would go would be.. alone.. at least here in our company you are safe. " her words were soothing and comforting as she looked once more toward the door for the General.. " General Maahes will see to it that you were not followed... have no fear in that " she pulled the girl upward a bit.. " Now.. finish your dinner and tea.. " a soft linen handkerchief embroidered with tiny fleur de lis.. in gold was pressed against her tear stained cheeks gingerly so as not to refresh the pain of the flesh there.. Meanwhile her mind was working overtime.. on things that a Courtesan shouldn’t really know.. but.. a spy would.. McKinnon.. the lands in the South.. some of the family lands on the deeds... her brow furrowed as she tucked away this information to give.. to the Duke later.. perhaps Kate's family was slain, because they were holdouts.. something was niggling at the base of her brain.. she needed to talk to Adam and soon.. her eyes turned to very dark t.. then.. as she continued down the intriguing pathway that had opened before her..

Sometime later …..

Grace: As her hand patted Grace's she smiled and slide her own on top of hers. " I'm certain.. besides I think Shaden would prefer less company with her at Bruce's palace and a night of joy and laughter can heal much more then any salve." She smiled as she stood up and walked over to the tender. Speaking to them quietly for a few moments before she made her way back to the table with a key in her hand. "A bedroom to serve you well for the evening and the tender says they serve breakfast as well." (d)





Shaden : Shaden had been away speaking with not a tender.. but a message boy.. to whom she had sent an urgent message to the Duke requesting a meeting.. as soon as possible.. once done she returned. to find Grace and Kate falling into friendship easily as was want to do for girls in similar situations.. " Now what have you too been up to.. while I'm gone.. hatching plans already " she teased them hoping for a t least a semblance of a smile from Kate

Katerina: ** Grace's touch was soft and light like that of a sister perhaps if she had had one that is. She watched as Grace stood and walked over to the tender and instantly felt alone. Only to have her return with a key in hand, her eyes filled with tears once more. Never had she met any so kind... especially to a stranger. Shaden had returned and teased them and Katerina laughed softly. The first in many days and it felt good though it did hurt to do so. " Nay, we were hatching no plans merely getting acquainted." Her vision kept blurring and their faces swam in distorted ways, she shook her head softly " More tea?" she asked as she poured some for herself. . She was trying hard to be brave, but some one dropped their mug on the floor and the loud clatter had Katerina leaping from her seat looking around wildly.**

Grace: Seeing the tears in her eyes Grace knew her pain, the loneliness , the emptiness. But she said nothing, instead she turned her head and smiled up at Shaden. " Welcome back, of course we're plotting. I've acquired a room for the evening and thought that perh.." But her words stopped when she saw Kate jump and Grace's face turned to Shaden with a soft frown. Standing up from the chair Grace put her hand on Kate's shoulder carefully. " Perhaps some rest? ..You look awfully pale and you're been through a lot. Why don't I show you where the room is and you can rest for a bit?"

Shaden : "Actually Grace.. I would ask that.. you stay with Kate tonight.. please.. I think the palace would be to much excitement for her " she nodded softly at Graces suggestion the girl get some rest.. thought the reason she wanted Kate no where near the palace was that if she was right.. Kate was supposed to be dead.. and the poor bruised girl now stood in the way of a legal and binding document to turn over her family lands to the English.. " I'll have some pageboys bring over your things... in a while.. I have some ... business to attend to.. " allow both of them to think she was meeting with a client.. or some other such carnal delight if they wanted.. but instead she was perhaps making sure that Katerina.. future did not include a casket. To Kate’s suggestion of getting her things... Shaden Added... " Tell me where the cottage is.. your to exhausted to go alone... I'll see to it your things are brought to you I promise " her words was her bond.. as she poured herself another cup of tea.. and smiled at Grace adoringly, quite the little apprentice she was going to be .


Grace: She nodded her head and looked over to Shaden with a smile. " I thought perhaps you would like your privacy tonight and already made arrangements. The tender said the room had two beds." She turned towards Kate as she slide her arm inside of the other woman's as she nodded her head to Shaden. " I think that's best, you're very pale Kate and you probably need to rest. I'm sure Shaden will be able to determine everything of importance." Picking up the key she smiled towards Kate waiting for her approval or denial of the idea. She was an adult after all, no matter how much Shaden and Grace wished to care for her they couldn't make her do anything against her will.

Katerina: ** Katerina looked at Shaden with eyes that were questioning " Thank you for I would appreciate that very much. It is not far just on the edge of the woods... it is in tatters but served it use to me.” her arm twined with the Grace's own, she began to sway on legs that could no longer hold her upright. The room was spinning out of control and all the blood seemed to drain from her face. " There is a small leather satchel under the bed... that is al I have......" her words trailed off as she passed out right there in the middle of the tavern.**

Grace: Grace could feel Kate swaying , her legs growing weak, and she had escorted enough drunken men to know she was about to take the great plunge. " Shaden! " Was all Grace managed to get out before the lady's weight was on top of Grace's. Grace was only 5'0 and little over a hundred pounds. So as Kate slide down so did Grace. Eventually ending up sitting on the ground with the unconscious woman sprawled across her lap resembling a human blanket. " Ohhhh oww my assssss " She groaned as she leaned back against her hands and sighed. She knew Kate was fine she just needed rest and so she leaned back on her hands and looked up at Shaden with a sigh " Now .. would you mind explaining to me my dearest who this woman is?" (d)

Shaden : Shaden looked alarmed to begin with as Kate started her downward plunge.. but.. the comical sense of it brought a small chuckle to her lips " Not your ass... dear.. your bottom " she corrected Grace as she waved to the burly tender.. tossing him a few coins to cover both the rooms and baths for the ladies.. and the soon to come hauling up of Kate’s body to the room with a nod he picked up the passed out girl.. from Grace's Lap with ease.. and headed up " You know as much as I do Grace.. her name is Kate " purposely not using Katerina's Family or whole name.. you never knew who was listening " And just like I took care of you last night.. you will return the favor.. because.. that is what fate has in store for you... " she winked.. at the dark haired girl before holding out her hand to help her up.. " Up you go dear"

Katerina: ** Sweet oblivion had finally claimed her exhausted body and mind. She heard Shaden and Grace speaking but it was all garbled as if they were talking under water nothing making any sense. Then she felt someone lift her in strong arms, she winced slightly but never woke. Darkness swirled all about her and she felt as if she were floating, the man carried her to the room that Grace acquired and laid her gently on the bed. There was not a place on her body that was not marred with dark colored bruises and scrapes. Katerina was small framed and light skinned which when seen would make them seem that much worse. She mumbled something in a mix of Gaelic and French, her eyes moving beneath closed lids. She sank deeper into the darkness to rest and heal.**


Grace: " Bottom... bottom..ok .. I have no qualms against spending time with her, it will most certainly bring a welcome distraction my latest obsession." She sighed and took Shaden's hand as she stood up and brushed off her dress. " I'm just curious, as to who she is .. you seemed to know her. " Shaking her head after a moment she motioned for her not to answer. Walking back to the table and sitting down she lifted the cup to her lips as she sighed. " Could I ask you some.. personal questions Shaden?" (d)

Shaden : "Your latest obsession?" she chuckled as she moved to gather her cloak.. and gloves.. " And what pray tell would that be?" she settled back at the table.. with Grace a moment " Of course Grace.. but I have to go and fetch Kate's things soon.. so be quick with it no.. beating about the bush so to speak " she smiled warmly at the girl.. setting the honest and forthcoming tone that would be the basis for their relationship.. " Never fear to ask me anything. the worst that will happen is for me to say.. it's really none of your concern.. I'm not a harpy" she nodded.. " ask away "


Katerina: ** In the satchel in cabin would be found a length of MacKinnon tartan, a broach that bore the clan's insignia and motto, as well as several documents sealed with the Earl of Baldreagan's seal. One of the documents named Katerina heir to all assets that were her parent's, as well as naming her the Grand-Daughter to The MacKinnon through her mother who was his daughter. " England dangerous. Must leave... MacKinnon's await us....." she mumbled over and over in her sleep. Would the mystery of Katerina ever come to light? Would those who try to kill her do so again... only time will tell for the woman they now called Kate.**




Grace: " Captain Jack Flynn... he is my latest obsession and I fear he's one of a futile pursuit." She nodded her head as she set the cup back down and asked her. " As a courtesan .. do you always sleep with the men? Or do they just desire your company and attentions most of the time" She hoped she didn't sound naive she knew of course what they were selling but at the same time she knew it wasn't the type of ones who kept mattresses in alleyways either so she wasn't sure.

Shaden : She smiled at the girl softly " Always in never a good word to use.. each client is taken as they come.. some prefer merely company.. a quite shoulder.. someone to listen to them.. others want more carnal things.. each man.. is like a puzzle that you have to.. decipher.. some are simple.. they want sex.. without obligation.. some are complicated.. they want.. companionship.. and some.. just want the appearance.. of the status a true courtesan on their arm allows them.."she sipped the tea before her..awaiting the next questions.


Grace: Grace's head nodded softly as she heard the answer and contemplated it for a moment before she spoke again. " I see.. " After a moment those innocent blue eyes turned back towards Shaden " Was the Captain serious last night? About auctioning off my purity?" She didn't look offended by the idea just curious was all. She didn't mind it, it would help to pay some of the expense of Shaden training her.


Maahes: The streets were clear he was sure of it. Combed through with fine lines, but something just did not sit right on shoulders as wide as the doorframe. They felt heavy against the clothes he wore, like bones get when the threat of rain is in the distance. Yet, this was for the fight. A fight between right and wrong, lovers, family be whatever the cause he knew something was dawning. Stepping through the door he gave the room a once over, and met the eyes of the many who instantly snapped his way. Fear filled their eyes and so many tore their gaze away, but there open stares were nothing he wasn't used to. "I'm sorry that took so long." He muttered in his deep thunderous voice as he returned to his seat. Shaden, check, no sign of a fight, check wait..the girl had changed. "Whose this?" Amber orbs met that of the lady now at Shaden's side, and tore into her as if looking into her soul and not just her eyes. A threat? Possible.


Shaden : " Actually we were testing you to see if you understood what you were asking to .. become.. and while your purity is of great value I think an auction would be in poor taste.." she winked.. before turning to the General as he thundered in... taking his seat beside her " General Maahes this is Grace.. my new apprentice.. Grace.. General Maahes.. " she watched Grace's reaction to the extremely monolithic slab of granite maleness that now sat at her side.. wasn't often you saw and Egyptian Arab in Aberdeen.. that wasn't in chains.


Grace: Miss Aramoire. " She turned her eyes towards the man , he was large, he was dominate in his appearance and the aura he gave off , but at the same time she trusted Shaden that she wouldn't introduce her to someone who might do her harm. Slipping out her hand towards Aslan she smiled softly as she spoke. " A pleasure General Maahes, tho I must say it is a pity to see you have discarded the kilt." She remembered him from the night before thinking he looked terribly odd with his intensely hairy Egyptian legs sticking out from under a kilt.


Ealora: She had changed for the day, the black corset and leggings and yes even the shirt had been left behind for the red Egyptian dress she favored so much, etched with gold embroidery around the frame and the only long sleeve that hung down her right arm. Gold bangles had been attached her to her hair just near her ears to create the illusion that they dangled from her ears themselves and even a golden circlet graced her left bare arm. The color of the dressed off the olive tinted skin from head to toe which were slippered in golden sandals. Pushing the door in to the tavern, her stomach rumbled hard. She was powerfully hungry and even the smells coming from the kitchen were enough to entice her, but she couldn't keep anything down. Her arm hurt, the bandage on her right arm hidden under the one long sleeve, patching one place upon her arm. Wounded? No but the deed wouldn't fall from her lips at this time.*

Maahes: "Lord General." He corrected, gosh darn it he worked hard for that title. Nothing would be extended to the woman, save a dry glance and a raise of his brow. "I'm sorry I missed you in the square last night. I could not catch every eye that turned my way..in my kilt." That really made him look like a catholic school girl. "You will have to forgive me, I do not share your view on it." Did Shaden just kick him under the table? "I felt like a fool, but a fool for my country." The door opened and his heart closed; tightened under his chest as the vision in red entered. Without question or thought he rose to offer his chair, silent and still, but it was a start right?


Shaden: "Ealora " she rose as Maahes did.. " Fancy meeting you here.. come Join us " she moved toward the Captain taking hold of her wrist to drag her along even if she struggled.. a enchanting smile on her face.. " We have dinner.. on the table .. come.. share it with us.. you remember Grace " she practically shanghaied the Captain " I must say.. that dress is.. divine.. I should get one in blue.. I think "

Grace: When her hand was ignored she simply dimpled and nodded her head " Lord General , my apologies." She looked over to see Ealora enter the room and watched Maahes stand and then Shaden as well , so she slide up from her chair. Tonight Grace looked very different then had the previous evening. Dressed in a sheet white dress that hugged her maiden form and dipped low across her pale chest. It was carefully embroider with stripes and small dots of white making her appear much more then 'angelic' beauty that Ealora considered her to be. Her hair was pinned up against her head with a few curls escaping against her cheek and neck. Around her neck a white ribbon was tied like a choker. Nodding head in greeting to Ealora she smiled. " Good evening Captain, it is a pleasure to see you again."


Ealora: "ow...ow...ow.oow! Shaden"She hissed like the panther she was as she dragged her arm out of the woman’s grasp but continued to follow her to the table. Celadon eyes raised to meet Maahes gaze, even if he wasn't looking at her. A tip of her head went to him “Lord General..."Honeyed voice was soft and smile before her head turned and she tipped her head to Grace."Ah, the Angel has a name. Good Evening Grace."A brow rose up as she noticed they were all standing, Shaden to fetch her, Maahes to offer his chair and Grace just because everyone else had. Well didn't she feel the royal queen...perhaps the royal pain in the ass but who wouldn't. She paused a moment, posed near the chair before sliding down within it."I appreciate the offer, but I am not hungry..my stomach is no good tonight.

Maahes: Maahes kept his form behind Eldora’s chair and moved it in as she took a seat. He would say nothing, as often he wouldn't, but as her the length of her hair was close to being threatened between the back of the chair and her own. The Beast's hands would sweep the locks from her shoulders brushing the tips of his fingers against her jaw line. Wouldn't want her to pull those pretty dangles out now would we? It would be then he would return to the open chair across the table as well pressing his plate untouched to the woman who flat out was the cause of every stress line across his face--at the moment.

Shaden : Her eyes narrowed at the Hiss.. " Something wrong.. are you hurt.. what happened" she stopped and turned looking at the covered wrist.. as she slid into the chair " Have you been in another fight?" a copper brow rose at the Captain before she smiled at Maahes.. that sealed it.. she knew.. he loved Ealora.. now he just needed to know it.. " None sense we are all going to eat.. " she practically decreed as she begin to fill up four plates.. and settle them before the assembled diners.. " We will need our strength I'm sure for what is coming.. Maahes.. here.. take my seat " she shifted to the one next to Grace leaving Maahes between Shaden and Ealora.. can you say.. manwhich

Grace: Those soft cheeks blushed a tender shade of pink for a moment at Ealora's calling her an Angel and slide back down into the chair. Slipping her hands inside her lap as she watched Maahes and the way he moved her hair, it was a tender gesture and it surprised her a bit coming from such a monolithic man. Turning her eyes back towards Shaden as she spoke wanting to take the attention from the other two so they wouldn't feel uncomfortable. " Would you like me to accompany you to Kate's house later?" She noticed how Shaden completely avoided her admitted obsession before and so decided to let it drop completely.

Ealora: "No not another fight. I had something unwanted removed.."She shifted to pull the long sleeve over her right arm, no need to show the bandage, she was being honest but her fingers stilled their tug at the touch of Maahes fingers sweeping the hair away from her face, await from harm and even dipping to the curve of her jaw. Lids fluttered softly closed for a moment before opening as the cool air hit heated skin underneath. Damn it all, he still had the ability to create a fire under her skin where he touched her. She wouldn't argue with Shaden about eating but she would try if it was shoved into her mouth. Knowing Shaden, it probably would.*

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

In the King's private chambers...

Adam, Bess, Maahes, and Balian escorted the King back to his chambers… the mammoth Avarian securing the door… Adam directed Balian to stand guard by the other door… “let no one in…” Adam commanded… then he looks to Robert and points… “Sit…” then with indignance… “my leige…” Adam’s sea-green eyes now turned a deep emerald… for his anger was near the breaking point… pacing about, he attempted to keep his voice calm and assured…

“Ah told yae Robert… if ah proved yae side wit the Ainglish, Ah shall protect Skye… and Scots…” pausing and looking at the king briefly… “Scotland is for Scots… and all those shall bae free… Skye shall bae a refuge faer others tae bae free…” pacing again… “Ah dun want tae bae Guardian o’Scotland… but yae leave mae nae choice… less Ah ‘ave the Ainglish at mae door…” Patting the satchel… “Ah ‘ave proof yae sold parcels o’de Highlands tae the Ainglish… and had Scot’s murdered… if’en yae did nae, then yer Ainglish cronies did… but the responsibilty still lies wit yae…”

Looking at Bess, then to the Brooch in his hand… then back tae her… “Luv, Ah knaew yae dun approve… but Ah tell yae Ah had no choice…” then as Robert started to speak… Adam shut him up… then he walked to before the king… “See this… yae knaew wot it is… Men ‘ave died for it… tis nae different than the Stone of Destiny… save this’n been lost since afore my grandfather died upon the Turas Lan alter… and the man seeking this is now in mae city…”

He set about pacing once again… he stops and looks to Maahes… “General… get tae the ships… have Admiral Flynn and Captain Baron prepare tae sail home on the tide… have all guns loaded for bear… none shall stop us…” then he turns to Robert… “Yae’r dun hear… remain in Aberdeen… live out yaer days… but remember, yae ‘ave no legality… yae shall rescend the death warrant… sign over authority tae mae… and publically announce it tae the people…” then he points at him… “Or by the brothers we lost at Bannockburn… Ah’ll kill yae maeself and put yaer family in prison for treason…” again he patted the satchel… “And… Ah ‘ave proof…"

In the city rumors were flying… people hid in their homes in fear of war in the city… others bolder than common sensibility stood outside and pleaded to the King for answers… still others a bit on the stupid side, sat in taverns and drank themselves into a frenzy that would either get themselves… or others… killed.

[Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem]

A single nod would be given to his Duke, as the Beast moved out of the room flanked only by a handful of men.


"Gather any survivors, take them to Malory's ship, see that they are settled and tell the captain to leave without me." Already hearing Ealora's disapproval, but all he cared about was her safety. "Make sure Shaden is on that ship as well."

With that the few men gave him a bow and moved out into the streets, gathering what was left from the massacre in the streets, while Maahes moved to do as his Duke told him

[Lady Shaden Aramoire]

Shaden had caught sight of Grace running from the melee.. from out of no where she grasp the girls arm and pulled her into and alleyway.. " Grace.. listen well.. go and get Kate.. take everything you can hold.. and leave the rest.. to the docks.. and take yourself and Kate to the Shadow Storm.. it is Captain Ealora's Ship... do you understand ?" she shook the shocked and confused girl a bit to make sure she was listening.. " Go quickly.. and do not speak to anyone.. until you are on that ship.. hurry " she pushed Grace down the alley toward the Inne, and Kate hoping the girl would do as she said..

Now she turned her attention to the things at hand.. Maahes Bess Adam and Balien had moved back to the Palace.. but Kendrew had been taken.. by guards.. arrested.. that just would not do.. Kendrew was among the first to befriend her.. when she arrived at Skye.. and without hesitation she set off to... make sure .. he never stepped foot in prison.

[Lady Liliana Campbell]

[from before the night]

At the sound of the Duchess's voice, head would turn in her direction and smile widen. Though face was still pale, hands clasped on stomach to help keep her from being ill, she still held chin lifted and back straight. "Aye, briefly we have met. Though, perhaps, not formally..."

Paths had been crossed not only in the castle, but upon the lands of the valley when they had bled. Had Liliana been properly introduced to the General, Maahes? Nay. Yet, she knew of him and of his deeds. As for Aoife? A brief pass of a smile in the Blue Castle on the eve that Liliana had met Kendrew if she recalled right. On the evening that she had begun to feel compassion for Bess. Since then it was not hard to find out the name of the woman.

As Bess touched shoulders before wandering off, Liliana briefly watched her before looking back to both Maahes and Aoife. Yet, attention was stolen with swiftness at the first sound of a loving voice and Liliana's head swiveled, lifting, to look up into the face of Kendrew. Her own arm would slip about his waist, eyes closing in bliss at the feel of his lips against her forehead, and she'd let herself lean against him.

Words passed her lips, barely more than a whisper, for his ears alone,"I have missed you, my love." Chocolate eyes would search his face closely, worriedly,"Is all well?"

The sound of tearing fabric, of giggles, was heard though head never moved. She had missed her Kendrew and wished to know where he had been.

[Dame Danae Galanos]

Word had reached the ears of many in Avaria. Be it by travelers or parchment, Danae would make plans to get to this place called Aberdeen to aide her Kingdom's ally. After all, she had heard there were fights happening and she very well couldn't let them have all the fun could she. So, after seeing that a few things were taken care of, orders had been given and a notice given to those that needed to know, Danae along with a few of her men would board a ship and make way to Scotland.

Upon arriving, she and her men began to make their way down the streets. Looking for any and all familiar faces. Wanting to know the situation and how the hell she could help, kicking a little ass never hurt anyone...right? The Commander was armed up to her teeth with her usual weapons and even brought along a few extras just for fun. Things had become a bit to serious for her in Avaria and she needed to get away. This was the perfect opportunity and for a good reason too.

With Merick and Balian by her side along with a few others, they traveled through the streets on foot. She hated leaving Majesty behind again, but he was no good when it came to ships. The dark copper skinned woman would receive all sorts of looks and where most would think she would cower or hide herself, Danae stared right back. She was a woman that never took chyt from anyone and if that meant she had to get arrested for seeing to things correctly... then so be it.

However, none dared to approach the Commander and her men. Very few people in fact found it easy to walk up to her and give their reason for doing so. Many in both Avaria and in Skye respected her and there were even a few that didn't like her. Even so, all could agree when it came to getting the job done, Danae was a well equipped woman for doing just that.

Icy blue hues scanned the crowd, checking each face, each frame, and carefully scrutinizing them. Paying close attention to how they dressed, how they walked, and how they moved either toward her or away from her. Being a ranger, and a decedent of a Talon, whom had passed on some of his skills to her, little got by this one if at all. After all, her father, the Talon had fought along side Apollo for many years. The reminder of that was tied to her belt, the red sash wavering with each step she made.

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

--And now that I am without you, all that we quarreled-- over seems so foolish now! To what end did we debase one another? In hurting you, I found that I have hurt myself. I realize this. Yet, I can not say it to you. The mind has a place for logic sooner than the heart is willing to yield, or the body release what has made it hunched, twisted with anger. --

The Results of an Argument & The Will of the King


His clothes lay out on the bed that he thought she slept in, on an end his body would not lay indentation in, nor would she even turn over if he did. Anger was a wall that was erected and kept strong by constant silence. If he whispered to her, (it could be said he did) she did not turn over, only hugging the pillow as the rain began to fall. Fog rolled in. Life went on or ended. For a time, the Aberdeens could do nothing more than stand still.


Again Adam was absent from the room, and bed, again… the only sign of his existence was the moved sword, clothes left behind, or the personal items of his shifted abit… Anger of what was, and is, did them nothing good… silence was loud in his ears… her words previously, now spewed forth fire in his chest…

He missed her !! He loved her with all his heart !! But he was ashamed… she had spoken true of him… and now he paid the high price… He could hear her practicing upstairs… the melodies filling the halls and corridors, lifting souls to new heights… She was the King’s Harper… and he was the King’s bane…

All she would need say is… “Ah forgive yae mae husband…” or “Ah luv yae…” or some similance of it in her thick brogue… Looking at the scar in the palm of his hand… then he placed that scar against the scar upon his chest.

Beathag had a long, long memory when it served her to recollect an injustice. The years had ravaged a great many things to nothing, just as it gave back what was once stolen. So then, Time's fine gift was the Lordship's worst enemy now. In her pursuit to observe, record, and remember everything the Lady would now forget nothing. Her words lit a fire in him that would burn long after the echo of them in the halls. 'Do ye hear yourself...Adam!' 'He can take all we ha ve, o'er mah dead body!' 'Adam, stop!"

Forgiveness is never easy to come by. The ones who want to receive it depend on the ones who have to soften the heart to give it. "Bessie Eve?" Tentative. Hopeful. Her name a peace offering. She looked to the wall and remained utterly motionless, save for the steady rise and fall of her breath, as if sleeping. Nothing. Why should it be different now, or again. Now that was the true question. How would this mar the days beyond this one? With aim accomplished..would all of this have been worth it?

He thought her coming only to produce sounds on wire, to accept a meager offer of word on behalf of those who couldn't. He reduced it to a few audiences, simple tasks. That was how she saw it. For her, it had little to do with the music but why it should sound again. It had little to do with a homecoming than coming to what had been home. Ah wanted to walk with ye where m'family had been. Tae show m'son his blood, and to share in the blood in both our veins. But it has not happened, it shan't now... Inward thought was deprived of outward expression. Spirits alone knew the words. He dressed, rubbed at the lance scar on his chest at the moment she put a craddled hand clutching bed clothes near the aching place in her heart.

She couldn't forgive him, wouldn't.

Nothing was that simple. The Aberdeen chamber became thick with tension sliced with the hands that moved in chores. Maids and valets side-stepped both Lord and Lady. If one had anything to say it was done by messages back and forth. In the space of two days it seemed as if four, six, or a fortnight went by with time crawling on infant's limbs.

It was a new day now. The night that changed Scotland forever was beginning to race around the Highlands out of Aberdeen. In messangers that would collide with news to share, in the people who talked in the square. It showed in the fresh graves dug in the churchyard for the twenty-nine lost souls shot on false advice. What a performance the priest gave! A sermon on how for their hardship a place in heaven was obvious! Their deaths, along with so many hard times, were blamed on the falsehoods of other men. Robert Bruce's name was mentioned as a martyr to his cause. Not the cause at all.

The words of forgiveness would not come… and still the wall of silence was between the two lovers… times were changing, yet stalwartness on certain subjects deemed vain… Yes, that night changed Scotland… and it changed Adam too… he had forsaken his family to save a nation… or should he have forsaken a nation to save his family?

They were sequestered in their rooms of the castle… Robert had neither rescinded the arrest warrant, nor allowed them to leave Aberdeen… Adam did not want to leave now for he had incomplete errands to do… Would he have the opportunity to walk the family halls? To visit the place where she lived as a child? Had he been here too? Possibly… though he could not remember…

She in one room with Aodhan… he in another… not only did they have the walls of silence, now they had physical walls too… in the room, he paced like a chain elephant with no where to roam free… Outside the window was the same scene since the last time he looked… not more than 5 minutes ago….

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

I. The King's Will & Beathag's Choice in the Matter

She watched in a mixture of horror and admiration. She watched as a man whom had shed more than his fare share of tears demanded that Scots be handed over to him; Adam's open palm waited for the chinks from the money-lender, the right to rule in public while the The House of Bruce was no more than a dressed up doll on a gilded throne. No, she thought, I do nay want it. But what can we do? You are mad.. " Robert Bruce's face was stricken with a case of sick-palor. In the next moments, it became like ash. The staunch resolve was melting under the fire of Adam, who by all accounts, his name would be recorded in a Scottish fashion. If he were not busy in the matter of wrestling Scotland's form the hands of the King, he would hear the scritch-scratch of the room's lonely scribe writing:

"Adam Mac'Rauri, claimed of the Aberdeen, asketh the King for his holdings, to which the King tells him nay.."

Robert Bruce muttered audible curses under his breath. The Lord General moved to do his Duke's bidding, and the Duchess became part of her husband's plan. It was too late now to go back when they had gone so far foward. He looked at her, this King near fallen, from the corner of his eye. "You've lit the spark, Adam, but can you control the fire if you put it on the kindling? Some will rise, some will do nothing. But rest assured tha' many will be afraid, as well they should!" He slammed a closed fist down on the table. It shock. Fear. Rage. It wasn't clear. "Twenty-nine already killed at the start of the Highland Revolt," a name, a keen name from a keen mind. He began to take the threads of the ruined garments of his reign, and twist the frayed edges to make a rope to hang them on, "How many more, 'afore the great, good Lord Aberdeen is a mad, raving lunatic no better than the tyrant his father is?"

The Duke began to lower his palm. In a desperate move, what the King rambled on about became an advantageous token. Adam's brow scrunched while that of the Bruce smoothed. "This isn't your holdin'. The people won't rally to you here. Not after this cause I fought for. Hard. A pair of days on a field makes little to me when you were off across the continent. You are a mewling bastard's baby in this world, Adam. You're wife has more clout here than you, and as it is, being your wife tha' is waning minute by minute. I'd ask if you would leave him, Lady, restore your faith in Christ. You were baptized therefore you belong to Christ, accordin' to heaven's law, which is the law of Scotland. I could just as easily burn you at the stake for that should I please."

She had seen the burnings of women for abandonment of faith and the things known as 'sin'. She was ignorant by refusal, not by a lack of knowledge. Once as a child she sat at the Mass in the chapel. She asked why they baked a body into bread, and how blood became wine. It all seemed mysterious, secret. There was a recollection of Davena asking Murieall why she was, and raised her child as, an old pagan when salvation was in the hands of the Christ:

Alba is older than Christ, and as ancient as your God before the holy-book was written. This is the way of the women since the time of the dragonships, and the Summerlands. One can not be truly o' Alba without knowin' the heart o' Alba.

Husband and wife connected at the eyes. Silent storm tossed a hundred emotions between them while they understood the danger they were in. Now, both had suspected that their lives would always run the chance of being forfeit to other agents of destruction, but never at the hands of their own King.

Yet, he was still a man. Men can fall far from grace. Men can be self-serving, forgetful of a moment, ignorant of anything else but their own preservation. "Nothin' to say? I thought as much. All hot air but no real force behind your blow boy. There's little for us to do yet, but we will be together a great long while. None of us can move forward or back, so as this is still my realm you will remain in Aberdeen Castle and in Aberdeen. While I still judge as I see fit, there is sentence to mediate for Sir Kendrew, your Lord Guardian..no revoking o' the orders, nor the warrants for the others. He'll make a fine example. In three days time, Sir Kendrew will be put to death. Find yeselves on the wrong side of me and you will be joining him there after

"No!"

For the sake of expression, Beathag's English broke through free and clear. No deep consants or vowels were none should be. She clutched the back of the chair, walking her hands along the table's edge. Corner to corner, each step taking her further forward. By now, the dead baliff's strike left an angry, enflamed imprint on her cheek. Beneath her eye had been blood from split skin. One marred side. One fair. Like all infront of them, she represented the scarred and perfect. "Do nay dae this..do nay order this. He is a man who fought at Bannockburn Field! He has served Scotland fer twenty-eight years.." Robert Bruce reached out a quick hand to clutch the hand of she that pleaded for consideration, for leniancy, for sanity in decision. "N' his twenty-ninth year, and all there after. He gives to you. To Adam. To an old dynasty any other King were fools to acknowledge." The Brooch was akin to a Holy-Grail in its own right. Men looked for it, while he only had to look in Adam's hand. "A bit of jewels will mean little if you are dead, Sir. I think you are right. I have recovered m'self. And fully. I am prepared to drive all the English from Scotland with your aid. And support. You will take back all your claims, and lend support to me if you value your life. And after tis done? You will consider leaving Scotland, or I may help ye at the matter."

The doors opened. The guard there had changed, proving that vengence is swift and tides turned quickly. Sir Balian had been made to move for his was only one man where five men had come to await their king. The Duke and Duchess looked to each other as they were led in silence to their rooms. The clang of armor constantly knocked against the inside of her head, and the scene played over many times through the wakeful hours bereft of anything but baneful thoughts. Aodhan's fears of the city were enclosed in the walls with tapestry hung to keep out the cold in the stone. He cried for his father only for it to go unheeded. The guards laughed at their posts as the child pounded on the doors from inside of the room. "Da, Da! I want my Da," he sobbed, beating the door until his fists were raw and he fell in to his mother's arms, exhausted.

She shut her eyes as her back slid down against the wall. Now hours had passed and in her arms was a boy, the heir of all. To what? Would anything remain if no one returned she asked herself what would any of this have been for. All the same, Beathag was tired of being helpless. Sick of being lost when the road was alleged to have been found. The year had beaten, broken, and bruised her. It was as if Time elected to slit her from navel to nose. Peering thus inside, next would come the knowledge of how she worked. The choice seemed to be clear:

Wait to die. Be released of the King's will, and live longer only to die.

The guard changed at the toll of an evening bell. With it, the door opened so that a maid could enter with food, drink, and plithy bit of company for women do not look without sympathy on the plights of others in the sex. Her name was Ina. Like many of the servants, she found it hard to believe the castle was host to such atrocity but could do nothing in thinking that she was nothing. "Here's some slices of haggas, a bit of soup. Mince pies, and sweet meats. You should eat hearty. It grows cold and the stone walls let in chills that could make you ill." Anecdotes were free. She could stay awhile, for the other ladies-in-waiting had not been confined to Her Grace's chamber, so she had no attendants.

"You have a head of hair like it is said. Looks a little red at times, too," she'd remark idle, reaching down towards the basket of threads to put string through the eye of a needle. "You shouldn't look so sullen. Surely all will be made whole again, and you and your husband shall be going home." She scolded herself inwardly just as Beathag turned an eye toward her. Aodhan slept in her lap, and the gaze seemed to say ye dun need tae soothe meh. I know we'll sooner gae home in shrouds if we are tae gae home at all.

Ina chewed on her lip, turning her eyes down as she'd been taught. It wasn't good to hold gaze with one's betters. And to hold gaze with the woman infront of her was like holding them against the gaze of the sun. Too brilliant. Too powerful. "It wasn't right what has come of things, m'lady. I do not mean to speak out of turn. Were there some way I could better ease your sufferin and that of your man's I would." The shift she wore was stiff from laundering. The crinkling of the fabric runched up in hand had a distinct sound.

Until Ina looked up when she heard,

"There is somethin' ye can da tae help me. How dae the servants move 'bout in secret. Tell me how tae get out, iffn nay for me, than for m'son. If Ah'm tae die it will nay be here, n' Ah can nay give him up tae death here, either, for tha' is what will come of him."

The maid dropped her needle to the stone floor, shaking her head profusely in objection to having said anything at all. She wanted to leave, to forget she had borne witness so that she was not responsible. Beathag reached out, with her palm to the frozen floor. "Do nay tell me they will nay torment m'son or worse if we can nay guard him. Do nay tell me tha' m'husband or ours will nay suffer here. Nay matter how pretty the walls nor where the room is, tis still a room, tis still locked, N' this is prison. N' Ah be meanin' tae find way out. With or without ye, but twill better gae with ye. Please."

-.-.-.-

It seemed the woman known as Beathag had vanished, and a new woman rose in her place...

-- from the story of the Widow McMoriach, Beathag of Aberdeenshire when she became Bess Mullins --

The hours continued to go by with Ina leaving or entering the chamber in route to do Her Grace's bidding. The details of how it was done, what, or when are paltry in comparison to what became of the Duchess Aberdeen in her chambers in the castle that lay in the region that was her name.

When a guard looked in on the woman to see if she would cause trouble, there was no trouble to cause nor any to do such a thing. The fireplace was warmed, the candles lit. The bed was turned back as if she were in another adjoining room, but she was not there. "Captain, Captain! Tell the King! The Duchess is gone!"


As the cries were carried down the halls, Ina passed a note in to the hands of Adam. With it, he found that in his possession now was Beathag's history. The Aberdeenshire Harp.

If ye would rule Scotland, I must find those who would be ruled by ye. If ye will make history, then I must be the pen that writes it for ye.

They shall think me gone South, when the North I have not left. I am gone to St. Andrews, then to Inverness. I am gone to the Grampians that run by the sea. I will place Aodhan upon a ship bound for safety, for he must not stay to see what we shall do. There is no place for him on this soil, not until we fashion one.

I forgive you.

And the rest, shall come in another tale.

-

[Lady Katerina]

The girl Grace had paid to stay with Katerina left the room to get some clean water and order a tray of food to be brought up for when she woke up.

Katerina's eyes fluttered open and she looked around the room for her new friends seeing no one here. Tears flowed down her face fear and panic gripped her in a tight grasp so tight she could not see that she was 'safe'. Where was Shaden and Grace? Where was she? Her mind was foggy still and she was trembling.She rose from the bed looking at the door she had to leave she felt something was not right and would not put her friends in danger.


Had they come back? Were they taken? She had to get out of here..... and now! She rose from the bed and got dressed and peaked out into the hall to make sure no one was there... empty... she stepped from the room, and made her way downstairs into the main tavern.

[Lady Liliana Campbell]

Events that should have been simple, pleasurable seemed to have gone out of control. Liliana could even now recall Bess talking about Aberdeen. About coming home. There had been such hope of opening the well of memories within. Of sharing it with husband and son. Now though...it seemed all had gone wrong.

Liliana had attended the first bit of the gathering before quietly excusing herself to go lay abed. Her stomach had violently berated her for leaving it and soon sleep had found her once again. It was the whirlwind that was one of the other servants, her friend Emma, that disturbed it. Jerked out of her sleep by a rough shaking, Liliana blinked eyes open to look upon her friends worried face questioningly,"Do you wish to aid my body in bending me over the bucket?"

Wringing hands now, worry apparent, Emma whispered urgently,"We must leave, Liliana! Others are being ordered to. To flee! To go back to Skye! Their have been...orders...from the King! Whispers speak of treachery from the Duke, Duchess, and their court!" Disbelief was strong in the woman's mind, for as Liliana was loyal to the Duchess...so was she. "They mean to..." pause in words, drop of green eyes, had Liliana sitting up carefully.

"What is it? Emma?" When her friend did not raise eyes, stopped the wringing of hands to clench them until they were white-knuckled, Liliana reached out to grip her arm hard,"Tell me!"

"They've sentenced Sir Kendrew to death..." Those words sent pain ripping through Liliana. She clenched her stomach, bending body forward over her knees, as tears burned in chocolate eyes. Head shook in denial, fighting the thought of...of..."NO!"

White-hot anger burned forth, giving chocolate eyes an eery glow, as they lifted to look at Emma,"They cannot! I won't let them!"

Emma stepped forward, crouching down, to place a comforting hand on Liliana's wrist,"My friend...there is naught we can do. We must flee. If we do not then...." Emma feared they would lose their lives as well. If not worse.

Head shaking, braid flying wildly, Liliana whispered torturedly,"I cannot abandon him. I lo-love him...I..." Would another loved on be taken from her life prematurely? So much hope had been given. So much love and life. Kendrew could not be taken from her now. "We ne-need to find the Duchess."

Pulling herself together, knowing that strength was needed now more than anything, she gently looked upon her friend. "Where be her quarters now? Emma, you should go! Go to the ships. Return home."

Emma stared aghast at Liliana, wondering if the woman had lost her mind! "We can't stay. We must flee...I...I..." There was a look upon her friend's face that made her realize she would not leave. Words passed, of the quarters, and then finally Emma rose and placed a kiss to copperskinned cheek,"Be safe."

Once Emma was gone...Liliana stared around the room in shock for a moment. Had she just stayed? Knowingly putting her life, a life she had nearly lost not long ago, in danger? She had. For Kendrew. For Bess. For those she loved. Rising swiftly, pulling on the lilac gown over white shift, she quickly tossed the simplest cloak she had over it and slippers on feet. It was time to move about the castle- quietly- and find Bess.

--

Servants had many ways of moving about such a large building. It was not unexpected that there steps were hardly noticed as they went about daily duties. The goal, in reality, was not to be seen. Liliana used these ways to her advantage, to keep out of harms way, and to wait for her chance to find Bess. It was the gossips, wagging tongues in a hallway, that gave her the information she sought now.

Back pressed against stone, tapestry giving shadow needed, Liliana listened to the maids speak of the Duchess's quarters. Where they held Bess and Aodhan.... And so soon Liliana would find herself moving down the hallway in a rush of quiet footsteps that barely made a brush of noise. Of course there were guards outside, but...she also knew of the servants ways...and so waited in the corridor that led in secret to Bess's chambers. In a darkened stairwell that looked to be not as safe as it should.

She was not aware of the escape being planned. Instead she waited in quiet. The chill of the walls, of the stairs beneath her bottom, offering little comfort for a woman already ill. "Be strong Bess. Be strong..."

Then falling silent, a teary prayer was sent upto the heavens.

God, please, do not take him from me now. I love him. Please keep him safe. Tell him to be strong for me. That I am here for him. That he will always have my heart...

Head in hands, tears leaking hotly down copperskinned cheeks, Liliana now waited. For what? A chance to sneak in? She did not know. She needed courage now.

[gracelynch]

However, the moment that Kate entered the main tavern she was met by Grace who came running in. Her pale skin a gleen with sweat and looking a bit paniced. She hurried over to where Kate was standing , this would be a good deal easier seeing that she was already awake. " Kate.. please you have to come with me. Theres a riot of some sort I'm not sure whats going on but its not safe. Shaden says we need to go." Wrapping her fingers around Kate's hand she turned to the tender as she spoke quickly " Thank you for your hospitality Sir, please be sure to board the doors after we leave I would hate for your family to see any harm."

Turning once more she spoke to Kate " I'm sure Shaden will see to it that your things make it to where we are going. Please.. try not to worry Kate" But as she hurried her through the streets Grace's eyes were keen to keep a look for any guards and at one point she ducked through a dark alleyway. Soon enough the two women were at the docks and making their way towards Ealora's ship, whose crew was already making preperations to set sail as soon as their captain was aboard.

[Lady Rosalind Avalle]

Rosalind looked up and saw a familiar face, an old friend from her days at Dunstaffnage. Arthur Cambel's cousin, Colban, looked nothing like the rest of his family. He was fair-haired and blue-eyed, and as big as an ox. He filled up the doorway, though he had hunched himself down so as not to appear too intimidating to the gaggle of women. The women were all familiar with Colban Campbell and barely stirred as Rosalind excused herself to meet the man in the hallway.

Being rather tall herself, particularly for a woman of Picardy, Colban's height was made even more impressive by the fact that she only came up to his chest as she passed him at the door. His brutish appearances led many a soul to believe Colban served his clan only on the battlefield. But what they did not know was that he had been educated in a library before the battlefield, and spoke no less than six languages with complete fluency. He was a Palmer, one of the religious who had journeyed to the Holy Land, and an inventor. His work with materials had yet to lead to any major discoveries save the best method to remove noxious substances from human skin, but Colban could easily talk for hours on the purposes of his experimentations. Rosalind found him absolutely fascinating.

She also found him to be incredibly easy to read. When she saw the expression on his face, she merely sighed and folded her hands before her, waiting with all the patience in Christendom. "It is good to see you looking well," she told him, her French words sincere.

Always glad to have another educated soul to converse in a foreign tongue with, Colban couldn't resist a smile. "Duncan tells me there was a wee kerfluffle the other day, aye? Were ye busy wi' yon crackin' ladies?" He canted his head, indicating the gaggle of women in the sewing circle.

"Non. Mais c'est l'Ecosse," she responded with a shrug, vaguely answering both questions. "Let us walk, Colban." Her leg was stiff with the weather. She took his arm when he offered it, though she did not need it. "I do not know what my future entails. I know that it is in my hands, yet this does not grant me the satisfaction I once thought it would."

"Because you are impatient, my lady. Idleness does not suit you."

"I wonder, does it suit Scotland?"

He smiled at her terse reply. "Ours will not be the last generation to see war. How can a land rest at peace with oor king when we cannot be at ease with oor brothers? Stentless men off ta' th' fields, my ain brother amang them. War suits us, maybe. Idleness steirs th' pot."

Rosalind smiled at his broad Scots. There had been a time when she'd refused to speak in English with him, as what came out of his mouth sounded like no English she'd ever heard before. It was most strange, but his French was almost better than hers, and he had even picked up her Picardy accent over the years of their acquaintance. "You rescued me from the gossips, really, Colban, and I thank you. While I enjoy the company of my own gender, I have no heart for it today. These are my last days in Lady Mary's home. I am waiting to hear of my position in another household -- "

"'Bout time."

"-- but I fear it might be a bit complicated -- "

"Dinnae ye just say, Mais c'est l'Ecosse, Rosalind? E'erthing is complicated."

"I suppose so," she said, wryness only expressed in her hazel eyes. She was so much more suited to giving advice than following it, but had that not been the defining theme of their relationship? Since the day she arrived in Inveryne as a child-bride, she had depended upon his advice. From perfecting her English to understanding the Highland customs, he had always been her greatest aid. She wasn't sure her debt to him could ever be fully repaid, but he had never expected anything but her friendship. Despite the turbulent years of her life, he had been ever steady. From Beauquesne to Inveryne to Dunstaffnage to Aberdeen, he had seen every facet of the lady, and found nothing lacking. In him, she saw the young lad who had followed his cousins to Bannockburn and returned a man. She saw the scientist, the revolutionary, and the clan's pawn. Their relationship had grown more complicated, given his clan allegiance, but never had it faltered.

Perhaps, if Lamont and Campbell could reconcile, so too could other warring clans. She had much to prove elsewhere in Scotland, out of the Bruce's shadow and away from Campbell politics. But waiting -- waiting, when she had so much to hope for -- waiting was almost unbearable.

"Ships are readying for the return to Skye," Colban said. They turned away from the courtyard and entered shadow, his boots echoing dully on old stone. In the winding, drafty corridor, he held her arm pinned tightly beneath his. "They say it is not safe for our guests." He had unconsciously slipped into French, his voice pitched low. "It would not be safe for you to go, but you would have no pursuit."

Rosalind's hazel eyes flashed as they passed an open window. Surely, it was not the light from such a gray and dismal day. "I would think you grew weary chasing the Lady Inveryne when she gives you flight."

"Ach, no, lassie," he said, shifting back into broad Scots. "Or I would no gie her the keys to escape."

"I've heard this refrain before...." Their voices retreated down the hall, laughter prominent from both as they continued to trade barbs. Their was an uncommon friendship, one worth fighting for, even among the old echoes of Bannockburn, the ancient stone of Aberdeen, and a political climate as intractable as the Scottish weather.