The Journey Forward - Preparations

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Prologue

Ecclesiastes 3
King James Bible

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1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

9 What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth? 10 I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it.

11 He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

[Ana deCervillion]

Campbell Matters - Within Griffin Castle

Liliana Campbell: Of politics and impending war, a weary heart tried not to think. Liliana Campbell knew of what was to come, knew of the issues that friend and husband would face, as the days passed. At night she slept, if fitfully, until her husband's arms wrapped around her and soothed away the worry. Yet, during the day, Liliana did not allow those fears and worries to affect her as much. She had other matters to think on, a child, her child with Kendrew, and her current state. Liliana slept longer, seemed weaker, and nausea had set in stronger than before. She worried greatly over it all. She knew that soon would be the time to approach Aislin again, to ask questions that plagued the mind of a pregnant woman, but for now she sought her husband's company.

Kendrew Campbell: The Lady Inveryne and the Lady Campbell were fast companions. People from distant shores called the household of the Aberdeens home. Either the world sought to hide problems behind stone walls or to use the floors as a stage to set them erect. For his part, he had been charged with being on the front of each preparation. The pieces that would come together, the way in which they fit were determined by the Duke's desires and his commanding words. When Rosalind entered he did not turn around but remained looking to the fire, "So you have," he replied, the storm on the sea of his countenance quiet, "So you have. Yours be not a presence I mind at all." He spoke slow, his words as steadfast as winter dark. The shade suited him for it was in the tunic he wore; dyed wools were etched next in traces of the gold, the shades of the state. Lightness and dark. "What is it tha' I can do for you, m'lady?" It was a rhetorical question but one a simple man's mind did desire to have answered all the same. By coincidence, his sirname, his place in the world now threatened what was on a table. If a game of cards were being played, they had no choice but to expose the aces, spades, and jesters in each hand.

Rosalind Avalle: "You are looking hale," she offered, bemused. Compared to their last meeting, anything but death would have been an improvement. She caught sight of Liliana and smiled. She seemed so comfortable where she was, Rosalind laughed and shook her head not to move. She wouldn't be keen to give up a place near the fire either. "I came on pretense of giving your wife something, but I have a feeling I am owing words." She produced a linen kerchief tied into a bag and held it out to Liliana. Inside were several pieces of crystallized ginger -- a candied treat if one was well, an old remedy for nausea if one was ill. She glanced to Kendrew and studied his face, shrewdly assessing how much she might trust the man who had, after all, saved her life. Yet it was his clan in jeopardy, his people that would fall. She had been in his position before. "It is not what you can do for me, I believe, but what I might do for you. I have little powers of bargaining, but I did come bearing information. I only fear," she paused, inclining her head thoughtfully, "that you may not believe it, for until a few weeks ago, it would have been as ridiculous as persuading a pig he might sprout wings. Do you believe me free of malice?"

Liliana Campbell: Comfort was to be found near the warmth of the fire, the presence of her husband, as Liliana relaxed in a chair there after placing a kiss to his cheek. She allowed him to speak to think in peace, to speak to Rosalind, as she situated. Lazing about in bed was not a fond idea to Liliana, but her husband was insistent that she take care of herself and so she would relax here. Accepting the bag from Rosalind, eager hands opened it and chocolate eyes took in the contents with a widening smile,"Oh, thank you Rosalind!" Yet, she fell quiet as words were spoken to Kendrew and concern marred her features.

Kendrew Campbell: "I have no reason to think ye with malice, Lady. Nor do ye owe me words. If you would speak them, then aye, I will have them." For a moment he paused - smiling - for Liliana smiled. There could be nothing in the world that could not be made to wait at her feet when the aura encompassed the length of a room to make it glow. He found a little more peace. Leaning over he put an arm around her. Loving, protective. The seeming placid limb dared one to utter a phrase or increase action of harm by a single inch. In hand he took his cup of warm ale, indulging in the flavor that would prove less bitter than the matters he read on of late. "Let me tell you this now, though. Of sieges and topplin' families, of lost causes and all tha' ilk that set Scotland a flame? My heart has no place for it." It could be that beyond the realm of sage words he intended to do nothing at all, or only enact a plan when it at last touched the shores of home. To look at him, to know what he had endured in this last few months was to see the death of the old patriot with a new one arising in his place. He had no love for the Bruce anymore, nor those so blind as to follow a tyrant once proof was shown. He was a Campbell by the coincidence of his name, not the length of his deeds or the size of his halls. The man was reared a farmer's son. He climbed, from a yeomen, to where he sat now. It was a bloody, war-torn journey to which nary a single Campbell offered him praise until the day his home lay in shards of what it had once been. But he listened. He took in, and he thought, even if he was not eloquent enough to move many to think as he did...perhaps they did already...who was the Lord Guardian to know. Ah, should he not? As it was it was very clear who a certain faction of Campbells sought to have as their tanist.

Ana deCervillion: Grief was an all encompassing emotion from the numb roots of her hair to the equally numb tips of her toes. Even her fingers felt little as they moved against the beads of the rosary that even now clicked from the constant movement of her feet. With no direction and little desire to motivate herself toward it she roamed the corridors of the Griffian Castle almost without seeing. In honor of the dead she wore black save for the pristine white of the fine chemise beneath the heavy brocade cloth and pearls she was the epitome of desperate sorrow. Countenance pale, the Italian heiress seemed more lost child than woman as argent eyes stole toward the sound of voices, the crackle of a fire. Without conscious thought her feet brought her there even if her mind was not sure the outcome. Swallowing when she noted those within to include two of the Duchess' lady's in waiting, she bobbed into a curtsy quickly out of habit without any inflection of emotion. That she yearned for a place where safety wasn't her constant concern was buried deep so that only a serenely composed if strangely neutral expression greeted them. "Buono -- Good evening." If even the slightest indication that she should leave was given no doubt a puff of smoke would erupt from where she stood so fast would she scurry off. For now though she only stared, almost blankly.

Rosalind Avalle: She sighed, but carefully folded her hands together before her. "Nor does mine, but it is for the sake of your heart that I give you these words." Every action and word of the Lady Inveryne was done with the greatest of care and sympathy. She had learned perfection's place in court, much as when she had learned to speak and when to keep her silence. It was not due to a crisis in conscience or at her confessor's begging that she emptied her burdens now. It was for Skye. She kept her words few, her tone low, and resolved all questions before they had a chance to form. "I would see Skye's success, though I am new here. I swore my fealty to Her Grace and her cause, and while I do not believe myself entirely altruistic in approaching you, my ends are Skye's. It will play out soon." She did not believe his clan whole. She could see it in his eyes that he did not believe so, either. What fractures he observed would split if the Bruce called them to action. Divided by Lamont, they would rapidly fall, and Fearghus would not be as kind as Rosalind in believing Kendrew's surname a mere coincidence. She told him thus, and if he wished not to speak of it again, she accepted that just as willingly. It was his information now to do with as he pleased. And just as she finished, she noted the entrance of the grieving Ana-Catalina.

Kendrew Campbell: "Then I will take them. We all would see Skye thrive, n' tis good you gave a worthy one your love. Though it be hard, to see where worth comes from. For years, until the autumn harvest, it too lived n' well with Robert ni Bruce. We take great risk when we place our loyalty, but tha' is what it means to live. To honor. To serve." A soldier could question character but was more fierce in where he placed his ultimate love, the desire to prove his sacrifice, more so than any. "Skye does thrive, n' many dangers have come tae her in this her proving reign. The Aberdeens are little below God and could take a throne, iffn they wished it. Many of us could take things, iffn we wished it, Rosalind. I do not want your Inveryne. Nor do I want your name tae be drudged down to the depths. I do not want tae hold up any cause other than this, on this soil, or where mah Lady's heart, her Lord's hand, commands me go. Even to lift a sword in it, I tell ye. I care very little." He turned to the door as the mourning woman darkened the threshold. A tragic, beautiful woman who would no doubt become angry as they all had. Rage as all did. Skye unlocked the fiercness in them. "Come, sit. We talk of matters. Ye are in the household now. They are your matters, too." Hands clasped together as he stared at the fire a few moment's more before looking to Rosalind. "Ye do know tha' many a Campbell is on their way. Here. They have a chieft o' some sort with them and will find land, a beginning, here. But another branch. Och. I am nay ignorant, nor do I feign to be. Only a simple man. I know there must have been a reason why m'father spoke little of his kin, and kith, and cared only for my mother's people. He need ne'er tell me the reason, only to see this. It serves."

Ana deCervillion: Here was open talk of war, of thrones in danger and people who might be sacrificed. It was a conversation she had heard too often to take any comfort in its familiarity. Perhaps it was that shared companionship she sought since her own companion was no more. Who else seemed as steeped in the intrigues of court than others who were already plotting? "I had not meant to disturb you." Yet even with those words of self dismissal she entered with the soft rustle of skirts against the rushes on the floor. Two of the three people were known to her and she offered the semblance of a courtier's smile. "Lady Avalle, Lady Campbell." Swallowing past the lump that she had to force back in order to speak she let the fire hold her gaze while she listened to matters of state beyond the borders of Skye. There was talk of the Bruce and her heart hardened. Hadn't her uncle sought to court that man as well as many others? But he had sent her to Skye and she wondered still where his end game lie.

Rosalind Avalle: It bothered her that Lamont's cause would bode so well for Skye. It seemed too well planned, and she had every reason to be suspicious. For her own reputation, she gave not a fig, and she smiled when he mentioned it. "I have never dared to challenge rumor -- the half that is untrue is not worth my time, and the half that bears resemblance to reality is so boring, it is not worth defending. I tell you the truth of the matter in that perhaps I once cared for Inveryne, but I care no longer. My husband was buried there, and many a good memory I treasure too much to sully with more blood in reclaiming. But I am not a Lamont born, and matters of land and who dwells upon it obviously have more interest outside this room." From the sideboard, she poured two cups of wine. "Please, do join us, my lady. The fire is warm and the conversation meaty." Her eyes slid to the young lady, and how she wished they could discuss anything but the sodding affairs of Lamont and Campbell. She took a seat beside Ana-Catalina, placed one cup in the lady's hand, and took a sip from her own. "That Campbells will fight for Skye as well is a matter of personal amusement," she said at last, her eyes twinkling. "Though Fearghus will be a great ally to Skye, I will be satisfied to find his life much complicated with their arrival. And when all this dust has settled, I pray we will have some peace and the health to enjoy it." At the moment, it did not seem Rosalind would find much, but she could dream. Then again, she was strong enough that she would be offended if anyone suggested she would not paint herself out of this corner eventually.

Liliana Campbell: Chocolate eyes watched the fire, ebony braid played with idly, as she listened. Kendrew's words were in a way comforting. Yet, part of her wondered if it was selfish to not encourage him? Family was family, was it not? Except Liliana could not imagine running off to aid a family she was unaware due to having the same name. Sighing softly, listening to words of Rosalind, Liliana looked away from the fire at the approach of another. A smile was given in Ana-Catalina's face,"Good evening, Lady deCervillion." A nod of head, as she was sitting and rising to curtsy was not an option as of now.

Kendrew Campbell: "The allies of Skye will be those tha' cease to care about their namesakes' shyte n' more of what it means to believe in a people. For years there was no mention of a name in me, save Kendrew. It is only in bein' lauded it has any baring, and in sharing it that it has any meaning for me. The only Campbells I have a care for are with me now, scattered to be gathered, or dead." Lady deCervillion, that was her name? The name and the mystery surrounding it were all but solved to him, or simplified. "I'm sorry we haven't a better matter tae talk on for you, Lady deCervillion. But if walls speak, n' here they do, perhaps ye know a little of them already. They will worry o' Inveryne and a small plot o' land while mere miles away England plans all their deaths. n' more. This winter, who knows who shall join England 'pon the field. The heart o Christian lives is all but ready to smote us out, the King's betrayal is still fresh. All o' this, and more, is goin' to cost the lives of more o' mah men. Sae far of late, they've died. Rats in wheat fields. Alone, in prison cells. E'ery other Campbell, sae help me, can burn in hell if they are nay innocents." A finger came to his chin, opening for more to follow to cup it. He pressed his lips to the head of his wife. Affection before company was not common in some venues, if not frowned on, but the gathering was small. "While I was in prison, there were men o' Lamont there. they sat beside m'own men and it mattered nay what name they had. I sat, in mah cell, alone. Comforted only in tha' they were not alone, even as his majesty afforded me a view of their torments. Their hands....their feet...tis not talk for women. Forgive me." His eye twitched, and the thought was subsided. It was not fitting to talk of it, and he never did. In that small amount it was evident why his silence was precious to him. No one should hear of what he was subject too in those few days. "No. I'm not settin' foot upon the Scottish soil until His Grace gives the command to do so. But come, someone must have another bit to offer" He was haunted by these things, afterall.

Ana deCervillion: She felt the cup within her fingers, and even drew it then to her lips. Yet the taste of the wine reminded her of the previous night and the passing of it in the presence of a man who told stories of African sunsets while her duenna languished she had entertained a suitor for her hand. Had she been thinking clearly or were her priorities mixed to the point where she knew not what was of import and what wasn't? Drawing the cup to her lips she but wet them with the liquid from within before it returned to idle in her lap. Chin uplifted she nodded if only a little toward the Campbell's words. "My uncle sent me here more or less as ransom to ensure Skye was given the Pope's approval for victory yet I have heard from sources I can not readily rely upon that he also has sent envoys to those who would not see success on this front. I am sorry for your clans loss. For the papal states it is a question as to whether or not Scotland can be lead back into the fold of the Holy See. Whomever would guarantee such would gain the attention of His Holiness." Hers was a small world enclosed by the church and how it affected their lives on a daily basis. Wars had been fought for less but there was more than a single throne at stake in play here.

Rosalind Avalle: Rosalind nodded quietly and listened to Kendrew's words. The power of a name was important. Coupled with the power of action, or a lack thereof -- well, was it not what she railed against? The Rosalind of rumor was much different from the one seated next to Ana-Catalina, much as the Fearghus Lamont was much different from the man he appeared on paper. Even if the struggles of Lamont were just, she had persistent doubts about Lamont's eventual aims. Yet her concern now was Skye, and she silenced herself until she had more information. It seemed the answers were within her grasp, if she simply had faith in herself. She did not know what to say to Ana-Catalina's words. She took a sip of her wine. "And I am sorry for yours, my lady. Your duenna was a woman of powerful personality and I know she is greatly missed. If there is anything I might do for you, you will let me know?"

Liliana Campbell: A time of horrors not spoken of, even between husband and wife, Kendrew began to speak on. Liliana's heart ached dearly for Kendrew, for what he'd been through, and for the fact that she could not take it all from him. He would not tell her what had happened, though she wished he would share and allow her to ease his burden, but she was not one to pry. Smiling softly at her husband, reaching out a hand to grasp one of his own, Liliana whispered in his ear,"I love you." The words were meant to soothe him and then she began to listen again. Ana-Catalina's words were not pleasing for...such things were low. It seemed to her that the man was working to make sure that he was sided with whoever came out on top. Frowning, shaking her head, she began to rise to go see about some tea.

Kendrew Campbell: "I remember when they said we would all be damned if we did nay give our fealty tae Edward in England. How very holy o' them to remained concerned." He was flippant with a delicate title: Holy See. Kendrew was not a man of old ways but a Christian, baptized and bred. He was a Celt, of course, and the Celtic arm of the Church was once so powerful that Rome had to subdue her, but he was loyal to the customs. To hear the state of Ana-Catalina's visits made him ill in his bellly. He loathed politics. He loathed that a woman was put out over an ocean for false reasons depending on how the battle faired. "Lord Aberdeen's ways does nay earn him many friends in Italy, I was told. Either to bring Scotland into the fold or to find a reason to rebell against the Holy See sounds more the way of it. And here you mourn while others scheme, I am sorry for your loss, lady and the lesser reasons ye were sent here.." Closer still husband drew wife. Shaking her head at her goodness he whispered, " I do nay deserve such as you." He kissed her hand reverently. It became evident if one noticed the lines at his eyes, despite the vigor in his appearance, that he and his wife were some years apart.

Ana deCervillion: Indeed they were low words, but it was a game played all across the European theater to which she was merely a pawn in the greater scheme. Her world was one of politics run by men, controlled by the Church and its agents or those who sought to control the Church and those very same agents. Keeping her eyes level was not a difficult task when faced with a man of Campbells size. She merely envisioned she was in the company of her uncle though she was loathed to compare the two on that level. It aided only it ensuring she did not cower or appear to mewl. She was a princess of Aragon of Christ sake she reminded herself, and was made of more fine stuff than this. That she was given sympathy only made it harder to remain composed, poised as she had been instructed to be while in public. "Rome will always seek to bring the other nations of the world back to the religious fold. This is not a new campaign for her. Ferrara and Naples have little stake in who controls Scotland but that is neither here nor there as to my uncle's thoughts on the matter. It would not surprise me if he has not already sent an envoy to Maubrey. This is his way of ensuring that no matter the outcome what he desires in the end is met." To voice such things might have garnered her a greater punishment but this was a small gathering with none of her own household in attendance to hear such blasphemy. "My presence here is just a much a question for myself as for their Graces." Oblivious to the other machinations afoot she nodded at their condolences and sipped again at her wine.

Kendrew Campbell: "Then there will beh more than English and Scots on the field come the war." He loathed politics! Grimacing he leaned back in his chair and retreated to the mug of ale. Downing it, he went to the sideboard in order to fill it with a stronger vintage. Wasted liquid slid down the wall for shortly after he threw the lot against the stones. Sinking in the joinings, it bled on the edges of the carpets that kept the cold from the base of their shoes. What could keep the cold from creeping in his heart? He only looked at the wall. Offered no apology, or bow, as he often did. Hand steadied him, the other to his waist as he waited for the spilled liquid, the echo of the cup, or God to answer his many unspoken questions. "Maubrey is jailed." It seemed almost random to mention the slight fact, but it slid out with vehemence to the mere name. "Then it is nay a mystery to your uncle, everythin' Maubrey is responsible for. " Turning around he offered a lesson to school the poor young woman. "Maubrey is m'lord's father, Lord Aberdeen is half English. Skye, n' the islands of Scotland, were once a kingdom of their own. You are being dangled for a distraction infront o' a prize. I relent. There is no better thing to dwell on today." He tossed up his hands and went to the window. What sort of a world would his child be born into, at this rate?

Liliana Campbell:The mention of Maubrey's name added a chill to the room that had not been noticed before. Liliana could not help the shiver that chased up her spine nor the instinctive action of wrapping her arms about her stomach. He was loathsome and horrible in ways one could not explain. Having opened the door only a crack, motioning to a servant and requesting tea be brought to the chamber, Liliana then made for her seat again. She was tired, as always, but tried to not let any of that show. Her smile was in place, if weaker, as she took her seat and became comfortable again. "Kendrew Campbell, come and sit with me. This is not a time to be despairing. It is time to be hoping. Were you always such a pessimistic man before I married you?" Giving a teasing look, brow arching, she patted the spot near her. Looking to Ana-Catalina, an apology in her chocolate eyes, she murmured,"Understand that we have all been unduly strained of late. It seems that even when we wish to have a moment of peace we cannot."

Kendrew Campbell: "It is not you, Lady deCervillion, it is nay you."/i] His apology was contained therein. Coming behind his wife he put his hands to her shoulders, "I would be up again iffn I sat, wife. But I will stand aside ye. Always. No, I was not a pessimistic man, only practical. Now, beloved. Now I am worse. I'm a bitter man, a man feeling lost amongst things he does nay understand." He let his hand smooth through her hair then. "It has been long since there has been, it seems, one hour o' peace. Yet, I can't let our child be born into this hell. So I shall put away the bitterness, for your sakes..n' remain tired. Very, tired." His heart, his patience, his life were being broken in pieces faster than he could mend. How, in so many years of service, could this be.

Ana deCervillion: And she was all but steeped in it since the earliest part of her childhood. One couldn't breathe without taking in the rancid scent of intrigue. "Indeed there will be French and perhaps Irish that parish as well on the fields of war. There might also be Italians though I am not certain for whom they shall fight." It was clear that not only was she uncertain but she was kept thoroughly in the dark as well. Though her wine was set aside her hands remained ever idle in her lap. Like a statue she sat while listening with what seemed an attentive ear to the position of Maubrey and how such an alliance would not suit Skye's own in the Scottish political theater. Watching the closeness of their relationship she wondered briefly if their union had been one of state or one of love. Or had it been one and turned to the other? Allowing herself to be swept aside by those thoughts were foolish indeed so she turned her attention toward the Lady Campbell and offered what she could by the way of that ever present but carefully crafted smile. "There is nothing for you to apologize over. Politics is a heated and often passionate subject from which many viewpoints may be debated. It is the way of things." She was fatalistic only in so far as she remained aloof of the actual emotions passing around within the room. Ever the observer but never truly a participant.

Liliana Campbell: "Husband, our child will come into the world whether it be peaceful or...not. We will protect it though. That is what is important, is it not? What we do to see our child happy and safe?" Patting his hand gently, allowing her thumb to rub the palm in a soothing manner, she looked to Ana-Catalina, laughing softly,"We have not shared the news with many and do not yet intend to, but to allay any confusion that be found and as you are part of the household, I am with child. It has put much in a different light for the both of us." Liliana gave a gentle look to Kendrew, hoping to ease him. She wished to help him somehow. Her child did not need a tired man nor did she. She wanted to see him live again.

Kendrew Campbell: "You are right, though can not tha' hope you speak of and my hands wield it be different? I want naught but light in your eyes when it is that time, and no worry for me. You worry o'er much." He cautioned her, smiling at long last he would sit in the chair beside her so that he might encase her in his arms. "I want ye both, safe, n' happy. Aye, things are n a very different light now tha' I know such a thing. I did not think to go in such a way, and here it is.Sweet is the woman, brave, what casts her youth's lot in with a man of thirty-nine." Kendrew agreed with Ana - things became passionate with politics, or causes of heart. "It is only in...the recent times m'patience is worn as thin. They have ruined many a good man already. We shall see, though, a fairer time. Must be so if my wife deems it. She can make light come in cathedral windows, afterall."

Ana deCervillion: Such relationships were kept highly discreet in Italy where etiquette often trumped emotion save for the stages of politicking. That they ... lounged together would have risen more than a few brows where she was from yet rather than remark on it she stuffed her unease into the far corner of her mind as she was able in order to face both of them with a polite smile. "Felicitations on the news of your heir. Good news indeed in the face of even war." Had she been able, she might have been more enthused for their news but she was puzzled still by the Campbell's words. A distraction for some other intent. But what? Tearing her focus from her thoughts she nodded once more. "Even the most stoic of men find themselves questioning even the best thought strategy. It is normal to feel frustration mounting while patience thins." Placating seemed to be her greatest device, although she was never certain if it was indeed placating or merely the device of conversation.

Liliana Campbell: Most would be a bit shocked by the behavior of the Campbell husband and wife, for they were prone to showing affection publicly, and yet...neither cared. Liliana gave small consideration to propriety when something was considered ridiculous. She saw not a single reason to hide the love she held for her husband. It was something to cherish and that was rarely found. Smiling softly at Ana, her words were soft,"Thank you." As for Kendrew he was given a teasing look with raised brow,"You speak of a dream. I did not do such a thing." It was a yawn that passed her lips though following that and Lilianna shook her head,"I seem to grow tired again. I will be pleased to have warmer weather though not for what it brings with it..."

Kendrew Campbell: "No, it was nay a dream. See now, she stood beneath glass with wings in it, and when the moon came through, it hit her so. She glowed n' so did the place, and she has ever since in my eyes. I knew after that night we should waste nay more time, n' so I courted her after. Thank Jesu. Alas, sometimes I bore her,: he teased when she yawned, for humor was something he was quite good at. "A man's patience is nay as deep as a woman's. But it will be alright, we shall just have to make it so. The season's will bring the birth of the Aberdeen's child and our own. A blessed country we are." They did not fall to great scenes before the masses, but that his wife was on his arm, or her cheek, her hand, even her mouth to be kissed by him was gospel truth. With all they had been through, he lived through and for her.

Ana deCervillion: She too would be happy to see warmer weather, with the knowledge that by spring her brother would be wed and the crown of Naples past to him from their father. With this colder season word came more slowly and she had not heard of her father's health for nearly a month, a thing to worry greatly over. Hearing them speak of how their relationship formed she smiled once more and was reminded that life was different here in Skye. "Not a marriage of state then. A grand match by all accounts however. You are fortunate." Would she be in as much? It was highly doubtful if the recent Marchese of Vigolante was any indication. Their humor went well beyond what she was currently capable of identifying with or understanding but the smile widened if only by a fraction before the Lady Campbell's yawn reminded her that she should be kneeling before her pier de dieu in prayer for the soul of her lost companion rather than talking politics or marriages. Or children for that matter. Rising slowly she curtsied once more. "If you would excuse me, I should return to my routine before I am sent for." It would be mollifying to be hounded like an errant child but to many who were in her employ she still very much was one.

Liliana Campbell: The idea of a marriage of state brought a light giggle from Liliana who shook her head,"Oh dear no, not that. You see I am merely a peasant by all standards. The orphaned gypsy daughter of a merchant. Nothing more or less. Most would not try to marry me off. It was Kendrew who gave me life and love, and a place here in Skye. So, in a way, it was fate." Smiling up at him, Liliana rose slowly to offer a brief curtsy to Ana-Catalina as she asked to be excused,"If you need anything, please, let us know." Sympathy showed in her gaze, but an odd feeling came over her and Liliana felt herself waver. A rush of dizziness and nausea that had her reaching for Kendrew's arm. "Perhaps I should go rest." A light laugh, to ease any alarm, as she gripped her husband's arm tightly.

Kendrew Campbell: He grinned. Of all beings, these two were by no means an interest of the state. "The court is nay built on such matches, it would seem. E'en the Duke and Duchess wed o' their own accord and heart's desires, though accordin' to old legend, the Duchess, the harper's daughter, was to be promised tae Adam, who is the old lord's grandson, in youth. I see over the defenses of person and court, of the knighthood, but I am still only Her Grace's champion as much Liliana is still her beloved attendant at day's end. I hardly think mah lady the affairs o' gypsies and soliders is that entertaining to Skye." On the contrary, it might have been! It would be for another day when he felt his beloved faulter. Capturing her about the waist gently, he held her aloft with a soft smile, " The weather bids me need m'rest as well. Until we all meet again, then."

Ana deCervillion: It was intriguing that even the Duke and Duchess of Skye had no claim to a marriage of state. She wondered how alliances were formed without such things but it seemed that most here had common enough ground that the trivial matter of who was related to whom did not matter. With a parting curtsey she did depart but did not return immediately to her chambers but chose rather to wander the corridors of the castle, her thoughts carefully weighed.

[Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem]

Against the chill of winter an army will rise..burning.

Friends reunite but with the news of a threat growing on allied soil, how will this change the war?

Military Barracks: In the Griffin City





Maahes: The cries echoed through the streets with the days training nearly complete. The Arena was booming with the rise of an army, the rebuild of defense. After the war in Aberdeen, the numbers had dwindled so young squires were made for battle perhaps too soon. "Keep your head up, boy!" Maahes barked at one soldier whose blue eyes seemed to shake with the fear that trembled his form. The child would raise his gaze to meet his opposite just in time to feel the slap of the wooden sword across his cheek. Lord General would raise his hand and heave a heavy sigh. "Enough." The men in pairs would stand down as the Beast moved through the rows to stand over the form of the fallen boy. "Tell me your name boy.." The rich heavily accented voice boomed standing over the child, and the boy's lip would tremble, "S.s.s." Holding his breath Maahes searched the face of the boy, would he say his name was Saul? Though the Arab should know better, no son of Apollo would be on the flat of his back. "S.Steven, Sir. S.s.Steven Covule." The boy flinched as Maahes extended his hand, "The Tailors boy?" The child would nod as he took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet. Many eyes watched in horror as they awaited the boy's punishment, but Maahes would only shake his head, "Go back to your father, son. Tell him to send you back when you stop squeaking like some bird." His voice was a heavy grumble as the realization hit him once again that they simply had much word to do before war in the Spring. "One by one you will tell me your name," He turned to the rest eyes a blaze with the fires of a thousand desert suns, "And if you still sound like a woman you will leave. I'll not take children into my arms. Too young you are to face the war, and tell your families to fear NOT I will not let their son's die." He spoke to the crowd and gave a wave of his hand, "That will be enough for the day." With that he let the crowd fall away, and moved to be alone..pray..in his quarters. (d


Danae: The traveling was beginning to take its toll on this Ranger and the few men that dared to follow and stay with her. So much had happened since she last set foot on the lands. The loss of a love, the on going rumors of an uprising, blood shed, and now... now the talk of a fable king to be dead. Danae however knew better... the old Talon was to tough a bird to come crashing down in perhaps what could be his last flight. She and several others would slowly ride in on their horses. All wearing the garbs of rangers in an array of greens, browns, blacks and dark reds. Layers shielded them from the harshness of the cold and over them, skins of bears and other beasts. All wore hoods, hiding, concealing their faces. The one leading the band of riders seemed to be equal in size like the others, unknown to those that watch them pass by, their leader was a woman. Her head hung slightly, tilted to the side as she brought her black steed to a hault before a mass of men... or boys training. The others followed, bringing their own horses to a stop. Just before one of the followers would speak, a hand lifted from the leader, signaling to him to keep silent for the moment. Her right arm corssed then rested on that of her left as the gloved hand held firmly to the reigns. Her scimatar on the left of her horse, her bow and a quiver of arrows on the right. From beneath the hood, icy blue eyes stared at t he General as he was left alone. Once his back was to her, it was then she'd speak. "I have never known you to turn away any that wish to learn skills and become part of forth coming battles." -d-


Maahes: His slow androgynous steps would ease as the mountain of a man let his shoulders fall in mercy. As always he was stretched too thin, over wars and life. His wife would be waiting, itching to be within the fight, but of course protecting their child still in the first stages of life. "It is not that I turn them away, I send them home where a child should be. Let him grow first, too young was he to be witness to such slaughter." As it was with all wars that this one carried upon his back. Turning then his boots sank only deeper into the mud, though the ground only cracked like grass from the freeze. Amber eyes shifted over the figure and he felt himself chill as if seeing a spirit from a life that was now nothing more then a dream. How long had it been since they had seen each other face to face? The last time he saw her was through one good eye as he was held captive within the tower, and even then it seemed so long ago. "Have you come to tell me of Christmas past, spirit?" A small very faint crack in his lips would curl with a joke..but wasn't it simply his delirium talking? (d


Danae: "You know as well as I do Maahes... all children see the death that war brings, whether they be among the soliders... or survivors." She continued to sit high on her horse before hands left that of the reigns to brush back the hood. There in the light of a cloudy day, dark flesh once kissed and warmed by the rays of sunshine to a land she had not seen in ages. The glow was almost non exsistant, eyes of bright piercing blues of ice once sparkled, now lacked the luster of brightness and in its place, red rimmed and irritated with tiredness. "And you know as well as I do... a mans strength and courage is not define by his voice, but his heart." She added as he would then turn to face her and speak. "No... I've not come to haunt you...only badger you and perhaps do something I should have done long ago."-d-

Maahes: Turning then to fully face her a broad chest filled with the breath he was holding, and his shoulders fell back. "Not on these lands, Ranger. Here a child is given hope to look forward to, but when I ask for the son of every family,I want them of age that they will not be first to fall..not yet. Let them come when the age is right." Though he could see her plain as day he did not believe the sight, where had the glow gone? Where was the fire spirit he had once known? When her shell would look across from her, she would see something much different he was sure. Though the stress of the day weighed hard there was not a sign of it upon his figure. His cheeks were colored with health, the lines of his body were defined not only by the rock hard surface but as well the weight a man should have. His clothes were not in usual tatters, and he looked rested; what happens when you have a wife who cares greatly and force feeds you. Yet despite the sun of the eternal glow of devoted love, there was a black cloud looming heavily over his head. Taking a step forward he let his arms fall to his side waiting for the fight no doubt she brought. Wouldn't be Danae now would it? "And what would that be?" (d


Danae: It was now when Merick, Balian and the few faithful followers would remove their hoods. Revealing what was left of her division that dared to travel with her. Some stayed behind, giving their allegence to another, some ran, others pledged to a life of their own, while still others died and depending on who you asked, Danae was considered an outlaw. She smirked with his reply, glanced down and looked to him once more only to give a soft nod of her head. "You speak well... and do your people here a great deal of good." She took in a deep breath, filling her chest with the cold burning air she inhaled before exhaling and giving a reply to his question. "An apology..." She sighed. "You were right... I should have known better and now I'm better the woman for knowing how foolish I was." An apology? for what? For not listening to the advice of a friend, for not heeding his warning of being left behind and for betraying a trust in one to gain it in another. "I may ask it of you again... once we spar and I kick your ass." She said with a slight grin as she stared down at him while Majesty snorted and reared his head. Almost as if to say lets get moving or get off. Always the eager steed...sometimes a pain in the ass. -d-


Maahes: What was it with the ghosts from his past coming to say they were sorry. "You have to get off that horse first." He mused for once looking up to her, but he would let his eyes part from the ranger reluctantly to take in Merick. "Go board your horses, find the Briar Rose Inn, tell the woman by the name of Anulia you are friends of mine. She will see to it the warmth of the day is replaced." She made the best sweat bread around. Taking the reins of Danae's trigger happy horse he turned amber orbs to her and curled his lips into a smile--a genuine you've been gone too long smile. An upturned palm would raise to her beckoning her on. (d


Danae: Danae chuckled softly, nodding with it before eyes lowered. There was a sadness in her eyes even now, but nothing and noone could change that and with time, all things healed right? It just happen that a time of healing when needed was the same time a warrior was needed to fight for whatever cause she deemed right. Merick would look to Danae as his Commander turn to glance at him over her shoulder. She nodded, telling him to do as Maahes suggested. They would all give Danae a nod, as a fist came to their chest and moved off in the direction of the Briar Rose. Danae would look back to Maahes, see the smile and gave one in return. Some people would never understand the history betweenthese two, but who said you had to understand people to know that they were brothers in arms and sometimes, more.. like family in a strange sense. Majesty would rear his head once more when Maahes took the reigns, his way of letting them both know that even though he don't he didn't like someone else guiding him, he'd go along with it for now. Danae would then move to dismount and once feet were firmly on the ground she looked to him. Another smile was given, this one however was one of mixed feelings. Happy to see him, sad for him to see her like this and well... worried for what she was sure they would soon be talking about. -d-


Maahes: For a good moment there was a silence that could speak for him. How he was imagining this, but as the arena grew quiet again with the falling away of her men the wind swept down the bitter chill. Yet the endless warmth that was a lifetime of days spent under the sun would find his companion and he would wrap his arms around. Pressing the smaller frame against him with his hug he would hold her there, for many reasons. Yet the most important was Danae needed it. He felt this, in the stress within her eyes, the cold against her skin even under the layers of her cloak--he felt it. His heart broke he had not been there. He half expected her to cry, and for this he broke inside. "Let it go for now, Princess." He whispered tightening his arms to wrap her more before slowly letting her go if she wanted. "You hungry?" Yeah, that was the Maahes everyone knew. Wars later, food first. (d


Danae: For these two, silence spoke volumes. True, Danae was more the vocal one when needed to be, however, her silence could be just as moving as the force from angry or bitter words. When Maahes wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into the hug, amazingly she didn't fight it. This Commander had fought many battles... all for the sake of freedom, men, lands and her heart. She inhaled deeply, thankful for the action of her friend and where he half expected her to cry, she would have if it hadn't been for that damn stubborn streak in her. Tears would threaten, but she was able to blink them back and reply with a voice that was soemwhere between steadfast and yet shakey. "I have." When he lessen the hold on her, she remained, and like a sister to a brother wrapped her arm around him. At his question, she snorted slightly and nodded. "Yes... food would be great." -d-


Maahes: She would always be one of the guys, that girl that could kick your end over and over again, but deep down he knew that she did in fact feel. His heart had broke many times over the year, and would she be surprised to learn he had actually cried at least enough to be counted on one hand? Though he let her go he wrapped his arm over her shoulders as he moved forward with her. "Let me get my overcoat." He paused outside the door and let her remain as he swung back the oak doors, "My wife will beat me if I do not return with it." He called back, "She says I'll get sick." He chuckled as in the darkness he found the heavy fur wrap and returned only to place it over her shoulders. With that he would move to the posted guard and order him to send a letter to Red Wall and have them expect a few more guests for the night. So many questions he wanted to ask her, over and over again as it was the same with Apollo. The night before in the tavern had started his grief and now seeing her face he knew it all was true. (d


Danae: Many knew she was a fierce fighter, but often they forgot she was a woman too. Yes, she felt things, perhaps differntly then the way a man would, but thats what was unique about each individual. Man or woman, all bleed the same blood, all had a heart it was simply left up to those individuals on whether or not they used it and if so, how much. Her father had told her once that a man without fear had no heart, withour heart you had no love, no joy, and still without those things, a man had no life. Nothing to defend, nothing to give him reason or purpose in life. To this day, those words echoed in her ears and she had lived by them the best she could without becoming to vulnerable to the trickery and evil this world unfortunately had. When he retrieved his overcoat, placed it over her shoulders and spoke of his wife, she smiled and looked to him. "Your wife? Well, then I suppose congratulations are in order." She was happy for him, really she was. Yet in the back of her mind, she had to wonder to herself that if Maahes was capable of such a thing, would she? Could she have been if things had worked out differntly? That was something perhaps she would never know the answer to now. There had been so many things she had done wrong and it was now to late to take any of it back. However, just like Danae always did, she managed to take the bad with the good, deal with it and accept it like she had all the other things in her life. " I should like to meet this wife of yours... she must be one hell of a woman." She said with a chuckle as she followed where he led. -d-


Maahes: He held up his hand so that she could see the gold and silver ring Jack Trades had made them. "She..uh.." How in the world was he going to tell Danae this after ALL the fights they had over the title.."She's the Pirate from the battle in Aberdeen." He spoke in one breath as he started down the path with her. He could not help but wonder how crazy this sounded. Practice what you preach right? Half afraid of how she would react he didn't wait for her to catch up he simply just moved in slower steps, "How long do you plan to stay? Would you go to my home and spend the time there?" Yeap quick change the subject. (d

Danae: Danae inspected the ring he held up and nodded with a soft smile. "Very nice." Then, when he went on to inform her of just who it was he had married, she paused and gave him a look before moving with him once more. " A pirate? Maahes... a Pirate?! You married a bloody pirate... after all the greif you gave me when I was with..." She paused mid sentence. She couldn't even bring herself to say his name now. "With him... you go off and do what I almost did?" The bronze skinned woman would now poke and jab his side closest to her. "Of all the women in the world..." She glared at him then. Not that she had anything against the woman personally... yet... but to know he had given her so trouble of what she herself had nearly done and for him to turn around and do it, oh yeah... she was definately going to pester the hell out of him for this. His attempt of changing the subject would of course fail."Stay? I haven't a clue... and your home.. of course." She paused and looked to him and again her steps would cease. "Maahes! A PIRATE?" -d-


Maahes: He chuckled with her outbreak as he knew it was coming. Holding out his hand to beg her to lower her voice the smile that he carried was like none before. The one he saved only for when the thought of Ealora came forward. "She gave up that life. Her ship is now part of our fleet, and she's at home now with her brother." A blush ran his face at how stupid he must seem to her of all people. "The first night we met I threw in her prison." He chuckled running his palms over his pants as they walked, "I tried my hardest not to fall for her." He turned reluctant eyes to her knowing he would see 'that look' from her. The, 'are you kidding me?' look. "I..just..couldn't.. you know? Help it." Even then he paused dark eyes passing forward and that cloud filtering around them darkened as the realization hit once again, "I have not even told Tommy." Was he asking her to keep it herself? Yes. Would he mad if she didn't. No. His chest tightened as he wondered if he was ready to hear about the woman who he loved as much as he did his wife. Was she still alive? What of the twins? Percival was on the island, said she went with Kuriel but somewhere he knew that wasn't true. (d

Danae: Where he chuckled, Danae continued to give him that I'm going to kick your ass look. She tried to hold that look for as long as possible but eventually it melted away as he continued to chuckle. It was contagious and soon she would give an exaggerated roll of her eyes before cracking a smile and shaking her head. As he went on to explain the first time he met Elora and how he had tried not to fall for her, at his question of if she knew, Danae lowered her gaze. Coal colored lashed and light bronze lids hid a truth Danae was trying to no longer acknowledge. "Yes.. I know. I know exactky what it is you mean." She swallowed hard, looked to him and forced a smile while trying to force other things from her mind. When he said he had yet to tell Tommy, Danae nodded. "Its not my place to meddle in the affairs of others... not one so personal. If and when she hears of it, it will be from your lips and yours alone. You have my word..." Danae gave a nod of her head as she was now able to look back to him, thinking she had hid the pain in her eyes well enough. "So.. your home... what's it like?" Yes, Danae's turn to now change the subject. -d-

Maahes: "So she is still alive?" Maahes did not even realize it but he was holding his breath. He could see the pain still very aware upon her face and with that his jaw clenched. "Can you believe I spared that mongrel his life?" Yeah never one to be very good at this whole other subject change. "He and his second drugged me and Ealora's sister, took off our clothes and put us in bed together." He spoke of the event so evenly that seemed so very relaxed about it. "My wife had a ransom on her head and he wanted her away only to get the bank, and save her in the end." Had his opinion of Peregrin changed? Nope, but he did feel obligated. Maahes was able to sleep at night knowing that she was no longer hunted and as well kept her life. "Though God has given him his punishment. He rests now in the infirmary as he was attacked by a pack of wolves last night who carry disease." With that he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and lead her out into the streets, "Not expected to live I find it hard to be sad." (d

Danae: "Last I heard, yes..." She answered as they were now walking again, and then at his words of sparing the life of the male pirate, Danae gave a shrug of her shoulders, even with the weight of Maahes' arm upon them. "He fooled many of us... and I pity the next woman... no, women that fall prey to his lies." She took a deep breath in. The anger she kept buried inside for that man began to bubble up. "If I could, I'd kill him myself, let him feel the pain..." Her words disipated into silence then as the General went on to tell the Commander of her ex lovers current condition. She l ooked to him with concerned eyes, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't deny she still cared for him.However, this is Danae we're talking about here and do you think she's going to let on to that? Of course not. "Good... serves him right..." She said as she looked away and lowered her eyes. Perfect white teeth took in her bottom lip as she now had to think if she really meant those words or not. In all honesty, Danae knew the answer already, she just wasn't willing to admit it to herself. -d-



Maahes: Letting go of the breath he was holding, he sucked in air to make up for the fear that gripped him, "Then there is still hope in Avaria." So long as Tommy still lived, he had no doubt she was doing everything possible to correct what was wrong.


To be continued

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

Allegiance

The days of winter bore down upon those of Skye. A snowfall to a man’s knees slowed down tasks and travels and sometimes dimmed men’s hearts. But it was one man that was glad to hibernate, Iain Robertson. For he now had found someone who tolerated his bad habits, and attempted to turn them good. One that would keep his passions in check and lavished goodness upon a cold heart. One young lass, a gypsy, who could sneer with the best of them, and was able to turn Iain’s teasing friends’ joke back upon them.

There too lay a twist. His nephew Caden, had went again the Clan leader Alexander and married the Argyll woman… One fine day in late fall, Caden arrived at Iain’s manor in Struan and handed him the tanist cloth. Caden had passed Alexander’s rule of the clan to him!! For more than 4 days, the two lads stayed together and learned about each other, finding out just how deceiving Alexander was.

With the power of the Roberstons now in his hands, and his heart handed to Kennocha, Iain made his trek to Turas Lan… and in audience of Lord Adam and Lady Beathag, he swore undying Robertson fealty to Skye and the Realm of the Gryphon. The deed was done… Iain had committed all the Robertsons to Skye, adding such strength to an already growing powerhouse in the west.

What was, is not now !!

Dmitrii was back home… once again set into his ways as Weapons Master in the Duke charge and a sworn bodyguard. He was free of all charges and now the Isle of Raasay was back under the Gryphon’s wing…. The cohorts of Maubrey and the Illuminati sent home or scattered amongst the populace; either way, of no consequence nor significance to fret upon. Willa was back at her duties in the castle preparing fine meals and pastries for the Duke and Duchess.

It was the Lady Willa, as he referred to her now, that would be offered all his free time. She still refused to live at his mansion, nor her farm… electing to reside in the Griffin Castle. But this would allow midnight rendezvous for the lovers two.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to all, especially Dmitrii, was Willa’s efforts to quell the Templar and Illuminati war… her visit to the Cathedral, giving the Cardinal the Key.

Dmitrii had met Aegraine le Power and was pleased to have an experienced engineer on his staff. The two would share more than duty to Skye with the preparations for war continued.

Alliances

Adam and Bess would spend their days with running a blossoming nation, politics both local and international, monitoring winter preparations for a spring war, and also taking vast amounts of time for themselves… enjoying their son, the bairin residing within the mother, many thought so barren… and resting upon the love they shared before warm hearths and a passionate bed.

Adam would continually spend time hours during the day with Dmitrii in the sparring ring. Both men ending their sessions in sweat and sore muscles. Enhanced sword skills and the increased ability to kill a man with any tool available was priority, both men knowing full well, that death lay at Spring’s door. The two even had heated arguments regarding the Duke’s position in battle, with Dmitrii pulling the bairin card and winning the argument. “M’Lord, yu are the nation’s father… yu belong in the capital, commanding forces from the throne… rely upon Generals to accomplish yer plans… and do not forget… Yu have a son to raise and the Lady Bess is with child… a feat thought impossible… yer place is here… not upon a field of battle where swords clash and arrows fly…” then he would catch Adam off guard and drop him to the ground with a wicked bearded smirk.

It was an early winter’s morn when an envoy arrived at Griffin Castle, seeking audience with Lord Aberdeen. The envoy was from Alphonse Marco d'Estes, the Duke of Ferrara, Modena and Reggio, Lord of Parma and Bologna. With all the salutations of protocol delivered, Adam leaned back in the chair upon the elevated platform. The envoy had brought news from d’Estes requesting Lord Aberdeen to visit the estates in Modena, with an excursion to Rome to see the Pope.

Adam did not respond right away, but merely left open the opportunity. It would be a month or so with travel there and back, but if he could sway the Holy See to allow an allegiance with Skye, then he could add all of Italia to the alliance of the Gryphon. He just would need to see the man in person, to discuss his own religious views, the rumors of religious bias, and pagan worship. He needed that face time to convince the Pope not to hold Skye’s views of religion against a free nation.

[strongjustice]

The Escape

William Maubrey paced in his cell like a caged tiger. The first week was tolerable as he thought he would be free soon enough… Aberdeen did not have the gumption to keep a man of his stature imprisoned. The second week was aggravating in the fact that Alfred had not made his escape possible. William knew Valisa was able to escape… and that irritant, Aberdeen, had formulated a coup on Raasay.

Adam ensured that Lord William was kept abreast of damage control the Duke was doing whilst his captive grew even more agitated. Adam knew he had to keep William off balance, and this was one way to accomplish that. Adam supplied William’s insiders enough knowledge of current activities and the thought always formed a smile upon the Duke’s lips. Two could play the Maubrey tunes.

It was during the changing of the guard, that a beautiful woman with red hair, requesting an audience with Maubrey, was allowed to visit him in his cell. As the guard closed the door, the pair of unlikelies embraced, swearing love and devotion to the other. With the resounding footfalls growing dim, the red headed woman, slipped a large dagger from under her dress and handed it to the man, who slipped it in his belt under the cape. “I love yu Anwen… yu are all I ever expected…” No words spoken, just a smile upon that beautiful face. Then she pounded on the door calling for the guard.

As the door opened, and she stepped out, the guard began to lock the door… but a gurgled sound was emitted and the large man fell against the door… followed by a dragging sound… meanwhile, William moved to the door and listened. As the door opened, William smiled at the guards cut from ear to ear... and moved out into the corridor.

Carefully the pair made their way to the main floor. Just as the Black Prince and his caretaker were walking by… William and Anwen stepped in behind them from the shadows. With a swift move, William grabbed the boy, covering his mouth and hefting him from the floor. Before the woman could scream, Anwen shoved a knife into her throat and left her where she fell, gurgling on the stone floor.

William and Anwen, with their new captive, made their way toward the chambers of Adam and Bess. Inside the room, a housekeeper was straightening the bed and became startled when the trio entered. Threatening the woman with the boy’s death for her silence, William instructed Anwen on how to open the hidden passage. Then the trio disappeared in subterranean tunnels known only by those intimate with the castle.

Anwen told the woman, should she wish the best for the boy’s health, she would not scream nor alert the guards… but after the trio left, the woman ran from the room screaming hysterically about Aodhan being taken….

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
- The Bible, Ecclesiastes 3 -

The Night of Speaking, One in Many Nights The Same
- Before the Taking of the Black Prince -

Beathag "Your Grace, It must be heard! The halls won't be quelled! What shall be done of this? " "What has his grace said, what else is coming?" The realm of "I heard" or "What is" grew to the size of a continent that Beathag simply sat on the outskirts of. Every question, every complaint or opinion became a mountain to climb, a river to cross. A sea that surrounded a greater plain of nothing. Men build houses atop shakey ground. There was nothing new under the sun by way of where ambition stood stronger than fact, but the amount of the particular ambition was astonishing. Bombastic, foolhardy, and lethal. It was called "The Scottish Matter" or "The English Dilemma" or even " The Avarian Rebellion." What seemed a matter of Celts grew to a matter of many nations, many ideas, and many things turning to conflict. With her hand against the back of the harp, it gleamed, redressed for splendor. A star among stars, the treasure of history would have a fine ballad to make to the tune of the voices in the courtyards as they approached the great hall. Only a buzz was here, a quiet hive, soon to explode. "Ah have heard men talk, but ne'er clamor as they dae now. E'en Aberdeen seemed more simple tae figure than this lot. But it is nay only us in this lot, is it?" Whom did she address? The men of might and measure, A Guardian, Kendrew. A Weapon's Master, Dmitri. Both who had seen and knew factions of the talk from experience, and yet stood only silent with furrowed brows. Adam did all that he could to quell their fears, and so now the Harper would address their questions. A strange world they lived in, where a former beast of a woman was now deemed fit enough to give advice. (d)


Ealora: The swift winds of change blew, with each passing gasp it changed the land and it changed the people. These winds were named hatred and war. The talk of it were buzzing upon the winds. The lands of Avaria in trouble and though the winds blew in her direction, the conversations were muddled and so mixed together that none of it made sense. The winds had also blown change in Red Wall, now housing a dozen or so rangers and for what purpose? The pirate queen as some called her, was unsure. There was only one place to get answers and besides, she had yet give the Duchess the gift she had intended to give her the night of the fall fest. What ugly winds that night had brought in. Clothed in skin tight breeches and loose tunic which over fitted the captains coat. She looked the part she had all most completely left behind. Not the Generals wife but the clothes did not make the wife. The heart did and her heart more then made up for the lack of the look tonight. With brown paper parcel underneath her arm. The winds blew in the former pirate into the hum and drum of conversations rumbling together within the hall. Celadon eyes passed right and then left before a slender brow arched upward in silent question, the scowl set firmly to her face. Welp, if they asked the questions and the Duchess was willing to answer them. Who was she to ignore the answers even she was craving to learn.*


Maahes What a day this had been as well! The freezing weather chilled the ponds and turned them into solid surface, and Maahes found it useful to train upon the glass. What was to say they would attack when the ice melted? It was a new dance he learned in the art of war, and a constant curious mind would learn something--fanning that flame; the thirst for knowledge. "I need to speak with Lord Marshal, and it is not of personal matter." Maahes grumbled to a page, placing a heavy hand upon the boy. "Tell him I need 15 horsemen to ride with me to scour the countryside for any able body hands." The boy gave a nod, and the Beast placed within delicate hands a few coins in hopes it would move the smaller feet much faster. "If he cannot spare the men, then I would just need a few horses." Maahes cringed at the thought, he would forever be best suited for the ground..bigger they are, the harder they fall. Raising then as the boy was off his armor caused the motion to be slow, but quickly his eyes would dark. Coming up beside the Duchess he was never one to wait, and frankly he was tired of flies buzzing. Dark eyes passed over the few pestering the White Hound and mouths would close. "Bess, when you find time we need to speak." Passing amber orbs over the crowd he took a deep breath and curled his hands into fists..Ealora. She wasn't home..Burning orbs settled on his wife, and the look was clear...you are in trouble. (d

Jack Flynn: It would seem as though many of the Duchess' closest advisors, confidants, and (most importantly) friends came to seek out her sage advice as well. Once the Lord General had crossed through the threshold of the great hall, he would be followed by the Lord Admiral as well. The Irishman's mood was not easy to read this eve; upon his brow was evidence that something troubled him greatly. And yet, there was the vaguest of smiles upon his features. This was no doubt due in part to the box that the Irishman carried underneath one arm. As he drew near, he smile broadly, "G'eve ta ye, m'lady.... as ye 'ave commanded, I 'ave nae strayed tae far from yer company." There was a brief wink. Then he smiled softly, "... iffen m'lady allows, Seanna an' I t'would like ta kick off tha Yule festivities...." There was a smile upon his features, offering the box he carried to the Duchess. "Ta celebrate yer news... an' yer appointment as Harper." (D)

Adam Adam strode the corridors of the Castle... stopping occasionally to look upon the tapestries he had looked at before. This time they took upon them a different shape. A university of knowledge lay within them... Tis been said, for those that know history not, ...it is those that are destined to repeat it. This addage was what nagged at him... Maubrey was in gaol... but now the English King has petitioned for his release... people in the streets wanted Maubrey gone too... either released or allowed to be escorted from Skye. parapets... Adam had Dmitrii order the engineer to prepare the walls enhanced first then trebuckets inside the walls... Adam even had new cannons mounted at the four corners of the city walls, where the Engineer had strength the Now he studied the tapestries for more than any had found before. He knew his mother would not do a partial maze... so the mystery continued... still the spear the man held toward Skye meant something. He also continued to ponder the request from d'Estes to visit Italia. Turning, he walked down the corridors once again... Inquiries made of his beloved Bessie Eve, he headed to the Great Hall... :Then entering thru his own door to the side, instead of the large doors. Adam no longer dressed in the black and gold robes... but leather trousers and vest of brown... and a thick, white cotton shirt... a dagger in his belt, and a sword at his hip, gently swaying as he walked.:::::::

Beathag The world was a tome only waiting for the wisest sage to decipher the mysteries locked inside. Between the pages of living writ with blood, sweat, and tears lay a meaning that man tried to decipher for hundreds of years. Skye kept her secrets well; the islands of it and surrounding a large tomb where the ages went to die in peace. Who were they all to disturb it? Vagrants, vagabonds, travelers, and poor men were the lost sons of kings, queens, and people of renown.Her voice went with an unknown ease over the small amount of people demanding to have knowledge to satiate their hunger for truth, "There is naught more Ah can tell ye, gae home. Be tha' tae mean your chambers, or your homes on foreign shores. Words 'ave been writ and messangers sent. There will be more at Blue Castle taemorrow n' tae this I will attest. Gae now." She wore naught the robes of a queen or even the colors of the Lady Duchess, simply a dress of brown wool, a white chemise. Her hair was left to flow as it would in waves to echo a rememberance of the lost sun. As they filtered away the Duke would filter in. "They are restless, but tis nothin' new." Her eyes smiled before her mouth moved to do so. She learned to do this. To smile, in adversity. To feel joy when others could not. "Aye Maahes, we can all be speakin' now. Wot chance did we have tae think with sae many surroundin' though? Please, come in.." Her hands captured the Admiral's gift, "Ye have all been far tae kind tae us, truly. Now I believe there is somewot we can dae for ye..by way of news. The deligates make it vera hard tae think." To be frank, they split her head in twain. (d)

Shaden: Shaden had come to Griffin Castle to seek out Kendrew... along with her ever present retinue of gaurds, courtesy of her overprotective brother in law Maahes.. was one enought no... six ever on the watch gaurds followed her everywhere she went.. Maahes perhaps being the most overprotective brother in law in the history of brother in law.. but then again he had a point.. Shaden was a trouble magnet.. instant trouble just add MEN... invariably... it would happen.. and yet here she was seeking out answers for her brother in law as promised.. no luck with her regular contacts.. and the courtesans had not seen hide nor hair of this man child.. Saul Apollious.. so calling to court she would go.. even though she had been told to stay away... lets be honest... she wasn't one for being told to do anything! (d)

Ealora: Fingers curled around the box, both hands gripping the box close to her stomach as she swayed this way and that. Really picking up as much information from one source before moving on to the next. If her husband wasn't going to tell her anything. She was going to find out other ways. Ever like the sea, you could never catch a wave within your hand and you could not persuade Ealora from something she set her sights on. With the presence of the Admirial and his gift presented to the Duchess, she moved forward to set her own box, plainly wrapped in brown paper parcel at her feet before take a step and then another back as her eyes rose to meet the intense stare of her husband. Ah hell. Insert a stamp of her foot and a scowl here but her lips instantly curled at the unspoken words. Oh she didn't need to hear them to know they were being said in a different way, without words. Am I dear husband? We shall see..and oh how she seemed to purr as that chin tilted upward in seeming defiance. Celadon eyes swiftly moved back to the Duchess as she nodded her head to the parcel at her feet. From her and Maahes of course. A set of rattles for the heir of Skye. Made with Egyptian sands. Much quieter then ones made with..what was it...beans..rice..who knew but also just as amusing to a child.*

Maahes Grrrrrr, that look drove him crazy and he'd be more then happy to wipe that little smirk off her face- anger turned to kisses of course, was what fueled this pair. Without breaking gaze with his wife his clenched jaws let go so that the roar of his voice could be heard, "I have somewhere between 9 and 12 Avarian Rangers, current outlaws to the crown in the valley. They were given the name with just reasons, but not as I'm concerned. They turned from the law of that land and seek sanctuary. I need your permission to place them." She would know what he meant, how would this look Skye hiding fugitives. "If you demand I will turn them away, but they will be well kept secret from the down wind of Eirian's estate." Where for many days he watched as something in the shadow moved around the valley; perhaps searching for the visitor he had just a few nights before. Apollo's life would be kept secret for now, but before the night was over he would make sure she would know. Secret letter..something; he just knew his aged King had reasons for sneaking around in the dark, out hunting past midnight. Though...he has always been a little strange. (d

Jack Flynn: To the Duchess' words, the Irishman offered a smile upon his features. After a few moments, however, the smile slowly died. Then the Irishman spoke quietly, ".... It tis nae news tha' I wish, m'lady.... Tis another matter tha' I come ta speak wit' ye after." There was a moment's hesitation, before he said, "E'er since our trip ta Scotland, I 'ave 'ad ships trackin' tha ships tha' tha Anglish an' Scottish 'ave sent ta harass us...." The Irishman inclinedhis head softly, "We found out where tha' fleet tis makin' their winter anchorage...." He hesitated. Then he met Bess' eyes, calmly, as he said, "They winter in Dunluce...." (d)


AdamDressed as if he was ever ready to go to battle, the Duke, in the brown leather trousers and Jerkin, entered the Great Hall, just as Bess was dismissing the crowd that gathered. He walked over to his beloved, strong calloused hands massage stiff shoulders... then he leaned down and kissed her neck. "Relax mae luv... tense naet yaers'lf wit matters sae much..." Then he looked to the others gathered and noddded his head in acknowledgement. :::::

Beathag The dissolving smile on the Admiral's face made her head shake softly from side to side. How fortunate she was to have her Adam, a child made of them, and one they both might love. To never take for granted. To never forget. Men as him reminded her that life could turn when one least expected it. "There's nay worry o'er much." One of his hands was kissed as they took no shame in outward affection. Ealora's gift was ment with a silent smile as her head canted forward. What more could they ask for? The one thing most elusive, most strange to obtain: true peace. Upon lifting her head she began, "If Dunlace then is where ye would send some of our ships, too, tae make their winter anchorange than so it will be where they are anchored. Sea battles in winter gae well better than those on land. In some ways, we are vera much at war now. Dae ye wish us give you a decree of war against the forces at Dunlace, Admiral?" Fingers entwined together to form steadfast hold in her lap as she turned her eyes to the woman of exquisite red hair announced just beyond yonder door. What a strange, marvelous court they held. "There is a winter in Dunlace tha' will see the fufillin' o' our oaths to her and a season tha' will marr another." She looked over to Maahes, "If the Duke agrees, I say keep your rangers in the valley, Maahes. They may roam well 'pon the isle they are nay enemies here. They are nay enemies for with the Steward in power there is nay treatiest to uphold. The ambassadors are leavin' by choice o' they have already been murdered, so I have been told. We can nay remain allied with dictators n' murderers. We can give any sanctuary here who seek it,but I tell ye it does nay bodewell for your country on the parliment floor. People ye despise or care little for are those tha' kept the alliance up as best they could the longest after ye came here to become our general n' fufill a promise. Ah'm only sorry to see it end this way. As it is, e'ery life ye know n' cherish on tha' island is either in danger, vanished, or worse. If the Steward tries to retaliate by force ..he may be met with an anvil." So far there was not talk of such a thing, but what if it came to pass? The same country that helped rebuild Avaria could be at war with it..

Kendrew: "If we are to hit, M'lady, then m'lord and yourself be tellin' us where." The man of Dumfries opened his mouth so that his words rumbled with little resistance to be uttered from his mouth. He clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward in salutation to the people whom entered. His eyes connected with one whom he had heard of in recent times but rarely seen - the woman of the Titian head. (d)

Ealora: Her lips leaned up into the kiss he offered but even she could not seem to ease well into public displays of affection, well not in front of the Duke and Duchess and so she eased the simple kiss off and turned her attention to the Admiral, the Duchess and even Kendrew. When had he gotten there. Damn but she was horrible in picking up familiar faces. To much time at sea. The talk continued and she still could not wrap her mind around what was going on. Murder? Sea battles in winter? Ah sea battles. Her head turned to the Admiral then and she let honeyed voice raise. "The Shadow Storm is at your disposal Admiral...though..I am I will admit quite confused."Her attention shifted to the


Ealora: Duchess and then to Maahes. "Apollo did not mention murder.."Then again how was she to know if he had or not, only catching parts of his and Maahes conversation the other night. She had been deemed to simple minded to be important to the conversation, or so it had seemingly been implied to her. Her attention again shifted to the Duchess. "No one is ever happy to see things end this way, your grace. War is not a happy affair, it is an ugly one but if this means an end to better possibility, A free possibility, then it is the derective we must take. Even if it costs lives, those lives can not be in vein. We can not let them be. To save what is and to see a better tomorrow of what remains..to continue hoping and reaching...for the stars even if they are out of grasp, is better then doing nothing with..well with our thumbs up our arse." Ok so political to a point, you could scrub pirate from your arm but not from your vocabulary or lifestyle. That was just asking to much.*

Shaden: Ahhh just the man she was looking for.. her eyes met with his and she nodded softly a little dip his way. before skirts were swishing thru the mingeling crowds to make way to his side " Sir Kendrew.. it is good to see you looking hale and hearty.. but without your better half? where is the Lovely Lillianna tonight ?" she sidled up next to him, her eyes taking in the sight of both Ealora and Maahes Glaring at each other.. someone was in trouble again.. ahhh the joys of matrimony two jumping beans in a pod.. glad she wasn't suffering from the delusional state of marriage.. " I must admit Kendrew.. I have come here tonight for no other reason than to seek you out ?" she gave him a coqettish grin tilting the copper curls toward him in a innocent yet flirtatious manner.. married or not.. it did a man good to have a little feminine attention.. now and again..(d)

Maahes It came with a great relief that she would let them be, but deep down he had no doubt she would allow it. Bess's words rang clearly through him, and the pain of heartache would cause his palm to press his side. If only the pressure would relieve the pain. Maahes went silent as often he did letting the words of the rest filter around him picking out only what he wished to hear, but still aware of every word lifted. It would not be until his wife rang of a name that should have been kept secret. "Ealora." He barked at her like a father scolding a child, a master calling down his dog. "That was not Apollo, that was Percival." Yes he was calling her a liar in front of the court, but the desperate look of baby..shut up was mirrored there from the rich golden brown of his eyes. Turning to Bess, "I should return to the valley." Passing then his motion to Jack he gave the man a heavy pat upon his back, "Would be a great wake up call..blowing them out of the water." To then his eyes would pass to Adam and he gave a nod having not even done so. Lord one of these days he would get it right, these manners and social politics--one step at a time. Taking the hand of his wife he would drag her out by the hair of her head if he must. Bending in to whisper he brushed his lips against her neck, "Don't fight me here..wait til we get outside..I'll let you get the first punch in." Pulling away the tone of his face was oh-so-serious..yeah..she could hit him free of charge if she'd like! (d

Jack Flynn: The Irishman inclined his head, "Aye, m'lady..." He took a deep breath, before letting it out. Then he said, clearly, "M'lady, I would formally request tha' I be issued a decree ta carry out a war against tha forces tha' 'avechosen at array us in tha harbor at Dunluce...." There was one a moment's pause, before he continued, "An' I would ask ta 'ave special dispensation ta wage war flyin' Ulster's flag -- true an' proud." For the Irishman, the raid on the English vessels at Dunluce and assault on Dunluce Castle weren't solely connected to Skye's on-going war against the Bruce and his English lapdogs. This mission encompassed only one thing for the Irishman: a settling of . accounts between the Irishman and the English. When the Irish had attempted to recapture their homeland, Dunluce had been the staging point. Dunluce had been the town for which Jack and Mairi had fought so hard and long for. And it had been where Mairi, and the unborn child she had carried, had died. The English presence - no, the English *taint* - at Dunluce would not be allowed to continue. The Irishman turned his head quietly, meeting Ealora's eyes calmly, "I thank ye fer offer, Cap'n Asad-Aziem.... An' one tha' I would readily accept." There was a ghost of a smile, "I shall try nae ta keep yer from yer 'usband tae long, Cap'n." Then he bowed softly. (d)

Adam: Adam looked to the commanders and stood erect... his hand upon Bess' shoulder... "If others seek refugee in Skye... then Skye shall protect them 'til Skye herself bae threatened bae them. If Lord General deems th'se important enuff tae bae granted asylum, Avaria shall bae on notice if'n they fail tae conform ta the treaty as twas written before... then sae shall it is decreed." then he looks to Jack... "Lord High Admiral... Ah thank yae faer de information... Deem the Navy bae used as yae see fit tae deter the Ainglish from Scot borders... deny them access tae Scot harbors... and if'en they sail tae Ireland for refuge... sink their ships at any Irish port... Ah shall naet 'ave Ainglish ships, naer Scot ships under Ainglish orders threaten our borders, or our people... even if they bae in another land... Fly the Ulster flag, and Skye colors when yae feel necessary..." He looked around... "People... as if yae didnae knaew before, we are at war... and shall bae at war until those who deny us are defeated... Maubrey is in our gaol... but nae be fooled that he is nae lethal... he has other countries at his avail... Ah at at a delimma... others have called for his release... or bear ponderance upon our doorstep... Ah wish Skye tae bae at peace... but until we make a stand that the world will notice... Ah feel that we shall forever bae at war... and hence is the reason..." he pauses and swallows... then he glances at Bess and then back to those present... "... Ah am calling for a spring campaign... Skye spies have informed us that the Ainglish are maneuvering this winter for an attack at early spring... both land and sea..." he looks for any expression upon the faces gathered... "The Court n Clans shall bae informed on the morrow... and knaew this... Skye is nae alone... we now have the support of Argania and the Europa alliance. Those that are naet of the Europa alliance shall naet join Aingland... they dunnae want tae crush trade with Skye and her alliances... so as powerful as Maubrey and Aingland... we shall nay make it easy..." This was more words spoken that he had publicaaly said since his ascension to Duke... His hand had gripped Bess' shoulder hard unconsciously. Now he saw what he had done and relaxed. Sea-green eyes offering silent apologies. Having said much... and now was not the time for him to listen to anything nor anyone.... Leaning to kiss Bess once again, he whispered... "Ah shall bae in the library contemplating our circumstances<d>


Kendrew: "What have you to tell me, Shaden come, we 'ave time tae talk. The Duke is drawin' his eve to a close, will it be more to ponder, like this?" He lifted his hand in the wake of the truth Adam put before them. They were at war, and not only that, but it involved powerful players. He was at once sickened by the proclaimation but to his own credit could hardly wait to lay his weapon into enemy flesh. He had his own score to settle. Aye, int his he could feel for the Admiral greatly. "Ye fair well. The Lily is becomin' successful, so I have heard, and promises to do e'en better. My wife is resting. The days are harder 'pon her of late. Our duties are many." Nearness of she coaxed a smile as he tucked a hair behind her ear. "I've missed your company little one."

Beathag She listened but didn't flinch or recoil from the declaration he made. No, the wife was proud of her husband, the Duchess of her Duke. As he took his leave she spoke to those gathered, "No, war is neither beautiful nor somethin' grand, As close as I be tae 36 now n' as many as I have lived in or fought in, it ne'er becomes any better, but at leas tour causes have great meanin'. Perhaps we can sleep well in tha'. It is no easy thing, for a man to leave war to his generals n' admirals, nay, it isn't. Yet, I still believe he will face his father on tha' field, as is proper. Mine is a different field all together, n' sae far m'harp has taken me to some strange places indeed. " The box the captain had offered her earlier was unclasped while she spoke, "One needn't gae far here, to see odd things. Adam sleeps e'en less for talk another Duke comin' tae visit him.." A tap, rat-a-tap of pagan fingers as she spoke of the seat of all Christendom "They talk of makin' a prince of him, he is already one...by heritage...but recognized by tha' Pope. Tis strange times, indeed.." When the box was opened she saw within it a relic of Dunlace. "Admiral.. I can nay.." She looked to the lap harp and then to him. Should this not rightfully belong to the child he so loved? To hold Dunlace's lap harp was akin to holding the first bible, in her case (d)

Shaden: "I've missed you too " she smild up at the hulking man, and lifted on tiptoe to press a sisterly kiss to his cheek.. ok so she sorta hopped up to do it.. but it was accomplished.. before she returned to her ground level view at the man whom was the first she called frined when coming to this Isle.. at barely five foot tall in her heels... she was almost doll-like upside some of the giants that roamed these halls.. but.. big things came in small packages " as much as I would like to say I was serching you out for you company.. though that is always a bonus.. I am seeking information.. for a close friend.. on a delicate matter.. and it comes to my attetion you... may be a source of such information...?" her brows canted upward teasingly as she took his arms.. better for those around to think she was flirting or seducinghim.. than knowing the truth of the matter. for it was.. a secret.. well at least till Ealora's big mouth blurted things out.. but.. Maahes had handled her.. like he always did..(wicked evil grin )(d)

Ealora: Celadon eyes flared with fire. He was calling her a liar in front of the court! Her lips created a thin line as they pressed together tightly. Her head dipped to Jack, at least letting him know she heard him and also that they would nbe discussing the use of the Shadow Storm at another time. Her face turned, Chin tilted upward. Shut up! Brows knitted together downward as she scowled in his direction. Well if he had told her what was going on she wouldn't of blurted anything out, now would she?! Her hand taken into his and with a tug, she followed and only because she would not create a scene in front of the entire court. No goodbyes offered. The woman was fuming mad. "I'll give you three guesses of where you're sleeping tonight.."She seemed to purr as they passed the others in the hall, a wicked little smile curling her lips. For all anyone knew, she was a good little wife, apologizing and promising to 'make it up' to him later.*

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

"When you're gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you."

A Strong Broken Heart
- The Knowledge of the Princes' Disappearence -

Beathag: Each day, the shadow of the obvious loomed ever-closer to the party privy to hearing the hardship first hand. Pretty words were decoded for the sake of understanding. Ill tidings came wrapped in formality that creased a line deep onto the brow of the Duke. "Worry not on these things," he'd told her yestereve, holding her shoulders in his hands as guided by his wishes, she formed her own. It was his will she saw to sight when he launched the arrow, being the air that guided it to the target. How were they to know the knotch would not be knocked? The carriage wheels swayed gentle over the stones as she told her ladies "Adam is right, yet tae leave him to those hungry wolves....a year agone we were at war, and now another year it is the same. There is nothin' new beneath the sun n' sky.." At least they could share the circumstances for joy or sorrow. The winter carriage was laden inside with furs, heavy shutter to keep the cold. All the same, something made her shiver before they could even see what awaited them in Griffin Castle. Guards were running over the walls. The courtyward was full of activity, yet no one spoke. From the castle would eminated the weeping, wailing of a woman who held terrible news. Suddenly, the swaying stopped, but on the incline of the hill before the gates. Leaning forward in the sudden lurch, Beathag reached her hands out to the seat before her. "What in the 'ell is gaein on?" Her uncouth, uncut lack of decorum was peppered with her hand hitting the door thrice. When no answer came, she peered outside to see the epic unfolding (d)

Liliana: Today was a better day for Liliana. She'd not felt as tired when getting out of bed and her energy did not seem to be as low. Seated beside Bess, warm in the confines of the carriage, she listened to the Duchess's words quietly. What soothing words could be offered? Reaching out a gloved hand to gently grasp that of her friend's she whispered,"We will endure what comes together. There is yet hope for us." The words were not much, but they were something. All of those within Skye needed to have hope during such trying times and Liliana wanted Bess to know that she was not alone in this. Liliana worried for her own husband just as Bess worried of hers. It was the lurch of the carriage, a motion that had Liliana's arm shooting out across Bess's midsection incase she should tumble off the seat, that had brows furrowing. "What..." Bess's words did well in voicing the thought of those inside. Moving her: arm, allowing Bess to shift about if need be, Liliana watched the Duchess's face as she looked out,"What is it...?" [d]

Rosalind The mood in the castle was decidedly grim, with frequent pronouncements by men and women she'd come to respect that: "Ah dinna gi' a fig fer politics!" With warm looming so near on the horizon, and one not far past whose wounded had yet to be fully counted, and hostile letters flying as quickly as the messengers could race over Scotland's rough terrain, it was, Rosalind decided, a miracle that tavern discussions remained so lively and lighthearted, with only an occasional alcohol-fueled fist or two let loose before anger dissipated and the revels continued. She knew, too, that despite the dismal tidings that kept mounting within the castle, Her Grace was well aware of the tenacity of her people. She only hoped something good happened within the next few weeks to rescue the upcoming holy feast days. Those hopes crashed spectacularly as their carriage lurched to a halt. Rosalind could do nothing from where she sat to help either lady and grimaced as her leg was jostled. She shifted and moved as many coverings away from the windows as she could for a better view of what was happening, less that Bess or Lili might need to trouble themselves. *

Beathag: The tenacity of a people were what proved them in times like these. Politics, passions, and everything aside it was how they lived through and after, how they proceeded during. How hard they fought to keep the core belief intact while fighting for others. The particular breed of Skye Isle Celts and their immigrant fellow citizens excelled at this task. Still, how did one rise with no test? God saw fit to put this before the fledging nation early and often,always often. With the window coverings pulled away, Beathag gave a silent beg of pardon to her ladies as she craned her head this way or that. "The men run o'er the walls like they are bein' chased or be chasin' somewhat. Mayhaps tis nay safe or somethin' wos said? I just..I can nay figure.." Griffin Castle was host to scenes of life altering proportion. All of the tragedy in her halls mingled with the joy that echoed as the years went by. Thus far no words could be heard. "Is Kendrew before or aft o' us, mayhaps he can get forward..." No sooner was this said than the man's horse cut through the stilled procession and demand the carriage be lifted forward and into the
courtyard.

Kendrew "That was foolish! Ye could have hurt the women!" He barked with no reprieve, giving his command that the rest of the guard advance as well. Inside was precious cargo that he would lay his life for, thrice over. Inside of this carriage rested every aspect of his current life, what was good and whole about it. "I demand to know why they were stopped at Her Grace's own gates, is this some new custom?" People began to look among themselves. Who would say it, and how? The air was decidedly rife with the stench of intrigue and the lingering pestilance of fear. They were riding into the aftermath "Surround the women, all sides. Do not let a piece of them gae unguarded!"

Beathag: A half smile formed in the face of this tension. Liliana put out a hand over the belly of the Duchess, but did not do so for herself. Beathag instinctively held the hand of the woman who was smaller than herself, while posistioning herself beside Rosalind to see to the well being of both of her women. "Our household will know no peace. They can not say we be unseasoned, aye lasses?" The guard came to open the doors, and not the footmen. This was serious business (d)

Liliana: Frowning at Bess's words, she glanced in Rosalind's direction with concern. What Bess described did bode well. Something was not right. Kendrew's voice had a slight smile appearing on Liliana's lips, his concern for them sweet, though it did not erase the unease within. Holding Bess's hand tight, reaching out a hand to pat Rosalind's knee, she raised a brow,"Are you two well?" She worried that the jostle could have hurt the women. Liliana did not worry for herself. That was just the way of her. "No they cannot." Grinning at Bess, hoping to allay any fear in the Duchess, Liliana glanced toward the door as guards came to unopen it. What in the world is going on? Chocolate eyes seemed tohold that question in them as they met the gaze of each woman inside. [d]

Rosalind: "Ah, no," Rosalind said with a quick shake of her head, too curious about what was outside the carriage now to give much attention to her leg. Since Bess was well enough to move closer, it relieved Rosalind to indulge her curiosity. "It is just a bump. But Kendrew is right. It is odd indeed to be stopped outside the gates. Unless they are worried more about what is escaping than the safety of what is entering?" She arched a brow at Bess in query, and had just sense enough not to poke her head outside the window and demand an answer from the nearest man-at-arms. And just at that moment, the door opened. "Please, allow me to go first, madam, Liliana." She sniffed danger on the cold breeze that ruffled the hair poking out from beneath her wimple. She slid out of the carriage, and trusting the guards more than her own instincts, stepped aside to help Liliana and Bess down. *

Beathag: "Aye. Than someone has gone inside o' the castle. It must have only happened, or they would have haulted our carriage in the streets, before we left the other halls." The Duchess looked to the Lady of Inveryne with the eyes of intelligent deduction and the scepticism that comes when things seem only half in place. Why had they not been stalled at the pass below before allowed up into the hilly path? All the same, she allowed her first presidence. Letting Liliana advance first, she slipped a dark gloved hand offered up. Quickly, a tight ring was being opened to allow them in, but nothing else. Two men on each side, two behind, two infront. Taking the rear of their party her eyes scanned her home to see how it was not right. She saw these looks before, only now they seemed as if something had happened, not that something was ensuing now. "The air is too thick," she whispered to the women. If they were but three maidens in this ring of men they would know nothing, but it was three ripe women they encased who used perception to see what went unseen. "Let us stay vera close then."

Kendrew: "Take them in to the Great Hall. You, tell me everything.." Kendrew awaited the retinue of men, and the two infront became three with his presence. Crossing from the courtyard to the interior was going from one winter into a deeper one. The crying of women became evident. The hushed, muted whispers of disbelief. The guards had been doubled in their stations, and it appeared as if people searched odd places in the corridors. In spite of himself, lifted hand made the sign of the cross over his person. As the great hall doors lay open, he stayed on the threshold with one hand instictively over his sword as the women were being ushered within. His eyes connected with each woman in turn, "Remain here, for now. I'll gae to find out what has happened and return to report it in full. Ah'll have food sentto break your fasts, tis been long since any of you had a meal, tis well past noon."Authorative voice issued exact command. There was no way around this, the doorway was to be thickly lined with men in his wake creating a deep wall of armor and skill. "Form rank!" Beyond the door he went to find out what wouldhappen, leaving them waiting, and him all too knowledgable. Unseen from feminine eyes, masculine ones looked from one to the other. The weeping, wailing lady was brought to him and commanded to hush her tones lest they reach the ears of others (d)

Liliana: Listening to the words passed between Bess and Rosalind, she glanced back toward the door of the carriage. Her feeling of unease increased and she wished that someone would tell them what had occurred. Stepping down, aided by a hand, whose she was not sure, as the three women were placed in the middle of a tight circle. Reaching out a hand to grasp one of Bess's she nodded,"It is. I have a feeling of something...unpleasant." Falling silent, sticking close to Rosalind and Bess, she moved along inside. Coming to the hall, stepping inside, Liliana's chocolate eyes briefly went to Kendrew. She did not question the order and gave a nod. After Kendrew left her gaze went to Bess and Rosalind with a slightly humorous smile,"And now...we wait..." [d]

Rosalind: Rosalind was quietly incensed that she was not allowed to see for herself what had happened. Servants were to be used, after all, not just for the chores they managed, but for the eyes in their heads and the tongues in their mouths. She didn't much like waiting, or surprises, for that matter. Yet she nodded agreement with Lili's words, glad the woman could find some amusement in being kept locked away from the action. Rosalind had never quite come terms with her label as the weaker sex. "As do I, but have hope -- it might be something minor." Likely not, but being a realist and a doomsayer were two different things entirely. *

Kendrew: "Are you certain. Are you CERTAIN this has come to pass? Where, and when? How did they come to be here.." The barage of questions were useless for the maid gave all the information that she could give, and no matter how many times she said it, the outcome was never better. "You must take her somewhere to be composed, no. She must nay be seen this way, spare the woman her dignity!" He snarled, nearly countered by another woman who thought her cousin ought share the words for herself with the Lady. They were all close, she claimed, a household united! "No!" he barked low, and the woman snapped her mouth shut so they were escorted away elsewhere. Over the guard's wall at the greathall, perhaps that resourceful servant would see how a cowering woman, in the arms of another, was being led off with haste as if to make her disappear. There was more scurrying afoot, an order of rooms to be searched: "The Lord's chambers, The Lady's chambers, all of them, the children's chambers, again. Each crevice, each place, nothin to be left unturned! Do not leave your backs uncovered. You three, go out into the city. Find the Weapon's Master and the Duke will be with him, tell them, Lord Zurban will know what to do for Adam. Send out for the Marshalls, Generals, and Admirals. Have them assemble in haste." His words, though low, could still be disterned. " My Lady Avalle, Lady Campbell, will ye come to me for a moment? Please..Your Grace, wait, but a little more.." (d)

Liliana: In truth, it irked Liliana much to be made to wait. She wanted to go out there and find out what was happening for herself. Yet, she knew that Kendrew had only their best interests at heart. He would return in due time with answers. "Of course, it could well be." Nodding to Rosalind, agreeing, though chocolate eyes held the truth. That she did not believe it was. It wasthe sound of her name and that of Rosalind's that had Liliana turned toward the doorway. Brow lifting, stomach tightening in knots, she glanced briefly to Bess and then moved to him. That Bess was being made to wait made her even more uneasy. This did not bode well...[d]

Rosalind: Rosalind was too much the lady to give over to cursing. Even if she knew a language that her two companions did not, she held her tongue. This castle ran as a well-oiled machine, with or without Rosalind hearing all the news firsthand. Her eyes coolly passed across the hall, looking for anything out of place, yet despite Kendrew's commands, the atmosphere was still too thick with whatever had happened, and any sense of normalcy had flown out the windows. Answers would come soon enough, and if she had patience for a few moments more.... Rosalind thought it must be grim news indeed if Bess was made to wait alone with the guards. She inclined her head to beg her pardon from Bess and left with Lili to speak with Kendrew. "What has happened?" *

Beathag: "What is the matter?" She asked to herself and expected no answer. Taking a seat in a chair, she found herself with trusted men on either side. Yet it was a tomb to be between them with silence the vice neither would surrender. To Beathag's credit she did not tear down the rank nor resort to common tactics to acquire her way. Too much lay at stake; her hand took hold of her belly as if to soothe a child too tiny to be more than an inkling of a human body. Rubbing over velvet side to side with a leather touch, she hummed a soft lullaby to slow the quickening of her blood.

Kendrew: "When we left the halls, we all saw The Prince at his lessons," Aodhan had been practicing his sword play, laughing as he always did. "His horsemanship was finished, and he left before us with his caretaker. You saw this, aye?" He watched Beathag, but took it upon himself to keep paces on all members of the household of any importance. His voice remained low, and his hands were clenched, captured. One over the other, even under the gloves it was easy to envision them white with tension. (D)

Liliana: Mention of little Aodhan made Liliana's hand tremble. She grasped them together in front of her, listening to Kendrew's words, so as to keep calm. "Aye, I did. What has happened, Kendrew?" Chocolate eyes, darkened more by growing concern, searched his face. Her voice was kept low and she glanced briefly at Rosalind. Was he missing? Was he ill? Was he hurt? Bess would not take any such news well. She had already lost one child... [d-]

Beathag: "What is the matter?" She asked to herself and expected no answer. Taking a seat in a chair, she found herself with trusted men on either side. Yet it was a tomb to be between them with silence the vice neither would surrender. To Beathag's credit she did not tear down the rank nor resort to common tactics to acquire her way. Too much lay at stake; her hand took hold of her belly as if to soothe a child too tiny to be more than an inkling of a human body. Rubbing over velvet side to side with a leather touch, she hummed a soft lullaby to slow the quickening of her blood.

Kendrew: "When we left the halls, we all saw The Prince at his lessons," Aodhan had been practicing his sword play, laughing as he always did. "His horsemanship was finished, and he left before us with his caretaker. You saw this, aye?" He watched Beathag, but took it upon himself to keep paces on all members of the household of any importance. His voice remained low, and his hands were clenched, captured. One over the other, even under the gloves it was easy to envision them white with tension. (D)

Rosalind: Rosalind began to put two and two together. With a slow look of sick horror dawning on her face, she voiced her suspicion. "He is gone. And not by his own will." She frowned. "Who would have taken him," she asked then, her voice pitched low. She looked back to Liliana. "Why else would the gates have been lowered, if not for an unwanted escape?" Rosalind's mind began turning over possibilities, but she put a halt to that immediately. Kendrew was standing right there, after all, and could easily explain the situation. *

Kendrew "There is more. The chamber maid says that she saw the child our Graces' chambers, held by Maubrey. " He wanted to do a great many things now. Every second stood still was a second wasted. "You must be 'pon the ready. Look o'er staff, Rosalind, Liliana. In Jelenah's absence ye both know better than any how to seek out the wrong...You will all be guarded, constantly. I wish to tell you this now so as ye expect no less." The voice of the soldier teemed with a raw anger, that sense of being violated. "Ye must until it is cleared use the most direct passages. The servant's ways are not safe. Though I think they came by other route.."

Beathag: The waiting no longer boded well with Beathag. Too many things happened that they saw fit to shelter her, and with the child the condition of worrying for the frail only grew worse. Rising from her chair with no words, she preceeded to walk across the hall to the wall of thick, armor clad men. "Ah bid ye move," she said in calm, direct tone. Loathed to do so, she only said, "Remember in who's household you serve." In that the corridor beyond teemed with more guards, the men began to disperse. They would not have let her through if it were unsafe, she reasoned, so there was something else. "There is a sloth in mah halls taeday, sir. Quicken it. Wot has come in or out o' m'walls to test us n..." From one room to the next, across the length of the hall she had been carried, and placed. Moved again, the body of the child's caretaker was making her grim movements across the hall. The cover over her face had fallen away, a limp hand slapping the back of trooping legs. "Aida!" Instantly she turned her head. Never one to be disuaded by bodies, the condition of the neck was garish. The knife, now removed, left a gaping hole where it had gone through. Caught unawares, the poor woman died with wide opened eyes and blood pouring forth, not congealed and brown, on her skin.

Kendrew: "I think..." The call of the name turned his head sharply around, and instantly he stood before his wife, bringing her head to his chest. With Rosalind, he used his height to shield her eyes. "Don't look, for the sake of Christ, do not look!." The body was being moved beyond them, near them. He would not allow them a view of a member of their staff, so prized, killed so coldly. It was so feral, so raw. With no mercy the woman had died. At once he knew that Beathag had seen it, and knew the questions could be avoided no longer. "Call for a priest, have the body blessed, a vigil made.." Poor, poor Aida.

Beathag: "Where is my son?" (d)

Liliana: Oh God, how could... The idea of that precious little boy in the hands of Maubrey made her feel ill. That man was a monster. "How...how could he..." Shaking her head, ebony braid swaying with the movement, head moving in a soft nod given with each word he spoke. "Kendrew, what of Bess? This...this will undo her..." Liliana feared what would happen when Bess found out Aodhan was gone and in the hands of an evil man. Though not in the household during the Duchess's loss of Edme, she had heard of the woman's pain, and now that Aodhan was missing... Oh God. Her concern was doubly heightened though for Bess was pregnant. Worry such as this could be bad. Yet, it was the outcry of the very woman spoken of that had Liliana's head turning quickly until it was shoved into Kendrew's chest. The briefest glimpse of a body made her thankful for his action, for even now she could recall the death of a man to a horse, and it was only Bess's question that made her lift it slightly. [d]

Rosalind: These were sounds of shock and despair not unique to a household, and for the briefest of moments, she was transported to the time she accepted Domhnall's body back to Inveryne. She had looked then, but would not now. This was not a wound that had been suffered in battle, but one received without warning in the protection of a defenseless child. She turned away from the body of Aida. "If you will permit me, I may have more finesse than a man in conducting an investigation among the household. If there is a traitor among us...." Her words trailed as Bess approached, but she hoped her offer would not be forgotten. Rosalind could not bring herself : to look Bess in the eyes -- her way of dealing with those she cared about was through plain truth. A mother would demand nothing less, though, but Liliana's concerns were right. She never dreamed to think of Bess as a hothouse flower, but this was intense news to bear. She gently touched the Duchess's arm. They had relative privacy here, but she was not cruel enough to delay the news after the Duchess had so clearly seen what happened to Aida to seek a quieter room. "I am sorry, madam. Your son has gone missing." She looked to Kendrew for help in finishing. She could not bring herself to connect Maubrey's name to this. *

Beathag: "Please, tell me now." A voice with no waver, a glance with no breaking. Footsteps that did not faulter as she moved one in front of the other. The guards moved to allow her passage to her faithful, loyal friends. Her family. "He is.." Rosalind's tender words finished the sentence with a grip of arm. The truth was told but the feeling was pounding in her body. The empty, echoing echo of Aodhan's laughter from the morning seemed a hundred miles away. "How did this happen?" The color in her face began to drain. Ounce by ounce the blood liquid race raced down and out of the soles of her shoes. But she stood firm. Tight line of mouth opened only to repeat the question again.

Kendrew: "He was taken, my lady. They say tha' it was on the secret passages from the Lord's Chambers..he was taken by Maubrey." Kendrew put his hand out to Beathag's shoulder. Firm hands kept her upward but found the Lady Griffin resolute

Beathag: "The passages...our passages." She clarified. The our would be indicative of the lot she and Adam used. "The...the castle is a puzzle box, there..are places e'en the servants n'er know..only the lord and perhaps the..chamberlain, at one point. Maubrey..would have..known them." To her credit she remained erect even as she turned from them. "Mah poor son.." She whispered for the babe in the hands of the Devil, rocked by the craddle of pure evil. She picked up her skirts and began to quietly move down the hall..to turn..(d)

Kendrew "Follow her.. " (d)

Rosalind: She moved after the Duchess, Kendrew's command unnecessary as it came from behind. Wherever Bess went, until Rosalind had a door shut in her face, she would go. The mention of passages and puzzles was perplexing, especially how Maubrey might have come to know such intimate information about the castle's construction, but that was a matter she would tuck away in the back of her thoughts. For now, she was all concern, and if the woman needed someone to cry or shout at, Rosalind would be there with open ears and heart. *

Beathag: "My son.." She sealed her eyes as the sunlight cut through the stark, empty fact that Aodhan was not here. No wish to be held was fufilled, nor a feverant desire to kiss his skin. A mother's ached for their babies. A child's weight could press on the limbs, the chest, and so was the feeling of burden now. She placed her forehead to the stones of the corner to gain composure as she whispered, "Maubrey has taken the heart from our body. Summon Adam, be mindful o' how he is told, he may rage...he may..fall." The other half of her soul would do what she could not. For the sake of the baby within, she would not. To demonstrate the strength of the household, she would not give Maubrey the pleasure of reducing her where any could see. Yet how much had they seen? It sickened her to know that he couled have had spies among her household, lurking in her walls. More than likley this was it, for in the monthssince poisonings and killings were done, all the staff was rigorously scrutinized for conduct and character. He hid them with the knowledge he had for years. "Liliana, Rosalind. Maubrey was alive when the last lord reigned, Adam' grandfather, his mother's father. He killed tha' man, and his other heirs, Adam's aunts. He married Adam's mother and was the death of her too. In all of his conquests this is his core, his vengence. He has wanted this for years as the seat o' his kingdom,s tretching over miles. He will not rest until he has done all he can. Ye must be more vigilant now, than e'er. No matter our stances or wot others will see, in public, we must be a stones. Unmovin unchangin..he..he will not have the pleasure...o' our sorrow, our shames...in the daylight..Ah will not give leave for mah baby to cry anymore than he shall. If he hears o' these timses he will remember us for our resolution, our love o' him so great we showed naught but strength. They expect me to do less, n' i will do more. If I forget, remind me. Ah will not commend m'son nor my unborn to graves." She held her belly for the treasure it was and what flourished within, even as her heart broke for what it could not have. "He was alive to know e'ery crevice of this castle, Maubrey was. How could we not have known? We must remind the women, go where it is guarded, always. Go with care upon your errands and tell them to talk not of these tidings with anyone save their good kin. He will try to humiliate mah husband..he will do everythin' to reduce us to nothing." She gave commands and held fast to them, even as her face became snow white (d)

Liliana Of words passed between Kendrew, Rosalind, and Bess, she did not speak one. Liliana did not know what comfort to offer. Yet, she took great pride in Bess. The woman did not crumble nor shatter. She faltered but a bit and then her strength came through. Following after Bess, giving a brief kiss to Kendrew, a silent meeting of eyes to offer comfort, for they all loved Aodhan, Liliana listened to Bess closely. "I will let those in the household know not to walk the halls alone and to keep to the main passages." Reaching out a hand, gently grasping Bess's forearm, Liliana would attempt to bring her to a halt as she'd whisper gently,"We will find him Bess. Aodhan is strong like bothAdam and you. He will come out of this healthy, safe, and happy." [d]

Beathag: She stood still in the last place her foot fell. Both hands to a door, she turned around as her friend took hold of her arm. "Ah know, Liliana. All will..will be made right. It has to be. We will not bury another child." Tight, determined grip held the small hand as if a mixture of fortifying strength and taking it from Liliana herself. "Come..help me to prepare. There will be much talk n' I am determined nay to be put away n' behind a shadow. We must array ourselves n' the garments o' the women o' the household, our colors. " She continued on her way with her friend in tow. She continued, her world held up by these beliefs, these people, and the knowledge that she: would not lose Aodhan. Inward, she said a prayer..Gods take not my son...ye have my daughter in your care...take not m'precious son... Take not the Prince of Skye, take not the Heir of the West. Take not the heart of them, the soul of them. Take it not, please (d)

[strongjustice]

The Escape - Part 2

The day had began as all the others since the leaves had fallen from the trees. Now the ground was covered in a white blanket… the roads muddied. The clash of wooden swords echoed in the halls of the Arena as Dmitrii and Adam went about their daily routine. As a rule, the Gryphon attended to the daily life of early morning patrols of the outer castle, then hours before midday were spent with the Weapons Master practicing the age old trait of a warrior.

Both men were in light armor, and Adam was learning the better technique of two swords, a skill that Dmitrii had perfected. Adam knew that the Kievan warrior was worth three men in battle, yet chose to keep his close these days. Both men were in love and had resolved to live the life of married men, though Dmi and Willa had not confirmed such, and denied the comforts Adam sought to bestow upon him.

The doors to the arena were opened slowly, and the knight, Sir Kendrew entered… and paused by the arena waiting for an opportunity to gain the Duke’s attention. And yes, once again, Dmitrii had beaten the Duke in swordplay. “One day, Ah shall beat yae at yaer own game Dmitrii…” Adam said aggravated as he went to the kneeling position after lying upon his back, one sword of the Rus at his throat, the other tapped at his groin. “That day M’Lord… I shall retire.” The Rus warrior responded. Would Kendrew smile at the words and actions of both men…? doubtful this day!!

“Sir Kendrew? Yae witness’d the defeat aye?” Adam said laughingly… but he saw the expression upon the old knight and drew near him. Leaning upon the rail, the wooden sword hilt dangling in his fingers…. “Wot say yae sir knight and old friend?” It was then that Dmitrii neared the pair and listened.

Expressions changed upon the men’s faces as the old knight informed his liege of the occurrences in the castle… Dmitrii cursed in Russian and quickly moved forward to support Adam as his knee’s buckled, the sword falling to the dirt and sand. Kendrew sprightly leaped over the rail and grabbed Adam’s other arm. “That evil bastard took mae son?” then he uttered curses that would blush a sailor, cursing the very being of the man that was his own Father. “He’s trying tae rip mae heart from mae chest he is…” words escaped against tears withheld… “Ah swear… I’ll rip his heart out… and paste it upon a pike… across the road from his impaled body…” the tears turned to anger everso quickly… the rage building inside him; which was so evident in the darkening of the sea-green eyes to emerald tints.

He looks to Kendrew… “An’ Bess? She knows?” then he bowed his head and shook it… “Ah need tae gae tae her…” Kendrew shook his head… “Nah now My liege… she is with the Ladies… go to her when you are stronger, that is what she requires most now, is yer strength...”

Dmitrii consoles his best friend and liege… but knows not what to say to the man in grief… at least that would not come out as mere words. So as usual he said nothing. But inside, a fire raged… a pure hatred for the man named Maubrey. He vowed to himself that he would not be as others, and want to so badly to kill the man… he simply prayed silently to God for strength for Adam and Bess’ and allowed to be the one that would bring Maubrey to Adam… to let Father and Son deal with what must be dealt with… and should Adam fall to Maubrey’s blade… then Dmitrii would surely kill the man and do as his liege wanted.

Adam’s stomach was flip-flopping. Oh, if he could meet his Father face to face… Dmitrii saw the expression and knew, from earlier conversations with Adam, that he wanted to meet his Father upon a field of battle.

Elsewhere…. In the castle hidden corridors, the Maubrey’s made their way, with their hostage, thru the tunnels under the castle and out to the woods beyond. Thru the woods they made their way, not like escaped prisoners, but people assured of freedom, their young hostage in tow. The young hostage, neither fought, nor resisted his captors. He showed no fear… no anxiety… his teachings thru his short years had reassured the staunch nature he was to display under dire circumstances.

In a nearby village, Maubrey entered the village, his wife and hostage remained hidden in the woods. There he found a patrol of Gyphon guards looking for them. As he emerged in the open, several guards approached him inquiring of his reasoning to be there… and in a surprise attack, he killed one guard with the dagger, then taking the man’s spear, killed two more. Now armed with a sword, he began to kill the patrol, one by one until all eight men lay dead. The man of nearly three and fifty was unsuspecting by opponents to be as skilled as he was in battle; especially to unwary soldiers.

Now he had horses… Anwen moved forward with the boy in tow… and the two mounted, hauling the boy into his lap. The Maubrey’s were now armed with swords… and horses… and off they rode. Anwen had secured two more horses and took them for replacements.

By the time evening came, evil had made its play and escaped far exceeding what most would presume. That night, around a small fire to keep them warmed, the Ebony Prince looked to his captor. “Sir, Ah know wot reason you take me; tae provide safe passage. Ah just pray yae do mae no harm. Mae Ma and Da shall not cease to look for me.” The boy was older than his years, and the older man looked at him and smiled. Anwen snarled at the boy… “Shut up…” and William countermanded her. “Let the boy speak…”

The Ebony Prince turned and stuck his tongue out at the red-headed woman, then turned to the old man. “My Lord… wot be yaer name? Ah wish ta know who has taken me from mae family.” And then he offered such a charming smile… learned from his Father no less. William smiled… “My name is William… William Maubrey… and this is Anwen, my wife.”

Maubrey? Aodhan’s expression changed. “By the Gods, Ah ‘ave heard that name mentioned by mae Da and Ma… they say you are a bad man… the devil in the flesh they say…” the young lad was only repeating what he had many shall over the past year…. “Is that right boy? Do tell…” William answered.

“Aye…” the lad responds, reiterating what had been said amongst the people because of Lord Maubrey's actions past and present. Then the boy changed directions in the conversation. “Mae Da is teaching me to be a Duke one day…” William canted his head… “I am a Duke too… the King’s advisor for this area… and yaer Da is rebelling agin me...” William said in a low charming voice. Meanwhile, Anwen stewed... agitated.

And so the conversation went… the boy retaliating about rebelling, and how they were free... then on to telling a lot of his own experiences with the Aberdeen family… and basically bringing William up to speed on how the Aberdeen personal life was… and how the family came together. Then the lad poked the fire with a stick… and looked at the old man… “Sir… in my teachings, my Da always said to respect an enemy… shall I respect you?” William listened to the boys ramblings and at last was amazed at the boy’s question…

And the conversation then took yet another direction discussing respect of others… especially in war… After a few moments of discussion, William then spoke to the boy in a heavy bass tone… “Enough talk tonight boy… lay down and sleep…”

Once again Aodhan poked the fire and looked at the old man… “Sir… One last question…” William nodded… Aodhan laid down the stick… “Da says you are his Father… Are you my grandfather?” [/color]

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Passages

Eamonn: Sure enough trouble waited for no man. It did not take long for something to come undone and in the chaos of the world become disheveled. Eamonn had not been in the city of Heahburg for long before a courier from Turas Lan came to deliver most distressing news. Maubrey, the man he wanted and partitioned to kill so many times was now loose about the Isle. Had he not forseen this? Did he not warn the Duchess and Duke to kill him before more hell and fury was unleashed upon them? Now, they would have to catch him again, which was never easy to do. To say Eamonn was annoyed was a serious understatement. He was angry...but had no knowing of what else the vile Lord had done in his escaping. As far as he knew, the man was simply out of his cell. Well, warrant or not, Eamonn was going to spear the man if he caught him, and let that be the end of it. No more live prisioners. Eamonn would risk imprisonment himself if it meant the death of Maubrey. With permission from his wife to wear his armour, Eamonn was garbed in the iconic appearel of Lord Marshal. Aislin had journeyed with him and his small band of riders to Turas Lan, he on a mission to find out more about the escape of Maubrey. Booted feet thudded against the stone steps as he stalked up to the doors, and without a word needing to be said, the doors were open for him and his wife. The horse helm gleamed in the caught light as he pulled it from his head, letting blond hair seen to sight. Tucking the helmet with the pale horse hair plume under his arm, Eamonn cleared his throat, and hardened eyes glanced about. ``Find me my sister or brother-in-law. Now.`` He barked, standing tall and stiffly, gloved fingers of his other hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword

Brom: Ancient men of wisdom decreed there was nothing new beneath the moon or sun when the world was all but dust and a dream for greatness. Men had achieved towers spiraling to the heavens, grand ships to sail the sea on, and a mastery of both beasts and motion to tame the land. The farther one traveled the eldest thought was proven true. Trouble was as common as breath in Skye; it was the tempo moving each step, the whisper an interloper was privy to, or the cautionary glance. The Duke and Duchess had scrutinized every inch of their holdings but no matter how many guards, how many sayings put in place, and how many consequences trouble still came to their doors. If only they had known it had literally lurked in Griffin's walls, they could have ceased it. It was there, watching, breathing with them with knowledge so obvious that it was overlooked. Maubrey knew where he was! He knew the intimate details of structure's and the secrets the puzzle box of Gaelic-Norman design created. To enter Griffin Castle was to find a well oiled machine. At every corner, passage, or threshold stood guards while on the walls there was a doubled, eagle-eyed watch. In silence the maids of chamber, kitchens, or to individuals within the castle would stoop low at the arrival of the Lord Marshall and his wife. Fluid, slow rising almost had them bleed to the shadows cast out on the tapestry as they were escorted from place to place. His request was their wish to see granted. "My Lord, My Lady, this way." A man by the name of Brom had made his presence known in the household as a man dedicated to his duty, thorough, and fierce in his loyalty. Where some men lived their oaths, he was that oath. Picked by Sir Kendrew himself to be the right hand to his left, his appearance dictated no less. A hand over his heart as he bowed forward in respect. A sharp turn as he lead them to the room where he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt for the Duchess to be. "Lord Campbell, the Marshall and Physican have arrived."

Kendrew"My Lord." The procedure next was the absence of Brom, and the fluid rising of the women who had not left her alone. Rosalind, Jelenah, and Liliana bid their salutations while lighting candles, rising the fire, and seeing to the filling of the sideboard before quietly exiting. Kendrew remained in the corner, stoic, like the stone that formed theroom, and so they were in at last, and Beathag was before them. (d)

Aislin: It was not often that Aislin had to pick up her pace to keep up with her husband. The months of healing had done wonders for him, making him stronger and ready as ever to confront that which he so needed to. Of all the times to dress as a lady, she picked now, which was the time that she had the need to be faster. Both hands clutched at her skirts of greens and browns as she moved up the stone stairs and towards the front of the castle, keeping pace with Eamonn. Eamonn spoke, Aislin was silence as she moved by his side, softness to armor. What did this mean for Skye? Who knew and who did not? Did the people know yet? All these questions, as normal were racing through her. Brom wouldbe the answer they were seeking at this time. Coming into a room, where everyone was silence, was easier then Aislin had thought. But to look upon Bess' face, made her wonder what more there could be. Instead of rushing her with questions, she waited. Eamonn would either ask, or Bess would tell them what she knew

Eamonn It better be granted. Eamonn was not playing at this point. He was angry, and by patience acquired by his wife and children, he was holding back the raging storm. If someone was so incompetent to get his brother-in-law or sister, he would take up the task himself. But the man complied, and Eamonn gave the man named Brom a curt nod before following him down the halls to the room that his sister was taking residence in. If there was anyone who knew about the sudden and untimely disappearance of the Maubrey man, it was Bess. His sister always had a knack for knowing what was going on, more than he even, but that was no uncommon. One might even call Bess the Bloodhound of Skye. Eyes did shift to Kendrew, and the Marshal nodded to the faithful knight of Skye. The other women were given brief nods, before the Marshal turned his attention to Bess. He knew his wife followed, he did not need to pass a glance to her... not yet anyway. However, the room held the fog of unnamed tension, one that even the hardened horse lord arch a thick brow. Could this all be brought from the escape of Maubrey? He would find out, soon enough. ``Bess. News of the rat's escape has reached my ears. How long has he been let loose?`` He asked stiffly, obviously that someone had aided in the man's escape, not the Duchess of course, but someone turned his ass loose.

Beathag: "Two days, this be the second night." She replied in stoic monotone, with an immediate sense to comply. In their time as siblings, a mixture of common sense and intuition aided in how she spoke with her brother and Lord Marshall. In him, she spoke to a more upright, rigid side of herself where in her he spoke to the side that was more patient and had learned to take more in. To the other side of her blood's coin came more words as she braced her hands on thearms of her chair. Fluid, dark silks waved oil sheen pattern against gold velvets that showed beneath. A piece of hair was sent to spark's radiance by the fire and captured in the glow of the twisted gold coronet over her brow. Shemet the situation with the appearance and countenance it demanded. If a heart broke, if there was fear, it was no where to be seen that the obvious could tell. (d)

Aislin Standing as still as the others, Aislin began to cast her oceanic eyes towards Kendrew as he seemed to become a part of the castle itself, his face more serious now then she had truly taken note of before, then her eyes moved to Bess as she spoke. Two days, it was better then a week. In two days, he was not too far, by boat or by land. It was an interesting sight to see, both brother and sister speaking in stoic tones, no screaming, no yelling and no panic.How they have grown, but how long it would last, would be the true question. Still, Aislin was no fool. Something else was wrong. Where was Adam? Why was he not in this room with them now? Had he gone already? Finally, the firm and normal toned voice of Aislin spoke up. `` There be something else? Where is Adam?`` The thought of other things had not truly occurred to Aislin. The silence and short amount of words was deafening.

Eamonn: Two days too long, in his opinion, and at that, the Lord Marshal scoffed, a deep frown setting on his features. Bess, by now, knew that Eamonn had more usage of direct statements stemming from his long service to war and military means. In two days, a man could get surprisingly far. In two days, Maubrey could be anywhere. It took but a few moments for his assassin to disappear after an attempt to dispatch him. Eamonn would not be as foolish to underestimate the man Maubrey, just as the man had underestimated the hardiness of the Lord Marshal. ``Two days.`` And with that, Eamonn cursed under his breath, sneering before his eyes turned to his sister. Something was wrong. By now, having learned much about his sister, he knew when something troubled her...the trick was to pull it from her mouth. Standing at attention, the helm still tucked under his arm, his head turned and hazel eyes shifted to his wife at the sound of her voice. Adam? No telling. Probably pacing restlessly as he had seen him do before. The very thought of it made him twitch. Adam was an entirely different man than Eamonn...far kinder than he could ever be. The fact that he did not kill Maubrey was evidence enough. ``There IS something else.`` He said, matter-of-factly, and eyes turned to Bess' hand maidens still present. ``Leave.`` Eamonn commanded, before setting his helm down on the nearest table and approaching his sister. Eamonn had not the patience his wife had. Eamonn was sick of patience now. ``What is it that you do not speak of, Bess. I know you well enough to tell that something else lingers in your mind. Come, sister, out with it.`` And though his voice was firm, Eamonn meant it not unkindly. While his expression did not change from that stoic appearance, his eyes held nothing but concern for not simply the escape of Maubrey, but for his half-sister

Beathag: "He has used the King's passages, come within tae this castle." Breathing inward the golden haired bohemoth continued on. The sealing and opening of her eyes was so slow, so fluid that one forgot it was Beathag they spoke with. Flared, filled with life the regal woman was extremely tempered down. "He has committed murder by killing Aida." It was well known Aida was Aodhan's keeper, if not the first woman to become of service to Adam and Beathag when they were but two people escaping off of a boat. When Beathag fell from exhaustion, when Adam grew strained, she nourished their bodies and hearts. When the children cried, it was her hand that soothed them if parents could not. "Our son has been taken. Adam is leadin' the search to find his son and kill his father." One hand went down. One lone, hand shaking to brace herself against the table as the reality seeped hard and cold again. Then the body firmed, and the hand was withdrawn. "Mah son is in the hands o' a monster." What more could be said? "Adam, too, prepares for war. We are at it now." Yet she did not fall, nor did they weep in tears before their servants or people. It was a new breed of ruler standing before Eamonn now but it didn't mean that her heart did not cry out for what it could not have. Already her daughter had died, and now this? She still ate, slept, and moved, this was obvious.. but to look into her eyes it was evident that what hardened her was the absence of her heart, by now a heart of the country. Nostrils flared as at the sound of a door being knocked up, Kendrew turned to it. It was annonced that it was one of the most faithful messangers that they had, the swiftest, the most steadfast. He came in and said that he had seen to it all of the court had been informed, and what else should be done.

Messanger" "There are missives of war m'lady yet if his lordship and you wish it will be delayed so we might search for the Ebony Prince..."

Beathag:"No."

Messanger: "My Lady?"

Beathag:"No. "The Duke has given his ordered n' his desire they be carried. His desires are mah own. We are to be pulled in many ways than in many ways we shall go. Carry your letters tae the other places of the territory n' tell them to train n' make ready their armies. War will not wait for spring, there will be battles tae be had in the snow. Wot of your other duties?"

Messanger:"There is no word of the Apollius family, tis as if they have.."

Beathag:"Vanished. Aye then, ye may go." Nothing thrown. Nothing pitched. No one taken up or shaken. Only the bearing of a woman who could have outranked the bluest blood Queen, if only for her fortitude alone. In this it became evident just how deeply hearts could break but they could not be shown, nor other things delayed. (d)

Aislin: To be honest, Aislin was making ready for a blow that perhaps Adam had been assassinated, or worse, was currently somewhere dying slowly and Aislin was too late to come. Eyes remained on Bess, for she knew her husband's face so well she could close her eyes and see his seriousness across it. Aida, was killed. There lay another piece of information that would lead to the bottom line. Aodhan, was gone. Taken, stolen from his home to be in the hands of a man who would seemingly stop at nothing to have his way because he believed it to be correct. Aislin took in a soft breath, making her small chest rise and fall beyond the materials of her dress. The corest was much too tight now, even as it was made of material only. It bound her, more so as her chest ached beyond it, yet her face did not change, for Bess was being someone else. Someone new. A ruler in every sense of the word. No longer was she the screaming and panicked mother. When there was a knock, everything paused as the messenger came in to ask his questions and Bess gave her answers. War, they would still be going to war. Aislin, would not be going this time, but she had it in her mind on who to send with the soliders. Only her most trusted healers and those who could handle the pressure of battle. Moving to be closer to Eamonn, she did not touch him, only stood near him. Apollius? Eirian and Apollo had vanished as well? `` What would the duchess and my sister have of me?`` This was the time to stand on both lines. She was sister and head physician.

Eamonn: His sister's silence and stoic composure sent of signals that only he and those most familiar with Bess would ever know. Instead of rambling or ranting about the present situation, she was strangely direct and...silent. Eamonn knew, by that deduction alone, that something else was gone. Was Adam the next to have an attempt on his life? Nothing, could brace him for what Bess was about to say next. When news of Aodhan's capture became present, Eamonn's eyes widened, his heart stopped in his chest, and that hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Not his nephew...oh how that new made his heart break. First Edme...now Aodhan was missing, in the hands of a vile serpent. Hazel eyes flashed green as he stared as his sister, silent, but that surprise and moment of fear and sadness became anger and rage quickly. Maubrey would dare no more. Brows furrowed deeply, and Eamonn's lips pressed together to form that of a thin line. Eamonn said nothing, at first, as he simply stared, unblinking, to his sibling. How she must feel...Eamonn could not even fathom. Adam was out searching, which was good. Still...Eamonn loved Aodhan like his own son, he loved the boy dearly, and the pain of his absence was enough to cut his heart deeply. The knock on the door was the breaking of patience and composure, as his head snapped to the messenger. Delay? Delay? Certainly not, and his sister did right to say so. ``To touch the son of the Duchess is an act of war. If a war is what Maubrey wants, it is what he will get and not live long enough to see the failure in his own viliany.`` Eamonn spat out, before eyes turned to Bess. ``I swear to you, bearer of my father's blood, that I will have that man's head on the tip of my spear. Your son, my nephew, shall be brought back, alive and well.`` Eamonn said in a low, deadly tone, before Aislin asked what she could do for her sister-in-law and Duchess. Eamonn already began to pace, stepping away from his sister. ``Demon of England. I knew I should have killed him in his cell. I gave warning...now this. That man will know TRUE fear if ever he sees my face again. Pray to whatever god he serves that he mets Adam and not me..I will be his ruin and very essence of what nightmares do stur. Wretched beast...vile dog. MESSENGER.`` He shouted, and before the loyal man could leave, Eamonn drew his sword, clenching it tightly within his gloved hand. ``You. Go tell my General Cormack to take him riders and return to Eohmark. Tell him that the Lord Marshal of Skye wants every son of Eohmark horsed and armed with spear. I will stain the snow red with the blood of that cursed rat and all those who harken to him. GO.`` He snarled, pointing the tip of the sword at him

Kendrew: "By your leave, it is done." The messenger stood still as the Lord Marshall spoke in a voice that was all but God commanding the creation of heaven and earth. On the dark night of winter, the Lord Marshall commanded blood be spilled and it was done. Kendrew pulled the door forward to speed the man's depature, "God speed," he rumbled, having not raised his tone save but to the men of the castle. The messenger, seeming honored, bowed. In taking his leave he had realized there was a command from the Lord Marshall and a blessing from the man they called the Lord Guardian, a court Champion. If he was given leave? There was nothing Kendrew desired more than to see rivers on Skye's virgin snow. He kept his silence for it was not his time to speak. Merely a hand to the hilt of his sword, his eyes on the family before him.

Beathag: "Ah ask of ye as a healer to watch closely those within these halls n' without o' them. Many good men are still 'mending from the Autumn. Ah am with child n' can not afford to be less than strong. I eat, I sleep. If I fail in those things remind me. With the women, command those within the household to be diligiant, and your healers in the halls to be the same. Go no where unaccompanied, nor trust secret passages. As mah sister..only remind me to believe. E'en the most resolute are apt tae forget. Ah will nay bury any child again nor give mah families' enemy the pleasure o' our dispair. He will NOT have us 'pon our knees. And to see tha' Aida's family, her sisters, her nieces, fair well." The ruler spoke as the woman softened the words to the volume of a whisper's place. Beneath the voluminous sleeve was a bracelet of braided hair that she did not wear as often as she had in many months, but did so now for it had the strands of her life on it. Golden strands, browns, blacks. She caressed it idily as the door's opening revealed them look at a hall who's movement was still. If Aodhan were here he would have come to greet themlingered in their arms with a hundred tales to tell. His absence was felt by each person within, acutely by the Admiral's daughter. The child had claimed the boy as her dearest friend, and even now would not be quelled to sleep until finding where Beathag was, she ventured within. Giving a sheepish glance to the Marshall and Physician, Seanna crept over to cling to the legs of Beathag. "Ah know, m'luv. Ye must sleep now, aye? I will come to you soon, just like the risin' sun. Always." A moth to a flame. Seanna and Beathag's relationship defined. The Admiral's daughter was the child, too, of the fallen Ceanfort of Ulster. Perhaps in the small girl she saw herself, her son, and all that could be lost and gained. Sending her gently on her way, her hand came over her heart where not only her Griffin rested, but Aodhan's, "It is strange how one gaes on with their heart outside of them.." For her own was out in the world, who knew where. What did he do, what did he feel? Only when the door was shut did her brow furrow and her face drain of color, yet still she stood (d)

Aislin: Was it wrong that Aislin wanted Eamonn to get involved in this war? No, she did not wish death upon her husband, nor did she wish death upon her men, but Eohmark had every right to be involved and the last small battle, they had not been there to help. She wanted her husband and men involved, because she had faith in them and believed in them. It was what they lived for. Utter silence took over as she listend to her husband's words, hearing the truth in them and proud of him for not storming about the castle and trying to keep some composure over himself. Her chin rose just a bit higher as Bess spoke to her, telling her what she would need and what would happen. With the arrival of the comander's daughter, Aislin looked to the child, glad some comfort could be given even if small. Aislin did not see a need to point out to Bess of her own pregnancy, for the woman knew it well and was not a child. `` Ah already have healers in mind to send with the men at war. Ah shall send them to their task as soon as yer men and Eamonn's leave. `` Looking to her husband, she stared at his serious face. For him, she would obey and listen, more so now. `` Ah shall keep four men with me at all times, including Roac. Though, ah shall keep my eyes open. `` Meaning she would trust no one fully. Never again would she like that.

Roac: Beyond the walls, Cormack was already given the message, on his horse and moving towards Eohmark, no matter how long it would take to make the men ready for battle. By mid day tomorrow, more then half of Eohmark would be riding to meet Eamonn and following him where ever he may lead.

Aislin :Turning back to Bess, all she could do was nod.

Eamonn: Eamonn would do more than spill blood of those that wronged Skye. He would become the butcher of all that would dare offend Skye and strike fear into those that even thought of crime here. No one man had seen the Marshal so spoken, save when anger took him. Right now, his blood was boiling. That composure and resistance to storming out those doors was hard indeed, for the Marshal wanted to do nothing more than perch upon the back of Finbar and go out on a blood hunt. Even as the messenger left, the sword was unsheathed and glinted in the light as he continued to pace, letting Beathag and his wife speak. Eamonn was only half listening, though. His mind was still surging with thoughts of beheading Maubrey and sending his head in a basket back to England. This winter, there would be no break. War. It would be hard, for winter was harsh on a solider, but he had no choice. No one had choice in this matter. Eamonn did pause in his pacing, however, and noted the little girl entering. Steeling his face and wiping it quickly, the Marshal stalked toward the window and gazed out of it hard into the evening light. That bastard. He would pay. He andall those that sworn fealty to him. Green eyes snapped toward his wife. Good. She knew already that Eamonn was not about to let her go to war with him or anyone else. ``You will need to keep more than your eyes open.`` He shot back,: arching a brow, and staring back out of the window. At length, Eamonn turned to Beathag. ``Sister. In the safety and best interest of you and your unborn child, I insist that you stay in Eohmark. No man outside of those living within my Halls know of those secret passages. It is defensible, and there you will be safe. Maubrey knows these halls too well. I will not give him another chance to strike another target. Aislin will be there with you.`` Not to mention, someone would be there with his own two children. Aislin would no doubt be traveling back and forth, if Bess was there with his children, he knew they were in the best of hands, not to mention keep her good company.

Beathag: "Ah am in agreeance with ye, save Maubrey has come for what he has wished, n' there are many in these halls tha' along with m'self, I would not leave. M'ladies in waiting, especially Liliana. She is also with child. Your halls would become a beacon, and your land in turn for turmoil with m'presence there. If Adam thinks it best, then despite these things Ah shall go. As it is now we are no safer here nor there, brother. He may not know your halls, but Ifear it is more than these halls hek nows. It is the land itself. Ah give ye this though. Adam has no mercy, indeed he is short 'pon it these days for many. Kill him, if your hands find him, and by the means I care not.His men, too, are yours n' Kendrews to reckon with, the others, if they find it in them tae join ye. From the higest to the lowest among them. Wot e'ere means ye use. " She did not debate him as she once had, only pointed out thesituation as it stood from the standpoint of herself as a ruler. To flush them from the castle would be to require the movement of several, either to Eohmark or other places. Pregnant women made for a slow journey, and while she could endure such upon horseback or in carriage, others might not fair for she was of hearty stock. Aodhan spent much of his time in the womb upon the back of a horse and he did not even know it. She walked to him, and placed a hand on her shoulder as she took from around her neck her own griffin, leaving Aodhan's in place. Her seals, her standards, somehow had the shape of this image upon it. The silver Griffin Adam gifted her for her birthday on Beltane. Putting this in the palm of his hand, she drew then from her dress a knotwork brooch. Old, for no one called her this now. A hound in white knotworks with black gem eyes. "Ye have m'sanction. As ye lead your men, you lead them with the authority o' a marshall n' the sanction o' a prince." By whatever means now he elected, he was justfied. Closing this up over his hand, she merely whispered, "I know ye will bring him home."

Kendrew: He should not watch their hearts break nor should any rise up to break it. Words and symbols were exchanged as Kendrew turned his head out of respect for the extent of what was being offered. For a second, Aislin within his view, he shared a moment of wordless communication. What was it to survive years of war? Such as they had. They exscaped it, fought to establish in it, and fought to keep it. The intention of the man from Dumfries was to take his leave so as to see to the placement of the watch in his prescribed, careful patterns..only to find himself stopped, when the command from Beathag was issued

Beathag:"Ah release ye from this duty fer now, n' bid you go with Eamonn. Have ye elected men in the stead of those you lost in Scotland?"

Kendrew:To this he would only nod. If he had a choice he would forget the autumn for all but the marriage to his bride. "Thank you."

Beathag:"Aye...."

Kendrew With the command issued, it seemed some measure of peace ascended, as if all would be right. Was it then the body thought itself free of rigorous need? "Beathag...." He spoke in Gaelic for her attention, and saw he was beginning to lose it as the color of her face became the ashes in a cold hearth.. Looking to Eamonn, he began to step forward himself so that one of them would be faster. it had not happened yet..but even he knew it was inevitable. Beat against a tree with wind and rain, and even the oldest oaks lose their roots and fall (d)

Aislin: Aislin did not take offense to her husband's sharp tone, for she knew what it meant. He wanted her to be more then just careful; she needed to be alert as well. There would be no words from Aislin now, only the mere patience as she listened to everyone speak. What happened between Ken:drew and Bess, was noted, but Aislin said nothing more. It was as she watched, that things changed and she saw her sister turn from a strong woman, to a weak one. Moving closer, Aislin was already picking up her skirts to head towards Bess, Aislin was simply farther away.

Eamonn: And Eamonn frowned deeply. While he would offer any who wished to take refuge in his hall admittance, even Liliana, Beathag was still in danger. How did the Duchess know that Maubrey would not be so bold as to send a little party to the castle and attempt to kill Bess. Eamonn did not want that. He did not want to bury his sister for a stupid move. Eamonn turned to his sister now, fully, and arched a brow when she neared him. Eyes traveled to her hand as she took of her seal and passed it to him. Taking them with care, the brooch was placed in the leather pouch on his belt for safe keeping and to be worn later, while the necklace was taken and pulled on quickly. Still, her gracious grant did not move the anger from his face. Hazel eyes turned back to his sister, who was growing paler and paler. ``Bess. How many times have I predicted things, and they happened? I told you to kill Maubrey. He lives, and now causes more trouble. I say things not for the sake of spouting hot air.`` he growled out, but somehow, kept his tone level. ``There is nothing stopping Maubrey from growing MORE bold and attempting to assassinate YOU. I do not want bury my sister because she was too proud to leave for her own safety. Maubery does not know Eohmark. You would have better sanction there than--`` Eamonn frowned when he saw her go pale, and sway. ``Bess?`` And then, her knees buckled under the pressure she had suffered with such horrid news. Eamonn was quick, and though Kendrew and his wife stepped forward, Eamonn wrapped his arms around his sister, catching her and holding her close to his chest. The bumping hurt, for it put pressure on his bandaged wound, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. With one arm wrapped around his sister's back, the other curled under her legs and behind the knee, picking her up with ease. ``..Damn it Bess...`` He sighed, and already knowing the castle, he headed for her chambers, motioning for his wife and Kendrew to follow. ``Kendrew. I want you to station guards outside her chambers and within. Whatever that bastard my do, he will not succeed in any attempt to touch my sister because she is too damn stubborn to listen to me.`` He said over his shoulder, before using his booted foot to kick open her chamber doors, which sent the wooden door backward to hit the stone wall a bit rough. Marching over to her bed, Eamonn carefully laid her down, proof that even the tough and hardened warrior had some amount of gentility

Beathag: "Eamonn..." The occurrence she fought to prevent happened, if only to will the body release the strain it took to remain erect. Her fear of falling was as much for the child inside of her as it was for the horror it could create. No one could stand to see the mighty among them made low. Before she could prevent herself from going down, her legs and body were supported to be held aloft by the giant horsemen. "Eamonn..I.." Cognative action was not lost. Shespoke, but it took effort. She saw, but it was blurred. Every bit of strain was centered on the pain shooting through her neck, pounding in her skull. The paths of the castle were engrained in his mind. He went to her chambers, those traditionally given a lady of the castle for it was not often that the situation of a shared bed so later in life occurred. The Lord's Chamber, where she stayed with Adam, was not a place they kept. Knowing that was where Aodhan had been taken proved too much, and if such was where Aida had drawn her last breath in defense of the child, that too, was too much to bare. So they passed to the East wing with its images of family members, ancestors, and people from another time and place. Under the image of the Lady Harper, Beathag's mother. Beneath horses to denote the man who gave her life, ships for the other that reared her. Images of brothers, sisters, of Adam's mother, the woman who would have been the true heir had she lived. By people that all died or mourned because of Maubrey. Stained glass pictures of the brooch of skye, the symbol of Adam's reign. Of so many things that could never be said or that were thought lost. Drawing in to herself she could only catch hold of his sleeve and look at him for a time. Leaving speech be for a time she looked to Kendrew as he looked to Eamonn.

Kendrew: "It is already done, there be no room left unguarded at the doors or within it. Mah best knights are with her, and your brother in law." The knighthood he had seen to, when it was received, was made rigourous. To receive such an honor and be commended to the Order was to commend every breath, every bone, to the flesh and stone. To the bedrock of the country. There were those among the youngest men that said between the Lord Marshall, the Lord General, and the Lord Guardian that all question would be erased and all weakness become but a fable. "Listen to him. As you have been, and m'self as you have done. None will see you or Adam for anything but lions among men, I promise." Watching her brow smooth out , the head turned, even if she did not fully sleep of yet. "She will sleep. I can not say the same for Adam." Adam would do what Beathag could right not, with a sword in hand he would rage a holy terror as each hour went on. "Lord Marhsall, Lady Physician, will you floow me a moment. There is something I need show you." (d)

Aislin: Asilin was glad Eamonn had gotten his sister before she hurt herself and fell upon the stone floor. Looking to the doors, she made sure they were closed. There was no need for others to know what was going on. Word that the duchess was having emotional or physical problems did not need to reach the people. As her husband gathered their sister in his arms, she followed in towe, making sure that no one would see them or giving an excuse had anyone done so. Once Bess was laid down, Aislin picked up her skirts and knelt on the bed, checking over Bess to make sure she was ok. Everything from touching her stomach gently to leaning over her chest and listening to her breathing. She was simplytired and in need of rest, as well as some good food. As she said, she was eating for the child more then herself. Leaning up, she looked to Kendrew and when he asked them to follow, Aislin would.

Eamonn: Eamonn had been in and out of this castle more than enough times to know how to navigate the castle. Eamonn's heart went out to his sister...but how much could have been avoided had people listened to him? Why, when most if not all of what he spoke of ended up happening, did people continue not to heed his warnings? Was he speaking all for nought? Was he caring and saying too much? Eamonn did not know at this point, and did not bother to say any more, his sister was already under much pressure, and he was not about to add to it any more. Once Bess was safely in the bed, Eamonn turned to Kendrew, and arched a brow. Green eyes passed to his wife for a moment, looking to her for a moment as she checked over Beathag. In the hands of his wife...there was no safer place to be. She had brought him back from death's vice so many times. It seemed there was nothing the woman could not do. Turning back to Kendrew, he nodded, and approached the knight. ``What is it, Kendrew?``

Kendrew: "This. On tha' matter of passages." His accent did not interfere with how he spoke. Always clear to understand, always concise, he was quick to pull open a handle to what seemed nothing but a piece of the tapestry. In it was a room of organized papers, books, all of which were charts or diagrams of some sort. It was no mystery of the Duchess' intense love for maps of the sea, but these seemed to have been archives of a different sort. The diagrams were decorated in the fashion of borders as was common for the period. Lettering that seemed more art than writing. "Turas Lan, n' a great much of the mountains and forests around her have passages. There is a place in the city they be callin' the Under-dark. Now, districts of unsavory sort, but, it is closest to the low points of Turas Lan..the foundation stones. The lowest streets, if one knows where they gae, lead toward passages ways tha' gae under the city, network tae any place ye'd wish to go. The Halls, the Walls, the castle. I've pulled these charts with Dmitri, as he be weapon's master, sae they can be studied for defense n' fortifyin', to look at them is another thing tha' has not been used in many, many years. Built fer attacks as well as escapes. See here, " He showed him on a chart imparticular the courtyard, and then further below in the city, where people might go out the gate to ride to the snow on attack as he planned. "Ah'm sure they are hidin' in the under-dark, some of these men...probably lost as the they tried tae escape..and this...is a way..through the mountains themselves, out tae a woods. Now..in the patrols they have found wot they believe tae be enemy men in those woods. Use the tunnels, ye will appear behind them..and they will ne'e rknow you are there. Maubrey is nay tha' damn good were forgotten passages. Ah've had them cleared. N' the maps made ready for you, should ye wish tae take them." He rolled up that map imparticular and began to slide it into the leather tube, it was an original, but such things could be spared. "She doesn't know tha' I am aware of this room. She sits in it often, it was her mother's library here, n' it seemed tha' aside from horses, yer brother had an afinity fer transcribin' charts. Tis all." He endedas that was a long lot to say, but it needed to be said. If it gave Eamonn an advantage, well he did not care who's sanctity it violated or how one would feel regarding the matter. Enough men had been butchered in Scotland at the hands of these situations than he had any more stomach to learn of. (d)

Aislin: Aisling would take them for they had uses. Should anything happen, it was better to know the city like any other and of course beyond. Would they use this for war? She was trying to follow what Kendrew said, to listen closely before she noted that the maps were for eamonn, more then herself. Would he use them? `` Would Maubrey know about this...does he know about all of this? If so, then it would not make for very good information.``

Eamonn: When the matter of a passage had been made the center of attention, passages that bore their dear little Aodhan away, Eamonn frowned, but was quickly following the man's heels. Following the veteran knight, Eamonn rested one hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes remembered well the path they took, the passage that was unknown to many, but known by a few. Did Maubrey? Perhaps long ago, but some things could be forgotten with time. While books and literature were of little use to him, maps were an entirely different matter, one that he could grasp. Eyes did look over the maps that Kendrew pulled out and began to explain age old passages for escape and attack. Interesting. Eamonn frowned
a bit. ``It is unclear how many of these passages Maubrey knows about...but I will not give him the chance to find out any more.`` Eamonn siad, and grabbing a few of the other maps about, he began to roll them up. ``We take all these maps, Kendrew, and we must hide them well. You know this castle better than I could ever. Keep these maps safe. If Maubrey put to use some of these passages, he could have gotten very far. But, we will flush the damned fox from his hole. Whether he knows about it or not, Aislin, we now know, and will take all cautions to make sure he will have no means to remember.`` Eamonn replied, turning to Kendrew. ``We will put these maps to use. Keep them secret and safe, friend. Make sure the Duchess continues to not know just how much information you are accessible to and aware of. For now. Chose your men carefully. Maubrey has many spies. There is something rotten in the Isle of Skye.`` Eamonn stated stiffly, handing more maps to him.

Kendrew: "Aye. All tha' know are m'self, the weapon's master, and now you. Your will be done." The maps were to be hidden in alcoves that went even beyond his leige's understanding. Adam, by nature, knew more of the passages than even his wife did, though she had studied many. In following his sovereign and since the defense of the court members was his aim, he studied further. At thirty-nine now, the knight had no qualms with listening to a man who was younger than he. Eamonn was well seasoned and determined, dedicated to every cause. Admittedly, as any with Kendrew would follow him to battle, so would he follow Eamonn with his whole heart unto death itself. "Ah'll hide them at once. " Standing erect, he tucked the articles under his arm and said, "This eve is just after the dawn o' m' thirty-ninth year o' life," It was his birthday, and little was said of it. In fact, nothing was. "N' were tha' I live another thirty n' nine more, M'lord, to follow you." Strands of silver peppered his colored hair, pulled back from his eyes. For his age he was still spry, quick, and deadly. His footfalls made no sound, stepping so as not to rouse the sleeping Duchess (d)

[strongjustice]

The Escape - Part 3

William looked at the boy with an odd expression… Skye was a land of Celts long before time could be measured by the sun and stars… a mixture of ancients from all of Europe… and this boy of darkened skin could be heralded as a Celt? How could he be the grandson? For his sons were – the oldest, dead... and the youngest in London.

Pondering the information this lad gave made William consider the alternatives. He had only heard rumors of his eldest son’s death… no body… no lingerings of tales after his adventures in the mountains of Aosta. Was Adam truly dead? Could it be? William shook his head. “If what you say is true boy, then I am truly yer Grandfather.” William smirked in an evil manner.

If this was true, then God has placed the land of Skye into his very hand. Would Adam Aberdeen… Maubrey… be willing to offer the reign for the boy? Or would he sell the boy for the title… Lord of the Isles? A course hand stroked the white beard as he considered alternatives.

Meanwhile, Adam and four Black Talons combed the tunnel passages… In the past year, Adam had wandered these tunnels, studying the maps left behind by his grandfather and mother...“This way M’Lord…” the tracker called out… the party of five was hot on the trail of the Lord’s son and his captors… Adam walked quickly... the tracker used mainly to ensure the men took to the right tunnel. Just as the hunting party exited the tunnel and stood before a wood… “The tracks will be better now in the snow…” the Talon tracker said. “Gae back thru the tunnel… get horses and more men… we shall continue alone… our trail will bae clear…” Adam commanded with cold overtone. “NAEW… As Ah command…” was his final words to the sort of argument against his continuing… his men fearing for what possibly lay ahead.

Adam and three men continued, all without winter overcoats, trudging thru the snow, their own safety not considered, for each moment his son got farther and farther away. The Talon did as ordered and headed quickly back thru the tunnels; for he knew it would be well after dark before he could get back, alert some men, gather horses and winter clothing, and return to rendezvous with his liege.

Into the darkness they tread… slow, methodical, the four men made their way where the trio had been. Even at night, the cold seem to dissipate as Adam trudged forward… worry for his son... hate for his Father raged within…

To the village, where evil had been… soldiers were sent by the watch commander to look for the missing patrol… As Adam and the three Talon emerged into the village, they were met with swords as the soldiers protected the area... until they realized who had come upon them. The Commander of the patrol approached Adam… “M’Lord Aberdeen… one patrol did not report in… and we came and found them massacred… swords and horses missing… The villagers reported a man, woman and boy…” Adam cut him off… “I need a horse… and a coat for me and my men...” then another argument ensued, the Commander trying to persuade their Lordship to refrain…. “Does ev'ry soldier balk at mae commands?” Adam barked, waving his sword like an extra appendage… The men relinquished to his commands and off rode the Gryphon and his three Talons…[/font][/color]

Two days later… William, Anwen, and Aodhan had made the Scottish coast. Anwen, in her many days without William during his incarceration, had managed to coordinate and post Maubrey soldiers in strategic places and supplied them with a means to resupply. Her logistic network would now be tested as the trio would make their way to Glasgow, and the safety and sanctuary of William’s stronghold.

Anwen would always ride ahead to rendezvous points… men would emerge from their igloo style sanctuaries and prepare them for the next leg of the journey.

Her network stations had been established for two main reason… one as communication between Skye and Glasgow… and to aid her in getting her beloved husband and Lord out of a Skye prison and back home.

In the hut, William motioned for her to cuddle next to him… her on one side, the boy on the other. The men covered them in piles of furs. He had not harmed the boy one iota… for he was an innocent source of information… his grandson… and best of all… a possible ransom…

[Anwen of Connacht]

Anwen while separated from William had made good use of that time establishing check points so to speak for the 'departure' from Scotland. Maubrey soldiers lined their route with supplies and horses and they traveled, though the boy was a surprise to have with them.

Riding ahead she received information and gave commands as only she could as the Lady Maubrey and personal guard to the Lord Maubrey. They arrived at a small encampment to rest for the night... they entered the shelter tired and hungry. She cuddled was cuddles with William with the boy on his other side.. his grandson?? Hmmm that sounded promising... she smirked to herself.

They were all beneath piles of furs and she once more was wearing her black and red leathers... twin swords beside her. She was grateful to be rid of those dresses and gowns for more practical attire, for a fight in a dress would only slow her down. William and the boy had long fallen asleep and she remained awake and restless. She placed a soft kiss to her husbands cheek and rose from the warmth of his body to speak with their men and see if word had arrived about the ship they would take home.

Jonathan a young guard gave her a nod as she came from the hut to stand in the chilled brisk night wind. Short red hair blew and she turned her face to the sky as if greeting the winter air as a friend.

In that moment a thought flickered and started to come to life of another time and place. It was cold and snow covered the ground... she was standing on a knoll face turned heavenward to let the flakes touch her skin and melt. She was draped in furs and music unlike any she could remember hearing sounded in the night " Eryn... dubashk hernyae ingruti" it was a woman's voice soft and angelic, yet powerful and strong. The language sounded strange to her ears now but yet she knew what it meant "Eryn...come... celebrate with us" she whispered... but who was Eryn?? Her stomach fluttered as if trying to tell her somehing and then it was gone. Jonathan had seen the look on her face as he approached " MLady?" he said softly not really wanting to intrude but he was concerned. " Aye, Jonathan?" she met his eyes hers looked as if she were a million miles away.
"Is everything alright Lady?" he canted his head at her. " Aye... all... is fine... I am going for a walk. Double the guard and keep and eye out." with that said she turned and left.

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

The Messenger Loses His Head

Adam and the three Talons followed the trail until they arrived at the coast of Skye. Standing upon the beach looking east toward Scotland, Adam cursed… he knew William had this planned very well… and he had made off with his only son. Looking out over the channel, he swore upon the wind that he would kill his Father for taking him…

Adam and the men began to ride back, when met upon the rode by a group of men mounted and ready for battle… “He ‘as made off wit mae son… we shall return tae Turas Lan and inform his Mother…” Looking to one of his Black Talons… “Ride south tae Sleat then tae Minginish and on tae Strathaird … warn the Nobles that Skye is at war again… mae orders are tae kill any Ainglish soldiers upon Skye lands… spare nae mercy… Dunnae leave Griffin territory without orders from mae directly...” then he looks to the others… “We return tae Turas Lan…” then the entire group rode hard back to the capital city…

When Adam returned to Turas Lan, he found that the walled city had already been preparing for war, reinforcing the guards upon the walls, fortifying the parapets with weapons, rocks and missiles. Eamonn, Maashe, Kendrew, and Balian wasted no time enforcing the Duchess’ orders.

The Gryphon Castle was a flurry of soldiers, servants, and household preparing for a long winter with the possibility of besiegement… Adam’s nerves had gone cold… the fear of death eluded him once more… the fear of Aodhan’s death strained his heart. He now paced about the library like a caged tiger… He could tell that Bess knew of what had happened and awaited her wrath for him trailing after in the cold. Soon he was summoned to the Council Chambers. A messenger from William had arrived.

Hurriedly, he entered the chambers and sat upon the elevated chair. As the guards entered, forcing two messengers to their knees before Adam. “MiLord Aberdeen… we beseech yer fairness and allow us to sound a message from Lord Maubrey…” Adam grit his teeth… “Speak…”

“MiLord Maubrey says that he knows you are aware he now had yer son… and yu shall soon declare war upon him and his…” the two men glanced upward for a view of an expression… “Lord Maubrey wishes to extend his best wishes and know yer son has not been harmed…. And that no grandfather wishes to harm his grandson…”

Adam’s expression changed… so many questions… so many wishes… “Gae on…” The man continued… “Lord Maubrey wishes you to know… he does not wish to harm his grandson, but if the Gryphon moves upon Glasgow… he shall be forced to…” Adam bit his lip with internal rage. “If we do not return, Lord Maubrey shall take that as yer answer and shall send yu pieces of the boy every month…” That was it… Adam stood quickly and was upon the man before they realized what was happening…

His hand was filled with the man’s hair, and bent the head back… a dagger at the man’s throat. “Kill me and yu kill yer grandson…” the man boasted. It was that very moment that Adam sliced the man’s throat from ear to ear, cutting a deep as his strength would allow… then slammed him down upon the stone in pure rage… the other man cowered as Adam turned to him…

“Ah shall allow yae tae live… but knaew this and give mae Father my very words… lose nothing in translation…” then Adam squatted before the man… “Yae tell me Father… Ah bae the son… of his loins… and just as he, Ah am willing tae kill faer wot Ah want…” his sea green eyes were pale and evil-looking… “Ah want mae son back… alive… unharmed… or there shall nae bae a place upon this earth, that a Maubrey nary anyone who sides wit him shall live… Ah’ll ravage this earth from one sea tae another…” then Adam took the man’s chin in his hand and shook it… “Yae shall take these words… as well as yaer cohort… tae Maubrey. Mae son… or the very lives all yae live shall diminish from the earth…” Adam stands and looks to the guard, while pointing to the dead man… “Bag the head… burn the body…”

Then Adam turns and walks to the corridor… and in a loud boisterous baritone voice… “Summon my wife… my Generals and my Admirals…!!!!” [/font][/color]

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Summons - I.

Beathag knew many things. She knew that her son was gone, and that her husband's absence meant that he followed in the steps of evil. In the stone silence of Griffin Castle, she became as the firmament base. Rigid substance that didn't bow before the elements like a serf to a master. Instead, she kept the household together by overseeing the necessary tasks that kept a network of supplies, messangers, and news between the outside world and the place where the royalty resided. "No," she woud say when talk of delay for other decrees, "You will gae. Do as your Duke decreed you. What is ye duty?" A messanger sent to the other side of the province, who wished to search with his duke. A man, who in given orders by the Weapon's Master, breathed out his worry of leaving the household defenseless. The men found that this woman, who had fought as they once had, now did so in a way that made her admirable among her fair sex. In the absence of her husband, his will was her will. All that he prepared she built on with expectation that when he returned to see it, the work would be complete.

In all the things that she knew, the most keen piece of knowledge was sequestered in the place where pain becomes frozen. It was overpowered by the necessity to live, yet at the same time the sickening bile it produced seemed to churn with the same speed that powered the blood. This thing kept her alive. It fashioned a living statue and broke a heart all at once.

Aodhan was not with her, and a piece of her was dying each hour for it. A shade black draped over the eyes while women arrayed her in the same. A sword's glint, a feral sheen emcompassed the gold that came next. It was a requisite for all to appear as their station demanded, with all of the strength a posistion belied. When Adam returned he would not see a mother strewn across the bed of her children, or hear a harpy raging. He would see the calm, yet fierce eye at the center of a storm.

"Why are ye as such, madam? Should you not be resting or somewhere away from this talk ...you do so much and have not yet shed tear, and for this some worry." She stopped to consider an answer that the girl of thirteen would be best to understand. Presenting her the chance to tie an eyelet at her wrist shut, a white hand went out to a younger, softer one. "Ye come from a reasonable place, to serve, yes, tae learn to keep a noble house. Of all the lessons tae give ye now, I give you this: A woman is the heart o' her home, the true fire, the hearth. Goes she cold n' broken the home falls with it. Give not your husband's enemeies or those who vye to be jealous of yerself reason to cast stones or bring ye to your knees. Do you understand?"

The youth nodded her head as the ribbon was made secure. "You will give nay one reason to speak of you in that none can speak ill of your husband and family." When the Duchess nodded her head she felt an inward sense of pride. Smiling, she turned it away for fear so joyous an expression was a sin in showing her self pride. "Look to me with that face," she ordered, stern, "Beyond the door ye will turn it down as I pass, but if I should look to you look me always in the eye 'pon asked."

"My women shall have the hearts of lions, and the baring of old days. And if they ask of me, tell them a Duke deserves his Duchess as is fit. More so, the descendants of kings deserves the queen among women."

"Are ye to be a queen?"

"Of the House of Aberdeen, I am. Of a good heart, I always have been. Among my people, tha' is for you to decide. Some things needn't be made out tae be real. Mah son is a Prince, he shall have the lands o' a prince. My husband is as my King. He shall have the home of a king."

This would be how the conduct of the White Lady of the West would be remembered by a thirteen year old girl. One day, she vowed, when she was given to marriage she would model herself in the ways of the women she had seen here, and in times of peril and strength, would stand as tall as the giantess that diminished in her sights down the long corridors. The Duke was home, and there need be no herald loud enough to tell her what her eyes had seen and her ears heard of horses among the courtyard. The Generals and Admirals would have to come from their places of work to appear while she would only progress down the halls. What a long walk it was. Men that saluted, bowed, and women who lowered themselves. Ladies-in-Waiting apeared to flank her but to her trusted sisters she would say, "Let me tae m'lords side on m'own feet. They have nay faultered yet, they will not do so now."

Past the place of murder. Past the empty beds. Beyond the last sight of him and where a last breath was taken. Past it all with mournful eyes and sympathetic faces she advanced like each creature of myth or legend she had ever been associated with. Griffins, hounds, hawks, and changelings. She moved with the grace of a woman beyond this world but with a soul anchored to the earth as if to know all that it said or did. As the doors opened to give her unto Adam the men at his side were so shocked to see her emerge so suddenly that they delayed to bow. Walking forward regardless of their eyes, it was to Adam she went. Wearing the colors of his nation, his house, and their love she climbed a pair of stairs to the final destination. In the company of stunned men it was she who remembered to lower herself with downturned eyes before rising. Only then did they bow.

They would remember the strength, humility, and reverance that shown on her now and not the despair that tore at the moorings of her life. That would be for no one, save the chosen. Save Adam.

"Ye summoned m'lord n' husband. What is your will?"

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

The King's Way, Part I

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

On a winter's day, Kendrew and Lucius practiced the craft of swordsmanship in the Griffin Courtyard. On talk of skill and bonding, the elder knight and younger squire found bridges to walk between one life and the other. There were those that told Kendrew that Lucius, son of Bolverk, was too old to be shaped the way the young boy-child among them could be. He was too old, they said, to ingest the history, skill, rules, and faith that bred the choice knights of the state. Disbelieving this, he claimed that what they saw as fault in him was advantage he would use to give the young man his dreams, for he owed the boy his life. On Lucius' part, his dreams were tempered with the knowledge of experience. The fairy-fable of honor in battle was deconstructed for him in Dumfrieshire. He, along with Sir Liam, had been taken captive by the English where in his knight breathed his last. In his head of dreams also lived history and a store of knowledge that no boy could have unless he became the young man Lucius already was. To have this in common was to have a bond of battle shared. To have been paired at the sea, the edge of the land, was to have known God in the same place.

They were paired together to fufill a wish in one another, and for Kendrew, it was to bring a youth to his dream. Yodric had died in Dumfries, killed, and already weighed down from Windmill Hill his death only released him to the mercy of God's heaven. He mourned the death of Yodric as hard, as privately as he mourned the death of his own brother, Roric. No man stayed long at his side and he wondered if his lot was to be solitary in his duty. Battle-brethren he had, but one that stood by him each day? To talk with, to share the dark things of his heart and unburden or jest about the lot of the mind on each day he had not. Each person in service to the throne paid their price and penance.

His was to endure what he set upon himself years ago, and now found burdensome. Solitude in duty.

Lucius changed this for him. In the youth of eighteen he saw a capable, skilled, and able young man. For the youth, he saw an honor and wisdom, a valor he wished to aspire to be all means in his reach. Sharing stories, they would overhear the men talk of what it meant to be in service these recent days. Patrols were being masquered in the woods, and it came to pass that they were being killed in the same passages they were meant to guard as well.

Sometimes, the only way to see that everything around you stays upright is to go to where the foundation is set. Sometimes, the only way to ensure the works of many is to be alone in secret. Now that they were together in their efforts, and unalone, the work would begin.

Kendrew and Lucius would cut off the pockets of enemy men in the passages of the castle and under the city, inparticular, the mysterious King's Way, a chain link of tunnels that carried to places that the Duke recalled and time forgot.

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

Lucius: Lucius wished that he could cast out the bad thoughts that still haunted his dreams, the first he killed, seeing death so closely. But, as the weeks went on, they were becoming less and less frequent. Thank God. They kept him up in the night, awarded him little sleep. As Lucius moved and watched his knight, his ears were keen and in tune to what the man was saying, soaking up what information the man might give him. How contrary his words were, for Kendrew was encouraging Lucius to think for himself, opposed to being the blind servant and loyal squire that did as his knight asked without question. Lucius noticed it, and it made a small smile tug the corners of his mouth upward, a swell a mild pride growing in his chest. Truly, he had the best knight to serve..the best and most understanding. ``Then, my Lord, I shall aspire to be your honoured.`` He commented quickly, before turning his focus back to Kendrew. His mind was perhaps thinking too fast, already the wheels working, for Lucius over stepped himself, and when Kendrew took a swipe at his legs, he avoided the blow, but overstepped himself and tripped, falling backward and landing squarely on his rear. Lucius winced, gripping the sword tightly still and looking up to Kendrew, ready to defend himself now that he was on the ground, much like he had when at Dumfrieshire. At the mention of the spear, Lucius arched a brow. ``Much like the joust? Sir Liam was in the midst of teaching me lance and horse...and though I could strike and deliver a blow hard enough to break the lance..the wooden dummy managed to unhorse me..`` Lucius admitted. ``But spears? As my ancestors did? Oh, I never thought such means lost their merits...I remain your most eager pupil, my Lord.``

Kendrew: "The chargin' lance is what many a 'knight does, n' the reason most aspired to it at one time. The joust, n' to be used in the front charge. The dummy unseated me many times, too, vial thing that." He allowed himself a smile as he in sincerity lowered his sword tip to the ground and offered his squire a hand to aid him in returning to his feet. "I am glad, in this. Mightily. Aye, spears m'eager pupil." The man from Dumfrieshire nodded and when Lucius could stand again, he continued, "Ye have seen the court, aye. Know each man began his fortunes in a different way than you or the other squires have now. Though knighted, ye will never see General Aziem 'pon the back of a horse N' the Lord Marshall will nay gae charging down the lists either. The Weapon's Master, Sir Zuban, fights with two swords at once. Sir and Dame Rayven are Rangers, and so it goes. We are as we are, each with unique talents n' ability. I was taught by m'father what he knew. N' he knew pikes, spears, pole arms, staffs. We were men of the land n' he was but a yeomen. By the end o' his time, he was a respected man-at-arms, a leader of his own group of men. He was very lucky tae have acquired two horses for battle in his life, the first a rouncy he purchased, nourished, n' tha' served him well many years n' the second was a gift from a knight whom respected him, called him friend. Some say it takes a crazed man or a man who feels nothin' to be always at the front of the charge, on foot, no less. While men are crushing against her pike, the weight of it is crushing ye. Ye get run o'er, tromped on, and all matter of shyte when ye are on your feet." He would not use them now, but did take it upon himself to show him. "In his father's, father's time, they still had a few spearmen in king's service." From the sparring ring, Kendrew looked over the people at their tasks as he walked to another side of the courtyard to a building similiar to a stable or a shed, used for an armory of weapons that could be reached for in practice or in the necessity of instant need. Taking it down, he showed him how the wood was the size nearing the end of the five feet measures and towards the sixth. Fixed on it now was what his father called the teeth, simply a pole arm in a crested shape with two sharp ends. There was also heads to be fixed to it, axes, tips of varying degrees. "A pike is the length o' two men, or two men and half. Ah can carry tha' o'e rm'shoulder, put it forward, wield it. When I was a boy, m'service began when decided tae become just a messenger on the field n' off. Was nay e'en a squire, just tha' messenger. Outside of Andrews there a wood, n' in tha' wood the calverymen by foot were cornered by surprise. Had only the broken part o' a banner stick tae defend m'self with, but tha' was how one o' the mounted men found me, n' kept me beside him there after for my father when he could not, for his time was done n' he stayed with m'mother. They knew son I was on tha' alone I was told. I saw many battles there after, messenger, banner carrier, n' after the battle o' bannockburn the King made a knight of me. But I had no horse ye see, nor wot many had. The earth under m'feet,and this. Did ye Liam 'er mention how there was a man among the ranks who wore a shield on his back often? Carried with him it, a sword, and spear if no pike was with him, how he could ride, but seemed tae e'en prefer bein on his feet?"


Lucius: The joust. Was there a thing more honourable in combat outside of war? To hold the spear and lance firmly, charging toward your foe with aim to unseat him and be the victor. One day...he would sit upon the back of Valerius, his stallion, charging gloriously across the field...he was determined to become the very thing that stories wrote of, not for self glory, but what he could do with such a title..those he could protect and not be thought less of..to make a name for himself in a way that his father would be proud of. Kendrew's smile made his own grow a bit more, and the offered hand was taken, letting Kendrew help him up to his feet. Once he was standing, the sword was held at his side, and Lucius listened to his mentor with eager ears as he spoke of the life of a footman, his own story. If only he had a pen and parchement...to write down and add Kendrew's life to the chronology of Skye's heroes. At the his side, and Lucius listened to his mentor with eager ears as he spoke of the life of a footman, his own story. If only he had a pen and parchement...to write down and add Kendrew's life to the chronology of Skye's heroes. At the mention of running and being trampled, his eyes widened a bit. He remembered Valerius running over a few men..though whether they lived or died he knew not. Now on his feet, Lucius glanced toward the people about, still carrying out their own tasks to completely, before Lucius followed behind his knight. Dark eyes stared as the pike was pulled down, and the squire listened. During the battle of Dumfrieshire, he had been knocked off his own horse, and to his great surprise and relief, Valerius was here..back in Skye. But he too had been forced to fight upon his feet and not from the back of his horse. ``He made some mention of it in his discussion of men and their choice of arms...but he did not go into great details..but now, I can see that such a man was you.`` He said, turning his eyes from the pike and back to Kendrew. ``I saw many weapons likes these..in the building that I had been held in. I did not have much time to stop and look at the weapons, but..the English had some like these...halberds as well..weapons I have never seen before. Perhaps they were...effects..of others that had been captured as well...though suffered the same fate as my Lord...`` Aand his voice trailed off a bit at the painful memory. He had not the time to properly look upon all the weapons there, and the thought that they could be once personal property of fallen comrades...well it sent a cold chill down his spine. Sighing, lips pressed together. ``Forgive me. It is still rather vivid in my mind.`` Lucius apologized

Kendrew: "Aye. They had those things, and armed peasents. Do nay apologize for it," Kendrew saw the eyes darken, heard the voice change as Lucius slipped off to a place where memory was prominent. "Tha' was nay a battle with any honor in it, we were sent to a massacre. They knew I would nay leave the place of my birth without my kin, and tha' others would nay let the innocent be killed. We did not suppress an uprisin' sae much as line up like rats to be killed." He stood the pike upright, a short pike, he called it, for he could lean against it. A true pike would have gone many lengths over his shoulder, but this harkened at once to the uses of the pikes common to them now and a man who might have stood on Hadrian's wall as a legionaire. "No honor. No merit. No mercy, n' it as this tha' at times being a knight has little tae do with our chivalry and more with the fiercness of our metal. But do nay lose your chilvary, tha' knowledge you have of olen ways, of honor. It is what makes you a knight, and them no more than devils n' savages in armor. It is hard to remain upright..after a place like that. I have seen twenty-nine years of battles, n' skirmish, n' peacetime and war, and of that twenty nine years..it is Dumfries that has kept me awake at night, that I will not tell my wife for fear it will hurt her heart.It flashes before m'eyes too."He had not spoke of this with any other man in length nor women. In fact it was known he was a rather self-keeping man, but in this they too had a common ground of seeing the good men of Skye killed in a way no man should die, betrayed all of them by a king who strove to unite them once. "N' the jails they kept me in, and what they did to my men..but..." As if to bid it away he shook his head, and went on, handing it to him to investigate himself. "N' you will find your own way, somethin, like those you admire, that will set you apart from all others." (d)

Lucius: A massacre it was indeed. Many people died that fateful day...too many. Lucius did not want to slip off to that place in memory, for that was a foul recollection, one that chilled him to the very core. Lucius never knew fear and pain on that level. But Kendrew was right..there was no uprising, it was a trap that many men fell into and perished. Sir Liam, and nearly he. Had Lucius not escaped, he would have been among the dead, no doubt. But...there was honour..even the smallest portion of it. They were all willing to go to help others..surely that had honour within it, right? Eyes shifted from Kendrew to the pike that was in his hands, before Kendrew passed it to him. For now, Lucius was silent as he listened to Kendrew voice his own similar worries of what happened at Dumfrieshire. So, then, Lucius was not the only one haunted by such a bloody day. That was comforting to know. Taking a deep breath, dark brown eyes turned to Kendrew once more as gloved hands gripped the pike strongly, firmly in his hands. ``I know what it is like..to be held..though..I was not within bars..locked in the highest tower of the home the English had been using as their base. Never...have I known fear and pain such as that..and even now..that battle and detainment..it haunts me..`` He whispered, looking down for a moment. ``I can only hope..my Lord..that I can be as noble a knight as you..as stories and tales of old do depict..`` He answered, honestly, before dark eyes turned to Kendrew

A Noble Puzzle: The smallest portion of honor to him went unspoken as he clung to his resolve with a claw-like grip of the spirit; a man was no less of a man for needing to believe in his causes when smoke, fire, and blood cover the land that he loves. "Aye,that you do. You will remember it, but it will not become you. Stronger ye are, for not letting it ruin what you hold. Those stories, tha' faith. I pray, Lucius, tha' I will live the in the days to call you Sir, n' tha you will stand with me 'pon equals ground." A small smile etched the passive slate of his face. Putting a gloved hand against the young man's shoulder, he nodded as the glint of light on the polearm seemed to seal the agreeance between them. "There will be such a day, and we shall celebrate it readily..." Outside of the small courtyard armory, men began to quicken their steps. Moving east and west, his name was among those being called. "Matters to attend. Many of them there are now.." More in the winter to haunt his dreams - a nightmare shared - what if the fall of their world came? "Who calls me?" The expectation for it to be a boy or adolescent messenger was not unfounded because the castle, if not the country as a whole, had a strong system of fosterage in every aspect, every craft. Instead, he was confronted by one of the two higest messangers within the court. "News M'lord, of the searches..one of the patrols did not return an eve or so hence, like the last, the patrol was killed.." Old horror became new rage as he clenched his gloved hand shut, putting it to the opened palm of another, as if to crush the essence of the responsible. "Members of the Order, sir, died with members of the mounted watch. The patrols combined in the interest of safety while searching for Lord Aodhan, their bodies were discovered in the low ditches of Fieldren Field." He nodded his head and the messsanger left. As men were forming into ranks, some listened to particular commanders, while others already knew where to be placed. "Their goin' to increase the number in patrols, and with what I do not know." The flat, open palm connected with the lintle post of the door, leaving a crack where the heel of his hand had slammed in to it, "We are strained as it is." He turned to Lucius, and while some knights would have left their squires alone, he bid he come with him. "Come. We will learn nothin' here." (d)

Lucius: It almost had ruined him. It nearly became his bane. Such memories were hard to get rid of..to see the dying face of a man you had looked up to and held in the highest regards and know there was nothing you could do to save him. It was a harsh reality he had to face, but at least he learned from it. He wanted to be able to stand beside Kendrew as a fell knight, to ride with him into battle, fight alongside him and be granted the Duchess' favour as a knight of her realm. However, there was much he had left to do. ``That, I pray as well, sir, that you will look upon me with pride and honour.`` He muttered, before the touch to his shoulder made his eyes lift. There would be such a day...oh how hopeful it sounded. He wished he would...one day..he would become a knight...one day. When others beckoned Kendrew, Lucius nodded his head and moved to put the pole weapon away, back in the stand it had been taken from. When themessengers came in, Lucius glanced over his shoulder, his gaze shifting between the messengers and Kendrew, watching his knight's reaction. The Lord Aodhan?...the Prince! What had happened? Had he gone missing? Lucius frowned, and eyes settled upon Kendrew. How distressed the man looked, and rightfully so. The Duchess' son was missing..people were doing what they could to help find him. Who would do such a thing? Lucius turned to face Kendrew fully. At the very word 'come, Lucius quickly moved to grab his and Kendrew's scabbards. On swift feet he returned, handing Kendrew his, and once the knight took it, he belted his own sword and dagger around his waist and over his shoulder. ``My Lord.`` He nodded, willing to follow Kendrew wherever he might ask


Kendrew: "There shall be pride and honor, more than there is now." He already looked at his squire with admirable eyes, for all he had done, seen, and would continue to do. Yodric was the squire he had lost at the hands of the imprisonment at Windmill Hill and the battle at Dumfries. The promise of all the lad would do lay as cold as the graves dug to hold the bodies of the slain. God had in his wisdom paired Lucius to Kendrew, and he would do right by him to see he gained all the fruits of the seeds now planted. After the messenger spoke and his demeanor changed, he led Lucius with him to the Eastern edge of the courtyard to scope the gathering of men. He stood on a stair above them, leaning into the wall. It seemed he was apart of the castle itself, and a nominal reason why he was easy to forget in presence.

One man said, "We triple the numbers, this is the only way. We have no other choice." Another shook his fist in disagreeance

"No, we keep to our doubled men n' look at what armed men we send where! Mind our pathways!"

"You're suggeting we forego the paths set to us by the Duke himself? The same that he treds, and darker, leading us," on? Were it not for him half of the troubles in the woods would be higher yet!"

"Bravery is valor, but we've no room for valor! How will we wage war?"

Kendrew: Kendrew made no move to change the look of his face as he watched them argue their points. (d)

Lucius: It was as if God himself had a hand in selecting Kendrew to he his knight, and given him the honour of serving under someone so noble and honourary. There was something rotten in the state of Skye, and Lucius knew that Kendrew wouldnot rest until the foul was rid of entirely. Moving behind his knight swiftly, one hand gripped the hilt of his sword to keep it steady as they jogged toward the post of the guards and patrols that lingered to get the information. Brown eyes fell from one men to the next, standing slightly behind Kendrew as the men argued. Pathways? How many pathways were there to guard? Lucius had no knowing of the secret passage ways in the castle. Confused with only a piece of the information, Lucius blinked, and looked to Kendrew. ``My Lord..what pathways do they speak of?`` He asked

Kendrew: " We move about differently than the others do, a castle is apt to have passages tha' are secret. Used by the servants, the important people, and Griffin Castle is no different in this. There are many passages here, and some pasages they speak of are the sorts in the walls or within the keep that take them into the woods and fields. Others open to battlements in the city. There are more still, known only to their Graces, tha' the knights of the Order walk tha' were shown to us, as our posistion is to ensure the household n' the high of the state. There are also specific places tha' his Grace has made safe and bid them use, and now with conflict in a safe place, they squabble o'er it." He sighed, his eyes looking on the men in mixtures of understanding yet no amusement. There was no time for arguing among the ranks or spreading rancor between one man in the next. "There are e'en more passages," He spoke lower of the secret, no one missing them atop the stairs. "called the King's Way. Passages tha' take the sovereigns anywhere in the city, n' some passages tha' go North or South, East or West. Her Grace can walk tae eery garden in the city and end up in he rprivate one, yet no one can find the way to her private one, or the passes she takes away from the city ones. The Duke, if he wished, could lead a charge through the Mountains and end up 'pon MacLeod's Table in the West. These passages they know not. It is an utmost secret, as ye see why." The way they talked among themselves should not be wrong, but what if one talked to loud? He could see the members of his order retained their composures while the lesser among them raged the argument on. "It was in the King's Way passages tha' gave Maubrey the leave to enter beneath our noses n' take Aodhan from the Lord's own chambers." (d)

Lucius: When Kendrew mentioned moving about differently, a brow arched and a look of confusion crossed his face, waiting for Kendrew to continue. Secret passages? That had Lucius blinking in surprise. So the Griffin castle had secret passages that now the enemy, or the captors of the Prince, knew about. That was certainly not good, and his eyes turned to the men that argued. There were more passages than there were men to guard, it seemed, and now, men weredying, being ambushed in the very passages that they were sent to protect and defend. Lucius frowned for a moment, but then quickly wiped it from his features as Kendrew's voice lowered and more private words fell from his knight's lips. Lucius did well to move closer and listen carefully to his words. King's Way. The very mention of the name 'MacLeod' has his heart skip a small beat, but Lucius did well to ignore it. So it was the King's Way that the captor used to take Aodhan. Lucius frowned. ``Then...my Lord, why does no one take this passage way? If this was the path used..why do the Griffin men not as well? Since no one knows about it..it might atribute to a reason as to why many patrolmen are slain..ambushed by the unknown passages..`` He whispered back.

Kendrew: "He is right, there are few men left to put in this posistion. " Kendrew stepped past Lucius up the remainder of the steps to view of the wall. Keeping his tone low, he said ," The King's Way is nay just one pass my friend, but many. Old Maubrey knows of the castle because he was here, many years ago. Tis m'belief he employed the same tactic then, gained knowledge of them from the Old Chamberlain while he was torchured, or placed a servant in the castle's household. Look," He used his gloved hand to show him the way the land rose and fell, or where it went flat, and mentioned to him that even beyond the castle were paths to be had behind rock, flower, or tree. "The men are grown tired, vengeful. I think some of them are taking Maubrey's speeches tae heart. There is rare instruction on matters of these passages for tha' reason, lest, they discover other means to kill the sovereigns where they stand. But we do have a plan, intact, n' in this year a sworn tae secrecy. I have found the maps o'the old ways. all ways. In this way, we shall be able to appear behind our enemies out there, in places they think us not, and flush the foxes from holes. This is the Lord Eamonn's decision, n' a good one it is. I have vowed to show him these ways, and the secret is imperative lest there are traitors among us, or men who speak too loudly. This, and nay even the Duchess is aware of how much i have come to know. It is the old harper's library in the Solarium, her mother's library, tha' speaks of it. Adam's grandfather's hand and the Duchess and Marshall's own brother's tracings. Yet if patrols have fallen, and not just beyond the woods, but in the passages..it might be as I have thought long." He put his hand to the walls "They are in the city's mooring stones, beneath the walls and at the low streets. Perhaps a few are even in the mountain pass just inside this castle. They are not just in the woods, and far deeper in the secret places. Eamonn readies his men to ride in surprise, but the forces that feed the enemy must be cut or we will send them intae an idea tha' will kill more men than we can not afford to lose." He pondered this. "I must go then, and bring back word from proof o' eye, for the Marshalls, Generals, n' the like." He spoke of going into this foul, dark trecherous places himself! (d)

Lucius: And Lucius was hot on his trail, following Kendrew and taking in what the man said and spoke of. If few knew of it and men could not be spared, how many of Maubrey's own men knew of the passages? Did anyone? Well, why did not men of the Griffin Court use it to counter Maubrey? Dark eyes glanced over the lands, already he could see that under them..were many wormholes that were used both defensively and offensively. How many passages were there? How many lead to the same point? A plan? Brilliant. Lucius turned back to Kendrew. Flushing of the foxes, compliments of the Lord Marshal Eamonn. If Kendrew had the maps, though, how many others were there? Did Maubrey have any? Surely the man could not remember all the passages by memory alone. That map would be a key. But horses could not travel the tunnels, so someone had to flush the men out so the Marshal could dispatch those that came. Then, an idea struck him, and he turned to Kendrew as the man mentioned going in there himself. A gloved hand touched the knight's arm, gripping it lightly as he moved close. ``My Lord..if the plan is to flush the foxes..then we must cut their routes. What if the patrols blocked those that they knew of? Collapsing the known passages...leaving the King's Way the only route that these men could use. That map..the one you spoke of..it is a key..but if in the wrong hands..here..my Lord, listen, I have an idea. Who would you trust to chart a new map of this passage..but not upon one parchment? Layers, my lord, a piece of the map upon each parchment, for when alone, they are imcomplete..but together..layered...and held before like..unlock the greatest pathway. If you go my Lord...I will go with you. I follow you to death, sir, and I could not let you go alone.`` He said, seriously, honestly.

Kendrew: "Aye, aye!" He put out a finger and shook it, his sign of agreeance as they slunk futher behind a delve in the wall to speak in secret, "From what I've seen o' the maps, there are passages that we can collapse tha' will not effect heart of the King's way, the greatest defenses n' offense. Ones tha' were for pocketing..where the bastards must be at. Cripple those, ye flush them out, and up..prevent them as well from gaein back where they were before. If we do this...here..they will merge out of the hills in the woods. If it can be done again...in the Under-Dark, at the low streets...than we can seal up the hidin' rooms without damaging the cities foundations...n' they will be in the open, to be cut down. And to mark it, yes! A new map. Maubrey can not have all o' this by memory, and no doubt he will try to come for the objects of what he doesn't remember...but if we make it anew, spread it out..and e'en cut off his ways to the original. This is the way..Lucius...if nay the only way." A squire had stumbled on an idea so tadamount to the success of every plan after,he paced in consideration of each angle. One day the lad could be the likes of a General himself, and Kendrew? He ought be such..but preferred ambiguity to solid entitlement. Though this campaign could make both of their futures more stable. " If we are successful at this, then the Lord Marshall may do his will. If proven well, to embark on it again, then the Lord General may maneuver his men in the city moorings. We may elect the fewest, strongest men for this task aye, n' then preserve our numbers fer the war. Maubrey, then, will be loosin' his choice men. I would nay ask you come, but if ye do I shan't refute you in doin' so. Only tha' before the other things happen..this must..and it will nay doubt be as vile as what we have seen in battle thus far. Are you certain?" (d)

Lucius: Stepping behind a wall to speak more privately with his knight, slipping around the corner to give them more privacy to speak without ears to listen upon their conversation..and brewing plan. They would need to make haste to reach the ebony Prince, and the passage way was the fast and most precise way to do it. There was no telling where he would be. It seemed that Kendrew already knew what Lucius was getting at and was quick to catch on. Agreeing with him, Lucius nodded. A new map would have to be drawn, but in a way that should a piece of it fall into the wrong hands, the enemy would not be holding the greatest key to Skye. A lone piece did little good without othe rest. ``Of course.A new map in a way so the enemy has no advantage. Not even Maubrey would think such..perhaps at most, he will think only that we draft a new map, but it is incomplete. As you said..spread it out to the Duchess' most trusted..A pieceof it. In a way such that the North holds the southern passage..a piece not their own to make the enemies all the more confused.`` He whispered. A General? Perhaps, but Lucius was contented being a knight, and perhaps a knight to serve the Duchess, just as Kendrew did. But Lucius knew that if Kendrew went alone..he could get killed. Two were always better than one. Lucius nodded quickly. ``It is my life to serve you, my Lord. I pledged my loyalty to you and the Duke and Duchess. Two has always been a better number than one, my Lord. I will go with you...to whatever end it may bring. For you, for Skye.`` He said firmly, ocnfidently. No matter what, he would go to protect Kendrew and aid the Duchess in her hunt for her son and heir to Skye's throne

Kendrew: "Aye, agreed. For then the Lord Marshall would have it secured...I wonder then too, in our journey we may figure this out m'friend, if there is pass to Eohmark, surely, if it is out to clan lands there must be so to Eohmark, for it was clan land once. The maps must be redrawn and ways to the passages of import sealed.." He nodded to all that Lucius had said. In pieces, the map fallen in enemy hands would be just lines with no end. If drawn by one skilled in maps and riddles it would become the key to one of Skye's greatest mysteries. Puzzles, riddles. The regents of Skye had been wise men to encase so much in stone, art, tapestry, and glass. "You are a good man, Lucius." Not a boy for a boy he was not. "Then together we go. How shall the maps be redrawn?" He asked for opinion of the squire even as he seemed to reach his hand to turn a stone. A door huffed open, with dust, that would lead them to an armory in the interior walls where they might be alone, prepare, and talk openly. "Either our memories need be very keen and we must recall each thing we see, or we shall have to take one o' them alive. Either way, I have nay commendable skill with such a thing. This must be presented tae their Graces, and not drawn by themselves. Perhaps one of the order, the court,...after this we may need let one another know of this so we may give the compelted tools tae our people." The way was dark at first, until he reached down and felt for a short, squart barrel that held oil. Atop of it were unlit torches. Dipping thus inside, he found means to strike with flint and stone until the way was lit down, down narrow steps. (d)

Lucius: Skye was not his homeland, unlike Kendrew here. He knew little of the lands save for what had been etched in ink upon parchment, and still he did not know the lands like Kendrew did, even Maubrey. Maubrey had enough advantages over the Griffin court, he did not need any more. This was just one of the many secrets of Skye, Lucius had no idea that there were thousands more riddles and puzzles to the court and Duchess. A good man...such a compliment that made him smile a bit. To hear that from Kendrew...well it held tremendous weight and value. ``Together.`` He repeated, nodding his cleft chin dipping in the process. ``Perhaps within four parchments..North..South..East..West. Each a section of the routes there, to make a part of the whole?`` He suggested, before his eyes turned to follow Kendrew's hand as he turned the stone. When a door huffed opened, Lucius took a step back, flinching a bit in surprise as a bit of dust rolled out from the door's movement. Blinking, Lucius glanced to Kendrew, before following in tow behind him, closing the door behind him. ``If these men are loyal to Maubrey..it is safe to doubt they would say much. Perhaps if the situation presents itself, a prisoner might be wise...but it would only prove to be a hastle to drag an unconscious man about uncertain terrain..`` Lucius said. While he did not want to take life if he did not have to, that battle had hardened him, and he quickly learned that sometimes, in your defense and that of others, it was necessary. Lucius watched Kendrew lit the torch, and picked one up himself, lighting it from Kendrew's already lit one after it had been soaked in oil. ``Memory would best serve our purpose now, I fear.`` And two heads were better than one alone, as they descended.

Kendrew: "Here, take this." Grabbing another torch from the wall, he lit it on his flame and passed it on to Lucius. As they went down the air became colder, and rife with dank musk. Cobwebs permeated the drafts and it was evident these ways went untouched save by the likes of the Order only to pass thorugh. They had never used the weapon's stores, the supplies of oil, hay, or such. "Memory will be our tool sae hold fast, e'ery twist, e'ery turn n' change. Should anythin' become of me ye will take wot I give ye n' present it to the Duke n' Duchess, the Generals n' Admirals. Brom will finish your education iffn I do nay." He would not leave Lucius without a way to go on, and should it be death awaited them it would be him, he hoped, who would go before the young. "Four pieces o' this map we will recall, n' see to their hiding. I will charge ye with this task if we both live or if only ye live." In time their feet touched level ground. Armory doors could been seen, barrels of things now empty from long ago. If necessary the court could fold in on itself and live inside or beneath the castle, city, and in the mountains! Holding up his torch began to feel along the wall, "The map showed a smooth stone, amidst all the rough ones on this wall, tha' should lead us to a common passage Ah already know..but it is the shorter route, n' from there to the King's Way.." (d)

[strongjustice]

The Ebony Prince in Glasgow

Anwen, William, and Aodhan rode in the carriage reentering Glasgow greeted by friends, allies, and countrymen, just as a returning emperor to his capital… Anwen had established the network to get her and her husband back safe and sound… a job well done. But none suspected the Ebony Prince to be with them.

As William stood upon the steps of his castle, he picked up Aodhan and held him aloft to the crowd. “Behold my grandson… my estranged son is alive… and has given me a grandson…” answered by the crowds’ cheers and applause… Setting Aodhan down, the calloused hand ruffled the curly black hair of the boy, as he looked up to his grandfather with a confused look.

Once a hostage, dragged across land and sea to English occupied Scotland, now heralded as a grandson of a monarch of sorts. What was William doing? Was he using Aodhan as a tool? To what measure?

Once he had aroused the crowd, and shown the boy, he turned and entered his Castle. There he showed Aodhan a large room and informed the lad that he would have the room converted to lavish him with anything he desired. Aodhan simply looked to his grandfather… “Ah wish tae gae home Grandfather…” With William smiling and answering… “Soon, lad…soon, but first we must make preparations…” Then he closed the door and locked it, leaving the boy with a confused expression.

Later than afternoon, the door unlocked and a woman of middle years, not too homely, entered announcing that she was Beth… his nanny. She began discussing plans for his room and his education. Of course, Aodhan knew not of what his Grandfather had in plans for him or when he would be allowed to return to his Ma and Da….

[Sir Dmitrii Zurban]

Temperance??

With the call of commanders, Dmitrii soon followed. His arrival in the chambers as the dead body was being removed and the arrested messenger was escorted away… both being prepared in following the Duke’s orders. Dmitrii did not question Adam’s actions, nor even ask. He simply approached the man waiting for his commanders. “My liege? What is it yu’d have of me…?” then he glanced back at the men cleaning the blood from the stone floor to the best of their ability.

Adam looked at his best friend and confidant, alook of grief upon his face. “Stand bae mae… Ah need yae near, faer yer mae trusted voice in such mat’rs o’this.” He knew Dmitrii would give him his inner most thoughts when others would not and Dmitrii had grown up in such deceit as William now provided Adam. Blood had been spilled… on his land and now in his Castle… Bess had told him before it was a fine line between him and his Father and he should be careful and not cross it…

“Dmi… He has taken mae son… does ‘e wish tae rip mae ‘eart once agin?” The Rus warrior sighed… “He does not yet know yu are his son… so merely taking the boy is out of fear for being recaptured… Now should the lad talk… and spill your secret… I fear Maubrey shall indeed attempt to rip out yer heart…” the warrior rubbing his chin… then looking at Adam as he cants his head… “But I think… Maubrey may attempt to use Aodhan being his grandchild to a much more devious extreme… to tempt the boy from his Father…”

“Mae very being desires tae send out the entire Army… tae sink ev’ry Ainglish ship… tae enter Scotland and burn it to the ground… and move onto Aingl’nd... killing every man, woman, and farm animal…” Dmitrii grabs his arm and spins him around… both hands clamped down upon his arms… “Pezdyetz… tis yer Father’s blood that makes yu speak such… clear yer head my brother… do what yer Mother would do… what has Lady Beathag said?” Adam’s sea-green eyes bore into Dmitrii while gritting his teeth…. “She knaews naet wot Ah feel right naew… Ah ‘ave nay spoke tae her… If’n Ah did, she too would want tae do wot yae do… tae knock some sense intae mae…” then he forced a smile.

Dmitrii smirked and popped the side of the Duke’s head. “That’s my brother and friend…” then he walked to the door and motioned to a servant… “Whiskey… hard and strong… and make haste…”

It was moments later that the servant arrived and the whiskey, in tall tankards, was handed out to the Rus warrior and the Duke. The men sat upon the elevated chairs and drank together… “M’Lord… first we do as yu directed… we prepare… first to protect the city… and all those within… we stock enough food to last us well into spring…”

“In the meantime, The Engineer, Captain Le Power, shall complete the walls and the trebuckets… Kendrew has moved the cannon as ye requested… they are on the four main parapets…” he smiled… “I also got three cannon from yer new armory and had them based upon the port entrance… no English ship can get within 300 meters unless they face the shell…” He laughs, then pats Adam on the arm… Setting down the tankard… “Yae take free reign wit mae resources, M’Lord Zurban…?” Adam asked calmly. With Dmitrii immediately responding… “I am yer Weapons Master, Lord Aberdeen….” [/i][/font] [/color]Adam just laughed… “Aye… tis sae…”

“Iz veniti…[sorry] I forgot to tell yu… I was experimenting with the new design cannon ball… the lighter ones… they Are no good against a ship… butttt…. If we make them for the small cannon, they explode after 100 meters into fragments… I think we can use them for soldiers attacking the walls… it does not kill them, but wounds them, taking them out of the fight.”

Adam just shook his head. “Yae ne’r seem tae amaze mae Rus…” Dmitrii just laughed… “Tis Mae job M’Lord…”

Adam started this afternoon in a rage due to his son being kidnapped by his Father… and started the evening with the arrival of his wife and commanders. The page coordinated the attendance of those now gathered, while Dmitrii went about calming his liege…

“Its time M’Lord…” the page interrupted… Adam looked to Dmitrii… “Yae are a sly fox Dmi… yae knaew wot yae were doin’…” Dmitrii just smirked… “Yer commanders await M’Lord… keep them not…” then he waved… “Oh and leave the tankard…” Adam smiled and left the container upon a table as he exited the side room and reentered the council chambers.

Seeing Bess make her way to the elevated chair next to him… Adam smiled at her and kissed her cheek as she sat. She would smell the whiskey, then glance to the door where Dmitrii leaned against the door holding the tankard in his hand. He hefted the tankard at Beathag’s look. [/font][/color]

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Summons - II.

"The last time Ah saw ye drink the whiskey tha' strong," the Duchess said on entering to the Weapon's Master, "Ye were at a joust, n' we sat on a fence why Ah indulged in the ale. Ah thought frankly ye prefered potatoe n' grain vodka from yer homeland. But if one must drink in a stranger's land, at least ye pick wisely."[/center]

It was good to see that Beathag was not so far in despair that she was robbed of a sense of humor. Smiling in hard times, they say, is what keeps what darkness would take you back for just long enough for everything to be made right again. Strength was the emphasis in the settled way that flourished in the last weeks of the fall until now. Like Adam, she experieced an enlightenment in finding the suprise of how wise each had become. People did not look on them as flighty, tempremental individuals that brooded so much as they saw them as determined, plithy rulers who would do most anything to ensure the freedom, prosperity, and good will of their people. In each month of the reign thus far, some territory, clan, or person swore allegiance and now the Isle of Skye had all of her sisters in the Hebrides and out. She enjoyed the fealty of the North Isles and Shetlands. Her cover protected the loyal houses on the West Coast of Scotland. It looked as it was many years ago when Christ came as a new thing to the land. Instead of one Kingdom, Scotland had all but fractured into three. The largest of these was no kingdom at all, merely a duchy, or so it was for now.

What it would become was still a matter very small to what it lacked now, and this was their beloved son and the peace to rebuild what was lost of man or spirit from the seasons before. "Mah beloved," she murmured against the strong bone of his jaw before accepting her place in the chair at his opposite side. "Dmitri." Feign a smile for the sake of it, she thought, and at least some of it will be true. It did not reach her eyes and she could tell by his expression neither did Adam's. They swallowed what wants they had to do what they had to do and to be there for those that needed them, but it was so hard. It was hard not to scream until the halls echoed with her sounds, or to forget why it was she remained still. It was hard to see her husband in pain like this, and to know he blamed himself far more than she. "Do nay let me change on wot ye speak," sending a servant after her parchment, ink, and quill "Pen will remember wot you say after the mind grow weary o' it. N' at the same time, I will talk with ye too, awhile." To wet her palet, a strong cider was ordered, more for content of character. It was no true spirit, so weak enough not to harm the child. She could only indulge in the red wine each fortnight, and the barley beer was not of her liking. The ciders of plain fruit, unfermented, were allowed. No things that could burn the womb or the belly, for the it would unbalance the fire in the blood. Her desire was tempered by the fact of the child she loved so much within and the need to hold the one who was not here. Capturing the cup in hand she drank deeply before sliding her hand into Adam's.[/color][/font]

[strongjustice]

The Ebony Prince - A New Twist to an Old Turn

For days, the young Ebony Prince was confined to the royal quarters Lord William had assigned him. He had little or no freedom, save the strict scrutiny of Beth… Here in Glasgow, he was in an environment strictly controlled by nobility and royalty, political divisions, and of great religious debate and distinction, yet beneath the veil of secrecy and unknown to him, it was filled with unchristian acts; not like home, where his Ma and Da sought an age of enlightenment, where new laws and new concepts of justice were beginning to be popular.

One morning, before Beth arrived to wake him, a new face emerged, and sought his confidence. Her name was Kira, sprite, beautiful, cheerful… and had a beautiful voice and smell… Aodhan could not help but be more fond of Kira than the elder Beth.

Skinnier, her hair darker than before, and a change of clothing styles, kept Kira from being noticed by many. Only William, and possibly Anwen, would remember her… if they saw her up close… but when they neared, she would always keep her face down, thought in respect, but kept full view of her face from the Master and Mistress’ view for a reason.

Kira had been a concubine to William. She had been a common village virgin, who’s betrothed had challenged William and lost. By orders of the King, William was invoking ius primae noctis, the ancient privilege of the lord of a manor to share the bed with his peasants' newlywed brides on their wedding nights. On that particular night, William took the woman time after time, her betrothed now dead; Taking her night after night until she succumbed to his every desire, willingly.

The infringement, by Anwen, upon her love toward William infuriated her. She, herself, had loved, and fornicated the man for several years, thinking herself His, and his alone. Now this stranger had weaved her web, forcing her Master to love another. Jealousy reared its ugly head… Kira was green with envy, vowing revenge. If she could not have her Master for her own, no one would be allowed to love him.

"You can run my love but ye cannae hide…" she mumbled to herself. Then she turned to Aodhan and smiled as if nothing was ever wrong, or ill-fated. William was not lost to her, for she would deal with the boy, and kill the bytch Anwen… leaving William to be hers once more.

Each morning, Kira would come to Aodhan, telling him stories of Lord William, the proud and mighty Duke of Aosta… knight of Scotland and England. Coming from this woman, Aodhan would learn of the good years between Kira and William… then the sprite lass would disappear before Beth arrived for his daily lessons… A smile on Aodhan’s face greeted Beth, for Kira had convinced the lad to keep her presence secret so they could play and laugh before the strict disciplinarian Beth arrived. The lad had agreed in this joyful plan.

[strongjustice]

The Return

The days passed and Kira and Aodhan became good friends… Kira had Aodhan vow not to tell anyone their secret… “Aodhan, my ebony prince… Tis almost the Yuletide… Wouldn’t you love to be with your family?”

Aodhan ran to her and jumped into her arms, his brown arms hugging the lass tightly. “Oh Kira, Ah woot luv that!!” then he leaned back in her arms, and looked at her… “Baet wot o’grandfather? Wouldn’t he be sad?”

Kira smirked and hugged him, her soft sweet voice lingering in his ears. “Aye my boy… he would… but your Mama and Da would miss ya most…” then she chuckled softly… “Besides, I shall keep Lord William company.”

Aodhan leaned back again and smiled. He did not even mention Anwen, because he did not like her at all. Every part of his being told him to veer away from the redhead.

Kira spent the better part of an hour getting Aodhan bundled up as not for him to catch cold for the ride back to Turas Lan.
She had planned this very carefully, to include missives signed by Lord William and sealed by his own ring, or it was supposed...

In the years of service, Kira had managed to learn to read and write while under William’s reign. In the end, this would aid her in many endeavors, this one included.

Missives in hand, and Aodhan bundled against the cold, the woman, so inspired, saddled three horses. Her and Aodhan would be riding one, towing the other two. It would be a method she had learned from stories told by William’s soldiers. Just before dawn, the brave pair would depart the castle in Glasgow… it would be a hard, harsh ride to Turas Lan, but a woman in love was determined.

The hours turned into days, and this resourceful lass would find them shelter for the evenings, only to leave by dawn’s early light. She and the Ebony Prince enjoyed the cold ride from Glasgow to the coast, chit-chatting all the way. The ferry from Scotland to Skye was an easy fix too... as by now, she had one horse left.

From the knoll near the wall city of Turas Lan, the pair could see the Griffin Castle atop the hill. Aodhan pulled away the material and reached up. Kissing Kira’s cold cheek, he smiled as she pulled the material back over his nose.

Down into the thicket they rode… where the lass halted the horse and slid off. Giving Aodhan the reins… “I know yu know how to ride… now ride back to yer parents… live free of yer grandfather…”

Aodhan looked down confused… “Yer not going?” he asked, as Kira shook her head… “Live free boy…” then she slapped the horses rump…

Aodhan, all bundled up guided the horse toward the city gates. As usual, all riders were halted… but the walled city would soon come alive… the Ebony Prince had been returned !!!!!

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

The Return - Part 2

Beathag watched as the city grew awash in a warmth in the cold, chill of winter. Despite the wind blowing or the ice that seemed to hang on skin, there was a beauty that couldn't be stopped.

The pine boughs, the candles, even the passionate portrayals in the morality plays for a babe she didn't believe in reminded her of the solstice child she did. Taking a piece of the holy and ivy from the corner of a door, she looked up as she recalled a song about the same, how sweet it was to be saved. She hoped the same for her son.

Even the heavy wool shirt and the coat of wool and animal fur could not stop the chill of the north wind as he walked into it on the way back to the Griffin Castle. The morning exercise with Dmitrii had been interrupted by a messenger from the Cardinal visiting from Rome. The Pope would be visiting in 15 days… and Adam’s trip to Aberdeen would be between now and then… so much, so fast… This was the Yuletide season, didn’t anyone wish to stay with their families beside him? He shook his head at the thought.

Yuletide season? But this one would be different with Aodhan gone. He cursed his Father taking his son from him… as he walked to the base of the stairs and looked around...

As he ascended the stairs to the Griffin Castle, there was a grand commotion at the gates… soldiers were running around, women flocking the gates… Curiosity grabbed Adam as if a large hand from the sky had him in its grip… Looking to the guards that accompanied him, he motioned them toward the gates… “Let us see wot bae the dist'rbance…”

It could have been Moses splitting the waters of the Red Sea, as Adam walked thru the crowd… people making a path for him as he walked toward the gates… There was a boy standing by a horse, guards standing around him… women wrapping more blankets upon blankets on the child…

When the two saw the other... it was a splay of coverings shunned as both of them ran to the other… “DA !!!”… “AODHAN…”

Then the man dropped to his knees in the snow, as the boy slammed against him and wrapped arms around the man’s neck… “Bae the gods boy, yu 'ave return'd tae us…” and the man wept…

“Nay the gods, Da… Kira helped me… she took me away from GrandFather… and the woman” and the boy hugged his Father tight around the neck… and giggled in joyous return.

Aodhan was not frightened, nor had he been… for he was well taken care of by all those who held him captive. It was Adam that was overwrought with emotion at the return of his beloved son. Standing, Adam held the boy up… “Mae son returns… let the Yuletide begin early…!! Ring the bells throughout the land… The Ebony Prince has returned !!!”

People began to scramble to cover the royal pair and escorted them toward the castle… Bells began to toll… People began to celebrate with song and music… Truly, God had been merciful this Yule season… what better way than to have a Son returned to the people…

Kicking the door open to the Castle, Aodhan in his arms, as he walked with long strides deep into its interior… A familiar booming baritone voice rang out… “BEATHAG… BEATHAG… WHERE ART THOU WOMAN??? I HAVE GOOD TIDINGS !!!!”

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

The Return - Part III

The days wore on and little more was said that hadn't been said before, or done that was not only a task continued. Adam's rule was abseloute. No one doubted his logic, his leadership. Those that had once second guessed his commands moved to complete his every whim without ever needing to be asked again. Those things, too, came the same of Beathag's influence. All poison had been sucked out of a wound left to fester called the Old Court; the wives of clansmen, duke, baron, a mistress, a widow, and the shadow of their male counterparts had been banned from the halls that as Beathag claimed, could no longer be left to rot. Maids and honorable women alike claimed that they no longer feared the vice of their harpy counterparts or thought that intrigue went unpunished. Gossip stirred, but nothing above a match arranged or the usual sorts of romantic things or sorrowed tidings that stir the heart. There was a shadow, you see, that was longer stretched than anything the temper of the Aberdeens could do.

A wickedness left alone for decades had caused every battle fought, every vice to be replaced, and every malady to cure. Old servants gave birth to children with a chip on their shoulders from the parents who did not get what they believed to be their due.

"The spite ye hold in yer heart will nay be left to hang in my hall anymore," became the saying the White Lady said. Quiet, simple, it seemed that with the knowledge of life inside of her that the presence of she exuded became stronger in purpose. It hovered, wrapped around now instead of just lingering over. "Ye are banished. From Griffin Castle, from the Lord's presence, from mine. There is no place you can go, nothin' tha' will be beyond mah reach. Remember tha', when you petition another house tae serve. Also remember," on this she would look over her shoulder as the unfortunate man or woman would find their anger turning to fear. The lady didn't roar as she had, or scream. The fact that she stood so stark, still, and delivered her edicts with a definite ease began to remind them of the Duke at his finest hour, the Lord Marshall, the Physician, and others. "there is more than one way tae lower m'axe."

The Griffin was at no lack for executioners.

The woman still lived. Stronger than ever; her heart beat feverantly for the time when it would resound beside Aodhan's again. When Adam would hold them in his arms,and for that day she stood resolute. No one but the family knew how deep the pain went. So deep, infact, that to learn of what had happened among the Campbells made her clutch at night her belly so the child knew to remain. So this went on for many days and many nights. In secret she would stand at the corner of the room where toys went unplayed with, tarry at the edge of ring where he practiced neither swords nor horses. His favorite books were opened by loving hands ,and in this way she cried for him. In steadfast, strong, loving silence. It was in a moment of retrospet that the bells began to ring with joy. Was there some holiday at work in the Yulemas time? A declaration of a wedding, a betrothal, or birth? Turning to the maiden who cleansed the chamber she said:

"N' I hear there is reason tae celebrate. E'en the people are cheering. Were tha' I could join them.. would tha' the bells tolled for my son."

The chamber maid went to investigate by peering out of the windows. Her voice became little more than a dream to the mother, and even the call of her name on Adam's mouth did nothing to stir her. Were it not for what was to come, Beathag would have sunk into the bowels of a dark, dark place. The day that Aodhan ran into Adam's arm was another day in her life she could say that both of them saved her in some way. "M'lady!" the maid prattled on, tugging at her hand, "M'lady, your Lord calls! M'lady..."

She turned away without hearing that it was Aodhan he held. Turning the corridors the processional of people became closer. All of their smiles, embraces, and reaching for her arm she had to comb through before seeing the source of their happiness. Glistening sea-green eyes looked to the dark, deep spirit of the Ebony Prince. The two of them chattered on about his adventures, and again, to her, the sound fell quiet. Her gasp quieted them all. Pushing past many she began to run until she could encase them in her wide arms. Aodhan laughed, turning about until he clasped his mother's neck now. As if a piece of her heart missing had returned, her flesh reddened as the instrument of life pounded louder. Falling to her knees with him she only laughed, smiled, and the tears that wouldn't fall in sadness fell in happiness.

"Mama! I came 'ome, n' I was telling Da how it all happened. Grandfather took me..but he didn't send me back. Kira did, so it was not Gods if you think that."

So sensible, he smiled as he kissed her salt tears. The ease of his voice was a child's voice, yet mature. Resolute. He had become what his parents had become, and for him they were this. They inspired him, and he inspired them all. Comforting them all with honest truth he told of his adventures with no crying. He had never cried, he said, but behaved as he was taught and knew would show he was strong. They didn't cry because he had been harmed, or that he was gone. The parents cried because their son had grown and they were proud. They cried because time passed, and even in mourning it they were astonished at what it had produced in all of them.

"Fetch the Marshall, n' the Physician. Fetch the Court! Tell them the Prince is home n' there shall be a day of praise tae welcome him hence n' remember wot it is we stand fer. Gae, gae on! They will want to see their nephew..their Prince. Our Prince."

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

What We Are Made Of: Revelations on Lamonts and Campbells, Part I





Rosalind: It was a clear evening fine for clearing one's head, and clearing her head was precisely what she needed. She wrapped up in her wool arisaid, bundling herself against the cold that seemed to seep deeper into her leg each winter, and make a nest for itself until the warmer days of spring. There were joys and tragedies within the castle, and even revolving like a minor satellite around these greater bodies was mentally and emotionally taxing. Yet with calm efficiency, she managed the details that must be seen to, details few if any ever considered in the wake of such great and troubling events. But now was the time to return to her nightly tradition of walking -- walking the corridors when even the servants were long asleep, making her rounds in the Griffin gardens when it seemed too cold for even these Scots built so much more sturdy than she, conferring with the baser elements of the world as she delayed, just a few days longer, another trip to the confessional. Tonight, though, she brought a desk set with ink, quill, and paper to jot down what tasks needed doing on the morrow, lest they slip from her mind during sleep. It settled her heart, to know the routine and order of things well before they happened. Maybe years ago, she would not have bothered with such trifling details, but there was a look of satisfaction on her face as she set the board down on the nearest bench and rolled up her sleeves -- before, shivering, she thought better of it and sat down on the bench. *

Beathag: "Come. Tis nay sae cold tha' we can nay stand it. Wot dae ye think?" The Duchess spoke to a companion, which was not unusual. She had: a retinue of three fine ladies, a court of family and close friends, and trusted servants a'plenty. In the condition that would keep with her for some months yet, it was deemed better that she should be kept in sight instead of left to her own devices for too long. Company tonight was a cherished sort. Small, but only in that he was a child. Behind them came the chattering of the other servant women: The laundress and keeper of the kitchen. Despite the lose of their beloved Aida, they too, found a reason to smile even if they wore black cloaks of mourning. Close by them too where their nieces and daughters, for whom this company was sweeter than vigils of prayer. "Ah, dae ye feel tha' wind! It comes from the North, the great North o' the Vikings.." Tales of the North Wind animated the royal mouth that kept the party huddled together. The servants were little below the ladies now, often referred to affectionatly as the Ladies-of-Scullery-at-Line. Each offered a little imput to the tale, things heard in time until the lad between them would select his favorite to hold fast to. He held his mother's hand, as he said, "Ah'm too big for her to carry now with the baby inside." His concern for her was precious, and when they stopped he pressed his head to her belly and asked if she thought, like he and Da, it would be a girl (d)

Rosalind She heard the reference to the Vikings and knew immediately who had entered the garden. Smiling, she put aside any personal reservations as to where, exactly, that Northern wind was blowing from, and stood up. Quill left in the ink pot and her list with only two items written, she lifted the lantern she had brought out into the garden. She didn't wish to catch anyone off-guard, something she inadvertently did more often than not, given her quiet nature. It was good to hear the sound of so many feet accompanying the Duchess's voice. Bess always kept interesting company, and now, it seemed she was accompanied by the man of the hour himself! In an arisaid of subdued Argyll blue, she kept to the theme of mourning in the court, her darker gown beneath out of solidarity with Liliana, who had been her greatest friend these past few months, and had born Rosalind's secrets with such grace, and in turn trusted Rosalind with a few of her own, their alliance had been natural, much to the chagrin of any eyes reporting to Lamont. "My lady, you are looking hale," she greeted with a curtsy and another warm smile. "As is your son." A small pang in her heart, but nothing in her hazel eyes, as she aimed the lantern's light toward the pairing of mother and son. *

Beathag The Ebony Prince was the length of his Mother's leg so in this he stood well over many boys his age. He had the height of a lady of six or seven years worth of seasons, a voice with a mature alto peeking through a child's high pitch. His dark, thick Moor' shair was put into twists close to his head, and held back by a twist of leather. As he aged there was more of a man in him he would never meet, but a prominent showing of his mother's features by the light flecks of hair that were stubborn to subside to dark, and the curious brightness of green in his eyes, or the lightness beneath his dark skin. In face he favored her greatly, as if the sweet, dark shadow of some favorite dream. Midnight cobalts fell long over her arms in a comfortable kirtle, the chemise beneath it a subdued gray wool that peeked over the ghillie boots worn. "Thank ye, Rosalind. Tis fer mah son Ah be so Hale, n' he is home tha' he beams sae..."

Aodhan Aodhan's mouth wore a smile that was the image of Lord Adam's, a man whom he emulated in action while his blood made him something else entirely. "Goo' evenin, m'lady." He bowed at the waist as he had been taught and smile larger when it was done. Leaning into his mother's side, he asked, "Can Ah play hide n- go seek with Elise?"

Beathag The woman was so good natured to devote some time to the child while her kitchens were overseen by her apprentice. In the absence of Aida, she and the Laundress were the logical points of connection. Taking up her lantern, she took him to a place that was still in the sight of his mother. "Once he was vera small. All tha' seems a score ago." (d)

Rosalind Avalle: "They do grow up quickly, I hear," Rosalind commented, watching him take off. "He is a credit to you. Such fine manners, and the makings of a tall, dark, and handsome prince. Like a fairytale." She laughed, truly glad to see the two united. "I can only imagine what a relief it must have been to find him safe and happily returned to you and your lord husband." Rosalind fell silent for a moment. It didn't seem polite to make any further inquiries, and truly, none were required. Rosalind's skills were in listening and reacting accordingly, which made her an excellent sounding board, when one had use for such a device. "Oh, it is so cold out here, let us at least have some manmade cheer to keep us warm!" There went a round of requests for drinks and some extra braziers, and soon enough, the ladies in the garden had whatever they required, brought to them by pages mustered into duty for this light work. After everything had found a place in the garden, Rosalind folded her arms across her chest, looking a bit like one of statues of the Virgin, wrapped up in her wool cloth, though decidedly less austere with that intelligent fire in her eyes. *

Beathag "The sea is colder," she remarked as she pulled the gloves taut over her hands, "tis the wind off o' it n' the hills tha' make it seem colder up here, but i remember winters at sea, n' at least there is fire we can have here." On a ship, a fire couldn't be lit for fear the vessel would feed the spark. Pages set up braziers and cider could be fetched from the kitchen. At the sea, thoughts of home and ample blankets kept one warm, "N' tae think, used tae always loathe dockin m'boat in winter. The sea takes on qualities as the season's change. Like people do. Tis ne'er the same twice e'en if some parts remain the same. Sae a child, tae, is this way. They do grow fast." Beathag failed at the semblance of a stately Virgin but succeeded at looking every bit the part of Freya. All unorthodox, giant height and tumbling golden hair. Green eyes saw the moon and seemed to hold the glow of it in the center of the orb. Scotts were fond of names of affection, and it was no wonder the revival of the herald Changeling-Child was sticking hard to her heels. She was either that, or some mythic thing brought over with the Nordic portion of her her heritage. "We missed him sae much, curious it was. He runs tae Adam's arm and claims tha' a woman named Kira led him here n' took him from Glasgow. Should we e'er find this Kira she will be given praise tae last all her days. Adam n' I are complete now. We may breathe, n' in so be more natural tae the likes o' yerselves." (d)

Rosalind: "The first and only time I have ever been on a boat was shortly after my wedding. We crossed the Channel in the springtime, and the weather was fair, save that morning -- there was fog so thick, I waved my hand in front of my face to assure myself I was not in some fairy world. I have never seen the like since." She smiled. "But I have never lived more than a day's ride to the sea in my life; I feel it's an interesting neighbor with its own temperaments and moods, and should be respected in as much as I would not want my cattle stolen or my roof blown down." Laughing, she picked up a mug of cider for herself. She was taller than most women herself, a fact most forgot due to her other physical traits, namely the characteristic limp that looked particularly painful on the colder nights. She never voiced a complaint, never so much as rubbed the afflicted limb, and it was beyond the bounds of anyone's duty at court to comment on why a Norman lady of quality had a gait like a sailor. "I will light a candle for this Kira, for if nothing else, she reminds us that good does exist in this world, and kind deeds can be performed without any benefit for the doer." She lifted her mug with the others and toasted to this woman from Glasgow, temporarily wondering what motivated the lady to do such a thing. What challenged others to see evil and correct it without a thought to personal cost? Such was a question that occupied minds far keener than her own, and would occupy them for centuries to come, no doubt. *

Beathag: "If I am tae far inland it does nay feel right to me. The moors to one hand, the sea to another with all o' the temper she can muster, the comfort she can yield n' the beauty both grand n' terrible. A fog so thick ye can't find a hand, a storm harrowed only at its heart to see the water go to smooth glass for miles." A Norman lady of quality had a gait like a solider and a Celtic woman of some repute had lived, without remorse, aking to one for many years. Winter aggrivated old aches that made the holder remem ber how they came. For Beathag, it was the cricks of battle scars old and the newer sorts of the last year. It was the hand that at times moved but felt nothing, but there was no reason to harp on it. Taking hold of an empty cup she let the cider be poured. Steam rose, curling high to heaven. "Aye. Thanks be tae tha'. This is somethin' I pray others will remember before the end. A stranger brings mem'son n' the Holy See comes hence tae an isle ruled by Heathens. Tha' I lived to see such days as this." They were old for their age, cresting the edge of life's end or gone beyond it with an awe that inspired some. Maybe height and a soldier gait were a testament to usefulness. "Tell me how fares yer matters, lass?" (d)

Rosalind: They were women with greater concerns than physical failings. Strength, to some. Unreasonable stubbornness, to others. Whatever it was, it had kept the Duchess and the Lamont widow in fair company through the years. They were still fully capable of swinging a few battle axes when the time came for action. "Better you than me in that ship, my lady, but you do know, if you ever called for a companion in such a venture, I've not the heart to say no." She laughed again, took a sip of her cider, and looked contemplatively at the winter gardens. There was something wonderfully stark about the juxtoposition of green boughs and bare branches under the moonlight, the faces of the living highlighted by the low red glow from the braziers. "The Holy See comes here?" She lifted a brow. This was news to her, and welcome news. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, as if she might take off on a race to find this holy man and see if he might do a favor or two for a penniless widow. She nearly laughed again at the image. No, it seemed she was stuck fighting her own battles for a while longer. "Ah, my matters -- they really are inconsequential. I do believe they will sort themselves out, one way or the other, given a bit of time." And perhaps a well-timed arrow, accidental slip, or, that failing, belladonna in his ale. "And that is all I pray for, really. A bit of time and some peace. Perhaps patience, which I was never particularly blessed to begin with." *

Beathag: "The Gods would think we grow bored without battles, n' men racin' off tae the call o' the horn. Some intrigue, or matter tae mull o'er. His Lordship does nay employ enough poets fer if he did we'd have a veritable theater o' things tae perform. Ah only write annuals n' keep the old histories n' bard ways, Ah'm nay an actor." Not in a play written by a man, at least. On God's stage she played the part of Highlander-come-Royal as to marry the Lost Proverbial Son. "Ye are kind to say yes tae boats. If e'er I did travel again Ah'll bare tha' in mind. A great many o' the court are afeared o' boats n' rightly sae. But we sail nae tae the Holy See, the holy see sails thus 'ere. Sae mark," so the giant women considered life as it was known, "We shall gae tae war, this is true. The Holy o' all Christ Child Holies comes hence, n' in our company is a Princess o' Italy. There are also forsaken enobledchildren, secrets, n' wolves tha' run about the valley with murderous illness. There are all matter o' mad folk n' yet we still manage to smile with our cider. Ah dae sae Rosalind, we're daein right well." She grinned as she looked out to the land. "Ah too, pray for tha'. Peace. As it is tis a fickle thing. Ne'er comes unless a storm rages first or it isn't true peace. it is a lie we desperately want tae believe. " (d)


Rosalind: "My husband's favorite quote was that man might never know true freedom without having first been enslaved. I thought him mad at the time, but I've since come to understand it's a quote applicable to a great number of things. There is no peace without war, no understanding of love without first the absence thereof. We're bound to a life of relativity, my lady. What is dark but the absence of light, and light but the absence of shadow? And one man's wealth is another man's pittance. A test, perhaps, to one man but a trial of the soul to another. I do hope it is as they say, and these trials do lead us to some greater reward. Life is difficult. Living is tremendously hard. When there are so many ways in which we can suddenly cease to be, it is a miracle indeed we stand here and toast good souls we may never meet in Glasgow." Rosalind was too practical to profess a great belief in hope, but there it was, in a nutshell -- she was, in the end, just a romantic and an optimist. Underneath fatalistic predictions, she believed in gold on the other sides of rainbows and happy endings without undue compromise. "You do sense it. The storm. It has been building for a time and I am not sure where it will strike, but it will. I do not know enough of weather to continue the analogy." She smiled. "But it looks, sometimes, as if we may come out the better for having braved it." *

Beathag: "It has already struck. Despite the good care of ye, n' Liliana, n' the Household m'senses are nay as hampered as wot old actions are. They are keener. Tha' storm has long since struck. It came e'en before m'son was stolen n' we prayed for Aida. It came before we prayed for the Campbells in our company. It strikes now though in the flash they'd stand there n' tell us twas nothin'. " Calmly ventured, calmly gained. The knowledge was taken in with the samesimplistic action that drew the cider from the mug. Sliding down the throat, it was jolted after again with speech."It thunders in a Valley O' Stars, n' rocks across the sea. Ah know it e'en rumbles in your own heart, m'friend. Good Sir Campbell is nay here. N' nay just not among the court. He has been with his wife for a time but he is gone now, out intae the Island n' Ah believe he has an intent tae use his sword if his words fail. Somewot tae dae with Lamonts n' Campbells n' all matter o' clan madness. Ah know this because his official business gives him leave tae gae toward these places, e'en if his reasons in the end will be personal. E'en a fool could see the murder on his eyes, nay matter how calm, he has only learned to go cold, as many soliders can. His sister-in-law was lost, his child, too? He, n' the men like him are grown mighty sick of it. Oh yes, the storm has long since struck. The lightnin' is only goin' tae move closer, tha' is all." She looked over at Rosalind with a tilt of her head. "Wot dae ye need tae happen in these matters o' the clans, nay wot ye pray for, but wot dae ye need. Twill be done, if it can be."(d)

Rosalind Avalle: Like so many things in her life, the subtleties rocked her foundations as much as the more dramatic news. Her pale face went even paler at the news of Campbell's departure. Surely it had not already started? She touched a hand to her temple to steady herself. This was not going according to her plans, but nothing ever did save matters of the court within her purview. "The loss he suffered was tremendous. And I do not know how a man might react to such a loss, how he might channel that rage." Though she had ridden to battle in her husband's stead, fought a war to keep the land her husband abandoned, and had been fighting to survive every day since Inveryne fell four years ago, she was still a woman, still distinctly feminine in how she handled her affairs. Discrete, yes, but not completely stripped of emotion. She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them to focus on Bess. "I am not sure what needs to happen, save the reckoning these clans so richly deserve. I -- I regret the loss of what blood may spill when it happens, of course I do. But it cannot be stopped, can it? Those that can fight, will fight. Those that can run, must run. And those that have neither the sense to do one or the other, must pray. And so it is as we said earlier -- pray for peace." Bess had distinctly given her permission to ask for whatever she needed. But she wasn't sure what that was anymore, and frankly, all of her plans had simply resulted in her headache, rather than staving off any bloodshed. *

Beathag: "By now ye are aware tha' there are certain members o' this court n' household who move with different authority than others. The most trusted men in service move as the hands o' justice n' with our permission, they are the hands o' death. Sir Campbell will fast become an executioner on his adventure. Aye, he will channel tha' rage. Rest assured. Any fool enough to cross him will loose in a very hard way." Reaching out a hand she placed it gentle, firm on Rosalind's back. "He is goin' tae dae somethin' tha' will endear him to some n' endanger him with many. Ah have nay doubt tha' one of the Campbells 'pon the Isle raises trouble at the behest o' his mainland kin. When Kendrew returns, the tanist will not. He will be the tanist for the Campbells o' Skye as they are called, if nay the only tanist to be blunt. If there are any o' the Lamonts tha' he should be made aware of, tis best to tell me now sae tha' he can be made further aware. If he is confronted, unless expressly said, he does nay have to be discriminatory." If there were any that ought be spared should battle ensue or captures come, any that might be of use or that were needed time was of the essence. Many things relied on time, and by the time war was declared the enemy would not find Skye wanting nor having waited. "Any with aim to take ye, tae make trouble will fast find their head fer the pluckin'. In tha' way I am cold as the winter. Ah'd rather take heads than see those good have theirs taken n' can dae sae without flinch or regret." (d)


Rosalind: She was aware of the hand upon her arm, but it brought her only a moment of comfort. She listened carefully to Bess's words, and the wheels were already at work in her mind. "There is something you should know. Something I told in confidence to Liliana, and then to Kendrew, but it is complicated -- and itself complicates many things. But it is not, truly, evil. Not worth eradicating. Campbell's affairs are his own, and those within the Campbell clan, I would sooner wash my hands of, save my husband -- " she balled the fist of her left hand, but her expression remained neutral, "is inextricably tangled up in reclaiming land from them." She felt she had made this explanation so many times before, repeating it now seemed superfluous. But she retold the story faithfully of how she had been kidnapped from Aberdeen by the Lamonts that first night she had attempted to leave for Skye when Bess's people were still in the city. How they had ridden across the whole of Scotland and met her late husband's brother, Fearghus, and how by the next night, he had found and bribed a priest to perform the marriage ceremony. "I left ... without his blessings." She cleared her throat at the massive understatement, but would not insult Bess's intelligence. After taking a sip of her cider, she continued by reporting the circumstances of her escape attempts, the final culminating with a hunt in the woods that nearly ended her life, and sent her scrabbling for freedom until Campbell men found her outside the town of Lanark. "Killing Fearghus would, in all honesty, make me a happier woman, certainly. It would most definitely relieve me from seeking out holy authority for anulling our marriage, which was never consummated. However, he is good for Lamont. He can be an ally to Skye, and most likely will prove himself a formidable strength to you if it comes to battle, which is most certainly will. Kendrew, however, may be placed in great danger if he takes the tanist's cloth. As .... " she paused, not for greater effect, but because it was the first revelation to anyone outside the bonds of blood she had made, "as will my son, the son of Colban Campbell, who turned three years of age two nights ago. Bess -- my lady -- there are many forces at work, and eliminating one now may be the undoing for you and yours. I am willing to bet on Fearghus, though I hate him to the extent of that word -- he has taken many things from me, though it was through the cruelty of ignorance that I hold him most responsible. He has treated me ill, but we share a common interest in wishing to see our people's dignity restored. There must be a balance; we had different roads to its restoration." *

Beathag: She listened to this with no shred of emotion passing over her features to flicker a light of hint as to what went on in her head. A learned trait was the concealing of emotion even in her eyes, and the royal veneer didn't peel to afford a hint of what a fellow woman might think of such situations. A ruler instead looked at the plausiblity of incident at a wife gone without blessing, unconsumated marriages, and dangers ahead. Unmentioned sons were heirs in their own rights. "Ye should have mentioned the greater details o' this far earlier." She cautioned, but did not reprimand. It would have made no difference to temprament, only outcome. Even now the message could only influence. "We can stay his hand on this Fearghus, but on other things the danger will be wot it will be. Too much is at stake n' too much 'as been lost. The Campbells are split, as are many clans these days, but they are splittin' vera viably n' before the King, no less. Kendrew will be the Tanist o' the Campbells o' West Isles. Let others squabble o'er the politic of it, he was given the boon he will accept it. Perhaps this knowledge n' his new posistion may of use tae Fearghus, n' hopeful it shan't anger him. If it does m'hope he is a man o' some restraint. In the first few days o' the new year, Ah will declare him a true Tanist. Twas his choice." Cider was sipped again. People could be spared death, honor could be found, but what was coming for many months couldn't be ceased. Campbells would establish themselves here. There would be a new family of them, derived from disagreeance instead of blood (d)

Rosalind: "I should have." She nodded slowly. She could assess a situation as well as any other, and at the time of her arrival, it had not been safe for her to be alive. She shuddered to think what might have happened if he had foreknowledge of her brief affair with Colban Campbell. "While I am sorry for my omission, I understand the consequences. I tried to repair what was damaged. I warned Kendrew of what might face him. But I could not tell anyone about my son. I could not." She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. "I made my last escape only because he believed me dead. When I arrived in Skye, he discovered that I was not. He sent me a dowry, which I refused twice, before I accepted -- my title was bankrupted, and all income from my estate in France has been claimed by Fearghus. I have sold what he sent me and set aside funds for his arrival in Skye, if he should follow. That he does not convinces me he has other items on the agenda more important than reining in his wife." She sighed. "He laid siege to Inveryne. Perhaps, with the disarray in Clan Campbell, he will claim it easily. It will bolster his forces, which have new armor and weapons, and quality horses. I believe he has hired mercenaries, though how he came by money for the siege much less the arms or men I do not know. My lady, we have a delicate balance between us only because our priorities have temporarily distracted us. I kept knowledge of my son restricted to Colban and myself; the boy's parentage is unknown, save he belongs to Colban and is well cared for at Lanark. Fearghus cannot know, and as far as I am concerned, will not know. While he lives, he suits the needs of Skye. But I swear, as he has sold me off that I will never see Inveryne, nor live to tell of this winter, I will not go without a fight. My son lives in Lanark and there he will stay. In this way, I disappoint neither clan and betray both, but so be it. Kendrew has my support in his endeavors, and though Lamont wishes it, for personal reasons and matters of loyalty to old friends, I could never agree with complete vengeance against Campbell." She smiled, amusement entering her eyes. "It was not intentional, but it fits. He binds Argyll together, my son." *

[Sir Lucius MacLeod]

The King's Way, Part II
TAKE UP YOUR OATHES AND SEE THAT THEY BE FULFILLED..

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] He muttered it over and over again. No, not for the sake of trying to remember the objective of his mission so much as recalling that the mission still had to be done. In the courtyard of his master, he sat on the lowest steps of the courtyard that lead up to the great doors where the Griffin resided. Like a centurion at the mouth of a mythical cave, the whet stone was stroked over the sharp of the sword to improve the quality of the cut. Among the young squires, Lord Aodhan was not far off as he watched the lads of seven. There was talk of acquiring the lad a knight a whole year ahead of schedule because of his prowess. Still, with all this talk and with the castle returning to normal..he did not let down his guard. He could smell a battle on the horizon. The pommel eased into a thick, callused hand. "The way." Again, it was said. True, he had other things to consider: the healing of his lady wife and the progress of his squire. Lucius amazed him constantly. No matter the task he was put to he accomplished it to the point of excelling beyond expectation. Other boys would be bred for this but it was within Lucius so that he was it. As the responsibilities of the Order were becoming clear to him, so his path was clearer on what he would give to Lucius to help him aspire to the greatness he deserved. His goal, so tantamount to it all: The young man survive their secretive, dark ventures.[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He called out, eyes roaming the halls.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] The snow buried the monikers but did not melt the ire it arouse. He saved that instead for more important things. As the doors opened, he heard Lucius' call for him and turned to stand so that he would be visible.[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He said, and touching the man's arm gently, giving it a squeeze in silent farewell, Lucius moved that way, changing his path and heading down the pathway that Kendrew had gone. Pushing open the door, dark eyes swept about the courtyard, turning his gaze this way and that until Kendrew stood and became visible to him. A small smile appeared on his face as he released the hilt and instead leather gloved hands pulled the plum cloak about his body to shield him against the chill of the air. ``My Lord Kendrew, it is good to see you well...`` He called out as me moved, stepping from the stone path and into the snow to get to Kendrew's side faster. ``My Lord...I do not know if I should be asking this...but you are my knight...my friend and mentor...I have no one else to ask. Before the end of the war...will you show me the path to knighthood? I made a promise to someone that if I returned from this war...that I would come back a knight...`` He asked softly, staring up a bit at Kendrew as he held the cloak about him tighter now, feeling a bit embarrassed and nervous about asking such. Thankfully, he could blame the rushing of colour to his cheeks on the chilly air.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] The time was not long but he had been away. They both had, to whatever end of business and found that there was a sordid mess to untangle. He considered the physical and social position of his companion when the request was rendered. Whet stone cast aside, he picked up the sword to slide it home to the sheath. Just as it seemed his quiet was surely a no, he said, "God willing, I will be there to receive you n' call you Sir just after the honored is levied m'friend. I will show you tha' path, though you are on it already." A promise rendered was one to be kept. Kendrew promised to make him a knight, and it seemed Lucius promised someone else he'd become one too. "Must be a worthy person, to make such a claim n' swear to it." Small the smile, but no less genuine, it curved one side of his mouth upward as he nudged Lucius' arm. "I wager you'll have a good tale tae go right along with it. We've done much tagether already, n' ye've done quite a bit on yer own."[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He replied at length, before lifting dark eyes to Kendrew's lighter ones. But at the man's words, Lucius could not help but smile a bit more. He could keep his promise then, as long as he continued to serve Kendrew well, do as his knight bid, and survive the battle. Indeed, it was a worthy person to make him give such a promise. Very worthy. Lucius blinked a bit, at the nudged, and flashed a nervous smile. ``...A tale indeed, my Lord.`` He replied, and pausing, Lucius glanced around, to be sure that there was no one about, before he stepped closer to Kendrew. ``My Lord...this evening...I have plans to be married...in secret. Thus far no one but you knows this, and I pray that it remains that way. The Lady MacLeod has consented to marry me...but her father does not know. After the war...I promised her that I would come back a knight and be worthy of her hand to the eyes of her father and the world...then we would simply remarry.`` He whispered, but paused and glanced down. ``I love her...my Lord. I would wait...but if I shall not return...I would have never known her love...and nor would she..So...if I should fall in this war, with our marriage a secret...no one would know but us.`` Dark eyes once again rose to meet Kendrew's. ``Please, my Lord...help me be a knight worthy of the MacLeods...`` He asked, putting all his faith and stock in Kendrew's mercy and teachings.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] Listening further, he heard a story that made him blink his own eyes not once, not twice, but thrice before he looked down so that the nature of their conversation remained esoteric. To say that he was not in shock was a falacy. Kendrew was not prone to lying, "Ye've been busy, Lucius. Far tae much idle time on yer hands, courtin' in wooin' pretty women....MacLeod? A MacLeod ye say.." A Clansmen's daughter? He crossed himself as the talk went on, but he could not deny love. Youth, aye. Heat and vigor, aye. But he knew, too, that Lucius was a smart young man. Surely he'd considered many avenues before selecting this one. "If the path becomes dire, lad, I will cross ye with sword m'self on the shoulders and do all that I can to bare you back to Turas Lan for your golden spurs n' the ceremony ye fittingly deserve, but you will not be forsaken. Somehow you will be a knight. I stake m'sword n' life upon this."[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] And that was a promise and vow he made, even before he asked Siobhan to marry him. But Kendrew's words made him smile wide, and his eyes brighten. Unable to help himself, Lucius flung his arms around the knight's broad shoulders and hugged him fiercely. ``Thank you my Lord! Thank you! I am eternally in you debt!`` He breathed out, and releasing the knight, Lucius grabbed Kendrew's face and planted a hard kiss to his scruffy cheek, in pure happiness. He would keep his promise to Siobhan, and Kendrew would help him...do what he could. Oh Lucius would not disappoint him! Letting go of the poor shocked Knight's face, Lucius removed his glove and showed Kendrew his bandaged hand, where the cloth covered the wound on his palm by the dagger. ``For her, my Lord. I risked my life for her...that day in the woods. I could not see her harmed...is that the feeling you have for your wife, Sir Kendrew? Would you do anything for her, even die for her? Oh, I would give my life for Siobhan...I would defy the stars in her name...if I could love her freely...`` He rambled on, before pulling his glove back on and flexing his fingers in it. Lucius then took a deep breath. Now, all he had to do was fulfill his promise to Siobhan, but to Kendrew as well, but to prove to him that Kendrew's choice would not be in vain.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] he began, righting himself once more, "of such words but...aye. My wife is the beginnin' and the end, and so it is. Still..amazed I be tha' she would love me when she could have chosen anyone else." Scratching behind his head, a few strands of long hair fell over his curved fingers as the smile widened in thought of her, "At the Cathedral, once, she stood by the colored glass aye? It gave her angel's wings. Love does this tae a man, n' she has only but to ask, and there is nothin'; I would not give her. Ah married her too, in Aberdeen, in the country, lest she and I ne'er come to marriage. Ah could nay have tha' promise go unfulfilled. Our duty keeps us bound tae here..n' she risks a great much. She is..courageous." With less poetry but no less love did he describe his lady and then sigh. "Were that I could have had such knowledge at your age, lad."[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He replied, patting his shoulder. ``By my life, my Lord, I will not let you down! I will not make you regret your promise. And, I promise to you that I will return you to your gentle wife. You have my word.`` He swore, grasping Kendrew's hand and bowing his head, pressing his forehead to the top of the man's hand he held, swearing himself to Kendew and his promise.[/color][/ul][/FONT]

[strongjustice]

Rage - Present, Meet Past!!

William and Anwen had safely made it back to Glasgow, and had settled back into daily routines. The difference being that now she had arranged guards to follow his grandson and be nearby at all times. Jonathon, the young knight who had kept watch over her last year when she had taken ill, was the one she had put in charge of seeing to the details.

She was dressed as a Lady born and bred would be in a fine velvet gown the color of a midnight sky... her hair had grown a bit and was adorned with jeweled clips William had bought her while in Skye. They were more in love than ever and worked well as a team.

He, since being home, resumed his duties as Lord of the Manor and she.... well she did what she was best at... she practiced daily with Gerard and the Knights and when done took time for herself. Though Gerard was not happy when she went riding without a guard, but none dared to stop the fiery red head.

Dinner was ready and all had gathered to eat the meal when Jonathon approached the head table to speak with the Lord and Lady Maubrey with a daily report. Bowing gracefully he began " M'Lord... M'Lady, I bring distressing news ... it seems the boy is missing as well are two horses. Men are now readying search the outskirts of Maubrey lands." he swallowed hard watching them both worry marring his dark brow. "The stable boy Quinn was found on the floor and was taken to the healers and from there to his kin."

Anwen was taking in all that was being said when William stood...

The stout man, with the gray beard, rose from the table… he moved to the hearth, his hands cupped upon the other at his back… no anger, no shouting, no rage… he simply looked at the messenger. “How could anyone lose a boy his age…?” he turned and looked into the fire. “And no word then? Why are yu here? Find out where he is… and who it was that aided in his escape.”

As the man bowed and left the dining room, William failed to look at anything, or anyone, except the fire. “I know we have traitors amongst us… but who would have the audacity to involve my grandson? He is not a pawn in this vile game we play.” Then he turned and looked at Anwen. “I surmise have a grandson… even one by marriage, if not by blood… and I fear…” he glances back at the fire… “That the man I so wanted to kill and take over his land… is my own son…” he paused… “How could this be? He was dead…”

His stomach churned as his eyes stared deep into the flames… memories of years past flashing in his mind. “All my plans… All my efforts… against this Aberdeen… to find him to be my own son… and…” he silenced his own words, yet his mind continued.

Glancing over his shoulder to Anwen, who had now moved behind him at the hearth, her hand laid gently upon his arm. The sparkling sea-green eyes flashed from her to the fire, his calloused hand moved atop hers. “Ne’r mind… In the early spring… The Bull shall face this Gryphon upon a field of battle… and as he lay upon the ground in his own blood… I shall spit upon the land, a flame that shall ravage from sea to sea… and rid the world of his ideals… and so be it with his family.”

Anwen had rose and followed him to where he stood by the fire and listened as he talked more to himself then her. The hall was still full of people and she had waved off Gerard when he went to go to William, Jonathan had left to do as William said without a word to any.

As long as together they could accomplish anything including ruling Skye... "William... the child will be found as well as whomever helped him... I will see it done. As for the boy’s father... he will soon meet his end and if not your blade then by own." she spoke almost coldly. She could not afford the luxury of emotion toward any but him... for all others were the enemy... prey to be dealt with in the only way she knew.... by her swords. "Aberdeen's family will perish as will he to become dust and a memory." oh yeah the viper was back and her words hit their mark for William's back stiffened she felt the tension within him grow... his muscles twitched.

"Do not let the knowledge that the boy is your grandson or the fact that your son Adam may live cloud your judgment... nor stand in the way of all you have desired to this point. They will die and you ... husband will rule." had she gone to far with speaking her mind.... a thing he had enjoyed in the past??

He snapped around and gave her a glare of discontent… “Cloud my judgment?” his hand had raised to strike her. His ire had spiked and he spoke harshly… “Had yu kept a clear mind, and not let a strapping young lad cloud YOUR judgment, the Clan Robertson would be siding with us, instead of the Aberdeens now…”

The open hand curled into a fist and he pounded the table between them. “Cloud my judgment? Yu have never had any children… yu know not the pain they cause… To desire something and never come to fruition… You are a weapon… MY weapon… to be commanded at MY will…” the table rocked under his force… and with surprising speed, he grabs her collar and pulls her to him… “Aye, the Aberdeens shall die… and the boy Adam shall be by my own hand… and his son too… And yes, I shall rule…”

Skye, and the leadership of that now powerful nation, was a burr under his saddle… and to make things worse… it was HIS own son that caused him such consternation… A son he presumed dead long ago… Already a short-tempered man, the comments she spoke sent him into a rage, that many dared not to venture upon…

The glare in the sea-green eyes sparkled as he held her close… her collar still within his grasp.

Seeing the look in his eyes Anwen's back stiffened a bit for he had never spoke to her in such a manner, and most of all not in room full of people. His words were like a lash against bare flesh, his anger evident... she glanced to the first posed to strike her and her own anger flared to life, blue eyes became icy as did her tone… "M'Lord it was YOU who sent me to seduce Iain Robertson to YOUR side for YOUR gain... I did only as you bid... so do not question my judgment. Let it be known that he never touched me... can you say the same for the whore you companied with? Oh yes I heard all about this Kaori woman." her words were like venom as they dripped from her perfect rose colored lips.

When his large fist hit the table she just stood there unmoved and to the amazement of all unafraid. "Nay I have never had children... " her words trailed as he spoke of what she was like she was no more than a common whore or a child's favorite toy to be played with on a whim. "I am a weapon... and for now, your weapon M'Lord... but know even I have limits of what I can and will tolerate." she glanced to his fist and suddenly inhaled a gasp as he grabbed her collar and pulled her to him. Her eyes flamed blue ice with anger at being treated this way in front of all in the hall.

Gerard stood and made to go to the Lord and lady but was stayed but his wife Gwen's hand on his arm… "You will only make it worse husband... tis not your place she can take care of herself." her words sounded worried and they were for as noble as her husband was she feared William's wrath if he had interfered.

Back straight and eye cold she met his gaze… "Let go of me... William!" the command was soft for his ears alone. Her temper could be as volatile as his own and she had no wish to give the people more of a how then they were getting, but if needed she would defend herself even against him.

“For now?” … he released her with a force that would make her move back a bit. His sea-green eyes darkened with rage. Had she too defied him? What next? His assassination? Those eyes took in the woman in black and red and wondered if his past would come back to haunt him.

William had been so dead-set on destroying the Aberdeens… at any cost… but now he found out HIS own son was the Duke. And somewhere within that stone-cold heart, the captive boy with ebony skin had forged a path to a spot of humanity inside. Now all this was eating at the man, a mind now so confused as to what path he would, or should, take. Before it was all too clear… three quarters of his life was dedicated to conquering Skye… and gain what Alan MacRauri once had… The Lord of the Isles… albeit, William wanted a consolidated realm of the isles, including Eire, Wales, Scotland and England; not just the Hebrides.

Now he threatened to destroy all he had worked toward… and threatened the only love he had ever had…save Murielle. All of this took mere seconds to occur, but the effects would be felt for days… He glanced around the room… as people’s heads soon swiveled to avert his boring eyes, lest they be consumed with his rage… UNTIL he looked at Anwen… He looked down… then turned and walked swiftly out of the large room and headed toward his chambers… the ornate sword of Maubrey swinging by his side.

The rage and anger in his sea-green eyes made her shiver. When he suddenly let go of her she stumbled back against the table hard enough that it would leave a mark. Never had she seen him look at her that way... as if.... as if he could not stand the site of her. Her heart broke but her anger soon encased it in ice once more.

Many of those gathered had turned their gazes away when his swept the room, his sword at his side... feeling humiliated and small she watched as he strode from the room his anger leaving an invisible trail behind him for all to see. Anwen scanned the room her gaze met Gerard's who look shocked by the display that had just occurred. Walking to him like nothing had happened... "Gerard.... I leave this night with those gathered to search for whomever helped the ebony child. Have Azryk saddled and tell the men to wait for me." her words were as cold as the weather outside saying nothing more nor waiting for him to speak she turned and headed for her room to change .

Entering the chamber she shared with her husband, she gathered her two piece leather outfit, cloak, and her swords and said not a word as she did so. She then went to her private solar to change... strapping her twin blades in the scabbard across her back, cloak in hand she descended the stairs and walked out into the bailey where her horse was ready. She looked to Jonathan and nodded; he looked confused by the order that they wait for her. "M'Lady are you sure tis wise for you to come?" he asked with a glance to the window that was the Lord’s room.

She followed his gaze and steeled her heart even more "You can stay if you would like but I leave this night with or without you." her tone flat, no emotion there, and Jonathan was sad for that. "I am a weapon... and a weapon I shall be." she turned to mount but a hand on her arm had her whirling to see who so dared ... It was Gerard. "Anwen, he loves you like he has loved no other it just that he..." she held up a hand to stop his words. "Make no excuses or apologize for him... he made it very clear what I am to him this night a weapon for him alone to command... he does not love anything except power Gerard... I was a fool to believe his words."

Pain and hurt were shining in her eyes... "Tell him if you need to that I leave... I will come back when I have answers." with that she mounted and spurred her mount... soon they were racing from the gates with twelve knights following her.

Her mind raced... had he ever spoke true to her? He looked at her with so much rage and contempt... if she never returned would he notice...? NO! her heart screamed loudly. She pushed her horse and her men hard trying to make up time.... once clear of Maubrey lands she slowed her mount and looked for signs.... tracking something else she was good at.

He did not look at her when she entered the chambers. He wanted to take her by the arms, and throw her upon the bed and make passionate love to her… but pride… and fear… prevented him… Had he pushed her away with more than physical force? Had he irreparably caused her pain… or destroyed something he valued most?

Her departure from the room would not allow her to see him move toward the door, his hand raised to beckon her back… nor his lips poised to ask her to stay… and when she slammed the door… his heart hit rock-bottom. Going to the large window, he could see the bailey from his window… Below, he saw Gerard speaking with her… and her hand raised to cut him off… Then her departure with the knights in pursuit of accompanying the angry woman.

He wanted to call out to her… to urge her quick return to him… but he did not, for he knew it would futile… Once again… rage forced his hand to destroy something he wanted… He paced around the room stopping only to look in a mirror. “What have yu done? Once again you have raged upon what yu desired most. You force away by your actions what you want most by yer side.”

Then he sat upon the bed, the days of yesteryear mixing in with the present. His mind reflecting a conversation of youth. “Murielle… know that I love yu… I care not if yu are married… Your husband is always gone with war… I am always here with you…” and the woman replied… “But William… you are married to Davina… you and her are destined to serve the King of England… I am but the Scot’s Harper… I cannot love you...” A youthful William replied… “But tis you I love true…” Then the door opened and Davina stood in the doorway, a babe in her arms. The tears began to form and drain down the pink cheeks… As her heart broke, and tears stained her face, she turned and ran from the room. William looked to Murielle, and she replied… “Go after her William… I shall never give you what you want… Davina does love you…” William cursed and ran from the room after Davina.

History would never have been written about the love triangle that would divide a nation… of William’s love and devotion for Murielle, the Scot’s Harper… and the love of the ruler's daughter had for the English knight… nor the rage the man had after his love was denounced… rage that would molest the harper... the rage that killed the wife's sister and father, the Lord of the Isles… the rage that would curse a wife and her babe for years... rage that would eventually send them all on a course with destiny.

William sat on the bed, his heart aching for the love he once had… and the love he now feared lost. Would his inner rage once again propel those to meetings with destinies yet unknown??

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

The King's Way, Part III

" But Kendrew was kind and promised to help him obtain it, and Lucius was forever indebted to Kendrew and his willingness to help, knowing full well that he did not have to lend a finger more than he wished to."

"A debt for a debt. Lucius would become the knight and Kendrew would honor the fate that placed him on the same shore as to be saved by the youth who embodied the chivalry of yore that inspired men to lift their swords. "

Kendrew: Kendrew had to collect his thoughts in order to fathom all that was surrounding them on a winter's day. Lucius had a love to tie his heart to; the task of knighthood to aspire to was not an easy one. No stairway to a personal heaven was. "We have quite a lot to do," the elder knight conveyed to the youth, "but it will be done." The light of the day filtered through the facets of cumulous clouds until it poured down to be a sign that better times could be around the corner but the talk of the times grounded him firm to the earth. Behind them, men collected to talk about the impending battles that would have them trecking in the snow. Spring was the fabled hour of war. Age would reveal harrowed line carving in to his brow. The corner of his eyes narrowed to survey courtyard men in the periphereal vision. On listening to what was felt, and traces of what was seen, it was evident that the Knight's mind was working (d)

Lucius Now more than ever before, there was a great deal that was riding upon his success in becoming a knight. Too much was at stake for him to make mistakes, Lucius could not afford to do such. But Kendrew was kind and promised to help him obtain it, and Lucius was forever indebted to Kendrew and his willingness to help, knowing full well that he did not have to lend a finger more than he wished to. Indeed, there was much to be done in so little time, but Lucius was just as dedicated and eager to pt heart and soul into his future occupation as a knight. The sound of other soldiers about had Lucius turn his dark eyes away from Kendrew for a moment, surveying the surrounding areas and catching a glimpse of some soldiers faces. It was easy to see even from here that many of them were burdened down by not simply the pending war upon their backs, but other events that had taken place as well. Hopefully, it would be lifted from them. Dark eyes turned back to Kendrew as hands held the plum cloak about his tall frame more, as if that would keep the chill out of body and heart. How quickly the mood turned somber, and already, Lucius' smile had faded to an expressionless face, attentive to his master. ``I follow you, my Lord,`` Lucius whispered, sincerely.

Kendrew: "Then follow me this way," the Lowlander concured, "Tae the stable here. So we can talk, can nay say it here." A debt for a debt. Lucius would become the knight and Kendrew would honor the fate that placed him on the same shore as to be saved by the youth who embodied the chivalry of yore that inspired men to lift their swords. What name would he take for himself? Kendrew of the Sea was becoming more real by the hour to him. He watched the body of water in the distance beating hard on the shore as if to prod the earth into believing a story it was to tell. Somber visage flickered constantly on the cusp of every smile and the cold rains became him when he traveled. As they moved the weather turned; snow fell faster, harder, and the drifts would surely begin to pile up. Taking notice of this change, men huddled closer to the places of warmth before they could excersise again while under the eves of the stables the Dumfrieshire man began. "After what we have seen, the spring shall only be the height o' it. There is a battle, waitin' to happen." Fingers crossed over the stubble on his chin before crossing arms located the hands beneath each limb. "Lucius, I can nay 'elp but feel there is more tae those passages..." (d)

Lucius: Upon Kendrew's words, Lucius nodded, and after taking a last glance about them, seeing that there were in fact more people than he last recalled, the squire heartily agreed. To the stables then. The white dusting of snow was already settling upon his shoulders and dotting his dark hair, some even managing to stick and linger for a few before melting. The grey clouds seemed to open up even more, for as they moved, more snow seemed to fall from the skies, the overhang, Lucius shook his head, letting the snow that had gathered fall and a hand quickly brushed off the snow from hisshoulders. Brown eyes, at length, settled upon the older knight. A battle? Lucius arched a brow and crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the cloak tighter about him in the process. ``A battle? Outside of the coming war?`` Came his verbal question. Lucius blinked. More to the passages...what could that mean? There were thousands of meanings that could be strung and attached to that statement...what did his master mean? ``More? What do you mean, my Lord?`` Lucius inquired, stepping closer to Kendrew

Kendrew: "There are still people in those passages, it's tae easy, Lucius. We sealed off a passage, but only a part o' it. The men wait for Spring, but there are still signs in the woods, are there nay?" He looked down to the lad's hand. Punctuation to the end of his sentence in the flesh. "Men are missin'. Have nay seen nor heard of Sir Windsor.." Agents in the dark curling up on the stone. In the rooves, fields and such things. Leaning against the walls He ran a hand on the edge of an empty stall. "No. There is still something down there. Out there m'friend. Ah think tis time to go back down." Gloved hands smacked leather against leather to brush the bit of dirt off. The stable wall to him could have been the passage but it wasn't. Still, he began to form plans that played out. Soliders congregted to share opinions, all of which Kendrew was convinced were wrong. Brown eyes mingled with hazel turnedupward to the rafters. (d)

Lucius: There were indeed signs in the woods, one in particular that came to the forethought. It nearly cost him the life of not only his own, but that of a clansman's daughter. The passages they were using somehow had an opening out in the woods...otherwise it made no sense that the men were able to get so close so soon. What if some of the men within Skye were perhaps...the English? Seeds planted until germination came and their time called. If Maubrey was no stranger to Skye, then why would he not have many of his men in places he intended to control? Perhaps it was a thought in the dark, but it did cross his mind and made the squire wonder just how many men of Skye were in fact loyal and patriots of the Duke and Duchess. Blinking away that thought and setting it aside for now, Lucius glanced to Kendrew. ``There are, my Lord. Already they use abandoned homes as their storage holds. I saw weapons, maille, and coat of arms in that old house...places people would not suspect to look...but it would strike me odd at how strangers from the Sea know the lands too well...almost as if they had been here for some time...`` he whispered on the thought, but no longer wish to be found among Skye's loyals? I mean...the English seem to swell in numbers while the Skye military seems to whither...I find that very odd, sir.`` Lucius admitted honestly. Going back down into the passages was not a new concept to Lucius, in fact, he suspected Kendrew could not stay away from the King's Way for too long...there was much still unsaid and undiscovered down there. Lucius nodded. ``Then we shall go back down, my Lord, and perhaps shed some light upon the precarious situations.``

Kendrew: Too much left undiscovered meant that the enemey could already know. Knowledge was power. Power was what Skye didn't have by way of the esoteric, like it thought. Closely guarded secrets were spilled out on the table like emptying a jar of sweets greedy children grabbed for. "Then they are storin' supplies, n' have small 'bases'. A peasent's house draws nay suspicion on patrols. Hidden places can hide everythin' for attacks n' if the houses have stables, they could have the horses o' the dead men..or the men who have turned. Some o' them are dead, certainly..but Pernicus, Taylor..they vanished intae thin air. Mah order knights are thinin'..." Cracking his knuckles, he felt the chill invade his bones...or was that a cold realization of a harsh truth? Month after month they culled traitors. "Maubrey..Maubrey is just the core o' it. The Holy folk o' Rome are comin' here..Lucius. HERE. What other kingdom,Ah wonder, has a stake. What roads are crossin'.." Like wild horses the thoughts ran rampant until he came to the ultimate conclusion." We must gae down, by Spring we will already look on a war tha' looks like Armageddon..." Closed fist hit the wall softly thrice. "Get wot ye will need to take down there with ye." (d)

: And to the idea of storage bases, Lucius nodded. He had seen the beginnings of one in the woods, there was no telling how many more the English had and where they were situated. Lucius could not even fatom just how many other abandoned homes were being used by the English...some might not have been abandoned. The squire sighed. Few were safe these days with the English guarding the roads to distant provinces in Skye where aid could come. ``It would allow them to watch the roads, my Lord...and I fear attempt to isolate Turas Lan...to snuff it out like a candle's flame. I do not think it is possible for men to vanish on an instant...but to change their colours as a leopard changes its spots to blend might be a better explanation.`` And the more Kendrew spoke, the more his words seemed to entertain the notion. But when he mentioned the Holy men of Rome, he frowned instantly. Rome..? His homeland would have such a hand dipped in this foul pot? And Lucius looked down. So much information he was learning day after day...and all at once it seemed. Lucius was trying to stand his not be blown over by such forceful winds. ``My Lord, what I need I carry with me now. Two feet to move me, a sword to defend me, a mind to guide me, and a heart to give me will and courage. I am prepared, my Lord.``

Kendrew: "Then let us waste nay time, Lucius." A force of nature was brewing above Skye that would rip it apart of if these things, these secretive measures weren't taken to ensure the survival. No one knew that Lucius had been attacked just as few knew that Kendrew had investigated for himselves the secrets of his leiges. God spare them! He'd prayed for his sins of violating the sanctity of their trusts but it was necessary. "We can nay give them any more places to conceal their eyes. Tis time tae cut tha', and the neck of the beast, in twain." No heavy armor or weapons would venture down to the Passage of the Kings that their valor and outright determination to live could aid any further. Larger items would slow them down, heavy armor would be suicide. A horse belonged above ground and not below it, and as it was, who could they trust to come with them? No one. There was no one but them. God had a hand in turning Fate; the reason for the day the youth pulled him from the sea would be the same why the elder would see him to be knighted. In one another's company, they had a tendency to survive. He peered around to see if more men had placed themselves on the stairway that led to the enterprise at hand. Finding none, he began his pace (d)

Lucius Dark eyes lifted to gaze at the sky above them, perhaps the last time for the rest of their time together he would behold a natural skyline. Indeed, it was a well kept secret that he had been attacked and nearly captured by the English, but then again with all that was going on, Lucius thought some would not particularly care. Those that mattered were told, and he knew they would do something about it...if not, well then Lucius would have to brave the gates of hell himself and assure a future bride that it was for the best and better of the nation. It was his duty. But he whole-heartedly agreeed with Kendrew: it was time to severe the cord in which these men hung upon. What couldnot be carried and aid their swiftness was left behind. Lucius himself wore only the studded leather brigandine and leather vambraces to protect forearms and wrists. That was all that was needed. With one gloved hand resting uponthe hilt of his sword, Lucius tugged at the sword, and hearing the soft ringing of it pulling from the scabbard, Lucius pushed it back down, glad the blade had not stuck due to the temperatures. The squire followed his night toward the passage they had been down but once before. Glancing over his shoulders, Lucius made sure as well that no unwanted eyes were watching them,so when Kendrew pushed the stone to unlock the secret door, Lucius carefully, quickly, and quietly slipped in behind him, the door closing after him. Lucius found a torch and soaking the head in the oil, a flame was sparked and the torch blazed brightly. Another was lit and Lucius passed it to Kendrew to help light their way

Kendrew: The bowels of the earth were giving birth to horrors that were eating the edges of the world. One frayed edge could be the difference between life or death, so the veteran knight excepted the torch in his hand. The sealing of the stone door pushed the familiar, earthen smell of old dust that they walked through. Clouds of it settled a thin layer on the skin, but this time he walked with the difference of knowing precisely where to encounter the potential enemy. So much of it had to be done by memory that he would become an old man with an astute mind no matter how gray the top of his head. Into the earth he took his brother with him, for the protection of his hands had been a kingly gift from his brother when both men marveled at the coin being given them for being the Duchess' shadow. At the base of the stairwell he turned toward the chamber's archway that still rumbled with the action of the people above. It was darker now, given the cut-aways and long corridors they had sealed off before. "I remember we passed a way tae where they might 'ave once buried their dead. Through tha' way, there may be other fissures where they could be. N' we thought tae run them into the woods....I wonder..if they were already runin' there." Auxillary units formed from a plan executed; pieces of the living aftermath to serve the English cause would be enough to push the Adrenaline of any man. "if men did nay turn, twill be why they ne'er returned." The Lord Marshall had nearly died and the men under Sir Balian talked on the absence of their commander, to which was uncharactersistic of any man of the inner circles. He had almost met his lot in Dumfries, and Dmitri imprisoned for a time...the rot that festered in the scent of the old passages lingered just as much as the literal rank ofbetrayal did the deeper into the bowels they went. Maubrey, or any other assailant for that matter, had help. It didn't matter whom they worked for nor why anymore, only that the hydra's heads had to be cut down (d)

Luicus The last bit of light from the outer world had been shut off and all that remained of it was the faint cloud of dust that came with the door's closing. Lucius immediately knew his duty of making torches for them to see by, and with that task done, both men set out down the pathway. Lucius held the torch in front of him, casting a glow of light to the stone that they passed as eyes travelled all around them, as if to visually absorb what they saw. Eyes peered down the dark corridor, the darkness seemed endless for light could only travel so far. Dark eyes turned to Kendrew. ``They must be...for the woods are vast and it is easy to become lost...or conceal yourself there. My Lord...I wonder now if they seek to guard the paths to Skye's outer realms...to restrict support. You said there were routes that stretched from coast to coast in all directions..they will block passages above the ground and make contact near impossible..with small unknown bases here and there...I fear that I could not find a primary base, for it would have costed my life and endangered another..`` Lucius feared he would not have been captured, but killed for being of little use for the English. Lucius took a deep breath, and looking closer upon the side of the wall, Lucius noticed something faint..as if years of old age had weathered it. ``Look! My Lord..this stone..this one here...it is different than the others...a far redder tint...than those around it..`` He said, his hand moving from the hilt to tap the stone in the wall he was speaking of

Kendrew: " Tae have control of the ground above by the way below. To bring in anything from men to ships, tae come tae any city, any village. N' tae stop our allies from being of any aid. You're right. Time is shorter than we thought n' as the Duchess grows rounder n' our men fewer..we would be dead e'en before Maubrey came." He touched a smooth piece of stone and wondered who had touched it in the centuries before him. What campaigns had carried men to design so far down? "Ye are more useful n' welcome alive, Lucius. Do nothin' above ground, iffn ye can help it, tha' would put ye in danger such....aye now? Why is tha' stone like this?" He came over quickly to investigate, leaning forward as he offered up his torch above them to lend more light. "N' look in the corner..I think the stone is marked with somewot." (d)

Lucius: Lucius frowned, and for a moment, he silently wondered if he would ever come from this alive. With such knowledge of this planned attack to starve and snuff out Skye, Lucius wondered just how this war and these battles would come. Would there been any hope of him returning to his future wife? Would his promise be broken? Well...he promised her he would return..dead or alive, he would be sure to do such thing, or try to. True, he was more useful alive, or so " he liked to think. Or hoped, for that matter. ``I'll try not to, sir. I rather like the sound of seeing those I care about again.`` He replied, before the seemingly painted stonetook his attention. Brown eyes followed Kendrew's line of sight, and sure enough, the corner was marked. ``Could all the routes be marked by those of the past? If this passage is as vast as you said...it would be terribly confusing to know which way to go...or which tunnel to take...`` Lucius said, pressing his lips together for a moment. ``Do you think Maubrey or his agents notice such a thing, or do they run about like rats and miss such an unsual marking?``

Kendrew: "Maubrey does nay strike me as a man who would miss detail but only he'd notice it. Save for a few choice folk, ye see how disposable his men are tae 'im." Left in the tunnels to either find a way out or to die trying, the crazed English loyalist would no doubt have changed sides if presented the true chance to do so. "But I dae think...someone else placed them there." Finger pointed, waved. "Old rulers. N' passed down aye. Ah think, Lucius..Ah think there must 'ave been an old map once, but surely tis lost now..or if it is hidden...where would it be?" He touched the corner marking, graduating to another stone that slipped under his finger pads until it twisted to the left. A choking muffled sound ensued as the stone grinded against wood to open. Left hand would rest on the hilt of the sword with no trusting for what could be on the other side. Putting his torch out to meet the darkness first, he found the beginning of a self of sorts. A box of wood was rotting with the ages, the stone face once covering it pulled away. (d)

lucius: Lucius nodded and glanced back to the stone. Would Maubrey relay such valuable information to his troops? If you left people dumb and ignorant, they would follow you blindly. Blind fools were disposable; Kendrew was right. ``Perhaps he would prefer to keep such to himself...after all blind followers are the most loyal and disposable. Maubrey cannot risk men questioning him..he would lose his power and vise-like control.`` Lucius uttered, before his eyes turned back to Kendrew's moving hand. When the stone moved, Lucius tensed and his hand went back to the hilt of his sword as he stepped back. But what it revealed...was an aged shelf with an even older box. Lucius blinked, and offered t take Kendrew's torch so the man could examine the box and his latest discovery

Kendrew: "Aye. N' power and control he has. Out on the field dae ye remember how those in his command spoke o' him? Like he was the damned King. Makes me feel a might sorra for King Edward." He was about to have his reign toppled right beneath his nose at the rate he was going, at least they weren't ignorant of it and fought. An overpowering, dank smell assaulted them upon entry into the room where some boxes had held things, now nothing. But this one was heavy as he reached up and slid it along. Grunting, he shifted it far forward enough that the weight of the wood nearly toppled down by help of gravity, but he caught it. Easing it on a low stoop he began to shuffle through what seemed only dust until he chanced upon a little place in the box, once opened, toppled out earth. "What in the....God." He found a human bone, and another! Skulls, pieces of vetebrae, femurs were jammed inside. Perhaps it was a catacomb of some sort, and religious men are loathed to disturb the dead. "Put yer torch up higher.." If one looked up, the long shelf was indeed stone slabs were some were covered with a smooth stone holding names, old effigies in Gaelic. Some with time were torn away, perhaps for jewels or out of merely the earth shifting with life over time. Ruins of old tapestry swung thick with ancient webbing, and at the top of the ceiling was the eight pointed ' North Star' emblem that the Duke now wore pinned to his vestments...some bodies had evidently, and most, were placed inside with care. Going further in after settling the box gently down, he noticed how everything save a box or two was lovingly engraved. "Ah think...they were hidden here, whomever they were Lucius..It could be tha'...someone else..others...met the same fate." Reminscent of a dream he spoke, that distant consideration of discovering a place that even in the situation invoked great awe. Little was it known, but somewhere in that room, they were being watched (d)

Lucius: order to trap the man. Pride...it could be a useful downfall. ``From the lies he tells...Maubrey acts it, or thinks that he will be the savior of Skye...a title that sounds goods to unsuspecting ears.`` Lucius noted, hearing one ortwo of Maubrey's recruiting speeches. Nonsense. The people had no idea that Maubrey was setting staged events to make him look more glorified and take the credit and work of the ruling royalty. The foul stench had his nose wrinkle in disgust, but Lucius held back a gag. Lucius watch curiously as Kendrew picked up the box and then when opening it, soil and dirt came from it. Lucius frowned, but his eyes widened at the skeletal remains that came toppling from it! At Kendrew's command, Lucius nodded and lifted the torch higher, shedding more light and sure enough, there were more like it. But why would someone hide bodies in here? ``It does not make sense..why someone would be buried here and not int he tomb of kings and nobility. Could...could the dead be guarding a secret? Who would want to hide bodies here?`` He asked softly, eyes looking over the names, though he could not read Gaelic, and silently, he wished that Siobhan was here to lend a machette to the language of the Celts thicket.

Kendrew: "This is the tomb of kings n' nobles, sae then ye are right..why hide them here...sae tha' means only but less than one..or two, would have done so. The dead hide the dead..n' the secrets with them. So these tunnels were once known by the court then or there would be nay bodies here." Kendrew, alas could do no more with Gaelic than a few choice words. His Siobhan would have been an angel if she could have read it, and Beathag was certainly in no condition to play the part. "Maubrey was married ye see, tae the old King's daughter, Davina. He would have inherited this had the man nay refused tae allow any but his daughter tae have the right. EIther she would be the Lady o' the Isles under Scotland, a Queen in her own right. He married her when she was in hidin', in England. All his other children were slaughtered n' his wife to. In time it was only himself n' a few others left. This is what the Duke 'as told me, n' the Duchess told me her mother was found out to be the High Harper of Scotland, and came tae the Isles 'ere. Sae, the King had then not one Aberdeen woman, but two. Davina and Beathag's mother, the Lady Murieal by then beh distant parts o' the same family..ye know tha'in Scotland. Many names, many branches n' one name. They were from the same two tribes m'thinks at the river.." He scoured over the boxes though they couldn't read them. Would anything stand out? "Some think tha' he killed the old King n' his youngest daughter, Adam's aunt, when they were in the Cathedral in the city.." History was as important as learning the sword, because it was the legacy of what they protected. Albeit, the legacy now was rather macabre. "Look...look there! these two are nay in boxes, but they've stone o'er them..tis a little open but..." He crossed himself, "We should push them off, see if they can tell us anythin" (d)

Lucius: These bodies were separated from the other nobles and high courts that lie in their tombs above the grounds. So then, why hide bodies here unless they were never to be discovered. Lucius did not understand fully. Lucius sighed softly, wishing he could lend a better hand. Perhaps if he returned from the war and to his Siobhan, she could teach him the language that seemed to run so deeply in these lands. But as Kendrew spoke on, Lucius listened very carefully to the story and history of Skye. Lucius loved history, so to learn of the past for Skye, well it was a true treat for him. Eyes turned to the boxes carved of stone, and he blinked. Why were they cast in stone and the others in wood? Strange...as if these dead were to be protected and never disturbed. ``It is as if these in stone were to be protected...`` He whispered. With his back to the wall, it was hard to see the figure in the shadows that watched them and silently slipped out to gather more men to dispose of intruders who did not seem to be of Maubrey's men. Setting the torches into the holders on the wall, his gloved hands were now free and Lucius moved over to the stone tomb to help Kendrew push the lid off, which was considerably heavy.

Kendrew The stone effigy was old, but not as old as the writings on the wall. How much less had the risen monuments been there than the other graves? Secrets died on closed mouths that turn to skulls with no tongues to speak. It was hardindeed, to notice the numbers were growing around them, and they were only two. But the past was so consuming the present was left alone to fend by itself. He groaned, having to bare down hard against his legs and offer his shoulder to help push the stone. In time, it gave way to the floor with a defeaning thud, cracking it slightly. If they could have seen the portrait atop it, they would have not needed to look inside to a corpse. A corpse? The torches above cast light down on the form of a woman with sunken in cheeks. Her face was the color of death, a death that had taken her many years before. Only in a few places had the skin puckered or the dress she wore eaten with age.."I've ne'er..Lucius...she's preserved.." But surely she had been dead for years and not weeks, but...what agents do men use to keep the portraits of death. No one else was like this, surely, so was it only them? And why? Were it not for the need to know, he would have backed away to leave the dead alone. Her lips had been painted to be forever pink, and her hair was strewn about her, and dark in color. Clutched at her breast were thick, folded parchments. "Christ forgive me for distubing the dead given you.." Prayer aided his hands in reaching forward to the curvature of hand and breast to pull loose the parchment. Upon opening, the message was in English! While the men began to gather, the unsuspecting would read:

Letter: " I am killed by he that claimed to love me, and she is killed by him who loved me. The truth is lost now, but if it is found in these words surely someone, one day, will be saved. He will live on far past me, for he had his wish.Gods spare the world, he will live on far longer than many. His Lady wife was dying before my eyes when last I found her after many years. He said she was dead but I believed it not, but when I came to Aosta, it was too late. Poor Davina! If I die, w hich I shall it is by the wound given me and the sickness of the dank that plagued me after these months agone. It will be in a way that will never go beyond my lips and the great promise I had to tell my children will be lost. We are lost. Turas Lan, and Skye, are lost. I am sorry that I have failed you..."

Kendrew: Reading this letter aloud, his brow knitted hard. But if she were killed..why was she preserved, and if she was preserved.the woman beside her too? What killer affords such lavish, macabre final tokens? "The other one. Come on Lucius.." He had given the papers to Lucius to read over, too...(d)

[Lord Eamonn of Eohmark]

Sudden Discoveries
AMBUSH..THE ROADS ARE BEING WATCHED..

SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` He bellowed, as the sound of zipping arrows whizzed past his head. Riders struck by arrows cried out in pain as horses shrieked in terror at the surprise. Men jumped out of hidden holes, some with bows while others came charging with swords, axes, or clubs. Eamonn frowned deeply, and as he turned Finbar around, he pulled his booted foot from the stirrup and a hard kick made the foolish man's head snap back as his body toppled backward. Twirling the spear in his hand, Eamonn thrust it up into the tree where one archer tried to hid, only to scream in agony as the tip impaled his side. Snatching it out, Eamonn jerked forward, feeling an arrow lodge itself into the back of his shoulder, sending hard jolts of pain down his spine. Gritting his teeth together, eyes turned about to glance over the little men he had with him, who were caught by surprised, some on the ground being stabbed, others fighting for their lives and that of their horses. ``FALL BACK! FALL BACK TO THE CITY!`` He commanded, and as he turned his head, a body slammed into him hard, the force enough to surprise Finbar and send all three toppling to the ground. Snap. The shaft of the arrow broke and drove the projectile deeper into his shoulder, causing a guttural cry of pain to come out. With one leg trapped under Finbar's side, he could not move anywhere. The horse kicked and whined, grunting loudly as the horse tried to shake the fighting man off of him so he could get off his rider. Eamonn grabbed the man's wrist, stopping the dagger from slipping between the space between his helm. The two struggled, but Emaonn eventually head-butted the man, enough time to stun him before wrenching the dagger from his hand and stabbing him with it. Finbar took that time to get up, and rising, the horse began to move, but Eamonn's foot was stuck in the stirrup. Finbar dragged Eamonn, spooked as arrows flew by, other riders trying to escape their own battles, while others were risking their lives trying to get to him. ``FINBAR! STOP!`` He called, the dragging ripping that wound even more, sending countless jolts of pain up and down his body. Eamonn tried to sit up and pull his foot out, and finally managed to as Finbar halted. The Marshal loosened his foot long enough to glance up and see an axe aimed for his head! Eyes widening, Eamonn rolled and tried to get to his feet, but a swift kick to the face made blood pour from his mouth as he hit the ground again. Blinking, he sneered and thank the gods that Finbar came charging back, ramming into one, giving him enough time to get up. Whipping out his sword, Eamonn stabbed the man with the axe, shoving him to the ground and elbowing another in the stomach. Another arrow wormed its way into his backside, just missing his spine. Grunting, Eamonn glanced around and seeing one of his riders fighting for his life, Eamonn climbed back up onto Finbar. As he passed by, Eamonn swung his sword across the soldier's backside, severing the spine. ``RIDE! BACK TO THE CITY!`` He shouted, and wheeling Finbar again, the Marshal was about to go, but the men vastly outnumbered them, many of his men either dead in the surprise or fled as they were commanded. They descended on him, Arrows flying by. One grabbed the reins, but was kicked off by Eamonn and bit by Finbar. A soldier with a club slammed it into Eamonn's chest, nearly knocking him off the horse, but Eamonn held on as he gasped for air. Bringing that sword down, the clubman paid for his hit, and as Finbar barreled through, one last archer had been lucky to land another into Eamonn's backside, near the first arrow wound that had been wrenched and worsened from the dragging and falling. Slumping against Finbar and struggling to breath, as the chainmail bit hard into the gambeson and his shirt and flesh, the dapple-grey stallion raced into the city's limits where the men in the woods would not follow. Blood dripped down his chin and mouth as he struggled to breath as silently as he could stifle it, and once Finbar stopped before the infirmary, a guard ran over to help the Marshal down. ``Take him...to the stables...`` Eamonn wheezed huskily, gloved fingers unbuckling the helm from his head as he moved up the steps slowly, his leg aching from Finbar falling onto it, causing a slight limp. Nothing felt broken...but it hurt terribly among with worse injuries. Some of his riders had made it back, thankfully, and were getting medical attention. Good. But those men in the woods...he could not save them...and that weighed on Eamonn's heart, the fact that he could not go back and retrieve their bodies. The blonde Marshal pushed the door open and stumbled in, his jaw already turning red under blood and hair from the kick to the face.[/color][/ul]


LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` She spoke firmly as she moved her hands up and Roac took charge, rolling the parchment up carefully and tucking it into his duffle to the side of his body where he found it most safe. Dressed in a long gown of blue with a gray corset made of soft materials about the front and laced in the back, with her hair pulled into the long braid that nearly reached her ankles, she was keeping to the word of her husband, without complaint.[/color][/ul]

LADY PHYSICIAN

[/b]``[/color][/ul]

LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]``[/color][/ul]

SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` He whispered, drawing in a slow, deep breath.[/color][/ul]


LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` She paused in her words as she wondered how many men were lost. Slowly she moved the front layers of his attire, only a few items had to stay because of the arrows. When she was done, the tray of tools were picked up as she moved behind Eamonn's body and knelt on the bed. ``Hold the bed. Ah am going to remove the arrows. This one be close to ye spine..ye be lucky once more husband. How many men were lost?`` Already she was moving a tool that looked like crab's claws, up towards the arrow that had been broken and pressed down, making the wound much larger then the entry size. It was among the easier to pull out, even though not less painful. With care, she inched it out, one hand bracing Eamonn's back while the other held on to the device. The arrow was of a normal head. Triangle and blunt, which meant there were no teeth to snag along an organ and cause more internal damage. It was placed to the side on a linen wrap while she went for the other. This one had to be pulled slowly, to find out which way the arrow was facing. Aislin had to ignore any sounds of pain her husband may have given as she used her fingers to spin and twist the arrow head around so it was straight up and down inside of him, not side to side before she pulled it back out the same way it went into his flesh and muscles. Blood poured from both wounds like an over flowing goblet of wine making Aislin curse softly as she hurried to apply pressure to the wounds, using both hands. Another healer had knocked upon the door, to which Aislin had told them to come in and help her with his wounds. As she looked over the larger one, the male healer pressed his hands to the smaller one by Eamonn's spine, making sure it had pressure upon it. Aislin wasted little time getting the whiskey and cleaning out the larger wound of dirt and debrie, making sure to pull crushed leaves and rocks from inside of it before she cleansed it out and then sowed it up. [/color][/ul]

SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` He answered. Gloves had long since been cast aside as he leaned forward and waited for Aislin to pull the arrows from his backside. The one that had worsened by abuse was perhaps the worse in amount of pain for already it had been moved about, ripping the hole more and making it bleed freer than the others. Large hands gripped the sides of the cot tightly. One close to his spine? Eamonn rolled his eyes. It could be worse. ``I do not know...I could not see how many escaped...`` He wheezed out, before closing his eyes and gritting his teeth as the arrows were pulled one by one. Taking a deep breath, Eamonn heard the knock on the door and his eyes shot open, not wanting others other than his wife, but he said nothing, Aislin knew what she was doing. Once the three arrows were pulled out completely, Eamonn felt the whiskey and muscles tensed as he hissed.[/color][/ul]


LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` Pulling back the cloth, she had cleaned most of the blood away, but the damage was done. Already his jaw was bruising up and his lips busted open, though healing itself. Kneeling down between his legs, she washed the cloth and used it on his jaw once more, carefully. The hot water touched the skin, pain and ease at once as the smell of mint lingered. ``Ah will be staying longer in Turas lan then?``[/color][/ul]


SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` He said softly, eyes following her as she moved between his legs. Nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of mint, though the pressure of the towel hurt and made him tense. ``Yes...The roads are too dangerous for you or anyone else...``[/color][/ul]


LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` Did he understand what she meant? More then likely not, but now he would never be angry with her for not telling him. [/color][/ul]

SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` Eamonn asked bluntly, hands leaving the cot and while one grabbed her wrist to stop her from further wiping his face, his other grasped her arm gently. Aislin had his full attention.[/color][/ul]

LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]``[/color][/ul]


SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b][/color][/ul]

LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b] It was about respect and knowing Eamonn would have been so confused, hurt and lost had it come up and he had no prior knowledge. Now, he would be angry, but he would know the reasons. When Eamonn asked her about the passage ways and then about things that were strange, Aislin actually took a moment to think on it as she stared into her husband wide hazel eyes. ``Aye, many things. There have been many people coming in sick with fever and the illness of the animals. Ah believe a few passing Roman's called it rabies. It makes animals mad and sick, attacking anything that be coming close to them or that they be seeing. Humans..it be making the same before killing them. There be rumors..as ah said of the church taking matters into their own hands. Some guards had vanished from their watches and have nay been heard from. The city be looking as if it is calm, but something is nay right Eamonn. Ah be feeling it. The injuries coming in here are mostly from animals..some large. The other day, there was a man with a wound upon his side.. Eamonn..the wolf that did that to him had to be as big as a horse..have ye spoken to yer sister? ``[/color][/ul]

SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b] His tone might have been flat and somewhat waning, but he cared, and only Aislin knew of that. Eamonn listened carefully to his wife as she told him of things happening in the city, things that made that frown linger on his features. Rabies and illness taking wing, guards disappearing, who knew what else. Something was not right, and Eamonn had a sure bet that it was Maubrey...that vile sack of horse chyt. How he wished he could have killed him when he had the chance..and many times he had opportune moments. Bess and Adam dragged their feet and let the man breath, now he was poisoning the people of Skye. ``No, I have not had time to stay in this city long. I have been fighting, nearly every damned day in the cold and winter. A pocket here, a pocket there. All those associated with that wretch Maubrey. Wolves I have crossed, but these wolves were mad with hungry and eyeing the horses at night. Other than that...nothing...and certainly not as big as a horse.`` None that he had seen, anyway. ``Aislin...listen well to me. Stay close to your men, do not stay in the castle. I warned Bess not to remain there, but she refuses to listen to me. Stay in the inn, anywhere else but the castle. You go NO where alone. I would be with you if I could, but alas I cannot.`` And his hand released her wrist, only to grasp her chin gently. ``I will not have my wife falling into the hands of this chaos. I need you, Aislin. If you see anything strange...odd...troubling..send for me. I will come as fast as I can. The roads are being watched, wife. It is as if they are trying to isolate Turas Lan. If I could get you out of here...away from danger...I would..`` However, he knew that she had a duty here to help the injured, she was needed here. Eamonn understood that even though he did opening voice such. His fast softened somewhat as he stared at her, before his eyes turned away and he released her chin. ``Finbar fell on my leg when a man jumped on me, it does not feel broken, but it is in great pain. I need your eyes to tell me what is wrong with it.`` He said, quickly changing the topic and sitting up a bit straighter.[/color][/ul]

LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` She would do just that and send a man to him. She knew he needed her to keep him whole and sane when no one else could stand his wrath or temperament. If she left him now, he would truly be alone with only his children to love him. It was not a bad thing. ``Perhaps they are Husband. Could we be falling right into their traps? We must all keep our eyes open more.`` Aislin was not afraid to die, but her children had nothing to do with these wars. Would they be cast out, left for dead? She did not wish that, nor to have Eamonn come back to her dead. What she lacked, he had and while it was a very extreme temper and passion for his duties, it was better then none at all. She stared into his eyes, watching them soften and his face look different. She knew that look, the bleeding emotion that built so much one could not hide it. When he looked away and spoke, she was still looking to him. A hand rose to pull his face gently back towards her own, before she leaned forward and softly kissed the corner of his lips were the wound from them being busted was not held. Eyes closed softly for a moment as she tasted his sweat and blood and felt the warmth of his flesh, before she pulled back and looked to his leg, changing the topics as quickly with him, not dragging it out. With care, she removed the guards and felt about the leg, looking for any bones that were sticking out in the wrong place. None, but his muscle felt very tense and swollen. Leaning over more, the wealth of her braid slid to the floor, so the lacing of her corset was exposed. ``Nay husband..it nay be broken. Ye muscles be swollen from the impact and ye may have twisted them as well. Put as little pressure on it as ye can for the next few days. Is Finbar in need of care?``[/color][/ul]

SIR EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/b] Only Aislin and his sister had ever seen the passing of raw emotion, emotion that was not simply anger, stoism, or bitter apathy. There was more..what he hid behind the walls he learned to keep through his years as a soldier. Eamonn did not expect the kiss, so when she pulled his face toward her with a hand and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, Eamonn was surprised. But instantly his eyes closed, lashes lowering as he pursed his lips somewhat and kissed her back. It did not matter how frantic his mind was, her kisses always seemed to make the world stop and all that linger be them. How? How could she do such so quickly and with but mere touch? A mystery to the warrior, even as she pulled back and began to examine his leg. Swallowing hard, Eamonn pressed his lips together somewhat, though it hurt with the cut lip, and turned his eyes to the wall behind her. The greaves were removed and her hands began to feel his leg, which hurt. Muscles stiffened though he steeled himself from giving indication of pain. He was glad that it was not broken..that was good news to her. But as little pressure..that would be hard considering he would have to be walking about and riding. Perhaps he would be grounded here for a few days after all. Eamonn nodded. ``I will try. It seems I will be lingering in the city for a bit longer than I intended. Finbar is well...a bit shaken from the overwhelming ambush...but well.`` He said simply, before eyes lowered to her once more.[/color][/ul]

LADY AISLIN CREED OF EOHMARK

[/b]`` Removing his over greaves, she relieved the pressure from his body even more so blood could flow comfortablely. ``Do nay lay down for a bit..at least a bit longer. Ye may sit back and stretch yer leg out. I'll go get some more mint to place upon the muscles and relax them.`` And off she went, out the door, closing it behind her, to find more things for her husband.[/color][/ul]

[Exuent.]

[/FONT]

[Sir Lucius MacLeod]

The King's Way, Part IV
WHAT MYSTERIES LAY UNCOVERED IN THE MOST UNLIKELY OF PLACES..

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He asked, just as stunned as the older knight beside him. And then, his eyes drifted to the parchment in her hands, which carefully had been removed by Kendrew. Moving closer to Kendrew, Lucius peered over the man's shoulder to glance at the paper written in English! Whoever this maiden of the stone was, she wanted that letter to be understood. ``Even from Heaven she speaks to us, my Lord...`` He whispered, trying to read over the letter as well before Kendrew handed it to him fully. Quickly he took the paper and his eyes glanced over it, reading quickly what had been scribed in ink. Frowning, Lucius Folded the paper and glanced down to the side of the tomb. A name engraved. Suddenly, an idea struck him. Glancing around, Lucius picked up one of the splinters of wood, and tucking the letter against his belt for safe keeping, Lucius grabbed the torch from the holder and moved back over to the stone tomb. ``The Duchess...perhaps she can read what we cannot..`` He uttered aloud before lighting the piece of wood he found, reducing it to ash. The ash he rubbed on engraving that named the woman inside the tomb, until it became dark with the ash from the splinter of wood. Placing the torch back into the holder on the wall, the letter was pulled out and he unfolded it again. Using the plain side of the paper that had nothing written, Lucius pressed it down on the ashened engraving, which acted as a stamp to capture the name in a language neither he nor Kendrew could decipher. Pressing down and gently rubbing it, the paper was picked up and seeing that the image had transferred, the letter was folded the other way to protect the ash image of the name. With care, it was tucked into his leather studded brigandine for safe keeping against his chest. With that task done, Lucius moved back to Kendew's side to help him with the second stone tomb.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] The stain of blush on her mouth was indicative of forget-me-nots that never wilted; roses that never could die gave off no fragrance but pulled the men close to be admired. Even the thickness of her hair was apparent around the sallow cheekbones and wizening neck. Mystery after mystery encountered would compile knowledge that only the chosen could unlock. Only the chosen would know how to read the ancient scripts or bring light a name to go with Death's frozen, pretty face. "Some practice tha' no poor man would e'er dream of," he'd remarked at the word embalm. It was not one thing he was familiar of, but could deduce from it that it meant to keep whole somehow. The effect was almost un-natural to him. A witch cast a spell on them to prevent the decay. "God meant us tae return to the dust to become as dust, and e'en the others within this room have done that....there are others.." Gloved hand swept outward to where the stone was shaped to curve outward. Jutting faces were the same as the risen stone. He would not admitt his apprehension nor the slight chill that gripped at his spine in this place. A place where secrets were kept in the hope of being found because the ones who could have spoken on them should have never been here before there time...or maybe...at all. Scrawling scripture was befuddling as Lucius captured a token of the woman's name, he looked long at her face. Familiarity was not something he could place and he wondered if he would have wanted to know if she had been? In battle, a man questioned how mortality effected him but intospection comes to all. Cobwebs fell on their backs and pieces of stone crumbled from moorings seeming hidden. Nothing was thought on it, for the room was old. The shadows hid the footstep that came close over the ledge and almost gave position away. Bracing himself along the opposite wall, he helped procure an opening into the second tomb. "Her sister, maybeh? Look...the hair be dark, on both their heads. She was the smaller o' them," There was a grace captured in the posing of her limbs, a slenderness of the hands that seemed bones were too easy to crush. The gown she wore held a bit of the horror that had carried her here. Old blood, thought skillfully hidden in the darkest cloth at her hips. "Skye is a secret, Skye is a tomb." Hazel eyes drunk in the reactions of his associate. "It can nay go this way again. There will be no art like this put on Our Lord n' Lady nor all her kin before there time. Already they've come far tae close.. we all have." It was then, if you listened closely, one thought the stone began to moan.[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He added onto Kendrew's words before fingers pressed against the stone lid of the second. Digging his heels into the ground and stone, Lucius pushed with all his strength and paired with Kendew's the two managed to open the second to reveal another maiden whose features were similar to that of the first. Lucius blinked and could not help but stare. ``Sir...could not his Davina? The women mentioned in the letter?`` He asked, curious all the same as he gazed upon the woman's lifeless body, noticing the aged blood still staining her gown. A tomb indeed, filled with murder and lies..mysteries that the grand architect of this design wanted to be silenced forever. Lucius frowned deeply, swelling pity and sympathy for the secrets that the two women carried with them. Brown eyes turned to Kendrew. ``Then we shall make sure that does not happen, my Lord...it would be a great shame to have these women die in vain and their warning so plainly written continue to go unheard of.`` There, something moved. Out of the corner of his eye Lucius saw a shadow moving...but this shadow did not belong to him or Kendrew for they were standing still. Then who...? Lucius turned around, seemingly just in time as the darkly clad stranger swung the dagger, missing Lucius' throat and as the squire jumped back, the blade sliced across his upper arm, cutting the linen tunic and flesh to stain the torn edges in crimson. With that jump, Lucius backed into the tomb, but quickly spun around it to fall back against the stone wall. Dark eyes widened as the enraged stranger--upset he missed the first time--pulled out a sword to swing. Lucius ducked, dropping low to the ground and with a swift kick to the man's knee, crippled the stranger long enough to scramble to his feet and grab the closest thing he could: the torch. The man got up, and Lucius swung the torch, threatening to burn the man as he jumped back from the flames. Kendrew![/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] He wanted to promise these women and any whom they found here justice would be done. As it was, the shadows at last gave up those that wanted nothing more than for the pair of warriors to join the eternal dead. Suddenly, Lucius was taken aback! The veteran knight pulled his steps back as to give Lucius the room to maneuver. Soon, he was locked in a conflict of fire and metal. "Lucius!" Just as he put a hand to his sword, he felt the air grow colder as above him a wind blew. His hair was snipped by the end of a blade, his back narrowly avoiding the downward cut. How long had the enemy been over them? In his right line of sight he caught a line of men moving off but could do nothing but engage in combat. The pair of men ran around the tomb of the letter-bearer. Again, the stones began to moan..or was it the oncoming battle? There was only two of the Court's devoted, and the enemy seemed to be a spawn in these halls.[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He shouted, electing to be the rearguard for his knight. Using the torch as a distraction, Lucius swung it, but then followed through with his sword, feeling the tip sink into a solid body. Thrusting it farther into the man's chest, Lucius drove him back, but kicked him off the tip of his sword to send the bleeding man falling backward and into a few of his own men to fall like dominoes or at least give them time to head toward the doorway.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] A dagger tried to plunge into his waist but was felled by an upward blow of his closed fist. Kendrew wore no armor. His armor was his skill, a few pieces of leather, and Lucius. Just as the entrance was viewed, it began to be blocked again by approaching three. He drove the man at his left into the wall. Elbowing his gut, he stuck his sword in the fleshiest part of a shoulder. The body was pushed off the sword and into an approaching pair to make them stumble and fall. "Watch yourself!" He reached over and pulled Lucius tighter to him as large bricks were pushed down onto their heads. Whoever this was, no one wanted them to leave because this would be the second time they escaped. Stones groaned and the tombs in front of them began to shake apart. As the bodies clashed and fought, ahead of them two more were revealed...only they were recent..so recent they might have been alive.[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

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SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

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SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b][/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He insisted, before turning to lead the way now down the passage way and to the door they came from. Now, Lucius had to be Kendrew's guard completely, not to mention light their way so they did not run into any more surprises.[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b][/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] He looked over to Lucius, and nodded. Anything to seal this entrance here..anything! It would leave the knights and this survivor with a way out, but not the enemy[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b][/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b][/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He asked, glancing from the man to Kendrew.[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b] The pair were raised together by this man so it was only natural he referred in that sense to the only father any of them knew, for in this he hardly realized she was different. She was his mother's child, and he loved her the best of all of his siblings. "But..we fought in the rebellion out in the roads, m'nephew..n'..Ah..ah came searchin' but after sailin'.out o' Andrews, we came tae Rona but we were held off..in....here.." The rest of his story fell a'may to to the trama endured at being declared the living dead. "M'nephew.." His face contoured as he looked to Lucius, gripping his hand hard as if in silent pleading to say do not leave my kindred in this place.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b][/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] Looking beyond the antechamber, it was evident that all of them were all the living left. So he retraced his steps and found he had to drag the lad along until he found a place that allowed him the leverage to lift him. Coming toward the feeble glow of the blocked fire beyond them..he returned with a man in his arms who could not have been much older than Lucius. If he lived was a mystery, though he moved not. It seemed his breath was feeble at bests and the environment had been hard on the youth. Still, the knight furrowed his brow. "Look, Lucius." Deep, rumbling bass as he offered the boy to lay down with them. His hair? As fevered a pitch of gold as ever sat on Eamonn or Beathag's heads. His eyes lulled open to reveal a shade of sinking, sick green before falling away to sleep again. "This is deep, n' ugly, and vicious.."[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He asked Kendrew, his voice lowered and slightly husky.[/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] he whispered as if the stones would scream about the injustice kept below Turas Lan, "Nor dae we read Gaelic. Nor can this be finished alone. We are gaein' tae have to reveal wot is known, n' we have no choice but to tell our Lady. M'heart sinks to think on who the others are.." There was nothing else they could do here because the solutions lay above ground. Wounds had to be tended, the near dead made to live and speak. "Help him up, he may be able tae walk out o' the passages but this one will na ybe walkin', I'll put him o'er me back."[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b][/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/color][/ul]

MYSTERIOUS CAPTIVE

[/b]He was aching in body, but his heart would fall to his feet if the boy didn't live. How could he appear before his kin with his responsibility so undone? [/color][/ul]

SIR KENDREW OF DUMFRIESHIRE

[/b] He shook his head as he hefted the weight of the young man over him. "Wars of sword we can fight. It seems we will learn o' one made out o' pure hatred n' vengence. You may be m'voice Lucius in places I send ye, with Brom, should none believe ye. Tell your Siobhan to look fast, n' look well. Have any of the MacLeod men began tae vanish?"[/color][/ul]

LUCIUS, SON OF BOLVERK

[/b] He said, nodding to the man. ``Lean on me, sir, I will help you, I do not mind your weight.`` The squire offered, before lifting his head and turning brown eyes to Kendrew. The war. Lucius frowned, but said nothing in regards to it. It was here..upon their very doorstep. But to serve as the mouth of Kendrew? Was he worthy of such an honour? He blinked, swallowing hard and nodding. ``I will serve you well, my Lord.`` Lucius replied before the mention of Siobhan had him pausing. The very mention of her name had his heart stopping and thoughts zipping off to her for a moment...her sweet face entering his mind, before he quickly placed it aside and turned back to the matter at hand. ``Not that I know of...I had not asked...I do not know if she would know of such affairs...perhaps it would be best to ask her father when we might meet him next.`` Lucius answered, helping the man who leaned on him heavily to the doorway and after Kendrew.[/color][/ul][/font]

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Whispers from the Past, The Beginning of Secret's Knowledge.

"let me harken ye to a bygone day where the shadows were thick even in the light of the sun. Love was present, and in going unrequited drove a man further into madness. Love gives way to jealousy. Jealousy, to wanting."

Murieall placed her hand on the harp while the other was in the care of William. A lesson was given, and loathed the English was to admit the Scott schooled him over-well. "Ye have only one wife," she reminded him, " n' one wife alone. Such things should beh treasured n' twould do well for ye tae treat her with more respect. Must you be so harsh to her, cousin? Are ye nay m'cousin now tha' ye belong in the line o' kin? His Lairdship is stern. His family is splintered, dead n' gone. Davina is his only child now. Nay hearts will ye win with a hand near gone heavy.." It was a time where stern men had control over their households. Some were kind lords, some were gruff in command only. Others sought to negotiate the terms of disagreement with injury. Her hope was to caution her new cousin against this practice for the sake of she that was her kin in blood. All of them were of a comely age. Davina had not yet produced her first child, and William could not persuade her to the bed chamber to do so. His courtship had turned to a vicious tone. Drawing her hand back she watched the result of her counsel.

He gave a heavy sigh that shook him from the core. Pushing his hand through his hair he realized in a measure the extent of her words. His frustations would not produce a wife that was pleasing to him nor agreeable. If the child were to become as him, he would need a pleasing nature to offer or he couldn't stand his own offspring. MacRauri would do little more than thank him for restoring Davina to his life instead of naming him heir after. Murieall applied logic to the ire of what ailed him so that his sense had nothing to do but agree to the common, the simple. "I do. I will apply myself more to your ways. Things have not been simple, and it seems I wonder if I loved a vision instead of a true woman.."

The harp was pushed to rest against the wall of the cottage at Aberdeen. A horse reared, as if to knock down the false structures and defend a new order risen from the honors of old. "I would see you risen to your proper stature. Now that Davina herself is restored, surely you would not seek to follow, to restore a great tradition?" Now it was his turn to appeal to another key to one of Scotland's many doors, he was discovering. A woman worthy of service to the King who had not done so. A woman who had served noble houses yet no longer did. A woman, whom by right, could stand at the right of Scotland's King and who's lineage was long in the Isles. This was a woman who's hands had grown callused with work. She bore her husband a son and was with child again. A man who was called away in his own service. Their home was fine, but not opulent. Her harp was bare of jewels. She had a standing in service where his wife had one in royalty. So why was it that Murieall and the man of Norway were happy and he was not? William continued to goad her, playfully, until smiling the woman replied:

"Your will be like tha' o' m'husband. He thinks it a shame such things are confined only tae m'house n' our relations..but it is a good life. If m'husband wills it so and the will of Kings matches true tae this..then mayhaps, one day William. We lack for nothin, e'en if our 'ome is nay like yours. Tis nay a castle." He nodded at this as she prepared a meal for the family. Davina returned from the stables, and as required of him he was courteous. For this, the day was smooth, pleasent. He found after this counsel he even smiled to his wife. Later in the evening it was Davina's turn to seek the time of women with her. A time to speak the language of the ancestors, a language that William still found that of heathens.

"You soothed him! He is like a beast that rages since nothing goes his way in England. He was so gentle! Does this become the fate of all men? If that is so, then I will have to pray harder that I do not cross him lest our bed will always be cold.."

Murieall chuckled softly, sewing a shirt for the man that was not like William. A man that had given her golden haired children despite what dark stuff lay on her and the head of her kin, reclaimed. "Aye, he is a beast. Seems only music soothes him lest you play all day and keep yer legs open aye?" Davina turned scarlet, scolding Murieall, "Ye say such things unbecoming of a woman who was baptized! How will you pass it to your children?"

"I will not pass it tae them. Ye keep the ways of the Christ Babe n' Ah will keep the past alive in them. In me."

The visits to Aberdeen were often at first, when all was restored and the world was new again. When they ceased, it would be some years and the birth of each woman's child later that brought them together on the Isle of Skye, but there was a time after the death of her first husband and before the marriage of the second that saw Murieall of Aberdeen on the foothills of Aosta.

-.-.-.-

"You are here."

William tilted his head as Murieall seemed to manifest from no where. Davina clutched a rosary in her hands, clasped tight. The rain had fallen hard on England. The traveler wore the water in her hair like a dripping crown that eminated a strange halo in the light of the torches. One hand was held by that of a boy, while craddled in many skins was a small, small girl. "Thank ye fer summonin' me hence awhile. A match will nay beh made fer some time n' twill dae us nay good tae stay.." The wagon with her possesions followed suit because she had chosen to walk to feel the earth move under her feet. It was the heart of the world she wanted to feel to remind her that hers, in the wake of a death, should not go cold.

"You are welcome here. Come, you must be warm. Fed. Davina, make our kin at peace. I know you have waited long for her."

Murieall could see the shadow that hung on William, and the strange effects she had on him then but said nothing as Davina took the baby girl while she put her hands to her son's shoulders. There would be a few weeks when the English rain lessened and the hardship in the House of Maubrey decreased. The Scottwoman won over the associates of the Knight, the ladies of Davnia, and took part in the court of the English King. But these weeks seemed as nothing when the rain ceased, her heart mended, and she returned home to seek another match in the interest of her youngest children. As a boon of good will, William escorted her home while his wife was too ill to travel. They talked much and by the time the road wound toward Aberdeen he said said: "In England you could have all that you wish. You would want for no place that would readily come to you, and then we would not have to miss you. I would not have to miss your wisdom and your humor. You have a strength in you."

Murieall, by this time, knew what it was that William wouldn't voice. It was evident in his eyes and that look would come to be the one she would rue for years to come. Still, in his black moods, there was a man trying to make sense of his life. "There'd be nay match fer me there,William. There'd be nay life tha' e'en grand, it wouldn't call tae me 'eart. This is my place. Here is where m'kin 'ave served n' where we thrive. M'children must know their story as yours will, too. And..He was here. Nay matter who may come after..Ah want Brycean n' Beathag to have kinship with the house in which they were made. Ye have been vera good tae me. I thank you. Farewell.

-.-.-.-

"We all learn to love again if our heart is taken in twain, but for some love gone unrequieted is a heart that never recovers. Men are made driven to obsession. It has killed, before."

[strongjustice]

Anwen's heart was heavy and her mind replayed the events from the hall over and over like a movie. Seeing some tracks in the snow she dismounted to take a closer look... "Two horses, both riders light in weight heading North." she said as Jonathan came up behind her.

She was all business for she could not let her heart interfere with her duty.... a weapon he had called her. She shook her head "Mount up we ride North!" she called out in a clear voice. The sun was setting but she would push on until they had to camp before once more following the tracks... at least it had stopped snowing.

Once more seated on her horse she and the twelve knight's with her continued on...hours they rode and night was upon them when she called for a halt and camp to be made. Did he care she had left? Her thoughts kept turning to her husband... she hated that she had allowed someone to get close... she loved him.

The camp made men went to hunt and she set about setting up the watch she would take the first shift. She had eaten little and Jonathan frowned for though he knew his place and his duty to protect her as Gerard had issued long ago. He did not like to see her hurting as she was now.

The men settled down to get what sleep they could as the flame haired woman kept watch. Two hours later a knight came to take over and this would be so until dawn came. She found her bed roll and tried to sleep but a face haunted her dreams... William's face... and for the first time in a long time she cried.

Orders had went forth… the campaigns would not wait for Winter’s end. He knew the Gryphon too well by now… He knew his son. So with fleeting hooves, the orders were sent to commanders…. Not word of full scale attacks, but opportunistic attacks to whittle and weaken the Gryphon’s army…. To cut supply lines to the capital… to choke the city until the people begged for mercy… and if they opened the gates to escape… to cut down any that would dare attempt such…

William was calling in all the favors that were owed to him… mercenary armies, ships, countries loyal to the English King, anything - weapon, soldier, or vessel of the sea that could be used against the Isles. He WOULD have his destiny or die trying… He would be KING !!

The man sat upon a soft bed, whilst his woman… his wife… rode out to answer questions… Lo, he did miss her… her scent… the touch of her calloused hands upon his body… He wondered how she fared against the weather. He laid back against the soft pillow where their heads would lie beside one another… a soft kiss from such a successful tool… how could one woman be both fierce fighter and a loving wife?

His head sank into the pillow, his thoughts upon the red-headed woman who was his wife… and his assassin… Soon, his eyes closed, and his mind was inhabited by visions of yesteryear…

The scene was fields of battle that passed… and of a young Knight of England who had come to Skye with an army for the English King… and who was closing in on the capital city to proclaim his rights.

Closed eyes began to flicker under closed lids as William began to see the visions of long ago… The next scene of which his mind focused...

The capital’s Cathedral… on that fateful afternoon… The Lord of the Isles, Alan MacRauri and his oldest daughter were in the Cathedral praying for their safety and those of the people of Skye. For days, Alan had refused to leave the city for the sake of his people… and the young English knight finally broke thru the gates.

In the Cathedral, as he and his kin knelt with heads down, in came the English Lord… who had them bound… including the Priest… the conversation had tones of hatred for the Lord of the Isles and the young knight continued asking about a crown… “Where is the throne of Skye... the Brooch...? I'll have it by God...” the young knight yelled... but Lord Alan refused to tell its secret. Then the English Lord thrust his sword in the chest of the Priest, slow and leisurely... the screams of pain and agony echoing in the Church… still Lord Alan refused… One hand upon a dagger, the other entwined in the hair of the oldest daughter… then with little remorse, the young knight slowly slit the throat of the Lord’s daughter… blood spilling forth upon hand and clothes… marring the alter railings… Though pleading for her life, and seeing her slump in his grasp... Still Lord Alan refused to divulge the secrets he held… then finally the sword was shoved into Lord Alan as the English Lord asked God to condemn the MacRauri’s for all eternity….

Unbeknownst to any, William was thrashing in his bed in the same motions he now dreamt about. Now he lay still… for only moments, until the mind began again…

“M’Lord, the Chamberlain is imprisoned as ordered… none shall enter except yu M’Lord…” the Captain said… William smiled and wiped the blood from the sword… “Gerard… Then all is well it seems… Turas Lan and Skye is ours for the taking…” his hair brown and green eyes, the orbs flashed in contentment. “Alan and the future Lord of the Isles is dead… and his court dismantled… I shall be the reigning Lord and yu, my Captain…” The young ambitious knight said. “M’Lord… don’t yu think we should have executed the Chamberlain as well?” the young Captain asked. The young Lord just laughed… “Now with that man dead, how can I wear the Brooch, and be the Lord of the Isles?” But it would not come to be... as the young Lord and his brash knight would be recalled to England... as dogs on a leash.

His mind soon pauses, his breathing settles back into a regular pace, and his heartbeat slows… and before the man could wake up… his mind begins to roll back the years… this time the years had passed and he was in MacRauri Manor, named after the former Lord of the Isles… today they call it Griffin Castle.

There in the halls of the Manor, came forth the woman named Murielle, the King’s Harper… William had just ascended the stairs on his way to his room after yet another argument with his wife, Davina. “Murielle, I must speak with you…” The woman replying… “William, still yae fight with Davina… She loves yae sae… but yae are driving her away…”The knight spoke of a strained marriage, the coldness of his wife, and the son she wishes to be a cleric... and the Harper's defense of the wife... He speaks of a love that could be... and her renunciation of that love.... The knight then takes the woman gently by the arms and pushes her against the wall, his body pressing against hers. “Murielle… yu know I love only yu… I desire you… I want a family with you… You give Am all he desires... and he stays away from you... I am here, why do you shun me… I could provide all you ever desire… I could give yu a kingdom…” The woman attempting vainly against his superior strength… “William… yae and Ah are both married… Ah love yae as a brother, baet twill bae no other love between us... Ah dun want a kingdom… I love mae husband…”

William once again was fighting in his sleep… this time with memories of yesteryear that plagued him…

“You could learn to love me… if yer husband was dead from battle… I could be yer only love… I could send Davina and the baby away… then we could be happy together…” Moments from him taking her body in the shadows of a hallway nook; Davina came up the stairs, heard Murielle’s muffled screams, and saw her husband atop her kin…

William thrust about in the bed, remembering old conversations that would shove him in the directions of today’s war. In the sanity of an awakened world, he would never delve into the memories of old, but the circumstances of Anwen leaving angry, and Adam having a strong foothold in Skye, now sent his memories into overdrive.

Dejected by the one he truly loved… married to a woman who he once thought he loved, now despised, because of her heritage… and the yearnings of being a king drove William and his young Captain, Gerard, to rethink the plan for Skye… William had ordered his family to England, while leaving his army in Skye.

Davina continued to lure Murielle to England, mayhaps to keep William from killing her and her son. Meanwhile the sisters contrived a plan to hide the secrets of the MacRauri and the throne of Skye. Through the years, they would labyrinth and maze information throughout the MacRauri Manor and its subterranean footprint and pray that those whose heirs would come after, would find the secrets for the future.

It was the hinting of the secrets through the years that would give William fits of rage and forge his drive to end the Aberdeens and the MacRauris. Thus the drive for power was created in this man and hence history would be extracted from his actions. [/color]

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

War was at her doorstep… blood once again stained her snow… soldiers, in uniforms of black and gold lay dead in her fields, ambushed and slaughtered without mercy. And the Lord of the Isles? Where was he?

Lord Adam had entertained the Pope for days… and by night had discussed the plans for war with his Generals and Admirals… Still in the days that passed, the Lord of the Isles, in his most secretive of ventures, had signed agreements of support from Scotland, Argania, Norway, and the Europa Alliance, those of Germany, Aragon, Castile, Portugal, Hungary and France. He was preparing for war, whenever it would begin… He too, would not wait for spring, as seems the English, especially his Father, had not.

Alliances, some that would not normally be made, occurred thru the artistic eulogies given to past Kings by Adam… in speeches that would spurn freedom and democracy… speeches that would generate Celt renaissance ideas for years. Skye was far advanced than many of her brethren countries, not only in the art of war and weapons thanks to Sir Zurban and Captain lePower, but medical advances… thanks to Aislin of Eohmark, his Court Physician… Advances that would prevent disease, unwanted pregnancies, and other medical monstrosities. All the world could learn from the Renaissance, if only they would side with Skye. Those advances would lure other nations to support Skye – Sardinia, Athens, and Poland.

Each country siding with Skye could not send a complete army and logistics, so Adam’s idea was to list each country’s contribution, and to coordinate how much support he would get from them. The alliances he had obtained would become the world’s first coalition to fight a standing army of power such as England. In the coalition, no country would be drained of its resources, nor indebted to fight Skye’s battles. In turn Skye had promised information on the discoveries or technological advances Skye had made… and in some cases, a financial value placed on the support… but Skye would need to be careful and not put herself in debt… for a financial distressed country lay prey to those who wish them harm.

Deep in the Castle, Adam laid down the heavy leather bound book… “[url=http://www.chinapage.com/sunzi-e.html
]Sun Tze on the Art of War[/url][/i]…” The notes he had scribbled, were being put to memory… These notes he would pass to all his commanders, whether upon land or sea.

"So it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will fight without danger in battles. If you only know yourself, but not your opponent, you may win or may lose.
If you know neither yourself nor your enemy, you will always endanger yourself.”

“The art of war is of vital importance to the State.”

“If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him.
Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.”

“Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.”

Adam also used these words in his speeches to the countries of the proposed alliance, often urging them to sign the agreement… and even to his men, he repeats the words whenever he can gain a group of listeners… Time and time again, he would calm the fears of the peasants, spark the joys of freedom, and stand upon a crate in the market, as did his Father months ago...

To the clans, the politicians, and commanders… “In order tae make peace, we must prepare faer war. We mus’ nae ‘ave a lack o’ information or misuse it… choose the field o’ battle ‘nd prepare faer it… and finally prepare the signalers faer the throes of battle, for those are our words to our men… These words Ah offer…”[/color][/font][/size]