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Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Feb 18, 2008 16:34:48 GMT -6
His mood was better these days, but still he demonstrated a crucial concern for those that were left behind. He was treated as a leader of the people; in visits to the Pubs at Dockside tavern, he would be greeted with praise and well wishes. Wishing to be left alone, he could often be found sitting at a table in the back, sipping upon a tankard of ale; though the din of the establishment was deafening.
Late one evening, while he waited on Bess to meet him; from the shadows of the corner, his ears perked to the words of two men; words that could be construed as traitorous. The men were discussing the sale of information to the English regarding the whereabouts of Princess Serena and her newborns. Having heard his friend's name mentioned, listening more intently now, he also overheard the men discussing the sale of Templar information to the French. The results of these sales would be landholdings of Scotland and Ireland under English deed; land that was not under English title. The discussions soon involved three other men who arrived late. Adam shifted in his chair to listen.
Adam found out that these men were not just men but Clan Leaders with duties to the people. With each comment, Adam became angrier, not at the fact these men were plotting, but plotting against the very people he and Bess had spilled Skye blood to save; the very fact that he and she had put their parental duties on hold; the fact that he and she put their own selves in harm’s way. Reaching for a dagger at his waist, then second guessing himself, he quirked his head and gritted his teeth… releasing the dagger hilt.
When the men departed, Adam watched them walk right past Bess as she entered. Seeing him, she wore a smile, but he sat in the chair, his elbows on the table, his fingers tips tapping one another, his forehead then touched the tips of the fingers. The man was in contemplation.
With her arrival at his table and her affable greeting, he looks up at her. “We need tae talk luv…”
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Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Feb 18, 2008 16:35:11 GMT -6
The stories they told one another shared a common vein: their countrymen were selling their souls to wickeness and their kingdom for self preservation. The Celtic quality of endurace was coupled in times of victory or defeat - whole families were known to follow a saint or a sinner into the fire without blinking twice if conviction directed them. It was not for king, not for country, but often for self, which was why the Celts proved formidable warriors, fiercly loyal among their comerades, and terrible at keeping Kings in the royal chair. It was prominent, even in the most beautiful of days and tender of moments. They had sailed from one battle into another.
This one, without blood, seemed more hideous to observe than the last.
Ignia Ferroque: Adam Aberdeen, a simple man, whose destiny landed him in the Scotland; the torment of English heritage and Scottish loyalty wrought strife of life and love. Unknown to the future, he would lead a band of warriors, to a new land... then fight the battle to its future::::was the day that Adam, having fought a battle to secure freedom, yet he knew more was to come before he and his beloved Bess could live... he walked amongst the people of Turas Lan, in the market square:::
Set In Her Way: The future? What was it now but talk of the herald and the gossip of the square? Every hour of the days that come to pass in Turas Lan found them one step closer to a future beyond expectation. Clan Chieftains gathered in theHalls; green eyes narrowed for an instant to the door that closed,but, she turned instead to slip her hand into Adam's, to enjoy the first day of togetherness they had shared in the markets. Stalls, tents, stores that went on for miles and even Bess couldn't help but notice the immesne prosperity of this city. (d)
Ignia Ferroque: Dressed in a green jacket with black designs, the high collar revealing the fringes of a white lace shirt, his dark green trousers extended from the wide waist belt down to the hightop black side-laced boots; an ornate sword swung rhytmic at his hip. One hand in hers, the other at his lower back, he surveyed the occurances of the square, as a man who surveyed his own property::::
Set In Her Way: Was it there property -- a strange set of occurrences, a strange bit of words were propelling them into that place by the moment. Crimson stained was washed away to reveal the woman beneath; golden hair brushed and bound in tight braid, a skirt of hunter, a white blouse, a long over robe of earthen brown. Silent, steadfast, enduring. " Stalls, shops..full o' things ye'd see only in the larger cities on the continent..and twas left alone all this time.." (d
Ignia Ferroque: His moods better these days after the return, yet he would pause to acknowledge people who would bow their heads, kneel, or curtsy and provide a hearty "Good day M'Lord," and he would respond only by having them rise. "Nae need tae give such courtesy, ah am nae yer Laird, but a mere servant of Scotland." he would respond. But they persisted still then same as if he was bound by blood right to the reigns of the land. Then he would give a questioned look to his beloved, a slight shake of his head. "Bessie Eve, whae dae they p'rsist. Ah but bae a simple man seeking a simple life." ::::
Set In Her Way: " Aye, tis nay better.." her head turned over shoulder as the words of greeting were peppered with such title as "Your Ladyship," " Good day, Lady," " Good day, your Grace.." it sickened her behind a smile as she whispered to him, " Adam, they are tryin' tae place us somewot. E'ry one tha' has come with us is bein' lauded..." The herald she had paid to remain mute only smiled as they passed, in some sense, he felt sorry for the pair that would have faded into obscurity otherwise. At the same time, there was something to be said of how much a lot of seperatists seemed to gather more knowledge of the times than most kingdom seats could at any given moment. (d)
Ignia Ferroque: "Aye, tis odd tae haer the waerds, especially if'en yae daen't feel like a Laird." A smile to her... "Ah knaew luv, tis as they need tae give us somethin' faer killin' their men..." A loving squeeze of her hand, he paused only for a second, his sea-green eyes would gaze upon the golden hair; a calloused hand would push away errant strands and give her a smile. "Ah luv ye Bessie Eve, with ahl mae 'eart, nae mat'r whaer we bae..." The accent becoming ever more prevalent than the English, maybe to the point his Father would not even recognize him. Listening to her, he leans to whisper... "Despite the lauding, ah still hear whispers o'treason and subterfuge."::::
Set In Her Way: " Adam, tha' has gone on longer than ye've been in Scotland n' longer than either o' us 'ave been born.." She leaned in closer to his ear, pulling away a curl beside his temple as she said,"Yet, tis strange when warin' folk suddenly ally. King or nay king, Scotts be a clannish people n' monarchs may or may nay give damn, dependin' upon the way o' things. Yet now suddenly it matters? Somethin' is gaein' on here abouts n' we be in the thick on o' it." The sounds of her boots clicked with ease over the paved portion of walkway. It was so strange, that only the moisture of the season dewed their shoes instead of the ice mud. A vendor of musical things caught her attention. Now, with not only the eye of a merchant were these things surveyed, but with an eye Adam rarely saw beyond a closed door: a competent Gaelic musician. Upon inquiry to the tone of strings she'd plucked, she gasped, " They be nay cat's gut But the tone! Silver lined? N' this batch is silver through n' through...nay. " He went on to further say the strings were common place here, and the guild of Bards, Minstrels, and such often went round and round upon the different varities. A jewel in Scotland's crown and ne'er before was it tapped! Hidden by mists..this Isle indeed might have just been beyond the earth. " I'll take the silver strings, iffn ye would, n' the copper coloreds, deeper tone ye say? those tae..." (d)
Ignia Ferroque: Stopping once again, standingto face her, his height above hers, he smiles... "Ah mae be o'noble blood, but nae by choice. Ah nev'r asked faer it... Ah only did what Ah felt was necessary tae save the Princess and our friends." His depression a bit shown in his words, she broke his sullen mood by her investigation of merchant wares. Standing behind her in observation, he saw something in his prepherial vision. Without a movement of his head, he watched the two men exchange a small pouch for papers... nothing unusual except for the manner in which they tried to cover their actions. One man was the one who spoke in the tavern that first evening of suspicion. As the pair walked on, Adam stopped abruptly, turned Bess and Kissed her, her eyes able to see behind him. With a whsiper in her ear... "Watch the two at the bakers side door... they exchange things."::::
Set In Her Way: " The secret tae Scottish life.." she shared with her lover who was becoming more Scotts by the day," Is tae make mark, but tae nary speak on it, at least, nay yet.." As her strings were wrapped for her to carry, in the distance she noticed an unusual converstaion on the next row over. Around a table, drinking and smoking pipes were men of the varying clans. Their tartans dawned, an expression of odd compliance crossed their faces as one spoke. " We Scotts folk can read e'en if we dun know letters, by the way a face looks.." The merchant placed the package into a basket to offer her, saying her Ladyship was welcome any time she chose. When asked to call her only Beathag, he used Lady Beathag as if feeling he had been blessed. At this, for once? She only laughed ,touching a hand to his shoulder as they bid him farewell. "Come, let's gae find a sit down ourselves.." (d)
Ignia Ferroque: The pair walked hand in hand again until he noticed a quaint lil bakery shop, with tables outside along the road. Offering her to sit, he scooted the chaiunder her, then sat beside her. She would know, Adam placed her where he could see the men across the street and the pair at the other bakery. Ordering two ales and a half-loaf of sweetbread, he gazed at the blonde beauty. "Ye 're more beautiful than the day ah met ye lass. Much water 'as passed under the bridge in such a short time." His eyes would wander from her to the men, then the bakery and back to her, his fingers rotating the leather braid upon his wrist. "When shall we wed luv? I canne wait til the day ye can call me yers and Ah can take ye tae bed once again." ::::
Set In Her Way: The limp in her leg spurned by the scarring in the hip was healing, but still meant the stalwart woman had to admitt to a flaw that needed resting. Slipping down into the offered seat with a huff, she smiled as the ale and sweetbread came for them to enjoy. It would take a war, she thought, to make them appreciate the simple. A strand of gold passed into emerald vision, the joy of a smile rolling back the years that much more. Breaking the bread he brought with a knife from within her dress, she spoke on the matter of marriage,"Ye've tae laugh at it Adam, our monarchy's a'fallen n' we still abide by such formality..n' yet we share a name." A calloused hand slid over to for fingers to slip in locked hold. His hands were so strong, the worl done by them gave them character. But for her? His touch was soft as rain, her own the edges of a gentle dream," Ye are mine, Adam Aberdeen..n' I dun care wot parchment or scroll says it. Ah've ye, We've the children..we've bled n' tha's as good as any vow. But let us wed, let us dae it when e'er we've the mind..." she leaned o'er to whisper the next (d)
Set In Her Way: In his ear she whispered, " But nay one, neither priests nor common folk, nor any will be tellin' me who I be sharin' m'bed with. If we wed, the people see..in m'heart ye be mine..and 'ave been." (d)
Ignia Ferroque: He smiles at her. "Aye, the monarchy 'as fallen, yet the Princess Serena and our future King lives... but if'en ye wish, Ah'll stand in yonder square, sword in hand and proclaim ye be mine in marriage... and let any man says we nae be..." his hand carressing hers until the latter comment when it reaches for the sword... a smile across his face, yet she would know he teases and is serious all in one. Then her whisper causes his to smile even larger and nods just the same. "Yer bae a gaed woman Beathag Aberdeen..." followed by a wink. "Sae, when shall we gae tae the tavern and handfast as we planned?" once again he persisted::::::
Set In Her Way: "Aye, I be wishin' it, ye great lad in a man's body, I be wishin' it." A swig of ale to sweeten the voice as she said, "M'suitor will declare it o'er in the square n' I shall swoon." Her swooning was enough to make a picture of laughter to last a lifetime. Happy. For an instant, they were happy. " Well, our first place o' choice fell out o' business I 'ear.." in fact it fell down, and warriors could laugh at blackhumor, " Sae we've plenty o' places 'ere...'ell Adam, we've somehow got this whole castle..." she snickered in several fits but nodded, " Adam Aberdeen, I want tae fast hands with ye 'pon the castle stair, aye, Idae! 'Pon tha' castle stair, our handfast ropes made o' our bracelets n' golden rope, n' our standard o'er it tae. " (d)
Ignia Ferroque: An odd look at her as he sits back in the chair. "Castle? What castle? What the 'ell yae be sayin' woman? Are ye bats in de belfry, we still live in the raem above the tavern. "Yae bae speaken odd things. Dae ye know somethin I daen't?" :::::
Set In Her Way: " Ye great..." she rolled her eyes and pointed to the top of the city where they had been oh so strangly placed, " Tha' castle, right there..." Reaching over the table she swatted his arm and fell back laughing, " If ye were born noble n' some man made me one..." she shrugged " Seems fittin', n' right...n' I want tae show the world, ye.." She took up his hand again " i want tae stand like tha' lady ye always wanted tae see me dressed as, on tha' stair." (d)
Ignia Ferroque: Standing, looking toward the castle high upon the hill, like a guardian of old, its walls thick and fortified. Glancing back at her with questions in his eyes, then a look back to the castle. Ponderous, his hand to his chin... sitting down, looks to her. "Haew lang ye knaewn? What they bae doin'? settin us up tae be nobles?" His hand caressing his chin in thought. "Ye would look good as a Lady... ye deserve it Bessie Eve, faer all ye 'ave done for Scotland. An' Ah wanna marry ye, on the stairs of the castle or in the streets... nae matter tae me. Ye 'ave always been in m'heart. Ahl Ah want is tae have my wife and kids safe from harm and tae 'ave a good life." He smiles and leans forward to her, his hands cupping hers, pulling them to his lips, kissing them. :::::
Set In Her Way: Talk of calling it Griffin Castle, in honor of the standard that went forth in battle against the bleakst outlook. It's reached out, extending itself with many windows that served as eyes on the land below it. Castles, halls, and times of glory pulled at the heart when memories of old lives came calling to haunt, and yet? It was filled these days with their friends, each respected in their own right. The sounds of their children..his children laughing. "Aye Adam, tha' seems tae be the course, and with ye it shall nay be sae bad.." She looked to him, pulling on the chair to be right beside his own, " Ne'er thought I'd get enough bein' a merchant tae get a castle n' all..." her forehead touched his own, " Ye've certainly outdone yeself as a knight tae.." (d)
Ignia Ferroque: He felt safe, his forehead to hers. It was automatic that his fingers worked their way into her golden locks, pulling her lips to his. A kiss, ever so simple, soon developed into a passionate kiss reserved for the bedroom. He did not care who saw them and would dare anyone to comment. The separation of lips caused a look into her green eyes, his own flickering back and forth examining every milimeter of her face. "Ah did ahl Ah did, faer ye and the children... nay what stories evolve, ahll faertotale. "Aye, and a fine Lady ye shall make... an education our young knight and Lady in waiting shall have, and Scotland shall be free for all who lives within her borders."
Set In Her Way: She felt loved, adored, and cherished beyond measure. For years, it seemed, her life had been fashioned for him and it took a great long while for them to find one another. Through lovers, trials, tribulations. Uncertain times had brought them together and they would rise to the occasion with a brilliance to be remembered in history long after they were gone. A kiss, so ginger, became fire in a touch as it transferred between them. When he pulled back she nodded, smiling, " They shall be happy, healthy children n' nay want fer anythin..n' us? In tha' Ah have ye..Ah have Scotland." She kissed him once more; the strike of lightning as her breathing began to flucuate. " Ye are Scotland tae me, Gods fergive me. Ah love m'land but Ah've waited years fer the likes o' ye.." (d)
Ignia Ferroque: Their intimate moment interrupted; It was then that one of the Clan Leaders approached them... standing behind his large broadsword as it pointed into the dirt, his hands upon the hilt. "Aberdeen... ah 'ear ye plan on leadin' our fair city tae the future... Nary what ye say will break the Clans... We be ownin' all here, nay some Ainglish bastard and his... woman... Be wary boy, as we Clans run Skye, nay ye..." It was the man in the tavern... Adam said nothing, simply nodding... his hand upon Bess' to keep her from blowing up at the man.:::::
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 18, 2008 16:43:54 GMT -6
Set In Her Way: How quick joy could turn into an anger that gave homage to the crossing of blood that made the woman named Beathag! The Chieftain's words did more than sting, the prick left a poison that made her eyes glare deep into his lily livered skin. He knew it, his laughter taunting as Adam had one hand upon her chest to keep his Lady from standing. It was already well known she could swing an axe, sword, dirk, and ride as hard or as long as any man. She turned her face from him, only saying, " Tha' be fine..let them 'ave their words. If the council o' chieftains lauds us more? Iffn they tell me tae be Lady o' the Islands, her Grace? Then I ACCEPT" Celtic blood ran hot when challenged, Norse blood raged, and combined? It made her determination. (d)
Ignia Ferroque: "Be faerwarned boy... daen't ye be thinkin' ye own nuttin 'round 'ere. The Clans will guide Skye... and Scotland tae the future... however we deem fit." The man's red hair was messed, his tartan upon his shoulder. Three more men arrived moments later, trying to get the large man to come with them. Adam simply narrowed his eyes as he maintained what patience he could muster. All the while, he grit his teeth in anger. Knowing full well, that man, would know guide Scotland, nor Skye, but would hand them over to the English Lords for a pitance of land and English coin and promises that would eventually be broken. The Clansman left with his compatriots, the broadsword upon his shoulder, not event glancing back at them, as he maintained his patience and gritted his teeth*
Set In Her Way: The baker's owner came out, about to come forward to break up the rabble. The group of men always stirred things, worse now, since the seven ships went out to sea and returned with the Scottishand in an instant, the future was as clear as crystal. THEY were responsible! Others; their baliffs and stewards, the liasons under the noses of the innocents. " Ye be more Scotts than they be, nay honor wot sae e'er....a waste o'seed from the lions o' their fathers n' mother's wombs..e'ery one o' em.." The shopkeep would bow and apologize, a shake of head as she told the man, "Nay, but tell us man..how long 'ave things been as such 'ere?" He went on to tell the story," Fer years, mam. Years n' years. Tis like we've had nary a leader at all..n' they be squabblin' fer the castle seat. Higher than chieftain, next tae king. Toss 'em out o' places damn near e'eryday..some o' em abouttae be replaced as chieftains..and they be fearin' ye, mam. Ye and yurs, come from the mainland court. Tha' they'd give the Title tae his Lordship n' ye..." The Highlander reclined back into her chair, as she paid the baker doublewhat they would have owed." Ye tell us anythin, anythin' ye hear. I will pay tae have ye shop secured the rest o' ye days. Stay true tae yeself n' dun lose heart...their time is comin'.." It seems a new war was at hand. One they'd have to fight in the halls and in the castle at the tables. (d)
Ignia Ferroque: Once again, Adam is forced into decisions not his own, ut for the good of others. Tilting the tankard of ale, he empties it... then after setting it down, his elbows go to the table, fingers extendiung tapping one another... his forehead touching the tips lightly. Once again he is in pnderance of what to do. Looking at Bess over his fingertips. "Move all we know to the castle... the children, Aida and her niece, the Princess and the babes, Aislin, and anyne else that sides with us... especially the people from Inverness..." he pauses...
Set In Her Way: " We already be there man.." she interjected in hs thoughts, listening for him to go on. Good thing they were there, too! Seemed more than one person was looking for their heads (d)
Ignia Ferroque: "I'll ask Zahak, Eamonn, and Kae to gather as many men and weapons as we can... Yu control the supplies... send yer ships to sea to protect them..." his accent waned as his anger boiled inside. "If'en I am to fight... and fight I shall... I shant run again... I'll take what they offer... iuf I am to be Lord, then Lord I shall be..." his heart racing, anger made him grit his teeth. "Damn these people..." stopping only briefly, his eyes now moist. "Damn them Bess... ye know I love ye... with all my heart. Does it mean I am to die to make things safe for yu and the children? So be it... but I won't run again." His head laid upon tapping fingertips.This was the habitual ponderance stance he took:::::
Set In Her Way: He was flustered, angered, and his depression was enough to sweep them both if it took hold again. She clasped his hands, running her fingers into his hair there after ," We won't be runnin' anymore. Ne'er again. We've done it enough, n after ...eighteen years, o' them takin, tormentin, huntin meh n' mine they can look me in the eye if they want tae take m'life? Let 'em try..we will not be moved. " She lifted his face up to face her own, " We began tagether, we'll finish it taegether..." The baker had stayed, nodding to the pair. It should not be their fight, but it was. They should be merchants only..but they were not. Not anymore. " Any one o' em tha' challenges me, willbe on the end o' the axe.....Baker! Tell me, will they be meetin' again this night?" He nodded..and she did as well, " Then tha' be where I shall be. Let 'em look upon an Aberdeen if they want tae laud or kill us. " (d)
Wisps0fHeather: The Lady warrior was eyeing the shops and such. She swore if she heard more whispers of traitoristic talk, someone's head would roll. She'd been privy to much gossip and talk that sickened her. The Renegade Warrior would have no more of this bloody talk. If she needed to fight, then she would fight to the death for Scotland and her freedom. She guessed the clan heads would lose theirs. [d]
Aeterno Ventus: One of the drawbacks to leaving home and country was the fact that you literally came with the clothes on your back. For him, it was the same concept. While Eamonn was use to having very little with him, for soldiers only needed to take what they could carry. However, things were different when the addition of a wife and future child came into the picture. Now, the picture and perspective changed. Already a few days in Skye, and he was still getting use to these foreign lands. With new lands, came the possibility of new threats. And because of that, Eamonn was dressed in full armour, gloved hand resting upon the hilt of his sword while his other arm was wrapped around the waist of his wife. A trip to the market was inevitable, to pick up the pieces and continue on with life. No smile did the horseman have, nor would he have for a few more days. Stoic eyes glanced over the different stands and vendures silently as he walked beside Aislin, his pace forming to fit hers.
Beloved Souls: So many new things to see, Aislin felt like she was missing things and wanted to go back over them again and again. Everytime they stepped beyond the castle walls, a new discovery was awaiting them, even when they did not venture far from the stone made prision. No matter how much Aislin was in awe as the insides of a castle, she did not feel comfortable within one. It could be one of the many reasons she was trying to get her husband out and about more and more. her softer body was tucked against his armor covered one, fitting perfectly within his arm and molding along his side as skirts of dark blues and grays moved about her ankles. The maroon cloak was tied tightly about her to keep that extra warmth on her as they moved from one vender to the other. Each cart presented something new and was making Aislin sink more and more into her awe stay. Silent, but curious was always a interesting pair. Pulling her her husband towards a cart with peasant's clothing, she knew they both were in need of a few new sets. " We are going to be staying here, now that Inverness be no more for us...in our ventures..ah am keeping my eyes open to shops that may need a hand after our babe is born. Soon...we will need a new home."
Ignia Ferroque: Sitting at the table, he looks to her. "Dammit Bess, why can't they just let us be... I know it cannot be all of the Lairds... it can't be... I know of three Chieftains that will fight us... the three in the tavern... but I do not know how many more..." His frustration took all Gaelic accent from his words... his fingertips tapping one another quickly, his head against them lightly... once again contemplation.... a land thought as theirs, them and friends soon to be lauded, but some Clansmen were siding with the English for bits of promises yet received, or recended... traitorous actions would soon come to light:::
Set In Her Way: "Because, Adam, they are Scotts. Problem with tha' half o' ye blood as ye well know? At times we dun leave well enough alone..." She stood up, the tense muscles of angst tightening her step. The baker came over and took her hand as she seemed headed to his counter, and what did she do? Everyone had watched,and talked. Many seemed to be on the side of the street, oddly, that supported their makeshift officials. She took a coin purse out of her robes' lining. Never displayed in ways bombastic or garrish, they were not people in poverty. Shipping was a prosperous business even in war. " If ye'd be sae kind? E'ery drink in this establishment, let 'em know tha' it was brought by the Aberdeen name. If they want it shipped, tha' merchant who gave ye the ale? Tell 'em it'll gae tae far reaches and I'd e'en pull intae London town tae give it tae the king tae replace the piss swill he drinks! There now!" The man gawked, and an uproar of laughter began! She grinned, going back to the table, " And tha' , at times, is how ye make allies n' Scotland..and allies we shall have...let 'em try...damn 'em, let 'em try...." (d)
Wisps0fHeather: )( She walked into an establishment, not really knowing who was there, she needed a whiskey straight with no twists. She could not understand why anyone would want a twist with their whiskey. As she walked in, she heard something about 'piss swill', it could only be Lady Beathag, it was she who said that. A laugh escaped from her as she looked over her direction. She gave a warrior's salute to both the Lord & Lady, with a slight smile )( [d]
Ignia Ferroque: Adam wanted to spit upon the traitorous bastards, but Bess' antics made him laugh. Sitting back in the chair...:Bess ye be somethin else... an' Ah luv ye..." the Gaelic accent seemed to reenter his out what one usually hides. "WE need to make plans... and make sure everyone is in the Castle... Ah will dae things tae speed up the Clansmen's anger... tae bring em out and ask faer Ainglish help..." he smiles and motions for yet another ale for them both. "The Clansmen cannaet last long against their own people if'en they don't have Ainglish backing." ::::
Set In Her Way: He couldn't help how he was born anymore than she could have told her Scott's relations not to marry folk from Norway, but it happened. For their troubles they were given a blond haired woman with one hell of a temper and the most thick, prettiest brogue on the island. " Aye, we best 'ave plans, Adam. See, e'en ye can nay leave well enough alone. Besides, tha' English part o' ye wot loves Scotland sae much will help us keep our seat when they put us there! The only thing the English be good at is keepin' a king longer than we dae!" Gales of laughter erupted as she took his hand," N' ye speak better Ainglish than Ah e'er will! Ye can tell his majesty in them purty words tae kiss ye half Scottish backside n' let 'em know it's a fine Scottish backside wot made ye defect!" Women gasped, some chuckled behind their hands, but the most common of women among them? They peeled out in rioutous laughter. To the woman who was full enough a MacLeod to come on a boat with them? She lifted her ale and smiled. Legs crossed, ale sipped. (d)
Wisps0fHeather: "Aye tae Scotland, by tha' Gods I'll kill tha' clan leaders m'self. When a Chieftan goes against his own country, he is hung by his rotten neck til he is dead and fed tae tha' vultures. It's simply nae done. Traitorius louts everya last one of them.. They deserve wha' they get and I would be delighted tae help out." )( She lifted her whiskey to Bess, evil grin pasted across those lips )( [d]
Ignia Ferroque: Adam laughed so hard... the anger gone faster than it arose, due to Bess. He squeezed her hand and hefted the tankard with the other. "ye woman, ah luv ye... sharp wit, good sword, and a beauty tae boot..." he winks... "O'curse naet in dat order..." Adam smiles to MacLeod... patting the chair next to him and Bess. "Saet down, drink wit us... unless ye worried 'bout being a traitor to the Ainglish..." he chuckles and takes a hefty drink:::: " Aye, come on o'er!" There would be two empty chairs for she sat herself right 'pon her man's knee with a wry grin," She be nay traitor tae the English, she killed a few! Can ye imagine tha', city full o' crazy women. This is wot our Da's fear when they give us swords." A kiss to his cheek, " Good face, good sword, fine lookin' man." (d)
Wisps0fHeather: "Well I thank ye kindly m'Lord...it be m'pleasure and fore tha' English, , they be damned as well as the Chieftan's. Bloody hypocrits!" )( She sat with them bringing her whiskey bottle wit her, sat down and felt quite at home. She'dhad a sword in her hand for many years.)( "Oh an bytha' way..I am Brynna MacLeod, The Renegade Warrior." )( She laughed as if she were with her best friends, they probably would be be in years tae come, since she was a loner half the time )( [d]
Ignia Ferroque: The move from the chair to his knee was completely unexpected... but appreciated. Formality and respectability according to the Church had never his... or her... forte. They did as they felt as long as the royalty was not offended. Here there was none... they'd make their own... "M'Lady MacLeod, mae apologies if'en I offended ye... but naew we must discover who 're the traitors that side with the Ainglish and flush them out... a move is afoot ta rid Skye of us and make promises tae the bloody Ainglish faer land and more Ainglish promises..." He held his tankard aloft... "Glad tae have a MacLeod truly loyal tae Scotland... and Skye." ::::
Set In Her Way: " Tha' be true, indeed. A MacLeod. Find a MacDonald we might be rather set! A McSween runs the Pub at Dockside..." Turas Lan made the clans converge in ways that were unheard of. Enemy dawning of each new day. Her "Ladyship" was placed square upon his knee with a smile to her face as they made talk of these times, "We've tae move quick, fast, n' hard. There be a meetin' this eve o' em again and I will gae. Get some others tae gae with me. See wot we can learn..wot say ye, MacLeod?" (d)
Wisps0fHeather: "I be in wit ye Bess.My sword is yours and my fealty is yours too wit Lord Adam." )( She was in all right, anything she could do to kill outright muggers thugs and thieves. A delight for her, she hated the English and anything they stood for. Off with their heads! She said to herself )( [d]
Ignia Ferroque: Adam looked to Bess, then the Lady Bryanna, then back to Bess. "Ye be careful Luv... daent trust em one iota... While ye dae that... I'll gae visit the alleys and shadows and see what ah kin learn... then when I see the Chieftains nay at the meetin' then we'll knaew who be sidin wit who." He pats her arse. "Protect dat naew..." with a chuckle. ::::::
Set In Her Way: "O'course, Lairdship, tis a fine specimen is it nay." she leaned in and brought him close to her. Let them see, let them see that the people they exalted loved stronger than any e'er could, "Dun gae getting hurt now,like m'man I dae in one piece without 'avin' tae stich him up across the square n' all." (d)
Wisps0fHeather: "I shall see tha' Lady Bess is careful and I shall watch over her whilst we are gone Sir." )( She seethed at the traitorship of clan heads ready to do the work of the devil english, it just sickened her. She'd kill them right along with the english. Blasphemous louts.)( [d]
Ignia Ferroque: Laughing, urging her off his lap... a slight shake of his head... "Yer amazin' Lass... simply amazin'... Naew, Ah'll go get changed... time to do a lil dirty work... before dirty work does a job on mae and maen..." Bowing from his standing position to the Ladies, "Be good...dae good... and good 'll come tae us... Good eve tae ye both..." then the man walks away, the sword rhythmic at his hip:::::
Set In Her Way: "Why thank ye, Lad, I try." she smiled and canted her head, a hand over her heart for one is supposed to give fealty, humility, and earnest to their lord. "Words tae live by Lairdship, words tae live by. MacLeoud will watch meh, we'll try tae keep our purty wee heads out o' nonsense now." She chuckled. Something in the Scottish drinks made women a might taller, a might stronger, and a bit more steel bosomed here! "Now, MacLeod, tell me about ye! Iffn ye are gaein' tae be "watchin" me n' all, we best know how tae coordinate our clothes fer taenight, and who I be hoistin' up the colors n' bosom with." (d)
Wisps0fHeather: "I am bent on black for the moment. I shall be dressed all in black, my hair braided, leather boots to my knees. The heels are tricks of a warrior especially me. They have little poisoned darts that hit at ankle level and stun the person briefly. Enough to get us away if its needed. It shouldn't be needed, but one never knows. In the bodice of my shirt is three daggers , nice and sharp. How about you lass?" [d]
Set In Her Way: "Black gown n' an armory aye? Dun forget ye clan colors now. Tartan, tartan m'girl! We must show 'em we mean business out as well as wot be under the skirt n' bosom. Mm....just what to wear? And where was MacLeod from anyhow? "Ah've a right bonnie dress, always does the charm fer daein' business. Ah've dun business with some o' the most hard arsed men in Christendom, let alone the Pagan lands be e'en worse. Mmm..a right bonnie deep vermillion, tha' be Set In Her Way: the shade! Be right purty with hair ornament wot come from italy...carved cherry wood..sharp as anythin'' tae...." (d)
Before the meeting came to a close, the MacLeod woman stated proudly where she was from on the Isle.
Wisps0fHeather: "Dunvegan Castle, sits on a cliff like out cropping. Been there for over 700 years., god willing it will be there another 700 years."
Though in a time such as this, could anything be guaranteed to stand?
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 19, 2008 19:29:27 GMT -6
Set In Her Way: It was Sunday - some went to mass, while others didn't regard the cathedral bells in the slightest other than to mark the hours of another winter's day. The relentess wanderer went around curves; hands to the wall,brushing themoisture mingled with dust while the other supported a satchel filled with bound folios. To Bannockburn, to the rebel rousing and the feel of Scotland's finest. To talk of Robert the Bruce and of the faded King King Kentigern, while what was left of business could be reassembled in the bustling ports here. Her mind was a mixed land, reeling still with the knowledge between her ears, she was also determined to find a way to meld her business with remaining one step ahead (d)
Aeterno Ventus: Words never cease to fill the air, from the pettiest of things to that of utmost importance. Somewhere it leaked out, and eventually the secret was discovered by not just one person. People had wagging tongues in general, and most of what had been uttered behind closed doors become open information to the world. Such was why Eamonn rarely spoke to anyone other than those he considered good friends, and the tall blonde warrior paid close attention to those he labeled as his 'friends'. It was a Sunday, a day of rest, but Eamonn seemed to have very little of those days. Be it Sunday or any other day in the week, Eamonn's job was never ending, for there was always a horse that would need tending to, or some training of soldiers. Eamonn was starting to make adjustments to this place, and given his extensive knowledge of horses, he was becoming fastly popular in the stables and stalls. Today, He sat at one of the wooden tables, a plate filled with slabs of venison and vegetables with a side of fruit. He was hungry, and rightly so after aiding in the conditioning of a wild horse that had been imported. His cloak was drapped over the back of the chair he sat in, loose beige undershirt was splattered with patches of dirt. Breeches that covered long legs had their own spots of dirt, and well worn boots protected his feet from the environment. Dagger in hand, he sliced off a hearty sized piece of meat, and piercing it with the tip of the dagger, it was pushed past firm lips and into his mouth, where he quickly chewed and swallowed as he sawed off another slice. His golden hair was a mess, windblow, but finger combed to at least look someone decent
Beathag: "Aye, ale. Mm, dark taeday, stout as ye will please." Beathag enjoyed asking for something simple and seeing it completed without the sense of artifical propriety that infected half of the population, holding them sway in a sense of false hope. Lulled to sleep under the sway of a Griffin banner at night, somehow, things would be set right to right. Conviction to forth equaled a want to continue in that direction, but there was no want. Only force. She knew that what was begun as a means to preserve what they held dear had to be continued by them, and ultimately, finished. " Some meats n' bread if ye will, good black bread." The barkeep laughed in a gruff tone, "Lady Bess, ye've an appetite woman." She smiled over her shoulder to him as she occupied a seat at a table, opened the satchel, and settled the leatherbound folios infront of her. (d)
Eamonn: The sound of a familiar voice touched his keen ears, and the request for ale caught his attention. For a moment, hazel eyes lifted, and lo and behold it was the Lady Beathag. Trust it to Bess to ask of ale instead of the fruity boy-thingytails that women seemed so fond of. Nope, not Bess. Anything alcoholic she wanted, and if it was not, well then someone that knew her should be concerned. Personally, ale had its moments and would do if something much stronger could not be found. Eamonn enjoyed his whiskey. It was a cure for near everything, and a great thing to have on the rode. It could be used as a disinfectant, a hotty drink, a relaxing drink, or just an all purpose beverage that manymen found themselves wanting. The horse lord shoved another mouthful of venison passed his lips and chewed with haste, no reason in particular, save for habit. Eamonn always wolfed his food, most soldiers did because it was unsure how long they would have to eat until the next battle came upon them. Eyes drifted back down to his food, letting Bess fetch herself something good before he spoke.
Aislin: Aislin was never one much for pride, though now and again her stubbern ways could get the better of her. Thankfully there were those like Aman-ud-Din who was glad to walk about with her when her husband was otherwise occupied. While she trusted the male, more then most due to their arrangements. Still, Aislin did not wonder too far from the local tavern or the castle if possible. Many women had their children early and it would be just her luck to be on the wall and go into labor. Thankfully this journey only consisted of getting a few clothing items for herself and Eamonn that they had seen and agreed on before. Coin, well that was easy to come by when it came to trade. With Bess'garden she was able to make a few ointments to sell to those that may have need of it. Walking slowly by Aman-ud-Din, she had let him take the sac full of clothing though it was not heavy and even though she did not wish to, she was leaning on his arm heavily. No matter how slow she moved, she had shortness of breath and a achey back. Not even having been out and about for a hour, she was ready to go back to the inn and settle down.
Beathag: Bess knew there was something to be said for being deemed incapable of populating the world any further; her steps were long, her breathing unhindered, and it allowed her to cultivate her lifelong sense of unorthodoxy into being of use. She had never set out to be a threat to any man, in skill or in ego, but it turned out that way by necessity. She never sought to deprive herself of her sex in the wearing of breeches, only did so out of a simple fact dress hems caught at times when you didn't need them to be a bother. Even now she sat brushing a wrinkle out of said breeches while long sleeves hung over her wrist. Black boots were turned down, and a vest of green was embroidered with small pricks of blossom. Leave it to her to drink ale, wear pants, and find a way to be feminine. It wasn't until she drunk the ale and peered over the rim she'd even noticed her sister and brother of spirit at the table nearby! A bit of a grin came up as the mug came down, albeit a tired one (d)
Eamonn: Eamonn was grateful for men such as Aman-ud-Din who could watch his wife with a careful eye and report back to him on her adventures. While he wanted to give his wife space and freedoms, he did not want her going off alone and find herself in unexpected trouble without an escort of some sort with her, and one that he trusted personally. Aman-ud-Din was a good man, Eamonn was finding that out more and more, and if he could not be there with his wife, then the tall Arab made mention that it would be no chore to look after his wife. Pressing his lips together tightly, he swallowed the chunk of meat, his throat flexing under skin as the food wend down the long passage to his stomach. A gentle nod of the head was given to the blonde woman, one filled with the utmost respect and reverence. Once that morsel of food had been devoured, lips parted, and he spoke. "Good-day, Lady Beathag." He extended to her, and rose a large hand to gesture that should she wish to, she was more than welcome to join him while he waited for his wife, whenever she would be done with her errands. That same said hand reached for the mug filled with good whiskey and raised the rim to his lips. After a few good swallows, he lowered the large mug and placed it back onto the table's surface. Another chunk of meat was detached from the slabs and quickly consumed.
Aislin: It was a thought that had come to mind many times and only when Aman-ud-Din opened the door to help her inside and to her husband, did she see Bess and once more her attire was one that Aislin had not worn herself in a long time. Breeches, men's clothing. She ahd not seen them for so long or felt their comfort around her waist, but with her stomach, that would be near impossible for they would hold it too tightly to slip off and fall about her ankles. He spoke on wanting to take Tahirah to the gardens for a while. It was a beautiful place and somewhere to calm her so she could get in her nap for the day later on. "Ma'a salama" Aislin said to the two and sighed again in comforth was today as she wore a simple dark green and black dress, with narrow skirts and the material did nothing to hide her belly, but made it stick out all the more. Slowly, she was making her way to her husband bfore taking a chair that one of the men offered and helped her with and giving a soft sigh at the feeling of being off her feet. A glance was given to Tahirah and a small smile appeared on her lips to the child that stayed close to Aman-ud-Din's other side before the bag was palced by her. "Thank ye my friend" she spoke and looked back to Tahirah. " And ye my litle friend..do enjoy the honey buiscuts." Eyes turned to her husband and then Bess as they came close and Aman-ud-Din spoke on wanting to take Tahirah to the gardens for a while. It was a beautiful place and somewhere to calm her so she could get in her nap for the day later on. "Ma'a salama" Aislin said to the two and sighed again in comfort.
Beathag: The food was coming to her table when she waved in the direction of Eamonn's. Giving a small groan she stood up, gathering the folios across the open scoop of one arm before pressing them against herself. Today was a day where the height, breadth, and length of the city was felt in tightened joints. A click, crackling pop was heard as she advanced. It was as if the movement were the thing that unstuck two great pieces, and the release was a wide spread effect " G'day, Sir Eamonn. How fare ye?" A cant of head was his thanks for the invitation while her body surrendered to gravity to lower slowly into the chair. At the same time, she found herself bidding good day and farewell toAman-un-Din and Tahirah. He was a good man, and truly? There were moments he was responsible for keeping her temper intact during tumultous times. He, along with his small companion, any of them, in fact, would want for nothing if there were a way to see that done. "Ailsin, good day, m'sister! Ye look as though ye've had quite a journey taeday.." The woman was carrying a living burden just beneath the heart, and while it made a dandy place to rest one's arms it was by no means light. Meat was taken into hand, bread sliced, and the two assorted things assembled to be eaten past full lips. (d)
Eamonn: The sound of a door groaning caught on the air and drifted to his ears, eyes following the intangible path the waves of sound traveled upon, and found his wife, very pregnant, and thankfully not alone. Aman-ud-Din followed her like a shadow, and the little Pern Princess as well, seemingly attached to his leg. Cute. Eamonn lifted his eyes to the tall Arab and thanked him for escorting his wife around, and once she was seated comfortably in the chair, Heoffered her the plate of fruit that he had ordered, in case she was hungry for something. In his humble opinion, Aislin was walking too much and taking little time to rest herself. Even mares knew better and would only walk so far before taking the time to lay down and rest, for a child was no light thing to bear in the stomach. Waving the two of Pern farewell, he turned his eyes back to Bess for a moment. "Well enough, thank you. Yourself?" He asked, turning his gaze to his plate once more and working on those large slabs of venison. Now that Aislin was here, Bess had someone more loquacious to speak to, one that could keep up with conversation, for unless it was about horses and war, he was poor on other topics
Aislin: "Ah have. Even the small steps seem like a mile journey now a days. But it be good for me and the babe. " oceanic eyes went to her husband as he moved the plate of fruit to her and without hesitation she reached slender digits to collect a few pieces and pressed them into her wide mouth. Leave it to Eamonn to always offer her food, for now a days that was all she wanted any more. In silence she ate, moving her hand back and forth to collect the bits that he had yet to eat before looking around to see if a tender was moving about and if she could ask for some cheese.
Set In Her Way: "Tha' it is, and as far as ye can gae these days twill be a strong, good bairin," she said in agreeance to the benefit of such excursions,"good, strong, n' healthy." While personality was determined by experience, a certain bit of the blood played true, she thought. If a mother was vigorous, a child might prove just as vigorous if she nutured such an aspect. At other times it was a luck of the draw, but she believed Aodhan wished to be a knight so much for where he was concieved and what happened surrounding his birth as in so much he had lived his life around such things. More cheese would certainly be in order, and more of the pork. Seasoned just right, it went well with the black bread and honey. While one hand supported the act of eating, the other supported the function of figuring as she thumbed through an old manifest list (d)
Eamonn: Eamonn bit his tongue. Aislin probably had walked more than a mile, knowing her, and he hoped that she was not pushing herself too far. Eamonn knew nothing about children bearing or pregnancy, so he had no choice but to believe her when she said she was well or what the child was doing. Eamonn glanced between the two as they talked about children. Eamonn never saw himself in such a conversation before. But then again, he never thought to see himself married and going to be a father. "We hope so." After all the scares they had with that child, Eamonn prayed that the child would be strong and healthy, but even if it was not, Eamonn would not love the child any less. That baby resting in her wound was a part of him, conceived of love, and that was what it would receive. Eamonn sat the dagger down for a moment, only to pick up his mug of whiskey and down another deep swallow, washing down the bites of venison.
Aislin: "We be hoping. " Eyes drifted to her husband and she smiled wider, showing just a bit of teeth through those wide lips as they curled at the ends. "With yer stubberness and seemingly strong body..ah think are bairin will be strongand thick skinned like ye. " she teased softly. It was true, even if the child were sickly, Aislin and Eamonn would love it no less. If anything, they would love it more. Eyes went back to Bess before she reached for the sac and slid it without looking to her husband. "Ah had to get us some clothing..we are on bare material as is..it was worth the walking." Inside, if Eamonn looked, he would find tunics and breeches of a few colors, nothing overly fancy, but all comfortable material that he would relax in when around their home or wear under his armor. "Bess...ah know it be wrong of me to say, but...ah heard ye and Johanna talking and ah heard ye speak on traitors. What were ye talking about?"
Beathag: Thankful to Gods and creation, the Bannockburn was an establishment maintained by staunch folk who detested the stench of lies, as strong to Bess as the spoiled, open body of a dead pig. "Tha' bairin o' yers will be a bonnie child, lass or lad, just as bonnie. " Durable, too! The pair of them were mixed stock that stood longer, harder, and stronger than the pairing of gentleman and weepy willow women. Then to answer Aislin's question, she made notation ona side where the paper was blank, crossing out what seemed options on another. A swig of ale took the grit out of her voice," Tis nay wrong o' ye tae say Aislin. Nay at all. Ah was talkin' bout with her a few things wot stink o' treachery, and tae make ready should anythin' come tae pass o' it. " She tucked a single strand of hair behind her ears, " A great much o' this war was brought on by men who gave the English a place tae perch right under the King's nose." (d)
Eamonn: A thick brow arched and hazel eyes turned to his wife. Well, it was true that he was indeed stubborn, but Eamonn was not the only one who had a bit of a stubborn streak. Aislin had her own, and a soft, quick chuckle came from his A thick brow arched and hazel eyes turned to his wife. Well, it was true that he was indeed stubborn, but Eamonn was not the only one who had a bit of a stubborn streak. Aislin had her own, and a soft, quick chuckle came from his lips before it faded and he went back to eating. His gaze did turn to her as she mentioned the sack full of clothes that she had bought for the both of them, and Eamonn leaned over a bit to peer inside the bag. Aislin knew what he liked and wanted, and silently he commended her pickings. Turning back to his meal, Eamonn took one bite, and through mid-chew, the topic of traitors came up, and Eamonn stopped. The tall horse lord frowned deeply, and turned his eyes to Bess. Treason? If there was something that irked him more than normal, it was the act of treason and two-faced people. Eamonn inwardly growled, and any sort of mirth was wiped off of his face in an instant. "Traitors?" He finished swallowing the venison, and arched that brow again. "No good ever came to those who harboured traitors, whether or not it is knowingly. And what does the King plan to do about this?" He asked, serious and stoic in a flash
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 19, 2008 19:33:00 GMT -6
Aislin: Aislin had been wondering the same thing when Bess spoke on about it. Why would anyone want to harbor those who wished to take over a land. Aislin knew o0f greed when it came to money and she assumed that had gripped such men or womehn and made them do such acts. Aislin waited patiently for Bess' answer while food started to come. Pork, seasoned and turned well to be cooked through, cheeses of all types on a small plate for Aislin to munch on. Eyes went from one to the other as she formed her own questions. "Bess...why did the man call ye that title before. Why are we in a castle. Ah do nay understand...what has happened on ye and adam's end to make this weight be upon yer shoulders. Could ye give us a simple and fast version?" Bess was good at those.
Beathag: Another notation, another consideration before the quill pen rested. Another swig of ale, a bite of pork, more ale and the story could be told. " We went back fer ye all, and we ended up returnin' with half the capital city. Theydidn't believe Adam nor me when we first set out, and now they believe him sae well, they want tae put him above the other chieftains wot have had hold o' Skye and the outer Isles for some time. Ye've seen it lass, this might as be a whole 'nother country." The prosperity, patronage, and advancement it held had their eyes blinking rapid everyday. " There are Chieftains n' Lairds tha' want tae keep it tha' way. We're all in the castle because we are members o' the old court they believe, had a hand in savin' the lives o' the Princess and her children. The heralds sing our praises. Aislin, Eamonn, there is nothin' the King can dae, nothin'. He's in the ground or about tae be put there, and there are sae many disloyal men in those chambers now. Ah've been listenin' tae em, for two nights now. " Which was why she hardly slept once more,why Adam seemed to be ill at least on his feet," Some o' em have already partioned their lands tae the Anglish, others are only waitin for the moment tae dae it. There will be no war in these streets. They plan tae HAND this entire island o'er , just like they handed o'er where we lived. They've done it fer months. In the summer, e'ery spy, the ships that were spotted, they were spyin' and allowed tae settled there and now they are closin' in around." There was more to tell, but the details of that had to be taken in first.
Eamonn: A condensed and shorten version of Aislin's question would have been very much appreciated, for Eamonn had little patience on such serious matters that could otherwise jeopardize the safety of his wife and child. If these English were here merely to live and cause no trouble, that was one thing, but to be secretly dealing under the table with lives was another thing. Eamonn had seen it before, and he hated it. Politics decided the fates of men, women, and children. It made him sick. Eamonn scoffed openly, and made no move to hide the animosity he felt. "Power of the purse. To them, people are no more than pawns on some giant chess board. They are swallowed by lies and their own self greed. Yet, they have no idea just what these politicans and men of high power do. Apparently the price of honesty and loyalty is too expensive. Tch." He said bitterly, sawing off another chunk of venison and stabbing it with the end of his dagger. Sneering a bit, he devoured the chunk of meat quickly, and was already cutting of more, now having less than half of those large slabs of deer left. "I'll be damned if I come to a new place to live and have it corrupted. Those who are deceitful need to be taken care of swiftly and decisively. Nothing but a parasite on the backs of innocent civilians. And if those clans leaders think that a super power such as England give a damn about them, they are as stupid as they treacherous."
Aislin: Singing praises? Aislin sighed and pressed another slither of cheese into her mouth, letting the smooth taste of it roll around on her taste buds before she chewed it up and swallowed it down. Cheiftains, instead of kings and such Aislin shifted her eyesd from Bess as she finished her updating to them and moved to her husband as he seemed to snarl at the ideas thrown about. It was a very real thing in war and while Aislin had never fought a war in person, it did not mean she did not feel the backlash of it all. Her and many others remained home in inverness and had to flee with what strength they had. They had to fight to survive. "Aye...it nay be good when the king can do nothing. We did nay fight and nearly loose our lives to come here and simply find ourselves in the same situtation once more. Ah'll nay be having my children as Serena had to, in some wall within the castle like a rat of some sort. That was unfair for the princess. Who all thinks on these things then if the king will do nothing? Who will do something?"
Duncan: =- The tall Scotsman hadn't been to this particular tavern in a very long time. Sitting in a chair, he listened to the talk within the room as he lit his pipe. The conversation was one he had that very morning with Gavin, his man servant and oldest friend. It was then that he spoke to Lady Bess=- "M'Lady Bess? I've come here to give you my support along with every MacRae in this country. I will not stand for greed to overtake Scotland again. Plus, Lady Moira was accosted last night on her way home from a clansman. I rather think the man came away with a different point of view." [d]
Beathag: "Accosted?!" Her brow made a hard arch as she studied the man who pledged loyalty and gave the news in the same breath, " Sit. Tell me who the hell did it and where they be..and at the same time? Wot be ye first name, McRae?" There were so many of them she was bound to lose track without a first name as a place holder, let alone, that was a mainland clan, was it not? It had grown to such perportion that all of them were converging here. Aislin asked who would act, if the King could do nothing? " Adam n' I will be daein' somethin....tha's wot. Tha' be who be daein' somethin." It wasn't the first time she'd said it, for the other day when men accosted Adam with jeers..when they dared call her son a bastard child and her a whore to the Moors. " They are goin tae be beaten at the pass, and hard, at tha'..." (d)
Eamonn:After what he had been through, it was no wonder why. Trust was earned, not readily given, and while this man might be pledging his services to Bess, Eamonn knew nothing about him, and until he did, respect would only be given as it was shown, once again earned. The dagger in his hand and gripped a light tightly as he listened to the man's words, and at the mention of Moira's accost, his frown deepened. Such vulgar and inappropriate behavior, Eamonn was digusted by it all, and he even knew Moira. She was a sweet woman. But he did not want those sort of men near his wife and future child. That only meant trouble, and that was something Eamonn was trying to avoid. "Some of these so called 'Scotsmen' are no better than they English they gripe about. Pfft. It makes me sick to hear such vile deeds and intentions." Eamonn had a nasty temper, and already it was flaring.
Aislin: A new voice filled the air, making Aislin turn her attention towards the new male for a moment while her hand reached out to grab Eamonn's wrist gently since it was the most sensitive place she could find on him. She could feel him tense and with great difficulty she moved to scoot her chair closer to him, knowing with the stranger coming closer, Eamonn would want her there and she wanted her husband to not be so tense. Her grip loosened on his wrist and she reached her hand out to grab another piece of cheese and pull it towards her mouth As eyes danced from the new male to Bess, to her husband when he spoke. Aislin did not feel the irritation or anger that others did, she sat there looking calm as a gentle rain in may. Moving closer until her leg pressed to his through the material of her dress and his armor, clothing so they could have that silent touch while both continued to eat between words. Aislin wanted to ask how Moira was faring, but she waited to see if that question would be answered soon enough.
Duncan: "I do not expect any of you to trust me, for you do not know me or I you. But I will be damned if I let Scotland flounder because of some arses. I won't allow it! And I will make damn sure Lady Moira will be not be accosted further.My name ye ask? Duncan MacRae of Eilean Donan Castle, Dornie. I've onla recently returned back tae Scotland. and Inae like what I'm seeing. I don't blame you Sir < Eamonn> for your actions or your feelings. You have a family tae care for. If I were in your position I'd feel tha' same way. We have to fight these bast****. It never use to be this way, Lady Moira knows a bit of this I can only offer my support Lady Bess, it would be up ta you ta accept it orr not." =- He smoked on his pipe, that was the most he'd seen in ages on the subject.=- [d]
Beathag: Somewhere betwene introductions and the story concerning Moira, Beathag's mind had changed the course of track, along with her form assuming a well known stance: The near loss of patience. If eyes were sharp, her gaze would have cut the Bannockburn down the middle. " Well, Duncan MacRae? Say ye prayers because if wot ye say holds fast n' true, ye will gather names. As many as ye can tae go withwot is already known. Who, wot, where, n' why. N' if there is a single hair hurt on Moira's head, and believe me.....I will be lookin..." she rose upward, no doubt the man didn't expect the woman to near match his height with her boots on, " I might damn near hold ye suspect. Eirian gave ye a word o' introduction, somewot..but tha is nay a complete one on my part. Your peerage wants tae hurt m'kindred, m'man, and m'children and I dun plan tae be allowin' tha, ye ken?" She offered him a hand to shake, and yes, it was conditional. Honor between them would be exalted, anything less would find them very, very ill at ease. "But fer now, MacRae, ye lend ye support tae Adam n' I...ye won't see it placed wrong." (d)
Aeterno Ventus: Aislin's touch did not go unnoticed, for to some degree it did sooth him, comfort him to know that his wife was beside him and in less danger. If something went wrong, he wanted to know where she was, and when with him, he would die to see her safety. Hazel eyes sparked with green flecks did not move from the strange man by the name of Duncan MacRae. The lofty blonde horsemaster, who was sitting and his height was temporarily disguised continued to watch the dark-haired man before them, studying him to a point as to analyzing and remember his face, so if times should come down to misfortune, he would remember just who had wronged him and his wife and his friends. His gaze was a cold one that offered no warm welcome to his table. Bess spoke to the man more than he ever would, but when Duncan did address him, Eamonn's thick brows furrowed. "I have seen too many men lie through their teeth. Spout beautiful words of hope only to have them worth less than dirt. We shall see where your loyalties lie, and if your actions are noble, then perhaps I might consider you comrade. But for now, I reserve judgement." He said bluntly, making it no mystery about how he felt toward strange men. If Duncan was a good man, Eamonn would be glad to have him on their side, but you could never be too careful, and coming from a man who spent more than half his life at war and on battle fields, he had seen his fair share of scum and villainy.
Aislin: Aislin said nothing, but she kne wher husband's thoughts. He was, as he always has been and she respected that. It was one of he many reasons she listened to him now and made sure to not go wondering about alone anymore. He was her husband and while she carried his seed, so close to coming into the world, she was going to listen to him, to a point as always. Bess standing and taking th eman's hand before saying her trust would not be missplaced, had Aislin tilting her head a bit before her husband's husky voice made her head move towards him so oceanic eyes could stay there as he spoke. That once calm face turned to one that was more serious for a moment at her husband before she schooled it and shaped ti back to the calmness. Blunt as always, but she would not tell him to be nice. In a sense, he was being honest and truthful they had seen far too much already, as she was sure the man Duncan had as well. Still silent as ever, she sat by her husband and continued to feed herself and their child, shoving one bit of cheese into her mouth after the other before she reached for a fork and stabbed a bit of pork to bring it towards her mouth with one hand cupped under it to catch the juices. The moment she felt those soft spices on her tongue, the baby began to stir in her womb, shifting about and stretching gently, making her sigh as the meat was rolled about.
Moira: ~~ Moira stumbled into the tavern, her dress had burnt holes it, ashes covered her cheeks, she had a bad burn on her arm.. She tried to compose herself...she looked at Bess through tears of dispair. She looked to Duncan...and then she spoke quietly in a almost raspy voice ~~ "Ye know tha' man from last eve Duncan...well he got even wit me...my inn was burned to the ground. Nothing is left, it's gone, my dream..lies in bloody ashes. All because I refuse to turn on my friends. What has happened to Skye, it was never like this." She lowered her head as she was sitting near Bess ~~ [d]
Beathag: " Moira..." she beckoned over for water and towels at once, where was the sweet girl under all of the anguish? " Moira, ye listen tae me. After I be through here ye are comin' intae the castle..nay a single objection because now nay be the time for it, ye ken?" Her voice began to sink to an even, eerie monotone. " It will nay continue tae be this way, tis tha' simple. " She took the towel when it came, soaked it, and pressed it to the young woman's face, "Stay 'ere, dun move. " If she came from the ruins, surely, they were not far behind. In fact, she was counting on one of them to be that full enough to pass by. That brazen. Her footfalls carried her to the door and in fact, she leaned against the lintle post, awaiting the inevitable while watching for the first sign of it..(d)
Eamonn: Eamonn was brutally honest. Nice? Eamonn was polite to a point, he had manners, but he was also honest when addressed. He had been in enough wars to know that people could easily lie and that could be a deadly cost. Eamonn put no stock in foreign alliances. You never knew what they could do. Slicing off another chunk of venison, he fed himself another bite, eyes glancing to Duncan every now and than warily. The side of his leg brushed against that of his wife under the table, physical contact to know that she was there, assurance so to say. After he swallowed, the door groaned and announced the presence of a familiar face. Eamonn's frown deepened and his eyes narrowed. Moira! What had happened to her? His gaze washed over her form in full concern, and with a keen ear his listened. So they were enlisting. Those who did not join them would pay for their free choice. At this moment, Eamonn was glad that his wifeand he were staying in a castle. She would have protection, and that was important, very important. Unfortunately, Moira's choice costed her the establishment that she had worked so hard for, and he offered his sympathy to her silently as he nodded. Eamonn agreed with Bess whole heartedly. They needed to be stopped, now.
Aislin: Aislin's head turned around when she heard the doors open to the tavern, it was a habit instilled in her for some time now. Seeing moira, Aislin frowned but did not move. She simply watched as Moira came closer and waited to see if she was in need of something. It would be best to find out what happened first and Moira did not let them down as she began to sprout what was going on. Thank goodness for Bess to say sometihng and offer a place for moira. " Do ye need me to look at ye wounds..or do ye think they be ok?" she did not want to force her healing on moira, more so if the girl knew a thing or two about it, but it was a offer never the less.
Moira: " I have some salves I can use for burns. Thank you for asking Aislin. I will come out of this wretched mess and become stronger than I was before. I won't let another miserable fat over bearing fool do this to me and me not come out stronger than before. They must be stopped and if I must fight, then I will. We deserve to have our freedom and live happy lives where our children can play freely." ~~ She didn't mean to rant on and on. She looked at Duncan, something was on his mind. For now, she would sit and be quiet and think ~~ [d]
Beathag: "Mm..may need a second set o' arms, in case someone be more far reachin' than mine.." She muttered, watching as suspcious folk came up the thoroghfare. One imparticular, leaving his croonies as if he were looking for something out of placed. He damn near looked out of place. A little too boy-thingyy, too observant; a breeze was a voice over his shoulder when there was nothing there to be heard at all. His nonchalance was forced, practiced, and terribly artificial. For days she had watched suspicious folk and remained covert, telling Adam the secret to Scottish life was in essence know much and look simple. But as all things, there was a catch: Celts were notorious for being offended in spades. There was even a quiet way to take hold of something you wanted! Fingers began to undo the long leather thong holding her hair back. Winding it between two hands.." Ah trust, MacRae, ye've got a good set o' hands on ye." The woman they called " Her Grace" was poising herself to catch an interloper (d)
Duncan: "Well I than' ye Lady Bess I appreciate that." =- He walked over to Moira, he felt so utterly bad for her, he knelt before her and spoke =- "Lady Moira, I am dreadfully sorry about your loss. But I think under these circumstances, we should not see one another until this over. More fer yer sake than mine, macushla." =- He stood up. His eyes told of the pain he felt for what happened to her and how much he would miss her. She had no idea just how much. But it was time the Highland Rogue went to war again, to make Scotland free from freeloaders, and whatever else creeped along on the ground.=- "Lady Bess, I am off to gather names for you that be on our side. I will send ye a note, fer its best if I'm not seen so freely around. But I will be around in the shadowy mists. God Speed Bess. When you see a thistle...I'm around." =- With that said, he left to gather names and other things. =- [d]
Beathag: So close, so blasted close! If she had but gone out the door she could have taken him by the throat and pulled him within, but suddenly he was swept up in the oncoming throng. "God D-mn it!" she groaned, whipping the leather piece sharply so it curled around one wrist. Undone hair fell infront of eyes, swinging back and forth, back and forth. A glimmer of shiftinggreen between the veil of gold left no mystery of her intentions. She would get to the bottom of this and with it? Climb to the very top of the mountains with it. " Look fer word from meh n' mind, McRae. Stay safe, stay concealed."
Duncan: "I shall Bess. Stay safe too"
Beathag: "Ye be one o' the only ears 'pon the council o' Lairds. Do nay fail meh n' I shan't fail ye.." the reminder was poignant. Her husband was risking his throat for a pack of wolves that might turn on him at any moment. Many things lay Set In Her Way: the balance. Too many to fail. (d)[/font]
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 19, 2008 20:02:34 GMT -6
Time passed and the last remnants of the King's courts began to assemble themselves to begin a new era. Lord Griffon. Lady Hound. M'Lord. Your Graces. The people elected them in their heads while they waited, precarious, to topple downward. They have ascended into the life, and taken hold of it by the horns. In a castle atop the city of Turas Lan
While Adam has dealt with rooting out brigands by land, Beathag took the route of stoping them by the sea. Alliances were found among the clansmen in Lord Ducan MacRae, Lady Brynna MacLeod, and others that kept their name quiet for fear of discovery. Clandestine interludes brought out lists of names that matched one another. Everyone agreed that the those responsible had to be taken down hard and fast. There was no room for mistake or for error: where they failed would be a moment that could ensure their death, and Skye, if not all of Scotland, would be doomed.
No one said that working together would be an easy task. Tensions ran high between the old court and the clans, each viewing the other with utmost scrutiny. Words went out, tempers flaired, and on more than one occasion the clan informants met with the ire of those in the castle. But it could not remain this way, and things would be done to see that respect was had while the work was completed.
One day, very soon, harsh words might turn to cries of help. Who would answer them, if not one of an alliance?
Behind castle walls, much was at risk, for not even stone seemed to protect them. Bess- The quiet healer was coming into her own, and that was a fine thing to see. Bryanna MacLeod had a spark in her as vivid as the explosion caused by the Chinese solution of powders that ignited the cannons, and Eamonn? He had always been ready and sharp, forward thinking and opinionated. " Aye, tha' is the truth of things. We've nay time for foolishness, though I will remind ye, Bryanna MacLeod. As much as I favor your spark, tis best toned down and ye dae well tae remember tha' Lord Eamonn and Lady Aislin are not only m'brother and sister," she looked over a scroll as she spoke, before winding it shut and turning to the Highlander. Highlander to Highlander now, words very poignant and true. " These here were in service tae the King himself, and now? This is the Griffin Court." She stood, settling her daughter down to rest in the resting place made for her, and looked back to the assembled, " And in this court, Bryanna, Tha' man's word," she nodded to Eamonn, " is as good as writ edict from the hands o' Lord Aberdeen or m'self. Our word is set tae trump wot pettiness and foolishness is gaein' on in the streets. The only fire? The fire from the cannons of the Dutchess splitting apart any ship in half tha' dare sail off with traitor. The only blood in the streets? The heads of rollin' traitors. This man here n' his wife have had a hand already in savin' your backside. Now, Lady." she thrust papers into Brynna's hands " Take tha' fire and place it right. Gae. Make sure the ships know tae be ready." (d)
Brynna ~* Taking the scrolls, she said nary one word, she was so angry, saying anything was worthless. An angry MacLeod was like dynamite ready to explode.*~ "Since I be tha' one who needs ta prove myself..here in this box lies three hearts of the men who tried to kill me...now tell me I'm a traitor." She took her leave , the anger had not subsided and wouldn't for some hours. To the docks she went *~ (d)
Eamonn- Sorcha was the only thing right now that was keeping that snap dragon temper of his in check. Eamonn was a pistol, sure enough. He had little patience for foolishness and people who disrespected. Normally, people ignored him or ran their mouths at him. Eamonn had already gone to jail once before because of that temper in defense of his wife. Eamonn was blunt, he said what was on his mind and he meant every damn word of it. He would have had more to say to her had his child no been sitting in his lap and sucking on his finger. Eamonn heard the words of his wife, but they did little to settle his flaring temper. Eamonn was not outwardly calling her a traitor, but too many times had he seen people claim to be friends and lie about it. He had a beautiful baby girl here in his arms, and he would not let her suffer injustice because of a two-faced fiend. You could never be too sure, and Eamonn was not willing to risk the lives of those he cared about. As Bess spoke, his chin rose proudly, and his eyes did not leave the red-haired woman. At the end of it all, she took her leaves, and Eamonn rolled his eyes. The blonde horsemaster hoped not to run into her again soon, or else it would be unsure what would happen. Aislin- Aislin could not help the sigh that came from her wide lips as Bess went on and then the lady's snappy come back. She understood in a sense. Tension was high and it made people on edge. There were still emotions that Aislin did not venture in on and ignored, irritation was on one of tem, as was being offended. Aislin simply did not feel them so trying to understand those that did was a hard thing for the healer. Thankfully, Eamonn said no more after Bess spoke and neither did Brynna. As Brynna took her exit, Aislin slid her eyes down to Sorcha to see her sucking on one of his rough fingers, unable to grasp it yet but moving her small hands over it never the less. For a moment, she remained silent once more and then spoke as her eyes went to Bess. " Where be ye headed then? What will ye do on this night?" Adam- Aodhan upon strong broad shoulders, it was easy for the boy to see above the rest. Meanwhile, his Da was discussing the traitors and how to trap them. Twice Aodhan spoke, but to the shhh of Adam, he knew twas not his time to play or speak. A polite, bright boy, who far surpassed his own years. He'd come from good stock and Adam loved him as if he was his own. Learned he would be, Adam would see to it. Adam pointed to the list and looked up at a tall knight. "Thes' names are ta be arrested taenight… they pose the greatest danger with the least exposure ta our plans. Sir John, I expect they may try ta fight, but they need tae bae overcome quickly." The tall knight nods… "Aye M'Lord, they will be done." Adam reassures them and tells them that Blue Castle dungeon could hold 50 or more prisoners for a short time. "Jest those four… Ah dun wan ta tip mae hand before I need tae. M'wife'll be settin yet another trap… none shall escape… they cannae do that… all must be stopped from leavin' Skye." Aodhan made the others and his Da laughg, when he reiterated his Father. "Aye… stop em afore…" "Now Ah shall return tae m'wife. We 'ave a new bairin at the castle… Sir Eamonn and Lady Aislin. Ah must go give mae best tae em." Then the stalwart man and his son depart. Arriving back at the Castle, Aodhan, now feet on ground runs to his Mama; Adam nay far behind. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, his hand at her back, he looks at Aislin and the bairin and smiles. "Congratulations on sesh a fine bairin Aislin…" looking at Eamonn, he smirks. "Ah didn't know ye had it in ye Eamonn old friend." Beathag: She watched Brynna leave with no invisible disproval at the show of temper. The woman was fiesty, and that was well and good for the blacker business they sorted through, but it would not be allowed in these halls. Never. It would be very clear who kept this castle and who comprised the court. " Gae," she told the guard who had seen the events unfold," shadow her n' make sure tha' temper does nay get her, nor any one else near her, killed. " They could not afford to lose MacLeod support, but she would not have anyone in these halls made into a fool by any remark. As for the hearts in the box upon a table...she picked up the box without any desire to look at the contents. " Get rid of it, now. Ah will not have this house be the seat o' barbarians n' demons. Send guard tae the MacLeod's door, and anyone tha' says anythin' about this...dun *Waist a minute. " Who knows what enemies might try? By the time she had come back to her chair, she held Aodhan close., not wanting any of the children surrounded by such carnage. But it subsided into easier things, she kissed Adam's cheek in return as the four adults could now settle with their families (d) Eamonn: Eamonn's eyes did not leave Brynna's form until she was far form sight, and only then did he roll his eyes again and grumble something to himself. Some people did not show respect. While he made it obvious that he did not trust or openly welcome her, he did not disrespect and insult her. To him, it seemed as if Brynna was insulting him, doubting his skill or even his worth in Scotland. He could be wrong, but that was how it came across to him, and Eamonn was not about to let ANYONE talk down to him. He had seen too much hell to let someone call his unknown deeds insignificant. Bess took care of it far nicer than he would have, and for that he was glad. Hazel eyes lifted and turned to Adam. Eamonn would have stood to greet the man, as it was customary in a court, but the little girl in his lap was making sure that he would not make a move any time soon. Eamonn was going to cater to his daughter's every whim. He arched a brow. "Of course I did. I am a man after all. However, it all depended on whether or not a woman was willing to put up with me. Aislin has, and how I have no idea." He said point-blankly, casting a glance to his wife and flashing a quick smirk her way. Eamonn wouldn't love just any woman, he only had a heart for one, and that was Aislin. Now, they both had a child, and she was the center of his world just as Aislin was. His two leading ladies. Aislin: Aislin went right back into her silence as Adam and Aodhan joined them once again before looking to Eamonn, seeing that he did not stand as normal, no doubt due to Sorcha being in his arms. Oceanic eyes turned back to Adam as a soft smile appeared to him. She had met the man a few times and what mattered most was that he was decent and made Bess more happy then Aislin had ever seen her. it was wonderful when a pair matched in most everything came together. "Thank ye lord Adam..it nay be easy...but she be here now." Her husband's words were not lost on her and eyes slid his way for a moment before going back to Bess and Adam. "Ye did nay answer my question...where be ye off. Adam...are ye going as well with Bess on this voyage?"
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 19, 2008 21:56:49 GMT -6
With the work of the rag-tag assembly, the Winter War of 1328 would bring a victory to those that offered their hands, hearts, and lives to Scotland. Lord Adam would give to Eamonn and Aislin a deed for 200 acres of land, and enough horses to live a life beyond the castle walls. Lord General and Elite Horsemaster was Eamonn, and Court Physican was Aislin, now a Lady in her own right. The birth of their child Sorcha was a testament that joined the children of the Princess in celebrating the bearing of life in black times. No field could be barren so long as the dream that was kept for the growth it might yield never perished.
In the midst of a moment of revels, Laird Duncan MacRae brought into the castle a man who had loosed his title for the purpose of concealing his identity as a dock hand. There was no end that they would not elect to use, no device, so long as it obtained what was sought: The acquisition of Skye and Scotland to the English, and their names secured with gold, no matter who sat upon the throne.
By any means necessary Beathag: " Tae Lord Eamonn, Lord General and Elite Horsemaster.. may long be the days o' his house n' mighty office," she drunk well to that, chuckling softly at Adam's refusal of being deemed Lord in lordly halls. She concured, saying to them ," Just Beathag or Bess twixt us, I hear tae much yer lady or yer grace. Makes me want tae gouge m'self in the head make m'self a wee bit deaf.." She went to stoke the fire herself. Two hands, capable, and proud to possess them, added in another log and prodded into higher life." Tha' Arab is the finest thing wot happened tae m'patience in years! Maybe he can make sure we dun offend somebody," she said, returning to Adam's side with a grin, "Zahak n' Eirian? Tha' be vera simple. Served them I did for some years afore they came tae Inverness. The former General himself wishes tae retire, and they both be amazin' people o' learnin..and artisans. A good place tae make home, saw somewot I did! Right in the cullins..the fertile crescent just behind..full o' nature n' such. " (d)
Eamonn: Eamonn was nearly rendered speechless. He did not know what to say at first, still bewildered by the bestowments of two friends. Yes, it was true that he had grabbed a hold of Adam before he could fall into that dark abyss, but had Bess not had that axe and Aislin not spot him under that thick sheet of ice, both of them would have been gone. The tall horse lord blinked, and nodded to the two as they both commented on a more colloquial way of address, not truly blaming them, but being polite all the same. He raised his glass of whiskey. "To the end of injustice. To good health and the prospect of a brighter future for our children." He said, before downing the glass of whiskey fully with a few deep gulps. Eamonn had worked his way up to general, something he never knew he would achieve. He was proud of that, and would not let them down or Scotland. Duty before thyself. Duty as a father, as a horseman, and as a defender of Scotland.
Adam: "Here here !!" he exclaimed, then downed his own drink in a hefty swallow. Looking at his diplomat of a wife, he winked. "Yes M'heart… to Zahak and Eirian, I will get them what they wish most…something... That Arab shall have his hands full keepin' us out of trouble luv…" he laughed… something which he had not done in months. "I would like the Queen to bestow something along advisors on them… and something on Aman… Maybe yu can work something out with the Queen… oh and do not forget Dmitrii and Kaelyn… for outstanding heroism…" Lord... it had not sunk into him yet... but acceptance would not come easy, for greed played no part... he just wanted to live with his family:::::
Beathag: " Aye, he will, but if he can keep me from tossin'm'crew o'erboard he can keep us from puttin' tae many people in the dungeon....or slappin' the nobles." They were undoubtedly rough around the edges and had to be reminded, every now and again, not to react right out of the gut with the hands, but with the mind! " Ah'll talk tae her Highness, mayhaps a walk about the gardens o' the city. Twill be good fer her..." Her face held a furrowed brow, for she was worried deeply for the young woman. As it was, she heard from the servants these days that Eirian was ne'er far from her," And some time with the ladies, aye, Aislin? Ye n' Eirian seem tae soothe her well enough." Her steps carried her over to the fire, hands resting upon the mantle as she sighed, "Tha' is another thing all taegether. We have tae protect Serena and the children. Tis a horror. The Monarchy in shambles, nay doubt her country will be out tae try n' find her, along with God knows who. They are gaein tae be lookin for anyone from the court with any royal blood wot sae e'er... Eirian, nay doubt e'en Kaelyn. Dimtri. Tis why those ships can nay get past the ring, and we have tae know everythin' tha' comes in and out." Clan politics were twisted, court politics? Even more twisted still, and they were thrust into the center light of the whole lot of it (d)
Aman-un-Din: Aman-ud-Din pursed his lips together and gave a sharp whistle, the dogs ceased their barks and runs, and wagged their long tails from side to side. The tall Arab sat Tahirah down and once her little feet were placed down on the ground, she scampered off up the steps and to their room, the hounds of the sands close on her heels. The dark-haired Arab chuckled and chocolate eyes watched as she made her way up the stairs and out of his sight, no doubt running to their room and closing the door behind her and the dogs. Since they had been here, already the room that Bess and Adam had given them was looking very Middle Eastern, with the artifacts about and the textiles that were about the room. It was home, why not make it look like it as well? A large hand liftened and fingers ran through his long waves of hair, pushing them from his face. He had heard in the streets, though whispered, of possible arrivals and bartered lands, which did not sound to be of kingly business. Suspicious. He thought to ask Bess of it, so before he retired to his room, he sought out the blonde woman. The black and silver cloak that he wore of his home, the fur one still in his room, swirled around grey boots as heels clicked against the stone and toward the hall where not just Adam and Bess resided, but Eamonn and Aislin as well! A soft smile appeared on his lips as he dipped his chin. "Masah al khair! What a pleasant surprise!" He commented, before his gaze turned to Eamonn and to the little babe he held. His smile widened and he glanced between the new parents. "Al hamdu lillah! Congratulations to both."
Eamonn: Indeed, they had all earned their stars and stripes on this one, and Eamonn could not think of anyone more than perfect for the Arab than that of a diplomatic position. The man had the patience of a saint. Eamonn could not understand how he could have such patience. Even when people insulted him, the man seemed not bothered by it. Amazing. Footfalls were heard, and hazel eyes shifted to the doors. Speaking of the Arab, there he was, dressed in the clothes of his people, despite the fact that he had been in Scotland for some time. Eamonn nodded to the man as he poured another glass of whiskey. "Thank you, my friend." He replied as Aman-ud-Din sent his congratulations upon the birth of their child. Aislin smiled as well and thanked him, before she turned back to her drink
Adam: Adam stood in his black surcoat with the golden griffin, looking ever the Lord. He had an enjoyable evening. Still several things pounded on his mind… the Traitors… and those left behind… he had made a promise.The misattention played heavily on him, he stared into space past friends, past his love… and only the Tower Clock striking its tolls brought him back to reality. "Och; Ah best be heading into the city; Ah 'ave an appointment with clansmen and they 'ave an appointment with a dungeon." Such a wicked smirk came over his face… one that seemed eerie to most… All this had been and is playing upon his mind and only his family and friends provide him guidance.Bidding everyone a good evening… he leans down to Bess, kissing her. "Ah'll be back late dearest… 'ave a cold ale and a warm bed waitin for me…" winking at her. Then a slim stalwart man in black heads for the door to further destiny.::::
Beathag: "Aman-un-Din, good evenin! Ye've come just in time tae see the new small bairin o' the court. All o' this bloomin' and tis nay e'en Spring yet." Life moved on in circles that made the knotwork so prevalent in Celtic life. She touched the charm's piece on her wrist, only awaiting the chance to complete the promise made some months ago. The man that called her husband would have a wife, proper and true. They deserved that happiness, to at least be joined in a way none could sever. In the company of family and friends he was at peace with himself, but the plague of guilt, anger, and the theif of anguish took his focus at times. She was just about to summon him back to them when the bells tolled and called the Griffon Lord off once more, " Be careful, be safe," she told him ,accepting his kiss as unknowingly he made a piece of the woman lurch at the sound of his steps leaving. Boots rang out to her long after he left, a great sigh given as her hands moved to rub at the temples of her head (D)
Aman-un-Din: Another nod was given to Eamonn as he smiled down upon the little girl in his arms. Aislin spoke of her name, and brown eyes drifted back to Aislin for a moment. Sorcha Briannon Creed. A beautiful name for a beautiful child. It was a fitting name, even though he did not understand the meaning of it fully. It did not matter, Aman-ud-Din still respected it. His gaze drifted to Adam as he stood, and that dark bearded chin was dipped reverently. "Maasalaamah..good-by Lord Adam." The tall Arab bid him well, and even though he did not know the man fully, he also had heard of him, and the things that had been said were not bad or cruel in the slightest. Once he was out of sight and off to perform the duties that were set upon him, chocolate eyes turned to Bess, and he walked around the table to her side. "Forgive my intrusions. Had I known that you were sitting down for a meal, I would have sought you another time."
Beathag: " Nay, Aman. Come, m'friend, sit and drink with us, eat with us here. Always are ye welcome at a table where ye find me n' mine." She offered him an open chair so he might sit and elect a refreshment of his chosing. Aodhan came over right away upon hearing the door, seeing him enter and bestowing his leg the customary squeeze. He then climbed over to his mother to inquire of her a question," Muma, did Da gae off tae find the bad men again?" To this she nodded, finding small fingers twining in her hair," The bad things make ye head hurt, Ah'm sorry. Will a kiss make it better?" He was a bright child, yet his innocence was still intact. Green eyes settled on mixed colored orbs as she nodded to him with a smile, finding a kiss to her brow before he slipped down and ask a servant if he might follow them to where they'd go. The very thought of anything marring that perfect innocence fueled her desire to see this end all of the more, and for the sake of Adam's spirit. It was crushing him behind closed doors. (d)
Aman-Un-Din: Nodding, he hoped that he had not disturbed them all, and seeing that he had not, he smiled softly. Moving to the seat that had been offered, he was about to seat himself until the sight of little Aodhan came into his view and when the boy did approach, Aman-ud-Din's long leg received a squeeze, and the lofty Arab chuckled softly and patted his head. "Marhabbah Little Warrior!" He greeted, the little boy before he toddled off toward his mother and allowed the man to sit down. Mother and son spoke, and Aman-ud-Din was quiet, listening silently to the two. So that was where Adam had gone, or was going. That had only further confirmed his suspicions. "Hmm..So the whispers upon the wind are not complete fallacies.." He commented, almost to himself as one of the servants came over and offered a glass of ale or whiskey. Aman-ud-Din shook his head. "No thank you, It is against my customs to consume alcohol. Cinnamon tea, if it is not too much trouble." The lofty Arabian replied, and the servant nodded and was off to get his tea.
Aislin:The drink she ahd been nursing was placed down on the table slowly, letting slender fingers uncurl from the mug as she watched Aodhan and Bess' intereactions together. Such a sweet boy, he was going to be a fine man and make some some lass happy with his caring and adventurous ways. Aman-ud-Din's presence was always calming and she always welcomed it. "Ah think ah would like something stronger then juice." Aislin said before looking to her husband's whiskey and reaching for the bottle to slid it towards her. The top was removed and jsut a small amount was added to her juice before she pressed the cork top back into the rim and shoved it back towards him. One long finger pressed itself into the cool drink and stirred for a moment before she pulled it back from the liquid, rose it towards her mouth and let her wide lips wrap around that slender digit to suck the juices from it. Hand lowered and the drink was rose to her lips before she consumed it, letting oceanic eyes dance from one person to the other over that rim.
Bess: Aodhan was indeed a light of Bess' life, in that he was her first born. Her only born son, and the bond they shared of blood, skin, and spirit meshed was one that reminded her that all in the world was never lost. As he wentaway, she poured herself more ale with an intent to rest her leg well before she'd have to stand on deck for several hours in what had been dubbed " The Ring of Fire". " The rumors are true, Aman-un-Din. We've names, and e'ery list comin' back speaks o' the same men, and deeper still, sae we are beginnin' tae act now, and act quickly, to put such things tae an end." She nodded to the lists Lord Adam and the MacLeod woman had gathered, eerily similar. Her own writing consisted of ships, captains, manifests, and who would be most likely to leave by ship, for Adam had already gone off to arrest the first crop of people this evening. Moving in stages was imperative, to use what hand they had and not force it. (d)
Aman-un-Din: Chocolate hued orbs glanced over to Aislin as she requested something a bit stronger than just the juice. That thick, dark brow arched as he watched her add a bit of her husband's whiskey into her juice and stir it, making a strangeboy-thingytail of fruit and alcohol. Shaking his head, he turned his eyes back to Bess as she spoke. So it was true. Traitors with fickle needs and willing to risk the lives of others for the sake of their own personal gain. He frowned, and leaned back in the chair, thumb and forefinger stroking the end of his chin. "That is not good news indeed...with these arrest, I hope you are prepared to repel their supporters. Is it known how long these men have been formulating these plans?" He asked, and when the servant came back with his tea, he thanked the man and pulled the cup closer to him.Eamonn's gaze turned to his daughter, and as Bess and Aodhan talked, his attention was turned to his lovely little daughter. She gurgled again and he chuckled softly, wiggling his finger a bit as she seemed so preoccupied with it.
Eamonn: Little legs kicked, and her fingers held his fingers, already she was getting a stronger and strong grip. Such a keen little girl, Eamonn was proud of her, so very proud. Hazel eyes lifted as Aislin added a bit of whiskey to her drink, and like Aman-ud-Din, his brow arched. Interesting. Rolling his eyes, he listened to the dialogue betwixt Bess and the Arabian. Indeed, if these men had time to formulate this plan and deal, there was no telling what sort of force they were building in secrecy. "Whatever the size, they must be dealt with swiftly. I will take a few scouting parties to patorl the lands to prevent any more surprises. I've had enough of that in Inverness."
Aislin: Aislin did not miss that look from Aman-ud-Din and slender shoulders flexed and rotated under her baggy dress in a 'oh well' type of motion before she listened to his words. Talk turned once more to that of the traitors in the lands. Eyes slid to see her husband entertaining their daughter who was oddly enough, still awake. Soon she would have to take her to feed her. "Aye husband...that be a good idea." turning to Bess and Aman-ud-Din, she inquired about another matter. "When will ye be back from the journey Bess? Do you expect trouble on it or no?" more of that drink would be consumed as the mug rose to her lips and was tilted back, letting the mixed liquids splash down her throat to move into her belly, warming her slightly though not enough to get a true affect. After a moments time she placed the mug on the table and looked to her husband. "Ah'll be needing to feed her.." hands went our expectantly for Sorcha.
Duncan: -= The Scotsman and a friend of his named Gavin had a surprise for Bess. And he could not wait to see her expression..his booming deep voice spoke to the guard, the guard knew him from previous visits. In he walked, thus he spoke to Bess=- "M'Lady Bess, I've brought someone you might like to know....I believe you already do...BUT..he is a traitor to his clan and country. Gavin? Bring the lout in, before I clout tha' blackhear' in the face." =- Gavin brought in the man Bess knew as a dockhand. In reality he was Laird of Clan Menzies. =-
"I say what manner of nonesense is this MacRae?!"
Beathag: Clan relations were fickle things; one minute for you, the next against, and in the same turn allies still could anger with the flare of a temper. The evening had calmed, the talk of traitors subsiding into opinions, plans, and objectives until the moment the bombing voice of Chieftan MacRae echoed into the open door of the foyer. No rest for the weary this night: the Lady's countenace rose to her full height lifted an inch o'er more from the boots on her feet. Anger flashed like a storm within her gaze, hands white knuckled as they were caught in one another's hold. " Laird MacRae, have ye man take him up and out intae the hall tae deal o' this. There be children within.." She would make a point to introduce the man at another injuction, but for now? She crossed the room, eye to eye with the Laird of Clan Menzies..." Ah've e'ery mind tae throttle the life from ye.." she hissed at him in low tone for his ears alone..moving into the hall and looking over her shoulder for the lout to be carried behind her. (d)
Aman-un-Din: A large hand lifted the rim of the cup to his lips, and steam rising from the the heated liquid of a brown collar due to the cinnamon spice added to it. A tentative sip was taken, before he lowered it from his lips and the sound of voices and steps came into view. Aman-ud-Din frowned as the man was brought in, apparently angered at being treated as a criminal. Only the lord and he knew if he was, but the truth was about to pulled out of him one way or another.One thing that the Arabian noted was that these people of Europe were LUCKY not to be in the lands of Pern with the crimes they commited on a daily basis! Punishment there was far more severe than any European would know. Brown eyes turned to Bess as she spoke of children, and raised a good point. This would not end well, already tension and anger were in the air, and Aman-ud-Din sighed, shaking his head. "Ma adhri Allah.." He whispered, taking another sip of tea.
Eamonn: Eamonn had been ambushed in the woods of Inverness as they were lit aflame. They were the first distraction and warning that the English were coming to destory and take control of Scotland, and with so little a force and not enough time to prepare, they had been forced to retreat, in which he lost his home. Burned. Eamonn glanced to his wife as she spoke of their child being hungry, and opened her arms to take the child. Eamonn blinked, and held her closer to him. "Right NOW?" He inquired softly with a raised brow, not really wanting to give her up just yet. It was then that the doors opened, and booming voices were heard by men. Sorcha, startled by the loud noises, sniffled and squirmed, lips pulled out into a pout and her eyes watering. Eamonn snapped his attention to the new 'guests'. He was not happy. Bess already reprimanded them, but Eamonn was not going to let them get away with such a 'nice' warning. "Where are your damn manners? There ARE children in here and your damn mouths are causing distress. I suggest you take that ELSEWHERE before I take limbs and tongues." He growled out angrily, before turning to his daughter and trying to sooth her
Aislin: Prepared for Eamonn to put up a small fight for their daughter, Aislin held her hands out patiently waiting for him to grumble and/or complian and not give up their daughter. Sure enough, he gave a slight fight or delay when he asked if she meant right now. "Aye...right now before she gets fussy.." Attention was easily stolen as the booming voice of a male was heard in the distance and men moved inside. Bess's words made Aislin looked to Aman-ud-Din because he was the only one calm like her really. Indeed it was how the pairs worked. Bess and Eamonn were very much alike in their manners and voices, were Aman-ud-Din and Aislin were very much alike in their own aspects. Eamonn's words and her daughter's sniffles made her head turn towards his arm and as he reprimanded others, Aislin moved to reach for their new born. She was not upset as others. Things happened. How where they to know that there were children in here? Such tempers...Eamonn soothing their child was short lived, for Aislin reached for the beautiful girl as tears showed in her eyes and slid her hand under her head to pull her from Eamonn's lap."Ye getting all worked up does nay help husband." she warned as she pulled Sorcha towards her own lap.
Duncan: =- Turning his head he narrowed his eyes to the screaming of the father who was making more noise than he was. He'd had enough and bowed to Bess, thusly speaking to only her.=- I brought ye a traitor, if ye wish any more of meh help, you've onla tae send a message tae me. And before I leave, would ye give this tae Lady Moira, I would appreciate it vera much Bess. " =- He bowed to her and made his way out in silence. You could feel the tension, cut it with a knife. But he was sick of ill mannered foreigners who had no damn manners=- [d]
Beathag: She canted her head to Lord MacRae in a curt, brief fashion. " Aye, M'Laird. I appreciate your effort and this showin' o' force. It makes fine presentation...ye will be contacted, sir." Even she knew what boiled beneath his skin : because to the Lairds they were upstarts from the mainland. The fractured, shattered remains of a glorified idea. What came of Bannockburn, of Robert the Bruce, and of the Lot family but the talk of warriors, scars, and a fallen country? Who was to say that this court would not make Skye fall..or what if they sought to take the entire country? Tensions ran high in the hall as the Chieftain demanded to be given quarter; a chance to explain, proper representation by his collegues. A servant shut the door to the room everyone else occupied right as a hand reached out and took the man by his collar. (d)
Aman-un-Din: Aman-ud-Din sighed and shook his head. It was not simply the father's tongue lashing that upset the child, but the tension in the air already stirred by the rather sudden entrance of the men. Eamonn's growl, while it was not quite as loud as the boisterous intrusion, it was nonetheless not helping make the baby calm. Tempers were flying both ways, and that was never a good thing. Aman-ud-Din watched as the clansman narrowed eyes at Eamonn. Aman-ud-Din rolled his eyes and glanced to Aislin. Rising from his chair, he placed a hand on her shoulder before be turned and headed for the doors as the servant closed them. The lofty Arab grasped the door to stop it from closing all the way, and slipped out, the door closing behind him. Aman-ud-Din followed behind Bess with a concerned look on his face. "Lady Beathag..."
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 19, 2008 23:20:07 GMT -6
Eamonn: Eamonn had little patience. Had he, Eamonn would have ignored the men and settled for soothing his child instead. But the fact that they had upset his child made the new father go into a defensive mode and quick. Sorcha was not happy, and that made Eamonn upset. His gaze turned toward his wife as she tried to pull Sorcha into her lap. Eamonn frowned, and still in that protective mindset, he pulled away, holding Sorcha closer to his and his large hand rubbing her back soothingly. "I am calm." He hissed out, still not wanting to hand his daughter over just yet. Her little body shook a bit, and her little hands clung to his gambeson, legs kicking as she got more fussy. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head to the side and kissed the side of her little head, shooting a mild glare at Aislin. He meant no harm by it, but he was attached, and not wanting to give up his little girl so easily, trying to protect her. Slowly, she began to settle down as the noises subsided and the loudness was behind closed doors.
Aislin: The weight of Aman-ud-Din's large and gentle hand on her made Aislin sigh softly, like a bit of the tension vanished from her area, making Aman-ud-Din the wind that cleared the smoke to her. She could never explain it and she never tried. Aman-ud-Din and her simply had that odd connection from sharing the same mind set and spending so much time when Eamonn was away. Aman took care of Bess and Aislin was left with the bull known as Eamonn. When he snatched the child from her reach, Aislin frowned. She knew he was attached, but she had birthed the child as well as carried it about for over nine months. Aislin would never say such things though and pulled her hands back to wait as he settled and calmed their daughter. Aislin rose from her seat and walked to where Edme was still asleep, seemingly undisturbed by any noises that came and went. When she turned about, she moved back to her husband and waited expectantly for their child.
Beathag: Aman-un-Din caught the heavy door as the hinges groaned with in malice at the sudden jerking. His voice cut through the din and the scene before him seemed to still: The Laird of Clan Menzies was irrate. Thinking to reach forward and hold Beathag's arm, as the guard came to hold him back, instinct made her reach out and take his collar. Now the hard portion? Telling instinct to let it go. War had marred her, knicked her, bled her out until she was nearly hollow. The hand trembled for a few seconds more as the free one refrained from grasping the other side of the collar all tog " Hell ne'er spurned such a b--ch.." he spat at her, " you will give me my quarter! There is a way to things, and the clans have lived far longer than any Lord o' the Isles, any King!" Beathag stood now, no Bess, no gentility, and it was as if..that hound of battle..had took hold of her hands. Snarling, she thrust him back to the guard, " Take him, out o' m'sight. Put him in a room at Blue Castle...guard all ends o' it. He will be spoken with later. From now on, they will be dealt with there.." There was a way to do things . If only propriety could be damned! She looked to Aman-un-Din and sighed, turning round to return where they had been. Further down the hall Aodhan had completed his circuit with a maid, visited the cook, the laundress, and sat with older boys who were being trained in the knighthood as they told tales. He was filled with things to tell them! His fingers were in maids , his eyes lighting up as he saw Aman-un-Din and his mother, but became a sharp, serious frown as he had seen the altercation unfold. The maid gasped and drew the boy too her as he called out," Don't touch Mama! Don't touch her! That's my Mumma! " she tried to sush her, lead him into the other room. The Laird of the Menzies struggled against his lost confinement, breaking free, and that was when he nearly toppled over those near, bolting after him. It was not the woman he plucked up, but pushed aside instead, sending her whimpering into the wall as as he pulled hard on the boy's arm." No! Ye are mean, I DONT WANT YOU TO TOUCH ME!" Aodhan began to scream, to cry, bite and kick as he was held fast in hard arms squeezing him as the man began to run the distance toward the doors. The hall was in a flurry. Guards running, the maid being assisted...and Bess scream " AODHAN!" (D)
Aman-un-Din: If there was anyone here right now that knew Bess' temper, it was Aman-ud-Din. He knew the woman was near identical to Eamonn in temper, and would sooner cut someone with a blade or axe opposed to speaking with them. Her temper was worse than a viper of the sands. The cobras of the East that when agitated, bit anyone near. The man was taken away, and Aman-ud-Din stopped, watching Bess carefully, taking note of the distress look upon her face and he sighed once more. By her side he walked, the heels of his grey boots clicking against stone. At first he said nothing, knowing that Bess was seething within in frustration, and anger what what the man being towed away has caused and what he wasstirring behind curtains. It was then that things happened so fast, it was hard for people to predict their coming. Chocolate hued orbs shifted to the hall ahead, hearing the voice of Aodhan scolding the man they were dragging pass him by. Aman-ud-Din frowned, and watched as the scene unfolded. Breaking from his bonds and captors, the clansman shoved the woman aside, caused the guard to stumble, and scooped up the boy and took off. Aman-ud-Din frowned deeply, and took off after the man as guards scrambled about in persuit. If you could run on sand, you could very much run on any terrain. Like a silent stalker, Aman-ud-Din skirted by guards slowed down in their armour, while he wore only cloth over his body, making his tall form lighter. He wove through the crowd in a whirl of black, quickly gaining on the man and reaching a hand out. Long fingers curled around the collar of the man and yanked, snatching the man backward and with a hand that moved quicker than sight, that long, curved sword of the Middle East was whipped out and the blade mere inches from the man's neck. "Release the boy, or I will smite your ruin upon the stone here, I swear to God you will not make it pass those doors, serpent."
Aeterno Ventus: The bull that was Eamonn was stubborn, and protective, especially of the little girl that he delivered. It was true, Aislin had carried her for nine months and birthed her, but what was he suppose to say in defense to that? Physically, he could not detest that or counter it. Men did not give birth, even if he wanted to, it was physically impossible for him. The blonde rocked the child pressing close to his chest as he craddled her tiny frame against his larger one. His eyes lifted to see Aislin standing there now, gazing down at him expectantly. He arched a brow. "What?" Eamonn asked. He knew what, but the warrior did not want to hand over his baby girl just yet. He loved the feel of her in his arms. However, muffled sounds and commotion caught his attention, and Eamonn frowned. Now he had no choice. Rising to his feet quickly, he passed Sorcha over to Aislin with care, minding her head. A hand went to the hilt of his sword as he crossed the room toward the door and opened slightly to see what was going on outside.
Aislin: Aislin understood and she loved that fact that her husband was so protective of their child, for no one else ever would be save them, at least not in the same manner. Still, his temper had been inforced not once but twice already. What? She was about to growl his name with muffled sounds and cries outs came to where they were, making Aislin look to Eamonn as he rose and carefully handed Sorcha over to her. Aislin pressed the child tightly to her bossom and moved towards Edme who was stirring and started to rise her head as if she heard the noises too. Aislin approched with a soft smile as the girl looked up to her and with one free hand to rubbed Edme's back gently, trying to coax her back into her resting state while Sorcha stared over her shoulder at where her father had went off too and started to sniffle softly as the absence of his presence. Aislin soothed her with a gentle rocking and patted her small rump as Eamonn did.
Beathag: " Stop him! Do nay let him past those doors! Aodhan! Aodhan! " The movement of men forward sent her almost reeling back, having to push against them in the direction the man was heading with Aodhan. The boy was a furious ball of instinct and raw nerves as he kicked the man in the ribs until his feet were flailing outward in the dash. He held on to keep from slipping, his hands not wanting to. But he would fall if he didn't! Tears fell from his eyes as they connected with Aman-un-Din and his mother. His mouth was opened in a fevered cry that began to turn his face scarlet," You're hurting me! " He sobbed, " Mama! Mama!" Quicker than the blink of an eye, the unburned Aman-un-Dinhad gone from the stillness of a sphynx to a lion with revealed claws. The Laird of Menzies could see the doors, but he would not make it there. Recoiling backward, he snapped, making his hold on the boy tighten as he cried out. Aodhan had slipped, but the man still had him, hard, about the shoulders, near his clavicle. He looked between his token item and the Arab..a cold sweat on his face. Eamonn saw Beathag come near them, one of the guards managing to still her progress, for her safety and the boy's. Her face had blanched of any color, her eyes a mixture of rage and a terror that would pierce that heart of any parent, new or many times over. She trembled. She seethed. But she couldn't move. The feeling of helplessnes. (d)
Aman-un-Din: Aman-ud-Din was a quiet man, but that did not mean he did not have a serious, and deadly side. He did not shout profanity or give rage-filled screams. Just as those Saluki hounds bounded after lions without a bark or howl, the man of the East wasa silent killer, having no need to scream. It was if God had given him wings and bore him toward the child who was crying and struggling for his release. Brown eyes lowered to the boy as he noticed he had slipped, but the man did not release him. A deadly expression passed his features, as the blade of the long, cuved sword was pressed into his neck harder, threatening to slice it clean off. Aman-ud-Din did not like killing, but if he had to, he had no regrets of separating the man from his head. "I will not tell you again. If you value your life, let the boy go, for I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy his children. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee." The Arabian said coldly, accent thick but his words clear as day.
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 19, 2008 23:21:14 GMT -6
Eamonn: Eamonn slipped out of the room, the door closing behind him as hazel eyes danced around the scene that was transpiring. Bess was the first thing he saw and a guard restrain her, holding her back from something. Quickly his eyes followed the path of guards that surrounded the tall Arab with his sword unsheathed and pressed to the man's neck. Eamonn's hand did not move from the hilt of his sword as he stood by Bess and had no choice but to watch. Aman-ud-Din would not let the man hurt her son, but any interference might make things worse. Eamonn wanted to kill the man, but kept that thought to himself as he laid a hand on Bess' shoulder, a deep scowl upon his features.
Beathag: Aodhan had cried so hard he could only whimper now, looking up with a trembling lip to his mother, Eamonn. Aman-un-Din was right there, but why wouldn't the man let go? He had seen the bad men before, but why was he acting so different? Did he not care that he was hurting him, practically impressing his fingers down into layers of skin? He slipped, and his nails scratched at him underneath his clothes. He wanted to get down...to go to his mother. Beathag stilled only at the touch of Eamonn's hand for only certain people could fathom the depths of others. Aislin had listened to her stories one night upon a shore, and became as special to her as even Eirian had, who had held Aodhan as a baby. Eamonn literally fought for survival at her side, and now..was the thing that kept her still. As the blade pressed harder into him he winced, letting the boy go. Aodhan crumbled to the floor, curling up, but still no one moved. It was better to let Aodhan move away....then to risk being caught unawares. " Defending the b--ch, the bastard, and the little heir spawn, eh? What sort of family is this? Half English man, a bytch of a poor Scott...and a Blackamoor abomination. How long dae ye think it'll last...eh?" He knew he had been bested. (d)
Aman-un-Din: The reason that Aman-ud-Din did not smite him here and now was because while the man was evil and with ill intentions at heart, the man had information, valuable information if he was trying to grab Bess' son and make off with him. There was knowledge to be gained here, and it was the Lord's hand that kept Aman-ud-Din from slicing his throat, and also His will that made the man release Aodhan. Hearing the boy hit the ground, the tall Arab sighed inwardly, but did not release his hold on the man just yet. The words that fell from his lips were cold, cruel, and like acid, but Aman-ud-Din knew how to rein his temper and keep it in check. "The sort of family that God safeguards from the tyranny that threatens to destroy them. I defend the righteous in the name of the Lord. It will last longer than your life shall. It is God's will, and it is his hand and mercy that stays my hand even now. Touch that boy or any other child of Skye, and you will see the pale horse that cometh, and with him the fires of Hell." Came the cold reply, as Aman-ud-Din sent a swift kick to the back of his knees, a harsh blow that would send the man to his knees and give the guards time to restrain him, bind him, and carry him away.
Beathag: She saw them speaking, but heard nothing. Movement, the pressure of a hand, but not the weight or the substance of touch itself. All she saw was her son infront of her, slipping onto the stone floor. Curling onto himself, before he took to his feet, sniffling..shaking.. moving behind the guard and holding to them as one holds fast to a firm tree in the midst of a ferocious storm. The Laird went down, cursing against the name of those within. Information he had, indeed, which was why he had been suffered to live the length of time he did. " I want..mah Mumma.." he sniffled, " Mumma." The Little Warrior was no more than a child of four, no matter how lofty his dreams or the spires of his world of strength ascended to. He had been scared cold, frightened, and was hurt with no understanding as to why. As the guard went forward, finally restraining the man, she felt Aodhan move his way to her and hold onto her so fast it would be hard to think he'd ever let go. He was between his mother and Eamonn now, nuzzling into her skirts. " Get..." her voice came, brittle.." Him. Out. Now." (d)
Aman-un-Din: The Persian warrior sword was still gripped tightly in his hand, a safety incase the man broke free from the sudden onslaught of men. "Bind him. Keep him alive, for he has news and information that would prove important." The dark- haired foriegner stateded, staring down at the man as they jumped on him, wrestled him, and eventually bound him. Bess' orders were followed, heeded, and enforced without a second glance. Chocolate hued orbs watched stoicly as the man was toted away in a fit of curses and insults. Now he had doomed himself to treason, for Aman-ud-Din heard those words uttered, and they were for a man only with black in his heart. Shaking his head, the large blade was sheathed and he turned to see Aodhan was clinging to his mother's legs and skirts. His face was void of anger or disappointment. Placid, calm, and composed. Aman-ud-Din approached the trio, his eyes glancing between Bess and Eamonn before his eyes turned down to the boy. "Do not worry, you are safe now. He will be dealt with soon enough. You were a brave little warrior, and I am proud of you." His gaze lifted to Bess calmly, knowing the look of raw hatred. "Swift retribution will be had. There is still a purpose he has yet to fulfill before his end. Remember that. He will fight our battles, just you keep still."
Eamonn: Eamonn was not happy, to say the least. He watched with anger in his eyes at the man continued to hold and cling to Aodhan, before he finally let go, dropping the child without care and fear for his own life. Eamonn and Bess both wanted to slay him then and there. Even though Aodhan was not his son, he still cared for the child. The blonde warrior could feel and sense the anger in Bess, her blood was boiling hot and his hand stayed upon her shoulder, keeping his sister at bay, like two pit bulls wanting to rip into the man. Finally, Aodhan can dashing over to them and clung to her skirts tightly, standing between the two. Eamonn touched the boy's head with his other hand, letting the boy know that he was not safe from harm. Green eyes watched with detestment as the man was bound and carried off, leaving the Arab to return to them. Wise words from a wise man, but that did not lessen the anger that surged in theirveins for picking on a small child as a hostage. Cowardly deeds. "Come. Let is not linger here. He will be dealt with, and I will be all too glad when his end comes." He spat out coldly, his hand moving from Aodhan's head, but not from Beathag's shoulder.
Aislin: Aislin had calmed both children on her own as she stood there, no one else in the room save for them. She waited, waited until Eamonn, Aman-ud-Din or Bess would come back and tell her what was going on. Sorcha still fussed slightly,but Aislin kept bouncing her gently and nuzzling her cheek to her temple. Edme settled right back down and went to sleep even with the sniffles of Sorcha. Finally, she shifted the babe about and when it was still again, she tensed.One could enver be too careful, and Aislin prepared to grab Edme and run for the other door if it needed to happen. Only when she saw someone come through the door, would she relax, until then, she stood by the area where Edme was resting..waiting still.
Beathag: The irony was in that Eamonn was keeping Beathag at bay, and no doubt the both of them were struggling with allowing the guards to carry him off. Oh, oh, her eyes saw red the moment he went by her..and he knew it. For a second, the man who had been so bold as to try to take a child seemed to silently intake air at the feral look in the eyes of the Lady. The chieftains and their ilk were not ones to cross, but then again, neither were they. He realized that his death could have come in a multitude of ways, none of them pleasant, and now it was lingering. He would be pumped for his information and when his Lordship found out? No doubt the first one under the axe. Her hair was askew; head turned down to view her son as arms reached down, taking him quickly, protectively. When a guard asked where they should put him..she pressed Aodhan's face into her her shoulder so he did not have to watch any further. If Eamonn were not holding her, God forbid. " Get. him. Out, of here. Put him..in the prison..n..now...or Ah...will..kill..him." It was amazing she assembled that much of a sentence. Her arms went around her son, seeming to breathe only a little easier now that she had him..but the rage, was hard to quell (d)
Aman-un-Din: Aman-ud-Din knew that the man's death would come soon enough, and his soul would be forever consumed by the neverending fires of hell for his evil deeds and intentions. Aodhan was one of the first children that the men would use as leverage, and as terrible as it seemed, it would only be the first of many more horrible things to come. He could see the rage in Bess's eyes, and it concerned him deeply. He had no doubt in his mind that Beathag would have killed the man, but he did not want her to do so before information could be extracted from him. In her rage, Bess would not have been thinking so objectively, and that was a problem. Aman-ud-Din knew better than to touch her at this point for her son was in her arms and she was steaming. Aman-ud-Din raised a hand and gestured toward the door, agreeing with Eamonn's suggestion. They all needed a drink, food, and a chance to relax, especially Bess. Her anger would not help her boy calm down. "Bess. Now is not the time for vengeful thoughts. There is a time and a place for everything. Your son needs your warmth and comfort, not aggression."
Eamonn: Eamonn shooks his head. He hated to see such desperation in men. He had no honour, and from this display, Eamonn seriously doubted that rest of the clan leaders would have more more integrity than what was displayed today. The fact he TRIED to kidnap Aodhan made the horse lord all the more anxious to find these cold bastards and end their plans at the tip of a sword. Softly he growled, and turned toward the doors of the hall where they had all just come from. Of course, he was half nudging Bess along, while trying to check his own temper and need for vengeance and retribution. For his children and all others in Skye, he would hunt down ever last conspiritor. "I will personally see to the end of this vile conduct. Riders will be assembled to scout and hunt down these snakes and see that they be dealt with quickly." Opening the door again, he stepped inside first, waiting for Bess to follow and Aman-ud-Din to bring up the rear, before the door was closed and green eyes turned to his wife and daughter. His hand moved from Bess' shoulder and long legs carried him over to his wife and beloved daughter.
Aislin: Finally, they came through the doors and Aislin breathed a breath of relief as she saw none were harmed. What had happened? She knew as Eamonn pulled his hand from Bess' shoulder and moved towards her with that stalking like motion that something had been a foot. It did not help that his eyes were more green then normal, for that always meant he was angry. Moving to meet him half way, she held Sorcha to her left shoulder and used her free hand to rise and cup Eamonn's cheek. "What happened?" she asked gently before her ocean eyes drifted to the others. Sorcha was quiet now and moved her head to the side to see her father, only to see Aman and Bess.
Beathag:She had told Adam a secret to Scottish life was to know everything and act as if to suspect nothing. It was to be thorough, and to embrace the fevor at which a Scott loved their family, friends, and country. She worked each day to soothe his tempers and hold his broken, hurt mind together at the knowledge he would have to embrace the part of him that was Scottish and kill others of the same blood. Her anger, temper, and discontent had been quelled years ago when the years of blood soaked fields melted away with the times of torment. But they had come again, harder, swifter. Breaking through every moor, every defense until it gave what she never thought to have and nearly took away all she had ever come to want. Each day was a continual hand that pressed salt and glass into the torn open infliction. The push into the room made her feet move until she sank into her chair. Her eyes seemed toclosed, fingers moving through Aodhan's hair as he cried softly, " Mumma, I dun understand." Clarity came in those words, for who would explain it save her? (d)
Aman-un-Din: Aman-ud-Din understood the need to protect children. He had made it his life in Pern to protect and serve the Sultan. He watched the royal children with a careful eye, prepared to give his life so they might live another day. It was a sad and terrible thing to see adults act so, but it happened, unfortuantely, and now Aodhan was a witness to it all. Once the door was closed, brown eyes rested upon the small boy as he sat in his mother's lap now once she had been seated. Aman-ud-Din watched the boy sadly as he cried softly, not understanding the cruelty of men and why the targeted children. In honesty, there was no clean, simple answer. The lofty Arab with raven waves of hair neared his seat, and slowly sat down, giving the two their space and their time. Unless asked, he would say nothing and not interject.
Eamonn: Lips were pressed together tightly as he moved toward Aislin, a look of unhappiness upon his features. What had just transpired was a reason that he wanted to keep his child as safe as possible. Eamonn was protective, and that was the reason why, the event that had just come to pass outside the doors. Men were beasts. They did cowardly deeds, and now, he had no patience or tolerance for these traitors. Seeing what they could and would do in attempts to win, there would be no mercy. Either they would come with them or be killed. There was no time to let such dangerous men live. A strong arm wrapped around her waist as she moved close to him, while his other hand gently stroked the back of Sorcha's head. Aislin's hand cupped his cheek, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "The traitor clansman tried to take Aodhan. He was stopped by Aman-ud-Din, and will find himself interrogated and then punished for his attempts." He whispered bitterly, not wanting to upset his daughter.
Aislin: Aislin tried to keep the confusion from her face, but it was harder then she had known. Eyes went to Aodhan as he asked Bess that question and then to Aman-ud-Din before returning to her husband and waiting for him to answer her. She moved closer willingly as her husband pulled her in as he spoke on what happened. Aislin's eyes went right for Aodhan as she looked around her daughter's head and frowned. He looked ok, but one never knew. "Do ye need me to look him Bess? Was he hurt?" she asked and waited for her sister to answer. Sorcha, so innocent to the evils of the world, turned her head back and forth at her father's touch and his husky voice, wanting to see him, but glad to even hear him it seemed as she sighed and stopepd rubbing her lips and nose against her mother before her head turned and her right cheek rested on a slender shoulder.
Beathag: The anger was a poison that struck out like a viper's bite. Legs beneath the brown skirt were in tight contraction. Her lower back , arms, and hands laxed one ligament, muscle, and tendon at a time until her motions over Aodhan's clinging form were something akin to fluid. The anger and feeling of helplessness hurt. It would be a moment more before her voice came, slowly rising in volume from the constricted tightness of her throat. " Aye, Aislin. But nay yet..I..dun think, I can let 'im gae." Aodhan seemed to tense more at the very thought, and she kissed his forehead, " Nay, nay yet...but soon, we'll look ye o'er to see iffn ye've any large 'urts tha' Aunt Aislin can ..make better." He turned to look at Aislin, then up to Eamonn, over to Aman-un-Din. Did they know why it happened? He whispered into his mother's shoulder, " I was scared..Mumma..I dun want them to do tha' again. He would have made Edme cry.." The thought made her have to quell the surge of disgust all over again. They would have killed him if he made it to the room with the youngest children and her sister. Information or no. "Ah was scared tae, Aodhan.." (d)
Aman-un-Din: His tea was cold by now, and he stared at the amber liquid for a moment, his eyes staring at nothing in particular as he seeped into his own thoughts. Bess was furious, as she had every right to be, but her anger was not healthy at this point, especially since the boy was scared, confused, and wanting answers. Fingers curled around the mug for cold cinnamon tea. Indeed, they knew what happened, and what would have likely happened if the man had made it out of the castle. Things would have gone badly, and more than likely ended in the little man's death. Aman-ud-Din remembered the hateful words of the clansman, and that was something he would never forget. These people knew of the blood, and because Bess, Adam, and Aodhan were not of pure lineage, they were believed by those greed filled men to not belong. Aman-ud-Din sighed, and upon hearing the door, brown eyes turned to the stranger.
Eamonn: Eamonn sighed inwardly, as he turned his eyes to their child. She turned her head this way and that, so early a talent for one so young, but he was proud of her for that determination to see her world around her. As his wife turned to Bess and Aodhan, Eamonn leaned down and placed a light kiss upon his daughter's head. So young and innocent, having no idea what had happened. No one was going to make it in this room and do harm to his child or that of Bess' youngest. Eamonn would make sure of that, and having fought beside the woman before, the tall blonde knew that Beathag would not as well. Upon hearing the sound of a knock, Eamonn's attention snapped toward the door and a deep scowl crossed his features. Another strange man. Now, Eamonn was in no mood to tolerate unknown men. "Declare yourself and state your reasons for entering...speak quickly!" He demanded, facing the man and stepping in front of his wife and child protectively.
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Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Feb 20, 2008 9:20:11 GMT -6
It was late, the moon shined brightly in the dark blue-black sky, shadows formed on the ground as men and horse broke the horizon. Adam and his knights lingered in the shadows waiting, watching the mentioned building where the meeting was to be held.
The group of fifteen men, three women entered the building at varied moments in time, with Adam pointing out the ones to be arrested. As the meeting progressed, the candlelight flickered as people passed the space between the flame and the window. Heated discussions were evident in the way people waved their arms, the muffled sounds of arguments, and the cursing of a few as they departed the meeting early.
Adam was not fond of covert or clandestine operations, but now, the treasonous few have forced him to reduce his standards. Politically and diplomatically risky, he knew that open adversity to the Clan Leaders would be counterproductive to his purpose. He was not seeking power or fame, much less a lordship; but a place to live free from tyranny, and a place to raise his family so they too would be free.
The people of Turas Lan, and possibly of Skye, knew he was a man with a vision, and they too wished the same vision. But the yearning for freedom threatened the empowered; the cowardly men who sought an alliance with the very ones who wished to subjugate them… They called him Lord. They deemed him as a man who could protect them, and give them hope for the future. Now he was thrust in the middle of what could be a civil war.
Adam knew that he could not openly make the accusation of treason to the ones who sought alliances with England for title, deed, and profit, because of the violation of neutrality, the presence of treaties, laws, moral principles, and the aversion to negative attention. He could only solicit friends, and the friends of friends; to gain their support and to influence public opinion against those he would accuse. That was the reason he, and a few loyal friends were lingering in the cold.
Hand signals maneuvered men in the night; silence was mandatory as the tempo of the meeting caused many to leave. The ones departing were people who Adam knew were loyal Scots bound for freedom. The people remaining in the meeting were ones who would gain more by allying with the English King. Soon Adam would make his move.
The Clock Tower struck three as the four men and one woman prepared to leave. Adam knew, that one by one, they would douse the candles and move out the back door instead of the front. Those five people would soon find themselves, one by one, arrested and shuffled to the Blue Castle under the cover of darkness.
Adam lingered in the shadows across the street… in the echoes of darkness he could hear the scuffling of boots, the thud of a weapon contacting the physical… then silence; the only sound remaining was a metal door being locked. The sounds would repeat itself five times. Then the sound of horses’ hooves on the cobblestone as a wagon would roll from behind the buildings. Adam’s men would ride upon the jailor’s wagon as they departed, with only thumbs-up given by the driver. Adam smirked, then walked down the street toward the Castle that now bore his symbol, whistling an old Scottish tune, the sword rhythmically swinging at his side.
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 20, 2008 13:00:01 GMT -6
- Letters came and went from the hand of Duncan MacRae and Beathag Aberdeen speaking of tension between allies, and what needed to be done to release it. -
Lady Bess, I am sorra about last night in yer home and I had nae way of knowing children were about. But I will nae step a foot inside your home whilst this mess with England goes on.
I have told Lady Moira that all courtin' will subside until it's safe for her and I ta continue on. I could tell she was upset.But as I've recieved a note from her, she understands.
I obviously seem ta rub Lord Eamonn tha' wrong way and he does ta me as well. I wish nae other confrontation wit tha' man. I wished ta onla relay this tae ye by messenger.
I remain in friendship Lord Duncan MacRae "The Highland Rogue"
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 20, 2008 13:05:06 GMT -6
:: By the time the message reached the hands of the Lady, all manner of herself had been twisted in every way that could be conceieved. The Laird of Clan Menzies had been furious at being uncovered in the plots of treachery holding a grip on city of Turas Lan as it spread too, throughout the Island. In his desperation, he attempted to kidnap little Aodhan. The stand off in the halls was one of tension, raw anger, and terror. What was it for a mother to look at the face of her son and not be able to move to take him? What was it, to be a villian with a sword at your throat and innocence crying in your hands?
And in the end, what, if any, answer could explain it? There was nothing.
"M'lady," the messenger approached the child's chamber door, where his mother had not left his side since returning from the sea, "M'lady, tis from the Laird MacRae. He will be wanting a reply, your Grace."
She opened the letter, and upon reading it, sighed heavily. They could not afford to lose the support of any Clan that was brave enough to stand with them that came from the court of the fallen King. Yet, at the same time, they could not involve themselves in petty squabbling between them. Sending for quill, ink, and paper, she wrote the following to his Lairdship. :: Dear Lord MacRae,
It is a time of tension. We are all 'pon the edge of a knife, and if we stray but a little? We shall fall and lose more than e'er thought possible. The price of this mission we have undertaken may cost us our breath, our blood. Yestereve, I saw it strain and pull.
I saw it try to take from me my son. The Laird of Menzies is being held for his information, and no promise can be made to spare his life beyond that. If he was a dock hand, who else hides? Heaven forbid thought as this, but m'lord, it is my advise to you that you begin to look even to those closest to you. Make preperation for you kin. We will look upon a time where we need spill the blood of our own countrymen to save the blood of others.
Lord Duncan, I bid you understand that the tensions between you and my brother, Sir Eamonn, are as common as any two men that ever crossed the threshold of a strange place to meet as strangers. All of us are Scottish, and yet we are no better than foreigners on this Island. It has long been the homes of clansmen, hidden in mists, to do as they would. E'en upon your own lands, sir, you might have lived as a King untested if one but sought it. Yet now, here we sit, in a castle. Commoners, really, for saving our families from destruction and as many as we could spare to hold upon our ships. We were not born nobles nor men or women of great repute. We now sit, even above you sir, and I realize what ire this may draw from any clansmen that sat as Lord on high.
Like yourself, my brother now has interests:a wife, a small child. A family to defend. He has never liked strangers and we sit now on an island filled with unfamiliar faces. You shall become familiar to him in time, and you to him. So then what tensions were there except a man upholding what threatens to fall? He is no different than you, no different than any.
So it is with this being said you must relinquish thoughts of ill meaning gesture, for there were none, save unfamiliarity. In time we will become more familiar than any had ever thought possible..relying upon one another now.
You will come to my door, sir, for we must not give the enemy the luxury of thinking us cowards nor fools. Information need be shared and you are a Lord, a Cheiftain. I ask you and yours to come upon my door where where we are found and speak plain of these matters.
On the subject of Lady Buchanan, our Moira, while you may not partake of her company by your own election, let me say this: Do not let her see you faulter . A woman is won by the height of a deed and more so by the man who is able to do them.
In your next message, let me know when you shall ascend to the doors again. There is much to be spoken of, and we can not risk the letters being uncovered. Go in strength and in peace.
Lady Bess
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Post by Queen Beathag Aberdeen on Feb 20, 2008 13:10:23 GMT -6
Lady Bess. Your message arrived late this morning and I appreciate your heart felt answers. I have a list here which might be of help to you with the men aboard your ship. Ta night they plan ta explode her in tha' bay. They are not Scotsmen, they are the bloody English. The names and positions as follows:
Deckhand - Henry Merrill - Real name Sir Godfrey Neville - First Knight to the King of England ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dock Hand : Jergen Knapville : Real Name: Sir Richard of Albany - Earl of Avondale. Advisor to the King of England ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ronald Darknell - Laird of Clan MacDonald Real name: Lord Hugh MacDonald ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ These are but a few I have, I will have more by the end of the week Lady Bess. Sincerely, Duncan MacRae - Ronald Darknell, Hugh MacDonald. That name upon the page had sent shivers through the air that rippled now on the fringes of the harbor long after the sea had swallowed his ship in the Ring of Fire.-
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Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Feb 25, 2008 11:37:28 GMT -6
Interment
For the next four days, he avoided Bess and the family, attempting to prevent them from discovering what he was doing in the name of safety and freedom. He was enforcing the punishment of being a traitor; to which he knew was no return.
The first day, at sunrise, Adam visited the men in the dungeon of Blue Castle. Upon his orders, each man was separated and chained to a wall, stripped naked and left for cold. “Tis yer death that yu seek, Ah shall keep yu alive.” With that said to each man, he departed the Castle.
Each day after that, Adam would visit each man individually and spend time with him. After each visit, Adam would leave with more information on the traitors amongst them than he had before. The list of names grew and Adam’s mood grew darker. He was determined to make Skye a safer place for his family, despite what he had to accomplish.
The sixth day, Adam and ten loyal soldiers left Templar Hall and headed into the city. In the course of the day, Adam had arrested the Bishop, installing Father Patrick Dunovan as Head Priest; and went to a clandestine meeting in the cellar of a local winery. The ensuing arrest netted 6 more men and two women. An additional three men were killed as they attempted to fight their way to freedom.
Once again at the Blue Castle dungeon, all the men that he had “interrogated” and the new group of internees, were put in a cell together. Upon their reunion, he thanked the men for their information and closed the heavy door, leaving them to sort out their future.
The next day, he once again arrived at the dungeon at sunrise. At the cell, he found that two of the “interrogated” traitors had been strangled to death. The group was now killing their own. He had each new internee singled out to his, or her, own sector. Would he need to “interrogate” these?[/font][/size][/color]
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Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Mar 7, 2008 14:29:50 GMT -6
Tranquility - the times that should have been calm and troublefree, those times that after one has suffered so much; Adam had no tranquil moments, especially when he visited the dungeon and had to interrogate the traitors… He knew the men should have been treated fairly, and subjugated to no more than being chained or placed in a cell.
Oh yes, he had them chained, and in a cell, with just enough nourishment to kept them alive. Daily bathings consisted of cold water being thrown upon them…
After setting the scene, he placed them all in a cell together, and in the ensuing discussion, two of the traitors were choked to death by their own comrades for speaking to the current regime. The two who murdered were now his main focus. Information flowed freely from the ones who had been arrested earlier. The two last one arrested were tough nuts to crack, and Adam took to more dire measures.
Torture was now the repitoir of the day. He would stand by and watch, his gut wrenching at the sight of human life being wretched away. Would he be called a monster? Or a hero? Only history would show that. Amand has told him the story of Moses… and said... “Much responsibility you bear, Adam, for you are now Duke. The people look to you, not your father for guidance.… People judge by actions committed by you, now whether they run parallel to those of your father is up to you. People are not so quick to judge as you may think. As the people. Let them tell you how they deem your worth, and from there, look to improvment to keep their best interest at heart. Treason to the people is far worse, and such is committed if these men, who I assume are guilty, are allowed to filter back into society.”
As he stood by watching the proceedings, late one evening, he heard a familiar name. Moving closer, he asked… “Who is yer contact? What name did yu say?” With no answer, put spittal being tossed at him, he looks to the dungeonmaster and nods...
Within an hour of the dungeonmaster doing what he does best... The man under pain and duress answered screaming… “Ah sait Maubrey… Lord William… tis ‘is men whae made the offers…… pleaseee nae more… Ah’ll tell ye what ye want…” the scream of pain echoed…
From down the hall, a man yelled…. “Say nuttin ye bloody fool, don’t tell em… I’ll kill ye if’en ye do…”
Adam’s gut wretched at the name the man uttered. Could it be? Was it within that man’s means to be setting such stages? How much did he know about the Lord and Lady Aberdeen? “Why naew?” He uttered as he left the dungeon.
He had tortured men, and a woman, to find information that was related to the subversities against Skye. What he found was in fact that the King of England was at some fault, but much to the ado of his own Father… a ruthless man with a greed for power. He had not seen the man in so many years that, if not for the heartfelt hatred, would not have even recalled his face.
As Adam walked into the study late one night, he was handed a scroll. Sitting at the desk, he broke the seal of a bull, one that was familiar to him. Laying the missive aside, he took off his jacket, then unlaced his boots, and opened his shirt. Pouring the whiskey into an ornate glass, he took a large sip. He should have been in bed with his beloved Bess, but the seal made him curious. Sitting at the desk, he took a hefty drink of the whiskey and opened the missive.
To Duke Aberdeen, Lord of the Isles, Tis my greatest pleasure that I send best regards of your new position. I see from the reports that peace will finally come from that area. I, as Lord Advisor to the King of England, and Lord Marshal of the Scot Lowlands, pray that God grant you and your people serenity. Tis in the best interest of the King, and all of England and Scotland, that we ensure peace and prosperity comes to all concerned. I have advised the King on matters of the west, and I would like propose a settlement of all hostilities under the proprieties of peace, as we may somehow negotiate a peace between our two countries. Maybe the day shall come to pass that one day soon, I could visit your land, or maybe you could be persuaded to visit Glasgow.
Sincerely, Lord William J. Maubrey Lord Advisor King’s Marshall of the Scot Lowlands
Ire built inside him as he read. “Yea bae full of chyt…” he uttered softly. “Ah know what yae be doin’, and twill nae work…” Tossing the letter aside, he took up something more important… the drawing of the aged aquaduct and began considering the matters of Turas Lan and Skye.
Log Entry: Entered The Aberdeen Study [Members - 6] 3/5/2008 09:39 PM
Set In Her Way: Long it had been since the Lady of the Griffin Castle abandoned her boots in favor of simple slippers lined in warm fur to house the aching, stiff feet that wiggled 'round in the cushioned space. It was not unusual for the study to be illuminated with candles or ablaze with fire, both signs that the Duke and Dutchess were dedicated to their tasks.
Ignia Ferroque: A tall glass of whiskey, held in an ornate glass... left his lips as he read a worn document, the burn of the liquid making a smile cross his face... the plans were from a broken aquaduct that required repair... the boots were unlaced and loose, the sword now hung upon a hook and his white shirt was open to the chest.
Set In Her Way: The cellar held no end to the liquor delights available for consumption. The left hand plucked up a glass of brandy from the desk, twirling the liquid around before putting it to her lips, "Tis nay whiskey, but tis nay bad either ," was the mused consensus, "Ah still think the maid should'a brought whiskey..." Brandy went down slower, lubricated the gears in the mind only enough to make the woman mellow. Was that why they had given her brandy? Her head was in a constant state of lined brow, eyes narrowed.
Ignia Ferroque: Unlaced boots sat unpon a desk, a whiskey glass in his hand and a document in the other, he is not the stereotypical leader of a nation. He had heard of Moira's kidnapping, and the missing farm girl and this riled his anger of such criminal activity... soon he would have to make a decision that would change Turas Lan and Skye for ever.
Set In Her Way: "Evenin' usband," came the drawl of greeting as she peered over her paper, "Ah've ye heard wot 'as happened?" No doubt he had, because both had a notorious habit of putting their ear to the doors of all of Turas Lan to know what was necessary in order to do what was necessary. She, too, came to a decision, one that she needed to voice to him. It would not be suprising if they thought 'pon the same page. How deliciously subtle, how devilishly coy they sat with matters on their hand. A mind already decided, a hand waiting to move in command.
Beloved Souls: Leaving her daughter was not easy, despite how sure she was of such things and that this was for the best when she asked Eamonn to come and have a drink. Hours had been spent with the crying child and both parents were feeling the affects from it but hiding it well. Finally, Sorcha had gone to sleep out of pure exhaustion and under the watchful eye of Aida, Aislin convinced Eamonn to leave so they could think on what more to do and he could have a drink to relax his nerves. He needed it mroe now then ever, so did Aislin. After asking a few maids, it was not heard to find their brother and sister in the study. A light rap upon the door was given as both Eamonn and Aislin waited.
Ignia Ferroque: Hearing her voice, he dropped his feet immediately and choked on the whiskey. "Och, luv...Ah thought ya in bed..." He attempted to straighten his slovenish look, only to receive a smile from her. "Ah was just looking at the aquaduct plans... these are tae ald tae work... Ah think we best bring in an architect from Rome..." then the knock upoon the door... "Enter..."
Set In Her Way: "Adam Aberdeen, mah sleepin' habits are near as bad as yers. We dun gae tae bed unless it be taegether...n' since tis near dawn these days we might as well keep wot work we 'ave taegether n' keep company!" Through strands of undone hair she grinned, it was a different woman that was held in these four walls. She would not be ruled by them, oh no! Fresh air came off the sea in almost greedy gusts as if its soul want was to fill the room. "Aye, ah agree with ye, n' the distant roads from the city tae need such an eye m'thinks. Mayhaps we can beh bringin' in a Roman artist? Or one from Florence tae be restorin' n' addin tae the paintings in the cathedral..." Then came a knock on the door, a cant of head to see who it was.
ThelrishRover: Feet fell across the stone floor of the castle softly, moving with the lightness of a feather came the new Bardess of Skye. She was just beginning to be accomodated with her room and the castle itself; it was not the first time she had lived in one, though she wondered would it finally be the last? A deft hand rose, causing the long elegant sleeve of her sage green dress to ripple gently as she brushed her palm over the wall. Used to the rustic and warm scents of wood witin her Gypsy Vardo that was now unpacked and put away somewhere within the stables. The words of one particular Gypsy from her previous band ringing again and again within her mind. However as she turned the corner and reached the study where she knew the others to be, she dismissed the echoe of the womans velvet voice to a farther part of her mind, or was it her heart? Entering the study blue-green eyes took a sweep to see just whom was there, a smile pressed to her lips, "Good evenin'…"
Aeterno Ventus: To say it bluntly, Eamonn felt and looked like hell. Nights had gone by and he got no sleep for he worried about his daughter, who was crying for reasons he had yet to learn. He could not forsake his duties, but if he could take the time away and spend it with his daughter, he would. It took the persuasion of his wife to get the General to move from his daughter's side. Tension was in the air and gravitated around him. It had not been too long ago since he came home from duties, for he was still dressed in armour. Eamonn was quiet as he followed his wife to Bess' study, his face stoic and without emotion. Dark half-circles appeared under his hazel eyes as he ran a hand over his slightly messy hair due to the removal of his helmet and activities at work. When Adam's voice was heard, Eamonn opened the door for him and his wife, and followed her inside, still seemingly mute as he closed the door behind him.
Beloved Souls: Aislin wanted nothing more then to be in bed with her husband, with their child sleeping between them or on his side in peace, but for two days and nights now, that had not happened. To some, it was a minor stress, but to Aislin and Eamonn, this was new, their first child and the two were so use to a world of silence, that screams pierced through like daggers in the skin. She had not truly looked to Eamonn, knowing what his face was like and trying to hide her own tiredness, not needing guilt anymore on her mind then it was. Tonight, she was more then willing to talk about anything else besides their problems. In due time it would be dealt with. As Adam's voice found them past the wooden doors, Aislin waited for Eamonn to push it open and moved inside. "Evening. Ah hope we nay be interupting. A good drink and company sounded wonderful at this time of night." eyes drifted towards the red head that came in and a curt nod was given.
Defective Beauty: Jelenah found it hard to sleep tonight, which was nothing new for the golden blonde. She'd always had trouble sleeping peacefully for sometime now. The small framed women would be in a simple dress of dove grey with a semi white overcoat. Nothing fancy just something for an average day of wear. Her hair long and flowing, resting about her shoulders and cascading down her back. Her left hand still bound in banades and the other tucked behind her back as she walked the dimly lit halls. Her pale blue eyes gazing from painting to painting that decorated the narrow tall pathways. She was in her own little world for now, hoping to find some sense of peace during this night.
HighIandTartan59: - The tall Dragon Knight entered the study after being invited . He was concerned about his lady squire. He would need tae find the healer. Brynna was suffereing from those headaches she keeps getting. Stepping just inside of the door, deep dark eyes of sea green glanced around. He wouldna know tha' healer if he met her. Leaned against the wall just observing for the time being. He'd gotten a note from Duncan. Andrew wasna surprised about Hugh MacDonald. The man was maniac and no respect for anyone. Crossing his arms, he remained quiet as well.
Ignia Ferroque: A glance to the door, then to Bess... "Ah luv, tis true... we sleep when we kin and where we can taegether. Ah think it best we get the aquaduct and roads up tae standard then the frescoes later..." With a chuckle at the chipper voice of the bard, he spoke softly... "G'eve girl... settled in yet?" When Aislin and Eamoon came in, he to get some order to his upheavelled appearance. for such a late night, or early morning impromptu gathering... all he did was point to the whiskey cabinet. "Glasses are there my brother and sister..." said with a chuckle. "Yu too bard... drink hearty..."[/i] His attitude changed as he saw the man. Then he looks to Bess with a questioned look.[/color]
Set In Her Way: "Did nay ken the study was such a grand place tae be, Adam, mayhaps we should be holdin' next feast 'ere." she grinned before canting her head to all arriving, "Evenin, suppose our habits either be keepin ye all awake er ye are as much owls as Adam n' I beh. Come, we be at nay shortage o' brew." If such happened, they would all be doomed for sure! No Celt could take any news, good or bad, without whiskey present. It was sacriligious whether one was pagan or Christian. By now, the court's blood should be comprised of temper, intrigue, love, and whiskey. It would be Eamonn's face and Aislin's demeanor that made her sigh soft. A look that said all - concern and worry. Now they were becoming too much like Adam and herself! "Jelenah, ye tae, n' ye, Sir Knight? Tis as fair a time as any..." When all were inside the doors would be shut. What she'd say to Adam could be said before them, and vice versa. "Ah've made some peace with a few things..." she remarked, letting her hands slid behind her back , "N' fact just beh fact..there are tae many folk wot hide Tial MacDonald, traitors n' folks like 'im. Ah've rooted out those who beh hidin 'im. Wot I asked o' ye before...." Her head shook from side to side, "Stands nay more. There beh guard just awaitin' the final order from us both, Adam. If he runs, kill 'em. If they take him alive..he's still dyin." She rubbed at her temple softly, "All o' the homes are set tae be raided...this 'as gone on tae long. Some o' em should be set tae public example. There be nay shortage o' nooses, axes, or archers tha's fer certain."
ThelrishRover: Claiming a seat in the study near Bess, her eyes returned again to the others who entered now. She returned the polite acknowledgement to the woman along with a smile, then she spotted Jelenah. For a moment, her eyes narrowed on her. Doubting herself if that indeed was her old friend of Slovakian origin, but indeed it was! A real smile now spread over her lips and ignited her eyes. "Jelenah! Is that really ye?" Would she remember the red head?
Aeterno Ventus: Eamonn did not even want to be here right now. He wanted to be next to his daughter, for his mind was frantic in worry about her. Never before had he been so close to child, and before he had been able to make Sorcha cease to cry. Now, he could not, and it made him angry at himself because of that. He was not in a loquacious mood today, and Bess' prattle of the rapist fell on deaf ears. To the cabinet he went and pulled out a bottle of whiskey for himself, not bothering to get a glass, he would not need it. Whatever his wife wanted, however, he handed to her and found himsels a seat. The bottle of whiskey was opened and he downed a long drink of it, slumping over in the chair, hazel eyes staring at the floor without care of the others present. The strong liquor stung, but it felt so good. Silently, the rim of the bottle was pressed to firm lips again and another long drink was swallowed.
Beloved Souls: Aislin was silent as she moved deeper into the room, hands at her side, in no way reaching for her husband for reasons that were in her own head. At the sound of another name, Aislin turned breifly to see the blond woman roaming the hallways only to be lured inside. She looked fimilar, but Aislin could not place her and her mind was a long bit away. Looking to Bess, she noticed the fingers moving up to rub her temples and shifting to reach into the pocket of her vest, she remembered another reason why she wished to see her sister. She had noticed this many times before, and watched were Bess touched everytime she moved fingers to her head to see where the pain was coming from. Eamonn was given a glance and the others were as well before she moved towards Bess and pulled out a small vile, no longer or wider then her own fingers, with a cork tip upon it to keep the light green liquid inside. "This be for ye sister, place it on yer temples and the back of your neck as ye would fragrence oils. Three times a day or as needed..se if this helps." she spoke low, letting her fingers brush Bess' own as she moved her hand down.
Defective Beauty: Jelenah would slip in as she had neared the room and heard voices. She was never one to meddle in others affairs, just thought that perhaps listening to others talk about what came to mind would take away the troubles on her own. She had thought she suceeded in slipping in unoticed, for none had spoken to her right away and she simply stood in the corner, listening and watching. That was until Bess of course offered her to sit and drink with them as well as with the others in the room. A glance to the other side as she heard her name a second time and blonde brows would furrow at the woman who spoke it. She would smile and nod slightly. "Hello Faerin, it is I.." She replied back in that heavily accented Ukranian voice.
HighIandTartan59: - A messenger had come ta deliver a message ta himself from Gavin- "Thank ye" He read it. Folding the message up and placing it in his shirt pocket, then he spoke- “Please excuse me Lady Beathag and Lord Adam. I've been summond ta Duncan's home.Blessed Be tae ye all here." - With that said, he left quietly -
Ignia Ferroque: Adam stands, his shirt still open to the chest, setting the aged document and his empty glass down. "Bess, ah agree wit yae... tis gone on far tae long... Ah'll order the traitors arrested... and put in Blue Castle dungeon..." Looks to Eamonn... "Brother yae shall ensure the arrests are completed... they either come alive, or they come dead, ah care naet..." looks to Aislin... "Sister, make sure the Infirmary is ready to accept our wonded... not the traitors, only ours..." Pacing now, he looks to Bess... "Can ah depend 'pon the MacGregors? what of the MacRae's? 'r the MacLeods? Whilst they be sidin' wit us?" One hand pops the other at the small of his back... "This chyt ends now. Bess, luv, get the carpenter to make a gallows... and a heading block... for the most serious of crimes... Treason, rape, and murder, tried by me, shall be beheaded... lesser crimes against humanity shall hang by the neck until dead..." Glancing agin to Bess... “Get a scribe tae write it up... ah'll sign it... "
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Post by King Adam Aberdeen I on Mar 7, 2008 14:30:41 GMT -6
Set In Her Way: "Goodnight, Sir," she watched the Knight slip away into the halls before listening to Adam go on as if he had been in her mind the whole of the time, "Good, we be 'pon the same page, whilst a scribe may dae the rest fer ye, n' Faeren, in the future as the herald n' a woman o' writ, ye may be called 'pon tae dae this in the absence o' a scribe. Tis a task Ah will nay give tae Eirian, bein' she is with bairin, tis nay fittin'." A woman absorbed her world and gave it to the child, and there was no doubt in her mind it remained with the offspring all their lives. "Here be the documents ye need, Adam, in English and in Scotts-Gaul," she turned to her desk and lifted up a stack of dried parchment writ in her hand, "There ye gae, just awaits ye signature next tae mine." The little green vial of fluid was taken into fingertips, examined, a grin passed over to Aislin. Such an observant woman, she had a belief the remedy would begin to cure the ailment that afflicted her. "Call it plannin' ahead. " Remedy was poised inside of her bodice for safe keeping, though she'd be using it sooner rather than later. Her eyes were straining from the countless hours.
ThelrishRover: Delicate and slender fingers of an artist knitted together in her lap, eyes focusing on the Eastern European woman. "Well I have nae seen y'since Orknae. How have ye been doin'?" She asked in the sweet toned and lyrical Irish accent. Eyes soon shifting over to Bess when she mentioned her name, glancing to Adam and nodding. "Aye, anytime I am at yer disposal." She smiled, one of the things she was here to do now. Which she did not mind, the knew a handful of languages which included all dialects of Gaelic and could write all of them as well.
Aeterno Ventus: Now was not a time to be dealing the apprehensive General with ultimatums. He had not the patience or mind for it at this point, for his thoughts were no longer on the bickerings of trifle tribal warfare. He did not care at this present moment. The only thing that lingered on his mind since he dismounted from the saddle was his daughter, who was presently resting in her crib. Upon the voice of Adam, hazel eyes lifted as he tensed, pausing in the moment of quenching his thrist. His eyes narrowed somewhat. "Either you want them alive or dead. There is no favouritisms, Adam. If you want prisioners, say such. If not, then let my sword be their judgement. Be decisive, not tentative." He replied bluntly, dryly. As he stared at his brother-in-law, he took another quick swig of the alcohol before tearing his eyes away from the Duke and casting them away to stare at the floor to retreat into his own mind.
Beloved Souls: Oceanic eyes went to her brother and she gave a firm nod of her head. It would be done, but how do they seperate the traitors from those who are not? How does one tell? "It will be done Adam...but the problem lays in telling who be friend or nay. Ah'll be going to the infirmary on the morrow. Rules will be set for those that work under there and ah will make them strict for now. Any wound looks supesious… we shall stop them from entering. Can ye have yer men try and remember any wounds they may inflict upon traitors who may escape so we know what we be looking for too perhaps? Ah nay know all about war, but there need to be a easier way to keep records." Eamonn's comment had her eyes move to him for a moment before looking back to Adam.
Ignia Ferroque: Walking to her desk, he took the document and read it... with an evil smirk, he thought that the woman was in his head... despite not speaking of such matters in marriage sanctuaries, they seemed to know what each other desired for Skye. Melting hot wax in the small container, then pouring a bit upon the document, he made a fist and put the ring in the hot wax. As it cooled, the emblem of the gryphon became more prevalent.
Taking a clean quill from the desk, he then stuck the tip of his finger to draw blood. Dipping the quill into his own blood, he signed his name...Lord Adam Aberdeen, Lord of the Isles...looking to Bess as he wipes away the blood from his finger. "Tis dun... I have sealed my fate in blood. Bess, yae dun have tae sign it..."
Then he walks to Faeran, his callous hand softly upon her face, his sea-green eyes gaze upon her red hair then her face. "Are yae sure yae kin handle such things dat mae come from this office? If ye say aye, then be strong, maintain clarity about it... and ye have mae trust."
Then he looks around the room... "What ah have decided taenight may start a civil war... but this be faer our future..." Looking to Eamonn... “Ah want them alive...tae stand punishment in public... then ah leave it tae yae tae get them to the dungeon..." Nodding to Aislin at her request... "Bess will have the names o'most of them... the word shall be spread. Know this, aye luv ye all... but Skye will be our family's family's home, nay just ours... we own this land by our blood and sword..." Words so hard... life even harder... he looks to Bess and smiles.
Once again, the pressure had caused a headache, or so he claimed. The thought of his Father wanting Skye made him ill… He knew how evil the man could be… would he have to be the same to keep this man out… Lord Maubrey, was his son’s nemesis… Making a quick exit, the tears forming in his eyes, "may the Gods grant us peace..." he utters as he leaves.
Set In Her Way: Beathag was focused on every action of Adam's from beginning to end - was it wrong, to say that her breath was stolen in admiration as the morbid porten of his blood made omen on the page? As with a quick stroke he used the literal blood that moved his life to end that of another? The wicked grin arrested the beat of the heart, matched by a small one through veiling strains of golden grain exposing what seemed a glow of emerald eye. A flicker, a flash of lightning struck. On a board of chess, the pieces positioned were moving into a checkmate in favor of the Griffon Court. She paid him homage with a bow that sunk low. He was her husband but in this? He was her Duke, her Lord, and may his will be done. Where none could see would be talk of the heart's cry for peace, the tears shed in one another's arms. "We make our final stand, this Isle shall beh our final home." A few quick steps meant she could watch him walk away, fading into the lowlights until the shadow's consumed him. "Faeren, Ah'd like ye tae accompany meh taemorrow 'pon the ride out, tae witness first hand these things fer the recordin'. Ye've a stealed armor about ye, we all dae." Every position in the court was held by a person more than capable of rising to the occasion.
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