Blood Conspiracy [Closed for Now]

[Sir Lucius MacLeod]

Blood Conspiracy
For in this wretched world, never underestimate the power of an enemy or potential treachery of a friend.
Everything in this world has a price and bidding, and caters to men of prosperity and supremacy.

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I. INTRODUCTION
After the war with the English had been settled and were on the retreat, the nobles and knights that had affiliation with Britain were forever stripped of their largest benefactor, for unbeknownst to their peers upon the Isle of Skye their power and status had been financed by Britannia. Now, with Skye forging its individualism, the nobles found themselves weakened and what grip they had in the sway of a nation had now been loosened severely. With their financier gone, those they had made secret trading agreements would soon become hostile and the future would not bode well from the nobles. Their only hope of survival and maintenance of stature would be to fuse themselves with the powerful clans of Skye permanently. There, they could rebuild and replenish what they had lost, but more importantly retain their positions in not only Skye, but the world.



II. ACT I: Birth of a Conspiracy
And so it was the intention of Sir Roland to protect his interests and ensure his wealthy by winning the hand of the Lady Siobhan MacLeod, daughter of the MacLeod Clan Chieftain and thus setting foot for the next in line in the event of her father’s death, which he had assurance would come sooner than expected. So, while the war raged on in the lands of Skye, Sir Roland did well to place the mask of favour on and gain the trust of an unsuspecting Chieftain and with such have hopes of winning the fair Lady’s heart either by her own accord or her father’s bidding. Sir Roland did all he could to woo her, pleasant speeches, lustful eyes, glorious gifts and favours, but none seemed to turn the head of Siobhan. But Sir Roland refused to take no as answer. Such was his reason in seeking out the aid of Roisin, a handmaiden to the Lady Siobhan. Who better than to know the Lady than her handmaidens? For exchange of information concerning Siobhan, Roisin called upon the Lord Roland to love her, and in turn, she truly fell in love with the man that would never love her in return. She tried to sway his attention from the lovely Siobhan to her, to make Sir Roland fall in love with her, but each time she confessed her love and affections he refused her, scorned her, and was only interested in devising ways to seduce Siobhan for his own plans. Jealous and bitter now, Roisin’s heart turned black and out of spite and envy, she would help Roland in his scheme, for the man never confessed to loving Siobhan, and while she would never be his wife, mistress was a title she would willingly take for it meant loving him physically at least.

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War seemed to be a time for many things, but a time to woo was not something Siobhan would ever think someone could ponder. As she walked down the hallways of her home, she needed no guards at her sides, no men to follow and look after her, for here she had ladies in waiting to trail behind her. How little Siobhan still knew of the world and the people in it. Passing from the doors that lead to the gardens, she watched as the cold season had taken away almost all the wonderful blooms of the garden, leaving basic colors of greens and gold. This would be the fifth time she noticed a male also in the garden area. Sir Roland. He made it no secret of his wish to court Siobhan and so far, she had avoided his woos, hoping he would deem her unfit. He was a handsome male, born into the clan with all the skills, knowledge and looks of those here. He was, however, overconfident and with Siobhan being just as haughty, they never truly mashed well together. Oil and water, as some might say.

Already he had tried to influence her with his wealth, family titles and earnings, talk of his conquests and plans for the future, but her thoughts of him were the same as those she had a year ago. True, a year ago she had flirted with him shamelessly, perhaps encouraging and taunting him so that he worked harder to win her affection, but Siobhan knew that they were never destined to be a couple, for they would constantly try to dominate each other and she sensed he would falter or become power hungry…a fear she held for herself as well. Siobhan's father had not accepted any suitor and she hoped that would remain true until another could prove him worthy. This day, the gift of rare flowers was bestowed on Siobhan as she moved to him in greeting. The gifts had only started to come over the past three months, so this was yet another to add to her growing collection. They were beautiful and got the respect they deserved, but as always, Roland opened his mouth and instead of giving sweet compliments, he gloated on his achievements. Was Siobhan truly so cold seeming that he thought that would woo her? She had told him once before, it was not about what he achieved, but who he wished to be. He had taken it wrong, or not cared in the least, so once more, she declined his offer for dinner, stating he would have to ask her father for such a thing and even then, more would need to be done save flowers and gloating. Another growing thing Siobhan noticed was Roland's displeasure and the anger he tried to hide as he stiffly walked away. Before, she had laughed and giggled with her handmaids, but now, after her growing experiences, it made her stare after him, her face sad that she had to be so blunt to get a point across and in turn, it seemed to hurt his feelings or made him angry.


ii. SCENE II: Roisin Pledges Her Aid to Lord Roland
The Lord Roland had come and gone from the castle, it was no strange sight to see. But, each time he passed her by, Roisin felt her delicate heart skip a beat, that strange and slightly uncomfortable feeling that you could never suppress. Not once, not twice, not even three times her heart fluttered and an indescribable emotion washed over her. Always the Lord Roland doted on the Lady Siobhan, who once laughed and teased him, flaunting her youthful beauty, but now seemed to turn down and reject all of his offerings. Roisin never understood how a strong, noble, and attractive knight could ever be turned down. Not once did the man look her way, though it was expected given that she was a simple handmaiden. Still, one could hope and dream, could they not? Roisin found herself dreaming of him often, wishing in vain that he would cease to chase Siobhan and look to her, pass a kind eye to her. There had been plenty tales where the maid became the affection of a knight, especially if they were pleasant looking, and boastful vanity had Roisin believing that her beauty was far more radiant than that of the Lady Siobhan.

However, Lord Roland paid the woman no mind or heed for his sights were upon the daughter of the MacLeod Chieftain: Siobhan MacLeod. Had you ever seen a rarer beauty? Eyes like water and sky suddenly thrust and mixed together, her hair as dark and silken as raven’s wings; her beauty could not be glanced aside. But it was not for simple beauty that drew Roland toward Siobhan, it was the power she had, the potential of what he would and could become if he could so win her heart and affection, though he had no real use for love and affection. So hard he tried to woo the woman with gifts, flowers, poetry written by one of his servants, but nothing seemed to catch the girl’s eye! Frustrated, the Lord Roland paced with heavy thoughts on his mind, desperately seeking an answer for a way to seduce Siobhan. Nothing, not a thought or plan came to his mind.

Irritation vanished for a moment, however, as the thought and memory of a servant came into his mind. A handmaiden. They were close to Siobhan, were they not? Who better to know the Lady’s taste than the woman that served her every hour of the day? A sinister smile, crooked and wicked as ever, curved the corners of his lips; his hope for seducing Siobhan had been renewed. Now, all that he had to do was fine this maid and do what it took to gain information concerning Siobhan.

In the hall, the next day, he found the maid Roisin carrying sheets to Siobhan room. Roland followed, like a hound upon the tail of a fox, and as he entered the room and saw Siobhan nowhere to be found, he did inquire just where the Lady had gone. Out, came Roisin’s reply as she changed the linens on the bed, avoiding the Lord’s eyes lest her heart burst silently. Lord Roland pulled out his bag of charms, but unbeknownst to him the maid Roisin had secretly wanted it. However, that did not make Roisin gullible in the least. What it the Lord sought was, she asked boldly, even surprising Roland with her inquisition. He smiled, though, and replied that if anyone could help him win the affection of Siobhan it was her. But why would she want to help Siobhan take away her dreams and ideal man? The reward would be well worth her interest for he could make anything possible, and the moment that his hand touched her arm, Roisin turned to paste. A reward…what greater reward was there than to have Lord Roland herself? Even if for a time, it was better to have and have lost than to not have at all, right? With that skewed line of thought, Roisin agreed to help Roland if he promised to share a bed in the time being. Of course, and as predicted, Lord Roland accepted the term without hesitation for Roisin was neither hideous nor grotesque. Fickle, young still, and under his control now, that was Roisin to him and nothing more.


iii. SCENE III: Roland and Roisin
In the days that followed, while the men were away and off to war with the English, Lord Roland took to the company of his newly appointed spy: Roisin. Much time they had spent together, under the covers and tangled in limbs, but that was not without a price. Often times he asked of Siobhan’s likes, her favours, what pleased her, and lured into it Roisin answered, giving detailed, almost personal information that concerned the Lady Siobhan. Lewd and certainly indecent secrets passed between their lips, making Roland grin and silently mark down those hints. Roisin mentioned Siobhan was particularly fond of Snowdrops recently, having suddenly come into the possession of one, but she thought nothing more of it save that it was a flower that Siobhan had a fancy for. Never did she discern the feelings and reasons attached to such a little flower for that was a secret Siobhan guarded well, and with good reason. Snowdrops, the Lord Roland thought, and thanked Roisin for that bit of information. Every night the Lord Roland came to Roisin’s chambers, loving her falsely but making her dreams reality. Their bed was shared often and frequent, but because of that Roisin found herself falling deeper and deeper in love with the Lord. Why could he not see that she was just as beautiful if not more? The girl did not even love her; he was trying to win the heart of a woman that she did not even love. Roland was a Lord; he could have anything he ever wanted, no matter what their station might be. There had to be a bigger goal in mind. But, true to his word, Lord Roland shared Roisin’s bed each time she gave him a bit of information, personal, concerning Siobhan.


iv. SCENE IV: A Woman Scorned
As the days went on with their silent affair, Roisin could not stop herself from falling love with the older Lord Roland. He had wealth, power, and dignity that only she could see in him. Many times she tried hard to convince herself that such a romance could never be, but that did not stop her from wishing and hoping. In the tales of romance, the impossible was deemed possible with a bit of hope and prayer. Unfortunately for her, this was not such a fiction. Day by day, Roisin fell more in love with Roland, cherishing the moments they spent in bed, the times they had in secrecy together. Would she have another chance? More than likely not, she told herself. Little did she know how right her inner thoughts were. The wildest thought entered her mind, a plan that perhaps she could make Roland forget about Siobhan and learn to love her instead, for she had more than Siobhan had, or at least in her opinion. Lord Roland failed to see that, his marriage to Siobhan was more than love, not that there was love to begin with. Roisin was no more than a mere pawn in his scheme.

One night, while the two shared their bed, Roisin risked everything by confessing to Sir Roland that she was in love with him, wanted to love him forever and be with him. What she conceived in her mind was a sharp contrast to what happened. Lord Roland sneered at her, and flatly told her that she meant nothing to him, simply a woman who was helping him win the affection of Siobhan, for that was his intended bride, not her servant. Those words were like daggers and pierced the heart of Roisin. Roisin became angry, jealous, and for payment of her broken heart, she would make sure that Siobhan suffered. Lord Roland made the mistake of telling Roisin that he did not love Siobhan either, but wanted to be the chieftain in the event of her father’s death. To that, Roisin smirked. Well, if she could not have his love, Siobhan would not either. Besides, there was always the thought of a mistress, was there not? But still, Roisin could never have Roland, never wed him, and that harsh reality of being unwanted and undesired in that sense made Roisin bitter, and her goals turn to take revenge on Siobhan, the spoiled princess who had everything she ever wanted…even the man she loved striving for her. It would not be a happily ever after…Roisin would be sure of it.


v. SCENE V: Roisin's Revenge
And so it came to Roisin’s hands that the fate of happiness would be decided. Bitter and hating the fact that she could never have Roland to herself and only in the eyes of privacy, Roisin made the decision to make Siobhan’s marriage to Roland—which the man was so pressing to have—if it should happen, a nightmare. Why should the young princess have everything and she not? Simply because she was the daughter of the MacLeod’s Chieftain? That was not fair, nor would Roisin accept it. Siobhan did not love Roland like she did…she should not have him. However, Roland was set upon marrying Siobhan because of the places that he could go if he should wed the chieftain’s daughter. Still, blinded by her own bitter scorn, Roisin watched Siobhan and took mental note of her behaviors, her likes, dislikes, and almost everything personal about the woman. If Roisin could not have happiness because of social standing, neither would Siobhan, and she would see to that. Every little detail and fact was then related to Roland, discussing the most private affairs of the chieftain’s daughter from the favoured flower to the time of fertility and physical attributes. Something bit at her, perhaps the lingering conscience in her that begged her not to be so cruel and cold to dash another’s dreams, to think more about the character of Roland, but she would not hear it. No, she loved Roland, he was not such a cold man, but knew how to get where he needed to in life, which was never a saintly road. Siobhan was born to privilege and happiness for her was never an absolute or guarantee. She would see to it personally, now. [/ul][/blockquote][/font]

[Sir Lucius MacLeod]

III. ACT II: The Inerlude
With the threat of the English dissipated in Skye, the Squire Lucius, due to extraordinary efforts during the War for Freedom, became a knight of Skye, and not just a knight, but a Knight of the Order. A promise fulfilled, Lucius took his leave while the threat of war was over, and journeyed to MacLeod’s Table to carry out an even greater vow: to return a knight worthy of a Chieftain’s daughter and marry her. Lucius returned to the castle of the MacLeods, no longer a squire, but a knight, and a knight who had every right and interest in marrying Siobhan. Lord Roland loathed and cursed at the new competition, watching and silently scheming at plots to get rid of this new knight. However, soon Lord Roland would have his plot decided for him. Early morning, Roisin saw Sir Lucius leaving the chambers of Siobhan, and with that pertinent information, she reported it eagerly to Lord Roland in hopes that he would turn his eyes to her and forget Siobhan. Furious, Lord Roland drank his displeasure and sought to get rid of Sir Lucius. That night, a feast had been prepared to celebrate the victory of Skye and to honour the bravery of the MacLeods. It was here, that Sir Roland, intoxicated, accused Sir Lucius of rape and lewd conduct toward Siobhan. Angered and insulted, Sir Lucius demanded that such words be retracted, and it was here that a duel betwixt Sir Roland and Sir Lucius was forged; a duel to death or until the other party yield to terms.

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The Lord Adam Aberdeen promenaded ceremoniously to the front of the hall and with a slow turn, he faced those gathered within. ``People of Skye, Welcome! People o' Scotland, Ireland, Wales, brothers in a new lay of land, welcome. Tae those who have come o' the continent tae see us, and those from lands fallen and fledglin', welcome. We stand 'ere taenight when we out nay have stood at all! How many thought we'd be laid low now, the flicker of a candle gone, but one passing dream? Ah say those who thought it know nay the spirit of our people! With great courage, bravery, faith, and honor did many gae forth tae battle, or dae other things of extraordinary caliber deservin' o' merit. This is why we gather, tae recall those times, tae give thanks and ne'er forget! Tha' is wot I charge ye with tonight. Ne'er forgot how ye came to this night. Ne'er forget...yourselves. There in would be our weakness. Let us begin!`` The Lord announced, before motioning two pages forward, bearing two swords, one of them being Adams’ that had gone with him to many adventures. The other was the Lady Beathag's, whose adventures had ended. It came out now for such times as this, for ceremony, for ritual, for deeds of peace and not violence.

Once the swords were presented, the golden-haired Lady spoke. ``Will those tae be knighted come forth, receive yer due! The Griffin recalls you Squire Lucius Come forward, so it please you.``

When the Lord and Lady appeared, Lucius bowed his head courteously, and once the Lord Adam spoke first, Lucius paid great attention. The Gaelic Nations. He tried to fight the smile from taking shape on his lips as his day finally came, the day his oath would be fulfilled. He swallowed hard; his heart skipped precious beats in his chest as his name was called. It was happening, what he had dreamed of. Years of his life had been devoted to the wistful thought of becoming a knight just as the stories and tales depicted. But since his coming to the Isle of Skye, that dream became more and more prominent. Sir Liam was the first knight to have faith in his ability to achieve such a feat, and after his untimely end, the Lord Kendrew became willing to place stock in him after the rescue on the shores. Lucius would never forget those milestone moments, ever. He came a long way and had endured much, Lucius could contest to that. He had seen service in war, sustained a campaign among the worse, and even survived being captured by enemy forces. Finally, he was receiving what he longed for; knighthood. Pressing lips together and clearing his throat silently, the once squire found some measure of will to compose himself as he stepped out and approached the Lord and Lady, genuflecting as he bowed his head with every bit of reverence.

Light eyes turned to the squire before her, and though her face held regality, there was a smile in the depths of her eyes. ``Ye have given and fulfilled oath for two men, Squire. Ye have served in battles, held no regard for your life as you have given life to others in true selflessness. Ye went forward, into the darkness below ground, above, and o' the mind. Come, good Squire, kneel afore me, receive yer due.``

That lump did not go away as his dark eyes turned upward to the Lady Beathag. It remained, unmoving it seemed, and all the more mentally evident. Swallowing hard, Lucius felt his heart stop in his chest and for some strange reasons moisture gloss his eyes over. He did it...what he swore to, what he longed for. He swore to become a knight and prove his worth to the world, and here he was, standing before the Lady herself and about to be knighted for his honourable deeds. Doing as the Lady bid, Lucius kept his head bowed respectfully and lowered his tall frame to his knees before her. Both hands clasped together in front of him, the dark strands of hair that had grown over the months he had been away fell over his shoulders and partly acted as a curtain to the sides of his bearded face. His heart continued to race wildly in the cavity of his chest, pulsating to some strange beat in a hastened pace.

The sword was gripped in the longer, slender hand at her side, the Lady Beathag nodded and once again her voice echoed in the hall. ``Dae ye swear yer fealty, honor, valor, life and service tae the Griffin and all that it upholds? To be of service upon the field of battle, in the brotherhood of men, your countrymen and kinsmen? To defend the defenseless, protect the weak, give unto the ways of chivalry? Abide you by these vows until lord release you or death take you?``

Lucius’ lips parted and he soon replied. ``I swear my fealty, honour, valour, life, and servitude to the Griffin and all upheld...To be of service upon the field of battle, in the brotherhood of men, my countrymen and kinsmen...to defend the defenseless, protect the weak, and give upon the ways of chivalry. To this I shall abide until my Lord release me, or death take me.``

With that being said, she crossed her sword over his shoulders; left and then right. ``By the power vested in me, I dub thee Sir Lucius, son of Bolverk. Knight of the Griffin!``
Lucius was then presented with golden spurs, and more, upon this occasion. ``Let it also be known tha' this young man has set path for all squire to follow, and all men, young and old! He has rescued men from the sea, from below the earth, upon the earth, and one might even say the soul. He, among many o'ers, held on till the break o' mornin tae keep the castle. For this, he shall have the Griffin Medal, for valor. It has been 'pon election tha' the chosen are given prestigious honors. Many became knights, but not all knights gae untae the order, but you, Lucius? Rise and take you the white feathers.``

And the leader of the order himself, Lord Kendrew, came forward to pin the said honours upon his breast with great, great pride.

Meanwhile, Bolverk was standing in the back of the crowd, watching as his son stepping forward and be knighted. This was a moment of true pride for a father, a moment any father could dream to witness. Lucius had gained great respect, not only from others, but the silent man that blended with the crowd.

Dark eyes stared at the steps, his hair falling in his face due to the bowing of his head, and closed his eyes when the tip of the blade touched one shoulder and then the other. Sir Lucius...Lucius smirked a bit, and thanked God his hair concealed it. Lucius slowly lifted his head and truly listened to the Lady's words, every one of them filling his heart with more and more pride. Lucius smiled softly, trying not to blink for silent fear warm tears of joy would slide down. By her command, Lucius rose to his full height once more and now standing tall and proud, he lifted his chin a bit. Brown eyes shifted to Kendrew and lifted his head proudly as his knight and master took the task to pin the medal upon his chest. His gaze did not falter or leave the face and features of his knight and master as the man pinned the spurs upon his chest and the other medals that he had earned throughout the war that took Skye. With lips pressing together once more, Lucius bowed respectfully to Kendrew, to the man he owed his happiness and dreams to. When the knight rose, brown eyes glanced over his shoulder and to his father, who was in the crowd, watching him, and then to the woman that he made a promise to.[/ul][/blockquote][/font]