Peace Be Upon Them{Open}

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

Peace Be Upon Them
Begin: December 1333
Story is: Open to All, ask if any questions
Premise: Visiting the settlement of Drynoch, the principle among the townships of Campbell on the island, it can be seen how the humble town of forty sheperds has grown in to more. Reflecting on that growth and discussing it among his cohorts, there is a chance to see individuals among the growth become distinct and omens for the future in the encouragement of the sept's rising power.


"Look."


The Chieftain had a way of capturing someone's attention when he wanted it. He said a word in the briefest context. One or two, nothing more. He looked until the person would look at him. It was as if his eyes were two forces with their own an opposite pole, with no other choice but to be diverted to what he was trying to draw their interest in. So the man did as he was bid and looked out at the stock of animals in the barn just ahead of them. Each man rested his weight on a tall walking stick, having walked the miles between the towns on a day when the weather allowed it. Kendrew gave a rise of his head until the point of his nose became the piece of direction,"The ewes there, healthy. Purchased in the last auction?" The Reeve cracked his knuckles over the hob-knob of his stick before giving a reply, "Aye, m'laird. A good price for them wot be used for the breedin' We were able tae obtain enough tae make fer meat in the winter, alongside the mutton stock. More than enough remains fer Spring among the young ram. They will make good lamb, good wool m'laird." Animal husbandry was a paltry thing to discuss in the country. There was not a home worth its foundation stone without some sort of creature be it with hoof or wing. What made the act distinct was that Kendrew found himself asking it over and over again; in his walk with the reeve of Grula there was hardly an ill creature to be put down in the local flocks of sheep, and he was suprised to find how many took on the enterprise of cattle. "I haven't gone to Talisker, yet." Kendrew rolled out his hand as if to pass the words on to the town before his body would go ,"I suspect to hear of such similiar fortune. The harvest from Drynoch this year, it was high. We have not here long, but the earth is good. The yield was more than expected, and those other fields we've given to different grain..they thrived." All the Reeve could do was nod his head in agreement with what the Laird noticed. No one else hadn't noticed these things. Men muttered about them in the ale houses, women talked about them at length while they hung out the laundry on crisp winter mornings. The reeve fell in stride with the Laird again and the dried grass crunched underneath their boots until the earth went soft when the pair crossed on to a main path once more. "McTavish," he gave the reeve his name as a summons, "what think ye of the year's fortune?"

The McTavish were a clan that served the name of Campbell and became a part of the greater scheme in that union. One discussing affairs with another wasn't a strange turn, no, the stranger turn came if one considered that the Laird to whom McTavish spoke was one who was a sept man himself, indebted to the Loch Awe. Here both men were liable to forget that larger consideration, tied only to one another, the flocks, and the earth underfoot. The island seemed much larger than it really was in the light of such fortune. Reeve McTavish gave an answer that was only honest, "I thank the Holy Host for it n' look tae the next day, n' the days after. I thank the Holy Host tha' we have food on our tables this season, n' full stores o' grain n' wheat. N' I pray the Holiest o' Holies allows the fog gae thick o' us from the outside, tha' we might keep it in peace."

As the wind lifted yet with no fog, Kendrew laughed as the air pushed through the pieces of his hair. The idea of cutting them a little had crossed his mind, but he saw no reason for such a change of yet. He had no reason to look more youthful, no one to impress who wished to be at youth's eternal fountain. The advantage of his age was that he appreciated what good came and understand the want to hide it away in order to protect it.

[Evangeline O'Cathasaigh]

The Countess of Leinster knew the beauty of silence. Not only could it save your face against hands ill wrought for appreciation, but it could sanctify it. God was found in the beauty of his smallest details. On the whim of the Highest King she slipped down from the precarious ledge of English aristocracy and Irish hatred. She should thank him, really. It far better to the the Countess of a greater region than the Duchess of a sordid one. From four faithful counties to land that equated to a former kingdom, the holdfast of O'Casey increased. With this prominence for once came no war. No farms were burned, or cattle raided. No taxes need be paid for prevention of the old horrors but instead people begrudging to associate came together in a sort of common understanding that the Highest King guaranteed them protection, and that under him the Ard Ri, the High King that was known as the Lord Governor, went his way leaving a silent wife in his place.

Irish thought was not changed ever so much as one would think in the half decade since one rise to supremacy and another's fall. It happened every day, as common as revolution. With the English throne under Griffin rule and Ireland a protectorate state, no one questioned the half decade old decision that came from an Ulster run North that had given Ulster to Skye as a province to protect, that now carried with it the rest of the green. No. In the East of Ireland the clans came to accords. Fields were harvested instead of burned for once, and cattle grew fat on the last of the grasses before the winter. Dublin had a chance to repair its walls and pave the last two miles of road leading in to the city, and three streets besides. A summer in the belly of the English beast turned out to Irish advantage, East Ireland dominant. Like the North it served as the gateway to things such as trade, and in fact took in the most imports of wine, fabric, and materials. Like the North, it now benefited from a stable government, enjoyed the benefit of more towns surrounding her glory, and the name of Casey stood for something profitable, good. Why none had a care for Scotland so long as it didn't seek to raid, burn, or fight any enemies on Ireland's shores; it never crossed anyone's mind save that of Evangeline. Her mind being not so stunted remembered her service to the Ard Ri and wondered if his wife would ever seek them again. She wondered of how her cousin fared and what it looked like in Turas Lan. She had fancied the city, only hadn't had time to tarry long. Her time as a widow seemed as short as that of a traveler. Faolan promised with the warmer seasons in other places they would seem them, but had a legacy to secure first.

How did that involve Campbell of Scotland?

Only one Campbell, particularly. Through mutual contacts and over the course of letters Lord Kendrew had to her rendered not only profitable consorts, but to him she gave knowledge of how a land he had fought on faired, and those who would trade his Scottish beasts for Irish ones all in the sake of breeding better wool and beef. It was a pleasent exchange, one that kept her at least tangible to the mind of one, though she was hardly the consumate courtier. In the most recent letter she read that the Lord's lands enjoyed a profitable autumn. He asked how her own ancestral lands faired as well as the greater bounty after a season of keeping it. There was talk of the court being summoned for the Winter, which gave her pause. It would mean having to move the short but still choppy distance over water. All the same she wondered if his position was precarious now. The Scotts and Irish admitted nothing in common while having mch: old, venerable cultures with storied traditions and heroes, an ancestral relation, the ability to war among themselves so well as to do all the work for an invader, a love of song, a penchant for drinking,and thick languages civilized Europeans wanted nothing to do with.

"You may write the Laird," she began one day in December. "We are pleased to recieve his words o' greetin' and care. Tell him that our harvests were bountiful both in Dublin and across all o' Leinster and nay one will starve this winter tha' it may be helped. It is an uncommon first. Bid him Happy Christmas n' all the blessings for his lady-wife ,lady-mother, sister ,and children. Ask him how goes his lot with the clans. It interests me, if only because I understand it at turns quite o' bits n' pieces. Six lots o' O'Cathasaighs n' all of them nearly killed the Dublin one. Yet here we be. I wonder how it is to be so new yet feel so venerated. Tell him that I have heard of the Queen's desire for a Winter Court and have recieved his Majesty's well wishes for the season. We may arrive after the twelve nights .Perhaps just shy o' Epiphany. Tell him we are thankful for his generous trade with us, and his sound advice. We are thankful for the McTavish advice as well, and are happy to hold his people in our lands. Tell him tha' I am married," it had been so for awhile now, but it was not announced abroad, only where it mattered. Erin. She still remained O'Casey but had an O'Connor for a husband. He, like the man before him, took her name but did so with more blessed intention than the last who slept cold this winter on a graved now unmarked for locals that marred the stone so much she had to pay for another. She had danced on Paul's grave, but would no more disturb his ghost. Commanding others to do the same he was thus left to a cold, dreary, and only sleep. "To an O'Connor man, who served the Governor faithful until he departed. His name is Faolan." The Wolf. Dublin had a Black Pool and a wolf that sat beside the banks of it now. A little fear in reputation mingled with the local penchant for holding close to rumor was used as much as good business sense. The scribe scritch scratched the quill over the paper becuase his mistress' hand was not useful to her on some winter days. In this way Paul still lingered, riddling her body, at the back of her mind. On those days Kendrew had told her to believe him suffering greater pain in Hell. If God had sent him thus. All in all it was a goodly balm.

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

He had recieved the letter in his hand on the time he made his way out toward the capital city with his family in tow. At his back was all new fortune while in front of him was the decades old glory only waiting to be defended again. He had risen, like many others, to do it. He had participated in the turning of the world on its whole axis. Kendrew would never say it wasn't worth it as strange-settled as part of his soul was anchored in the choices of his yesteryear. He was still a Scottsman first, commiserate not on whom he chose to serve. Like anyone else who claimed roots his would always be Lowland laid even if his kin were Argyll coast in claim. He was a man of the plow who took up the way of the warrior as all men do when they are called to task. On his arrival it would be under the banners of his house catching a winter wind. Under the blue he moved with a black boar against white stripes. His badge read his motto: Humility and Bravery, God be Thine that held together his fur mantle at his shoulder, the plaids underneath atop of his brown tunic. Within days he was within the ebb and flow of court once again; haunting rooms always kept for his kindred. The stones felt right under his feet and he found he even miss the parapets he once stood on daily. He even found the friends of Irish fame there, and he took comfort in the presence of having friends. Still, he could not forget where he came from. Down the road he felt as if he had gone one hundred miles from Drynoch to Turas Lan.

His lineage was akin to lambs, ewes, and rams. It was becoming numerous, generous in the resource it gave even if its origins were humble. He worried that to outgrow the pen would be to be noticed on the greater field of things.

[Lady Liliana Campbell]

Liliana had never been one to fear change, expected or unexpected, when it appeared. She'd experienced it numerous times from childhood to adulthood. Likely would again any number of times before her time passed. Of course, it wasn't always easy to adapt to adjustments as they both knew. Kendrew and Liliana had went through as much trouble adapting to the changes occurring during the clan wars that shook Skye. Yet, in the end, they'd come out of it well enough.

With a better understanding of what they both meant to each other, and just how important it was to cherish your loved ones. The effects of the war, how families could be torn apart with the start of lies, had been enough to shake the foundations of all those who sat in the court to listen. There'd been countless expressions of shock, sorrow, anger, joy, love, and many more emotions on those days. Liliana couldn't believe that she'd been stubborn for as long as she had, and they'd only healed during their stay at Eilean Donan as the celebration for the end of that sad affair had commenced.

Yet even then trouble still had come to the valley later, but luckily- for those in Drynoch, it seemed they were to remain clear of that, and life could go on. As days passed and winter approached there'd been land to tend and children to raise. Even those women, and men, who'd begun to make her life hell were being put in their place. Though some still made trouble. Little Morgan grew as did the other children, and Liliana knew that soon time would come for Roric and Kylie to be begin their time in fosterage...and Glenna seemed to grow so fast that she feared that day would come for her as well all too soon.

Liliana took comfort in time spent with Lara and Dona, and Kendrew on occasion- as alone time between husband and wife was necessary to a smoothly running relationship, in the common household chores of a Laird's wife. Cuin Siar underwent changes to its interior- furniture cleaned, floors swept, rushes woven, and more. Liliana sought to give a fresh change to their home for winters arrival though as news of court presented itself she knew they'd not stay there long.

Even now they resided in the walls of the castle. Liliana once again helped in the kitchens or about the halls, and spent time with Bess acting once again as a lady, while the children romped and Kendrew went about business. Yet the ugliest thing to begin would be gossip- sure to be present eventually in court, that the Lady Campbell was gallivanting with many men. For was that not her who wandered the gardens path laughing heartily and occasionally touching a hand intimately to shoulder or chest? Why some even dared bring up a walk they once witness many moons ago in the moonlit hours between the Lady Campbell and the Lord Peregrine Inveryne. Little things such as that, old things, could be spun as was wont by wagging tongues.

Liliana was currently unaware of this as she wiped hands covered in flour against an apron stained with some sort of fruit juice. "About us the world changes and us with it. Years ago when I came to Skye never would I have expected to be where I am now. Court? Perhaps as a servant, but never as the wife to a Laird. I'd not have thought to have a family either. A miracle indeed, no?" She spoke softly to Dona in tones of rich warmth. Occasionally the kitchen would be filled with laughter as the women chatted about this or that, or tossed pieces of food at each other like wee children as they baked, which led to Dona's face being painted with mixture of jam and pastry, Lara's gown being stayed with red from berries, and Liliana's ebon strands looking a bit gray from a smattering of flour.

"Och, indeed. Ne'er did we think our Kendrew be a lad married. Ah were of a mind ta believe he'd be a bachelor until Ah was in mah grave. Isnae tha' right, Lara?" Dona glanced toward her daughter who gave a smiling nod while popping a berry into her mouth.

Liliana grinned wider,""To be honest I thought he would be one too when I first met him. All those women tittering over his handsome face and toned body, and he ignoring them. Fortunate is he, and you both, that he didn't marry one of those chattering birds."

She wondered as both women laughed just where her handsome husband was. It was knowledge that he'd gotten a letter just before they left for court, but not a clue of its contents did she have.

[Sir Kendrew Campbell]

The letter from the Leinster region wasn't something that stayed in his pocket nor was it anything to hide from Liliana, it was only that he had forgotten in all of the excitement to mention he would have any truck with the Irish that came. Ireland, like Scotland and the island of Skye that lived in its shadow were a part of him because his blood was lost for years in the soil with his flesh and a keen sense of righteous inspired service. The distance between the places was scant if one was searching for no particular point on the map of each, yet it seemed between them he had walked over many thousands of miles in his years. By now the Christmas holidays and come, the 12th night was gone. Everyone settled in to the rhythm of beginning the New Year with renewed vigor.


"Good day, sir. Good day, my lord." He uttered it many times in an hour to his fellow men. It didn't bother him to do it. He was pleased to see squires who had become knights in their own rights, knights rewarded. When it was time to sojourn in the Great Hall he did so with conversation under his tongue. For once he could enjoy the world around him without wondering who would solicit it to fall. Sir Brom of the North looked good beside Her Majesty, Sir Dimitrii Zurban was of neither age or mind to retire his post, and the Queen's brother Prince Caldean and her nephew Prince Brycean were never far from her side though the young one took his tours as the young are apt to do. No, for once the world was right after so many seasons of unrest. A bloody, feud riddled summer gave way to the Valley's murderous fall. He should for a time a guilt of the people who settled on his lands with every intent to leave their own behind, but the sudden influx came with what food-stuffs they could carry, their skills, and the chance for more than livestock to be pinned in Drynoch, Talisker, and Grula. When he asked the magistrates for a listing of the new residents out of curiosity, not only came beasts but people skilled in animal husbandry. Not only came those who could breed the beasts, but leather smiths, more blacksmiths, and many more. Combined with the bounty from the harvests of Drynoch, and what the magistrates told him of the other two areas, he was left in some shock. Still he was no fool . He used the fortune to procure a wall be built around Drynoch's outer limits that even now was still being risen from the piled stones. There would be a strong gate to close and firm walkways for the men to stand on. For his own home came the promise of more building to it in the Spring, a large smokehouse. Should Laura deem any man worthy of her hand there would be a suitable dowry of monies and deed to acreage in Talisker for the benefit of her own household. Aye, he would see one raised there, waiting at her leisure. There would be the futures of the children to secure tighter than already they were, and still he could use some to see them all attired in new garb. It was died in their favorite colors, shoes were made, and he would not hear them gasp at the expense. "What matter to discuss," he would reply when asked of business. He would promise to discuss with his wife the fosterage of others in their household, suppers to attend, seats shared for morning mass. As usual he found one thing that never changed, that he detested most, was how many always sought him to bend the ears of the King or Queen.

His name was close to power, it always would be.

As their time increased and hours turned to days he noticed that the more people that arrived the more tongues wagged. He paid no heed to the gossip concerning his lady-wife, even if a well meaning man should tell him what his wife or sister passed on to him. His wife was so faithful it was she who feared his leaving of her! No, he would never, nor would she ever, tear what was good asunder if it could be helped. He stood in the hall alone. Looking back over his shoulder, he swore he saw the ghosts of their discontent still arguing. A shooting pain in his arm reminded him of that same ire; the pain he earned in Kyleakin was his wife's knowledge beholden unto God that he should remain at her side unless all else was lost. There were younger men, fitter, to fight while minds like his were the stuff of seasoned planning, training, and good advice. If he should pass other clansmen whom he fought beside for the Laird of Moill, they would say that after the battle was done they remembered him screaming. What he had seen in his life was terrible. In the last half decade he had seen the most terrible of all. Some sad he spoke to his brother if no one was around. Others paid it no mind, commenting instead on how richly he was dressed, the cut of his trews or the doublets cut, the shell of the buttons, or the fineness of the fabric. He was not the same man who walked about in the drab earthliness to which he allowed himself to be accustomed. From the ashes of his old way rose a new: it was this embracing of life he feared still as much as the other trappings he had right and accord to use or enjoy. They were so evident. Even as his family fell in line with their tasks, no matter how keen their virtue, they were well taken care of.

He came to the kitchen to listen to the chatter of the women, watching as he did in their own home when they baked the bread themselves. Liliana would have to wonder no more. "Good day, Campbell women," he bowed to them, "What talk is here? I only had no cause for women or want of them. There was none to turn me to cause or want until my wife came in to the service of her grace. Stop to talk about a chieftain, as if he be a gelded horse. Nay so so, nay so, with such fine heirs. Perhaps more, when the time is right" Dona grinned. Oh it did a mother proud, to live so long to see her eldest son emass such honor, wealth, and a strong household. God willing, she'd live long enough to see her daughter go to a second marriage that would be strong enough to last her the days of her life, blessed with children to fill a void left by the absence of her first ones. "Tha' makes me happeh to hear. More children indeed, more to the line. Now, wot ye be about a kitchen for, Kendrew? Yer fine clothes will only get flour on 'em." He shook his head, leaving the lot alone all save for Liliana. "To fetch and share of news with my lady-wife. Who knows the household has many a fine woman who makes bread, and where she could only pour a cup of water or sit with her majesty, she will never cease to work herself. Come you, breadmaker. Let us leave them to it n' go where they can not be spies." He captured her about the waist, kissed her cheek, and waited for her to follow him. He had much to tell her.