by Fiona Faris
He was awoken from his reverie by the appearance of Angus at the keep door. Angus scanned the courtyard, and when he spied Uilleam, he waved him across.
“Come away in, Uilleam, lad,” he cried, holding out his arm as Uilleam hurried across the cobbles to him.
Uilleam fell into step beside him as Angus turned to re-enter the keep. He allowed Angus to drape his arm over his shoulders and draw him into his confidence.
“MacColl, MacGillemichael, MacLeay have agreed to a confederacy,” Angus beamed. “But there are conditions.
The climbed the stair to the first floor and re-entered the hall. MacColl, MacGillemichael, and Macleay were still sitting where Uilleam had left them earlier, leaning back in their chairs with smug, satisfied looks on their faces. Angus resumed his seat between MacColl and MacLeay, and Uilleam sat opposite them, beside MacGillemichael.”
Angus cleared his throat.
“We are agreed to form a confederation of out clans to meet the threat of the Campbells,” he announced, “but these are the conditions. I am to serve as the high chief, but only in military matters. I will command the confederate forces in the field but will otherwise have no say over the conduct or affairs of the separate clans. The confederacy will be invoked only for the purpose of our mutual protection and at no other times. It will lie latent in times of peace and only be active in times of war. I will never be invoked against any of the clans that are its members.”
The other clan chiefs were watching Uilleam closely. Uilleam nodded slowly.
“Do you, as chief of the clan MacGregor, agree to these terms?” Angus asked.
“I can,” Uilleam replied, his voice strong and sonorous.
“The let it be so,” Angus declared. “Now,” he continued, “our plan of campaign.”
The chieftains drew up their seats and inclined their heads over the table, suddenly brisk and businesslike.
“The main body of the Campbell forces are currently camped at Kylquhurne Castle. These are the host that fell upon Uilleam’s people at Meggernie. The fact that they have withdrawn only as far as Kylquhurne could mean one of two things. Either they are being left there to intimidate us and make us more amenable to the Campbells’ will, the message being that if we do not toe the line, the same fate will befall us as befell the MacGregors. Or else the Campbells mean to move against us and drive us from our glens.”
The others nodded, agreeing with Angus’s assessment.
“Whichever way it is,” Angus continued, “these forces at Kylquhurne are the immediate threat. I propose that we do not wait to find out what the Campbells’ intention is but take the initiative and strike first. They will not be expecting such a bold move, and it will give us the element of surprise. If we strike successfully, it will also give the Campbells pause. We will have shown our collective strength, and they will think again about meddling with us in our homelands.”
“And what if we fail?” MacLeay “What then will stop an enraged Neil Campbells from proceeding to clear our glens with fire and sword?”
“Then we must not fail,” Uilleam growled. “But if we do, then at least we shall have gone down fighting and not just waited like bleating lambs for the slaughterer.”
“That is easy for you to say, MacGregor,” MacColl observed. “Your clan is already gone; you have nothing left to lose. For us, it is a more desperate course to take.”
Uilleam glowered from one to the other of the MacColl and MacLeay.
“And your clans are already gone too if we do not act,” he replied.
“MacGregor is right,” MacGillemichael added. “We stand at a crossroads. The road we must take is clear, even if it does not offer us any guarantee that it will lead to the destination we seek. We have little choice but to take it.”
Both MacColl and MacLeay shifted uncomfortably in their seats and said no more.
Angus resumed.
“This is how we shall play it. Even with our forces combined, the Campbell host will outnumber us four- or five-to-one. We cannot hope to prevail against them in the open field, so what I propose is that we draw them into an ambush. Euan, you will take your men to Kylquhurne and lift their cattle in the night, not long before dawn, leaving a good trace that it was the MacColls who did the deed. I expect the Campbells will want to punish you for the cheek of it and set out in pursuit, much as they set out to Meggernie to punish the Campbells for the cheek of Uilleam’s raid on Inveraray. As they enter through the pass to Glen Mhoille, they will meet you standing ready to fight. At that moment, Sandy here with his men shall appear in the pass behind them, while the MacGillemichaels shall rush down the slope on their left flank and the Gunns down the slope on their right, and together we will make their heads dance and the Mhoille run red with their blood.”
MacGillemichael rubbed his hands together.
“It is a fine plan,” he enthused. “The Campbells will not know what has hit them. And, by the time they do, it will be too late.”
“Then we march on Kylquhurne and raise it to the ground,” Uilleam snarled through gritted teeth. “That will send a message to Neil Campbell in Inveraray that we are not to be meddled with.”
“Aye,” Angus concluded, looking around the assembled faces. “What say you all? Are we agreed?
“Agreed!” MacGillemichael exclaimed, bringing his fist down onto the table and making the plate and goblets dance.
“Agreed,” both MacColl and MacLeay murmured, though neither looked completely happy nor convinced.
“Then go home and raise your clans,” Angus told them, standing up to signal that the conference was concluded. “We will rendezvous where the Orchy, Strae, and Mhoille meet, at midnight, three days hence.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
A wood near Clyth Castle
Later the same day
Later that afternoon, after dine, Uilleam and Siusan met at the edge of the outer ward and rode down into the woodland that fringed the banks of the Orchy as it flowed past Clyth.
Uilleam led the way along the narrow, rough path between the trees, walking his mount at a leisurely pace. Siusan followed, her reins loose, both of her hands clasped tight around the saddle-horn, letting Oighrig, her mare, trail Uilleam’s handsome stallion like a lovelorn maid. They both rode on in silence.
But Siusan’s silence had changed. No longer was it the stubborn silence that she had maintained towards him as an unwelcome companion; now it was a grim silence that held a determined resolution, the resolution of a woman who had reached a decision and was bent on following that decision through, come what may. Uilleam kept stealing glances back at her, but Siusan’s eyes remained fixed on the trees as they flickered by in the bright afternoon sunlight; it was as if she had forgotten Uilleam was even there. But her eyes were also fixed on the future, a future in which Uilleam appeared, but only hazily.
Shortly into their journey, Oighrig stumbled and came up lame, bringing Siusan back to the present. Uillean slipped from his saddle and stooped to run his hand over the cannon and fetlock of Oighrig’s lame foot.
“You must ride back,” she told him, as he examined the injury, “and bring me a fresh mount.”
Uilleam carefully let the injured hoof back down onto the ground.
“I cannot leave you alone in the woods,” he grinned. “What if you were to stumble on some outlaws. You know how lax the clan chief hereabouts is about letting villains run free about his woods. The country is rife with them.”
Siusan scoffed.
“I have played in these woods since I was a little girl. I am perfectly safe.”
“No,” Uilleam raised his hand to fend off any further objections, “you must ride up here with me. We can tether your wee mare to my pony’s tail.” He chuckled. “It will also save me a journey back with another mount. I am famished for your company, you know.”
He stepped towards her and took both her hands in his. Siusan let out a little cry of delighted surprise as he scooped her up into his arms and sat her on his
horse’s withers, just in front of the saddle. He swung himself up behind her and reached around her to pick up the reins, securing her in his arms. Her legs gripped the stallion’s powerful shoulders, and she leaned back into the security of his deep chest, as he urged their mount back into an easy walk. Uilleam smiled contentedly as he gazed over her head into the middle-distance.
He clasped his arms around her waist and hugged her warmly. She could feel the heat of his body through shirt and tunic, the rasp of his beard resting on the crown of her head. She snuggled close, turning her head to rub her cheek against his chest. She raised her face to his, with a look that drew him down towards her. Her eyes shone with invitation, her moist lips parted.
He kissed her, and she drank his kiss thirstily. Her tongue flicked against his, and she gave a little mewl of pleasure as a wave of desire flooded her, a pulse of warmth that rose from the depths of her belly and suffused her whole being. She leaned back into his broad chest; it felt so right, her nestling there, and she knew that he would keep her safe, that she could rely on his strength to protect her from any peril, from any storm that rose to buffet her on life’s way.
He was the man for her. The realization surprised her. Not so long ago, she would have laughed at the suggestion that she could fall for such a rough and uncultivated warrior, a man who did not appear to have a tender or loving bone in his body. She had been repelled by the casual violence he had displayed towards the outlaws in Glen Orchy and the soldiers at Inveraray, his rude manners in the hall at dine, his merciless teasing of her, and the discourtesy with which he had treated her feelings and dignity. He had spanked her like an errant child, for heaven’s sake, during their journey back from Loch Fyne! But all that faded into insignificance as she felt her heart yearn for him and the hunger for him that stirred in her loins.
She slipped from the horse and drew him down, leading him back into the woods until she felt her shoulders come to rest against the broad girth of a beech tree. He pinned her to the rough bark, and she wound her long, tapered legs around his hips. She reached down, dragged up the kilt of his belted plaid and pushed his braies aside to release his manhood. Gently she lowered herself onto him, giving a little yelp as he tore her maidenhead.
She moaned as she felt him fill her. With her legs, she pulled him as deep as he could go. She threw back her head, and he put his mouth to the long slender throat she exposed to him. She began to rise and fall along his length, and he responded with gentle rhythmic thrusts. Faster and faster they moved against each other, with firmer and firmer thrusts, his gasps echoed by the little sobs that were wrung from her chest. Suddenly, her world melted out of focus, and her body shuddered with a deep, intense orgasm, through which Uilleam continued to push until he exploded inside her and flooded her with his seed.
Siusan continued to cling to him long after their climax, clung to him as if she would never let him go. Their breath came in deep, steady draughts as if they were both asleep. He grew limp within her and eventually slithered out, a trickle of his seed running down the inside of her thigh.
He lifted her from the tree and set her down gently. She wobbled, her legs feeling suddenly weak, and she grasped his shoulders to steady herself. The eyes she raised to him were dreamy and content. They kissed again, taking a long deep drink of one another.
“Siusan,” Uilleam murmured.
“Uilleam,” Siusan responded.
“Will you marry me, lass?”
Siusan looked up at him in sudden surprise, her blue eyes searching, unasked questions creasing her brow.
He looked back down into that lustrous eggshell blue, just as surprised. Where had that come from?
“I intend to ask your father for your hand,” he told her in amazement as if learning of his intention for the first time himself.
She gave him a puzzled look.
“You would marry me?” she asked in amazement.
“I shall marry you,” he corrected her with firm determination. “Just as soon as we have driven the Campbells out of our lands.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The confluence of the Mhoille, the Orchy, and the Strae
Three days later
Uilleam and his few remaining clansmen matched with the Gunns. They traveled through the night and arrived at their rendezvous point not long before midnight. The MacGillemichaels had already arrived before them. Together, they numbered about 175 men.
It was a moonless night. The sky was overcast. The darkness was almost complete. A hollow silence reigned, apart from the constant gurgle of the three creeks as they married their waters before rushing past Kylquhurne and spreading into Loch Awe.
“No sign yet of the MacColls and the MacLeays?” Angus enquired after greeting Hugh MacGillemichael.
“No,” Hugh confirmed, “but there is time yet. The sun does not rise for another three hours. That gives us plenty of time to get into our positions before rousing the Campbells.”
Angus blew out a breath.
“Well, I hope they do not cut it too fine. We need to be in the cover of the hills before there is light enough for us to be spotted.”
“They will be here, do not worry,” Hugh reassured him.
Uilleam did not feel quite so confident. It seemed to him that both the MacColls and the MacLeays had only been lukewarm at the most towards their plan when they had left Clyth after the conference.
Time wore on, and still, they did not appear.
“It is looking like they have pulled out, damn them,” Angus grumbled, casting a pensive eye at the sky as it began to lighten in the east.
Hugh followed his gaze.
“Whit are we tae do then?” he asked. “We are no’ strong enough tae take them on by oorselves. Even in an ambush, there would no’ be enough o’ us tae prevail against Campbell’s army.”
“We melt back into the glens,” Angus answered.
Uilleam spat in exasperation.
“I say that we raid them anyway, lift their cattle at least… Anything tae show that we will no’ be pushed ‘round by the Campbells, that if they enter oor glens, they will hae a fight on their hands. We cannae just turn an’ run away. Whit message would that send oot tae Inveraray?”
Angus reached out his hand and grabbed Uilleam’s tunic by the shoulder and shook him roughly as if to shake some sense into him.
“Peace, lad, and what good would that do us? The Campbells would just run into Glen Orchy after us, take back their cattle, and put us to the sword. It is just the kind of excuse they will be looking for to move against us. No, we must step back and bide our time, find out why the MacColls and the MacLeays did not show and consider where we go from here. There is no point in squandering what few fighting men we have, just to vent our frustrations and disappointments.”
Uilleam snarled and stamped the ground.
“I will vent my frustrations and disappointments on the heads of the MacColls and the MacLeays, the treacherous swine that they are, leaving us in the lurch like this. It would not surprise me were the pair of them in Inveraray at this very moment, currying favor with Neil Campbell in the hope of being allowed to live as his pair of wee lapdogs.”
Angus shoved his shoulder.
“Wheesht, man! We do not know the reason why the others have failed to show.”
It was Uilleam’s turn to shove him back.
“Don’t be daft, Angus Mor! What other reason could there be?” he retorted, his voice heavy with scorn. “They have taken cold feet. And rather than pay us the courtesy of warning us, they let us tramp down here to do battle on our own. They are beneath contempt.”
Hugh stepped between them.
“Let us no’ fall oot o’er the matter,” he said. “Whitever the rights an’ wrongs o’ it, Angus Mor is right; we must withdraw. There is no sense in leading tae the slaughter five-score men who would be sorely missed in any future action. Besides, Angus Gunn is oor commander. If he says ‘retreat’, we retreat.”
By then, although da
ybreak was still about an hour away, curlews and skylarks had begun the dawn chorus. They pierced the silence with their cries, which steadily multiplied as more and more birds awoke all around them.
“Away to your men and take them back to Glen Mhoille,” Angus told Hugh. “We shall live to fight another day.”