Gareth Ogilvie The Highland War Chieftain

By J W Murison

When word reaches the Highlands that The Great Sea King once more threatens all nations and communications is suddenly cut off from the Lowlands. The Great Highland Council sends a hundred and twenty hand picked Highland warriors under the command of Gareth Ogilvie to discover what is happening. Behind them the Highland Nation prepares for war, while Gareth leads this band of men, most of them life long enemy's in to the adventure of a life time. They will fight in battles of epic proportions, facing prehistoric monsters with little more than long spears. Myth and magic grip the Lowlands as the Great Sea King, the most powerful wizard in the world attempts to seize the last kingdom not under his power by subversion. Love potions, magic mists and invisibility cloaks, are only a part of what this mage will get up to, to win for himself the great lands of Clover. How will Gareth Ogilvie and his Warrior band stop this Evil, step inside and see. With beautiful Princesses, Giant War Eagles and their riders, there is plenty here to feast the imagination. Their journey will take them from the mountains of their homeland with peeks that rival the Himalayas, to burning deserts in a sea of bones. Join the greatest warriors of their times as they fight the biggest battles of their lives and fall in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J W Murison
• Release date: Dec 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311808394

J W Murison

I was born in the cottage hospital of Fyvie in Aberdeenshire in 1961. I grew up on various farms in Aberdeenshire until I was eleven and then our family moved to Morayshire. I did not enjoy High School there. I was frequently belted for not being able to do my homework or producing illegible work most teachers couldn’t read or couldn’t be bothered trying to read. As a result of this, I was often shoved into special needs classes where the teacher taught nothing but religion. At the age of fifteen, a month before my sixteenth birthday I joined the British Army. I remember the recruiting sergeant coming out laughing with my test results in his hands and telling me I could not get a trade in the army as my test results were too low. I didn’t care, I wanted to run up and down hills with a gun and blow shit up. Thankfully I was bright enough for that and I joined the infantry. I served a total of seven years under the colours, from the jungles of Central America to the streets of Northern Ireland. My home and family were the men of the 1st Battalion The Gordon Highlanders.When I left the Army I found getting a job extremely difficult at first. My first job was driving a chippy van and my first full-time job was at ICI Powfoot where I made gunpowder. From there I have had many jobs. I have worked in building sites and on the roads. In peat bogs and kitchens washing dishes. I have waited tables and driven furniture removal vans. Picked fruit and vegetables in season and driven Taxis. In essence, I could and would turn my hand to whatever put food on the table and kept a roof over my head.At the age of twenty-five and having been a year unemployed I reached one of the major milestones in my life. Disillusioned and getting desperate I was persuaded to try a part-time course at the college. Of course, I had to pick the one thing that scared me the most, computers. It was to my great surprise that not only was I able to complete the course but I enjoyed it as well. So I signed up for a full year. For the first time in my life, I found that I could communicate with people on the same level. It was a revelation. It was then I began to suspect for the first time that I wasn’t as stupid as I had been led to believe throughout my life to that point. However, the winds of fate picked me up and blew me away before I could take it any farther and it was another twenty-five years before I would return to pick up where I had left off.This of course doesn’t explain my preoccupation with books. The only thing I found I could do really well as a youngster was read. Now as you may suspect by now I have learning difficulties. In fact, I am registered as disabled with learning difficulties. I am dyslexic, have dyscalculia and a few other associated problems. I know some might be frowning right now as many dyslexics have problems reading. I was told when I was assessed that I have a rare form of dyslexia where my reading abilities are probably above the norm; however, my ability to write legibly, grammar, punctuation and numeracy skills are well below average. This of course is reflected in my writing. At first, I had to get friends to edit all of my work. Even then many errors slip past and were often commented on. Once I began to make some money from my novels, I turned to professional proofreaders. The first book I had edited by a professional proofreader was Teardrops in the Night Sky. Now all of the Steven Gordon series has been proofread, and most of my later novels as well. The simple cost of proofreading is the one thing that stops me from doing it with all of my novels. Having a very poor education with few qualifications has always kept me on the breadline where work and pay is concerned. So it’s going to be a little while longer before I actually make any money from my books as the royalties from them will go straight towards having the next one proofread. All of the novels on Smashwords have been proofread by a professional.Some may ask, why not go to a publishing house? Yeah okay, that’s a fair question but I don’t think I'm ready yet. Too many people trying to do the same thing all at the same time. I also don’t like the idea of being told what to write as has happened to many writers I know who are with publishing houses. There are far too many people following the formula for success rather than writing what they love or what they want to write. Publishing houses also follow the trend to keep the money rolling in. I don’t actually care a damn about any of that; I swap genre like my wife swaps outfits getting ready for a day out. To date, I have written Romance, Science Fiction, War and Science Fiction Fantasy Adventures. My short stories also include Horror, Children’s stories and Drama. None of this takes into account my poetry either. I don’t have to write a short synopsis or seek approval from editors either. I just write what the hell I like, when I like. Is it the right or wrong thing to do? I suppose in the end it is just a matter of opinion. For me, it is the right thing. To become a literary giant or a best selling author, then it is probably by far the wrong thing to do.I can see in my mind's eye a few shaking their head and wondering what the hell I’m all about. For me, it’s all about fun. I love the exploration of the mind. Whether my characters are in a romantic bind in some blistering desert or being chased across the universe by the bad guys, I don’t care, I just love the journey. Maybe that is the point of my writing across so many genres. I think to only write in one genre would crush me eventually, I am not the kind of person you can kick into a pigeonhole and leave there. I want to have a wee keek at what's around the corner, climb into the next hole over; have a root about and then move on. Of late I have discovered that some of my readers have also decided to join me on the journey. As I have moved from pigeonhole to pigeonhole, a brave few have begun to follow. It is such a buzz when a reader who normally only reads Romance novels, tells you she read your brutal alien invasion novel and loved it.My books are about the characters, it is they who tell the story. I think it is that character development that helps my readers cross the boundaries with me. I am sometimes surprised by how invested some of my readers become in the characters I write about. Not only surprised but delighted. For seventeen years I sat and scribbled away in A5 jotters or banged away on an old laptop that only had a few hours of battery life. Every now and then I would take an old book out of the cupboard and read it, then shove it away for a few years. Only a select few were privy to those novels and they could never understand why I never sent them to a publisher. I knew there was little hope of a mainstream publisher taking me on, especially considering the extra work my disabilities would bring. So I sat on them for seventeen years; until about seven years ago, when I began another book and stopped to ask myself a question. What the hell was I doing? So with the help of a friend I had a wee website built, but it was a bit of a flop as no one knew me and no one wanted to buy a book from a complete unknown. It was suggested that I put my books on Amazon. I put them on Kindle and was immediately slated for my grammar etc. That discouraged me for a while but then my friends and family began to step into the breach and helped me edit them. The remarks about my grammar and misuse of words have dropped considerably now and more and more people are taking the journey with me.I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading this and it puts some perspective on myself and my writing. To date, only one of my books is available to order from your local books store or library and that is “Teardrops In The Night Sky”. It is the most popular of my novels and is a simple adventure story that crosses many boundaries. Teenagers to pensioners have written and told me of their delight at reading this novel. For the older generation, it is the type of adventure without foul language and all the heavy sex scenes most modern novels contain. For them, it’s a step back in time to the kind of pure adventure they were brought up with. For the young, it’s something new to explore. It just so happens it's also my mothers favourite novel. Of course, now it has been professionally proofread I am going to have to give her a fresh novel. The rest of my books are all available on Amazon as is Teardrops; in Kindle, paperback and hardback format.J W Murison

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The beating rain began to slacken to little more than a drizzle. The marching men started to throw off the tartan plaids they had been using to keep the worst of the rain off. Gareth wrung his out before tossing it back over his shoulder. Despite the good wringing, the tail of cloth still slapped him on the back of his knees. He grunted his discomfort and as quickly ignored it.

He led a band of warriors a hundred and twenty strong all told. Before him, the glen began to widen and rolled up to a wide saddle. His strong legs carried him easily to the top. Weaving round a small boulder field, his legs stopped so suddenly that Graun his second in command almost crashed into him.

‘Ach man, what are ye doing?’ he growled. For three months he had followed the broad shoulders in front and this was the first time Gareth had done something un-warned. Then his eyes saw what had stopped Gareth so suddenly, ‘Oh man a’ peeps.’

One by one the rest of the warriors caught up and followed their leader’s example. Before them a vista had opened up, one like they had never seen before.

‘Ever seen anything like this before Graun?’

‘No Gareth, never. No man here either I’m thinking, not by the way they are all staring anyway.’

Gareth suddenly remembered his place, looked round at his gawking men, and smiled. He must have looked just as stupid and witless a moment ago. It was an awe-inspiring sight. The mountains of their birth gave way to a vast sea of green. Green trees, open meadows and far far away for as far as the eye could see, an ocean of grass.

Graun let out a sigh, ‘Man I never knew the world was so big’

‘Aye’ Gareth agreed, ‘but we’d better no dawdle here. Let’s move down to that pasture on the edge of the forest there. I can see a stream and there's plenty wood. We’ll stop for the night and send the bowmen out to hunt for our supper. Let’s get them moving.’

‘Ok. You heard the man, move out before you start growing roots.’

The warrior band quickly covered the next five miles to the open meadow on the fringes of a great upland forest. They set up camp and lit fires, the bowmen were sent out with a ringing warning from Graun, ‘Don’t shoot anybody’s cows, we’re not here to raid, wild animals only. If you see any natives smile and wave, be nice.’

For some reason the statement brought a gale of laughter from the men. Gareth found himself grinning too, ‘Good advice should have thought of that myself.’

‘It’s your job to lead, its mine to cover the little things’

Gareth wondered not for the first time at Graun’s motives. Graun was the War Chieftain of the Grant Clan and the more experienced man. He was taller than Gareth and had a commanding presence, yet he had meekly stood aside to let the smaller man take command of this expedition.

‘Well, we’re in the lowlands now Graun, are you going to tell me why you stepped aside for me when you were favourite.’

Graun smiled, ‘I didn’t step aside. I asked the council to make you leader.’

‘Like hell. Why?’

‘Might tell you that another day,’ he grinned.

Gareth shook his head in confusion. Graun pointed to something in the grass and pulled out a few blades, ‘Good grass this and there's sign of cattle but where are they? They should be here fattening up before winter.’

‘I know,’ Gareth agreed, ‘I did notice, I think it’s a sign the rumours were true. If they are preparing for a fight, then they would have taken many of the beasts to feed an army.’

‘Aye but there's none, surely they would have left some.’

‘Unless the army is huge, then they would pull everything in.’

‘I still don’t like it. We should have received envoys.’

‘Should have, I agree, the whole thing stinks and we’re not even there yet,’ Gareth finished his fireplace and struck steel to flint. A few well-aimed sparks caught and he blew some dried moss into a flame and put it to the kindling he’d gathered. The fire was soon crackling merrily.

Nearby two men were looking out over the vista. The smallest and youngest on the expedition stood on a rock, ‘Is that the sea, Beast?’

His companion the largest man in the company growled, ‘Yer dim Alan. Have ye ever seen green water?’

‘Aye, the water in Loch Ayer’s is aye green.’

‘Aye, but no the colour of grass, lad. That’s a sea all right but a sea of grass.’

‘Nah, there canna be that much grass. I’ve heard of a place called the ocean, a sea of salt water that never ends, goes on forever.’

‘Nothing goes on forever lad. It has to start somewhere and end somewhere else, but that’s grass. I've heard of your ocean. You’ll march for three years from our home to reach it. We've only been marching three months; now get off that bloody rock and get some work done.’

He gave the youngster a shove and with a yelp Alan tumbled off his perch. ‘Hey!’

‘Hays for horses! Move your lazy arse, or we’ll be going cold tonight.’

The hunters began to return with fresh meat, and by nightfall all the men had full bellies. Gareth felt replete. The men began to gather at his hearth as darkness fell. He was glad of the company for once. The sight of the vast expanse before them had left him shaken and, more so, some of the men. They talked in subdued tones to their friends as he talked to Graun. It was he who suggested he talk to the men before they turn in for the night and decided it was probably a good idea. He stood on the same rock Alan had earlier and regarded the warriors assembled before him. They were good men and true. Each man proven in battle, even the small Alan was a warrior of note.

‘Highlanders, warriors. Today we left the sanctuary of our hills and have entered the Kingdom of the Clover Kings for the first time in near five hundred years. We’re here because word has reached us that the King of the Sea Kingdom has risen again. We are betrothed as a nation to help the Clover King against The Great Sea King. As you all know, no assistance was asked for. We are here on a rumour only. Why we weren’t summoned, no one knows. Is our information correct, again we don’t know? Is this some form of trap devised by The Great Sea King, we don’t know. That’s why everyone must be on their best behavior when we meet any locals or armed forces.

In the time before Kings we raided these lands for cattle and women. Then rose the first Great King, The Sea King, he was far worse to these people than we ever were. Then he invaded our Highland homes. We fought him twice and defeated his great armies; he was so impressed he called for a truce. We were stupid and trusted him. While our Chieftains were haggling over the spoils of victory, The Great Sea King, with the aid of sorcery located our home villages. His soldiers captured our women and children, as a nation we were enslaved. Forced to fight his battles and win them; which we did.’

There were growls of agreement from the watching men.

‘Then arose the second Great King, from the Clover Lands we see below us today. Such was the suffering the Sea King had inflicted on the peoples of all lands that great armies were raised against him. They too had their magic and wizardry, but they never had us. Twice we defeated them in battle. On the eve of the last battle, which would have wiped them out a messenger from the Clover King appeared in our camp. They had rescued our women and children and now they were the ones who held them captive.

In return for their safety we were to turn on our slave master; after the battle we would be free to return to our homeland, on two conditions. We never again raided the Lands of Clover and if summoned we would return and fight at the Clover Kings side. To this day, five hundred years in passing we have kept our word. There is no Highland settlement within two hundred miles of the Clover Lands, to prevent temptation.’

The men laughed and Gareth smiled with them.

‘Aye, I know, but it worked anyway. Until this day though, we have never been called to battle.’ The men stopped laughing. ‘And still we are not called. We have been hearing for many years now of how The Great Sea King has began to muster his great armies once more. More ruthless, more powerful than any that has gone before. Slowly they have eaten up the lands between the sea and the Clover Kingdom. Now they stand gathered at its border, and still we are not called; so we’re going knocking on the door, hopefully we’ll be treated as honoured guests.’

‘Is it the same King?’ Alan asked to a great roar of laughter from the gathered men. He yelped as the Beast gave him a playful thump and a scowl.

Gareth held up his hand, ‘no, don’t laugh. That was a good question Alan from the Dale. Five hundred years have passed since we turned on The Great Sea King and freed our children. Five hundred years since we freed the world from his terror. Five hundred years.’ He paused for effect. ‘It seems impossible, but he escaped using magic and was never heard from again. Who knows, maybe the same magic kept him alive. Our forefathers banned magic from the Highlands, but these Lowlanders are steeped in it. It’s something we have to consider and take very seriously. If it is the same King,’ Gareth shook his head trying to find the right words.

‘We’re in deep shit,’ Graun offered.

Gareth laughed and the men with him, ‘aye Graun, and so eloquently put.’ Graun roared as loudly as the men, ‘but your right.’ The laughter faded. ‘We ended his reign of terror and if it is him, he won’t be happy. Even if it isn’t him and some distant ancestor, I'm sure they won’t have forgotten us because we haven’t forgotten them. They will want retribution if the Clover Lands are conquered. Believe that if you believe in nothing else in this world. We may be all that stands between our people and annihilation. That’s what the council believes, and that's what I believe.’ Their mood was serious now.

Gareth pointed to the Highlands, ‘behind us our people wait. They are preparing for war. They will not be caught defenceless. That’s why we have left a string of signal fires behind us, even if none of us makes it to the first signal fire it won’t matter. As you know, they are manned, at the first sign of an enemy host the fires will be lit and the people will be ready. We’re here to find out what the hell’s going on and if possible get home to tell our people. To do that we will have to stay alive.’

He looked round the gathered men, ‘the way things are now I doubt if we will,’ there was a grumble of dissent from them. ‘We were called together by the great council of the Highland people, handpicked by our own Clans to undertake this task. Before we started this journey many of us were lifelong enemies. You all swore an oath to me, to follow, to keep your swords sheathed against one another and you have kept that oath. Thank you, but you have not kept your tongues sheathed, and they get sharper and sharper every day. How so many of you have kept your tempers only proves to me your worth. However there will come a day when an oath taken will not be enough and sooner or later someone will draw a blade, it may even be me for I am so sick of the bickering.’

He raised his voice so they knew his anger, ‘the people of the lowlands believe us to be animals. Their stories are full of the slaughter we brought on them in the time of the first Kings. They may just turn on us in fear that we are here to do them harm. We could walk into an ambush tomorrow and I don’t think I can trust the man next to me to turn his blades on the enemy. As the days have passed we have began to watch our own backs from each other. This cannot be, down there, there is magic than can turn brother on brother, Mother on daughter, Father on son. In its face we shall be as defenceless as newborn babes to a wolf. There is only one defence against magic of that kind, love and I don’t mean the kissing kind.’

There was a nervous burst of laughter but Gareth didn’t smile, ‘the kind of love one holds for a friend, a true friend. The kind of love born of the respect one warrior has for another. Love of his own people and own kind before all others. We arrived here as enemy’s, for the most, but tomorrow we must all leave as friends. Down there we will have no others to turn to. Every man’s hand may well be against us. I want you to take one more oath. Not to me but to each other, one of friendship, a promise to stand by each and everyman here. To stand by his side and protect him against all enemies, to watch his back as he will watch yours.’

He gestured to them, ‘come, turn to the man you hate the most and offer your hand and take the oath of friendship. Till death takes me or until we return home. Come, who will offer me his hand first. I've heard all the insults you can offer and to tell true they are getting old.’

To his surprise Graun jumped up on the rock beside him and offered his hand, ‘till death or we return home.’

Gareth took it slowly, ‘till death or we return home.’

They jumped down; slowly the men moved around shaking each other’s hands. A few others and all from Graun’s Clan offered their hand to Gareth.

‘I had no idea you all felt so badly towards me,’ he confessed to Graun back at the fire later.

‘What did you expect man. Twice you bested us in battle.’

‘They were hardy battles Graun.’

‘Of course, that's right; you bested us without even having to shed blood. You even let us leave the field of battle with our weapons. It was as though they meant nothing to you. Even with our weapons we were useless against you. It would have been kinder to strip us naked and beat us bloody with the flats of your swords before sending us home to our wives. At least then we would have had something to show for our humiliation.’

‘I had no idea you all felt like that.’

‘No, I came to realise that. You thought you were being merciful to a helpless foe. I suppose you were. It didn’t help though. Our shame, my shame, it’s why I hate you with every fiber of my being.’

‘Yet you were the first to stand up for me. You take my command without complaint.’

Graun scowled, ‘now you know why, don’t you?’

Gareth smiled bitterly, ‘what better way to beat your enemy than to know him.’

‘That's right lad.’

Gareth suddenly grinned, ‘are you learning Graun?’

Graun thought the question over carefully, ‘I’ve been struggling to find out what’s so different about you, until today, you have shown no difference to any other man, commander or leader I’ve ever known. To be honest I thought you were failing, until now.’ He looked round, ‘I thought they would have killed each other by now and surprised you were able to hold them together to this point. Now I see the worst of enemy’s drinking from the same cups, laughing at each other like long lost brothers and still I wonder how you did it.’

‘Not all look,’ Gareth nodded his head towards a lone individual, whom sat at his own fire.

‘Ah,’ Graun nodded in agreement, ‘The Crow Man. A loner that one; keeps his own council and his own company. Didn’t see him shake anyone’s hand either or anyone offer theirs to his.’

‘Let’s see what he’s about then,’ he raised his voice, ‘hey Crow Man, would you like to sup with us.’

The dark man raised an eyebrow, ‘what you got?’

‘A couple of Grouse.’

‘Swap you half a Hare for half a Grouse.’

‘Done.’

The Crow Man walked casually over and placed his half-cooked Hare over the fire on a make shift spit. ‘How do you like your Hare?’

‘Well cooked.’ Gareth answered.

The Crow Man regarded them both from beneath darkened brows, ‘that's how I like my Grouse. So what do you really want?’

‘Not sure yet.’ Gareth shrugged.

‘Trying to figure me out, ok I’ll make it easy for you. I keep my own company because that's how I like it. I shook no man’s hand because there's no one here I hate that much.’

‘Is there anyone you hate that much?’ Gareth asked.

The dark headed man shook his head, ‘No. I can no more be bothered with enemies that I can with friends.’

‘Yet you are a celebrated warrior.’ Gareth probed.

The man spat into the fire missing the cooking meat, ‘I don’t celebrate anything. I don’t care about being a great warrior. If someone chooses to challenge me I’ll kill them, I’ll not lay down and die for some young idiot looking for a reputation. Nor have I ever wished for one. I will do my share of the work and my share of the killing when it needs to be done. I gave my oath at the beginning of this journey and it should be enough. Oh and my names Billy not the Crow Man.’

Gareth laughed, ‘It’s nice to finally meet you Billy and I can assure you, your word is enough.’

The following day brought the return of the rain. With an ancient map in hand supplied by the council Gareth led them down through the foothills. They began to come across the first signs of civilisation, villages that had been burned to the ground. They stopped at the first for a moment but there was nothing really to see. They passed half a dozen others before they finally came across a village of any size. It too had been raised to the ground.

Billy checked the well, ‘ach,’ he cried out in disgust, ‘this wells been poisoned, something or someone’s been shoved down there.’

‘See if you can fish it out.’ Gareth asked.

‘You serious, we won’t be able to drink the water.’

‘Aye I'm serious, Billy and I'm not interested in drinking the water.’

Billy grunted in disgust, ‘I’ll try and find a hook then.’

‘Get some help too.’ Gareth advised.

‘You think something’s wrong.’ Graun stated.

‘Aye.’

Graun jerked a thumb, ‘there's a pile of ash round the back of the houses over there, by the looks of it someone came by and burned the bodies.’

Gareth was frowning heavily, ‘we haven’t seen a single living soul since we got here, no animals nothing.’

Graun shrugged, ‘so what are you going to prove by digging a body out of that Well?’

‘How many raids you been on in your life Graun?’

He shrugged again, ‘too many.’

Gareth nodded, ‘so tell me what’s wrong here?’

It was Graun’s turn to frown, ‘come to think of it everything.’

Gareth smiled grimly, ‘aye, the bodies are all burned but who burned them?’

‘Their neighbours,’ Graun suggested.

‘What neighbours, they’re all dead too.’

‘Right, we don’t know that Gareth.’

However, Gareth did know, ‘I’d take a bet on it. It’s too clean.’

‘Don’t get yah.’ Graun wasn’t sure what Gareth was onto.

‘Look at this place; you’d think an old woman with a broom had been down here, there's no life, no sign of a single survivor, who would do this, what’s the point?’

Graun raised his arms half way then let them fall, ‘maybe the war has already reached here.’

Gareth shook his head, ‘see any sign of an army passing through?’

‘No. Right, I see where you’re coming from. An invading army wouldn’t have cleaned up so well, no bodies, no limbs, not even a finger. No camp no trail, but there must be something, no ones that good, I’ll take a few Scouts and look around.’

‘Thanks.’

A bit of rummaging soon found an old grapple and some half-burned rope. With two men helping Billy soon managed to snag something down the well. They curled a piece of tartan round their faces to help against the smell.

‘Gareth,’ Billy shouted.

Gareth ran over guarding his mouth and nose too, ‘good God!’

‘I think it was a child, girl maybe,’ Billy turned her over, ‘oh would you look at this.’ One of the men turned and threw up. Billy pulled a black arrow from her chest, it made a disgusting sucking sound and a fresh wave of corruption washed over the men.

Gareth was gagging but took the offered arrow and walked away from the stench. Billy followed. ‘Get one of your boys to find something to cover the poor wretch will you.’

Billy shouted the order and the one who had been sick happily jogged off to find something. Gareth washed off some lumps of decaying flesh from the arrow. ‘Ever seen anything like this before Billy?’

‘A black arrow, it’s even got black fletching, no can’t say I have.’

Graun returned taking a quick look at the body on his way past. ‘Nasty,’ he greeted the two men. ‘There's sign of horses, weeks old, too old to count numbers, they came in from the north, left heading south. What you got there?’

‘Take a look, what do you think?’

Graun studied it for a moment, ‘the plot thickens.’

‘Doesn’t it just,’ Gareth agreed.

Billy looked from one man to the other, ‘ok, just what am I missing here?’

Gareth took the black arrow back and handed it to Billy, ‘when our people were enslaved and we were forced to fight for The Great Sea King, he made our warriors wear black; even the arrows our archers used were black. It seemingly installed fear into our enemy’s.’

‘So, you’re saying we did this, what?’

‘I don’t quite know yet. I want to take a closer look at those ashes.’

The men followed him to the ash pile. He used the tip of the arrow to sift through it. He collected a pile of teeth.

‘What are you thinking?’ Graun asked.

‘I'm thinking the whole village was massacred, there are enough teeth here from all ages and sexes. Small from children, babies even, these must have came from a man and I’d say these were from a young woman and there's more, many more.’ He stood, ‘there's two possibilities, one answer. Either the Sea Kings troops have already struck here and moved on or someone’s trying to make it look like it was us who did this.’

‘You mean Highlanders,’ Graun asked.

‘Aye,’

Graun was getting angry, ‘we haven’t used black arrows since the great wars, they are banned, no man would dare make black fletching, it has to be the Sea Kings men.’

‘No, we know we don’t use Black arrows any more, but who else knows that Graun. The horses come in from the north and head out south. Why? An invading army wouldn’t have taken the trouble to swing round behind the village or bury the dead. Most would have taken slaves. However legends say that when the Great King used our men to attack a village, everyone in the village would be slaughtered, man, women, child. Even their livestock would either been killed or driven off to feed his army’s. We were a weapon of terror, and I think this is what this is, stories, old stories brought back to life to try and install terror into the population. Black arrows, whole villages wiped out then the whole place cleaned up to stop people looking to close.’

‘Aye but the girl in the well?’ Graun challenged.

‘One damning piece of evidence somewhere where she was bound to be found and safe from predators.’

Gareth saw the realisation dawn on Graun’s face, ‘of course, the first place anyone on a journey will go to. Damn it!’ Graun ran a dirty hand through his straggly hair.

Gareth made a decision, ‘from now on we travel only at night. Let’s get away from here.’

The men were gathered and they moved off to a safe distance and holed up for the rest of the day. No one slept and sentries were posted. That night when the second moon rose above the horizon they moved out. Gareth led them at a run. He found the lower they got the higher his stamina rose. He wasn’t the only one to notice the difference. Soon they were running all night long and within a few days reached the great plain.

‘It’s going to be harder to hide on this,’ he confided to Graun when they reached it.

‘Hunting for food and finding water isn’t going to be easy either, especially moving at night.’

‘Aye, we need to stop for a couple of days. Hunt, smoke meat. Its three hundred miles to the great City of Clover. The way we’re covering ground we should do it easily within the week. So if we have a week’s worth of provisions we should be all right.’

‘Providing we don’t get lost and every man will have to carry seven days meat, that's a lot of weight Gareth. That will slow us down.’

Gareth pointed to where young Alan had hoisted up a large log, ‘do you see that? A few weeks ago he couldn’t have hoisted a log half that size. We’ve been running all day too, don’t you feel it?’

Graun scratched his dark beard, ‘I have to admit I do feel stronger; been feeling that way for days now.’

Gareth grinned, ‘I think we all have. I don’t think the extra load will matter all that much.’

Graun returned his smile, ‘ok but we’re still going to have a bit of a problem finding water at night.’

Gareth looked upwards, ‘I'm sure we’re coming into the three moon nights, which will help.’

‘They’re due right enough.’ Graun agreed. ‘Ok, if that's what you want I’ll go with it. I suggest we move in extended line though. That way there will be less chance of missing any water if we do come across it.’

‘That’s a good idea Graun. We’ll do that. Let’s tell them what’s happening and send out the bow men.’

They soon had a camp up and the men settled in, but not for long. A bowman returned excitedly. They had found a heard of strange animals and had brought down enough in a few moments to supply them with fresh meat for the entire journey. Gareth and Graun followed as excited as the rest. They soon found the bowmen. A great herd of the strange animals moved slowly away from the fresh kills. They were nervous but seemed to be having problems focusing their eyes on the strange men.

‘Ever seen anything like them before Gareth?’

‘No Graun, never even heard of anything like them before either.’

‘Look how high up on their heads their eyes are, it’s almost as though they’re looking up at the sky not their feet.’

‘You’re right, and I think that's exactly where their eyes are looking. Look at those on the edge of the heard who are grazing’

‘You thinking what I'm thinking Gareth?’

‘Eagles.’

‘Aye,’ Graun’s eyes immediately looked upwards. They had all heard of the legends, giant Eagles ridden by men. Captured and tamed over thousands of years. Now weapons of war, however if this was their natural habitat, it would seem feasible that their natural prey would have developed some form of protection. Gareth knelt beside the large bovine type animal. Its huge hump was made up of protecting layers of fat and its horns faced backwards not forwards.

‘Make sure all the sentry’s have spears today and keep a watch upwards as well as around. Fetch everyman. Let’s get this meat cut and dried as quickly as possible.’

Gareth kept them up at night and let them sleep during the day. It was strange but the men soon got used to it. Smokey fires cured the meat at nights and the sun dried it during the day. A good lookout was kept at all times. On the third morning Gareth was about to turn in, morning dew had crept upon the land in the hours before dawn. A strange scent reached Gareth’s nose, suddenly the hairs swept up on the back of his neck.

He snapped to his feet drawing his sword and thrust out at the air before him, there was a yelp and a speck of blood appeared on the tip of his sword, ‘reveal yourself,’ he growled ready to swing the sword again.

Graun jumped to his feet drawing his dirk, ‘what’s going on?’

‘We have company.’

‘Where?’

‘Right there.’ He stabbed again.

There was another yelp, then a man’s voice, ‘ok, ok’

A man suddenly appeared before them, ‘don’t stab me again that hurt that did. How did you see me?’

Gareth pointed, ‘your footprints on the dew’

‘Oh, shit, I never noticed that. Don’t worry I'm unarmed, I was just making sure you weren’t Highlanders before I revealed myself.’

Gareth raised an eyebrow at Graun who was still staring open mouthed at the new comer. The man was as tall as he but very thin. Graun estimated the man to be near his fifty’s. He found his voice, ‘where the hell did you come from?’

‘Me,’ the man seemed surprised at the question.

Graun was close to losing his temper, ‘see anyone else here?’

The man thought it wise not to point out the obvious, ‘I'm sorry it’s just a simple cloak of invisibility. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t Highlanders before I revealed myself; I'm not armed or dangerous. I only got it to try and catch my wife cheating on me with the baker’s son. Cost me a fortune it did. Still!’ he sighed and sat down on a small mound, ‘I shouldn’t complain; it saved my life it did. There I was sneaking up on the baker’s son’s house when they arrived. Like ghosts they were. Even their pony’s made little noise. Of course their pony’s hooves were bound, but I didn’t know that then. Killed everyone they did, even the babies. Didn’t even talk to one another while they were doing it, didn’t even bother raping the women, just killed them, burned the place to the ground and moved on, animals.’ He sniffed loudly, ‘I'm the village tailor, or was should I say.’ He looked up at the two men, ‘so where are you lot from, did the Great King send you? Hardy looking bunch I must say but much good you’ll do on foot against those bastards with their pony’s and black Eagles.’

Gareth sheathed his sword and sat, ‘we’re Highlanders.’

The man froze for a second then laughed, ‘you jest of course, where are your black clothes, eh? What is that garment your wearing anyway, what’s it made of?’ He cast a professional eye over it, ‘is that some form of wool? It’s a tight weave; I’ll say that for it, what strange colours.’

‘Are you bleeding badly?’ Gareth asked handing him a soft piece of cloth.

‘No just a scratch, but thank you,’ he took the offered cloth and pressed it against the wound.

‘Did you catch them?’ Graun asked.

‘What, who?’

‘Your wife and the baker’s son.’

‘Oh them, I suppose so. Never actually saw them at it of course but their bodies lay side by side on the pyre they built, naked they were. So I suppose they were together. So where are you from?’

‘We told you,’ Graun growled, ‘we’re Highlanders from the Highlands.’

‘That's not funny you know and the jokes getting old.’

Graun pointed to the watching men, ‘see anyone laughing here Tailor?’

It slowly began to dawn on the man they weren’t joking and fear leapt into his eyes, ‘you can’t be, you don’t look like Highlanders, don’t dress like them.’

‘What do Highlanders look like then?’ Gareth asked.

The man swallowed hard, he had gone very pale. ‘Well you know, tall slim and dressed in black leather. Black horses, you know?’

‘Black arrows like these?’ Gareth asked holding up the black feathered arrow they had taken from the corpse of the young girl. The man had trouble swallowing and only managed to nod. ‘We got this off the body of a young girl we fished out of a Well at a village up yonder.’

‘Was ah, she ah,’ he coughed and swallowed, ‘blond?’

‘I think so.’

‘Amy, that was, Amy the wine merchants daughter, they shot her dead and tossed her into the Well, they ah, you.’

‘It wasn’t us I can assure you of that, or any other Highlander, there's no village of ours within two hundred miles of here, neither do we have Horses, Pony’s or Eagles.’

‘You don’t?’

Gareth shook his head, ‘None of us do. There are a few ponies yes but they are used for ploughing and carrying goods not men, too small. Horses don’t live very long for some reason and I’ve never seen an Eagle as large as the ones you’re talking about. ‘He held up the black arrow,’ black arrows have been banned in the Highlands for over five hundred years, on pain of banishment. Neither do we wear leather especially black leather, not if you want to keep your head on your shoulders. This is our native dress; it’s called a kilt. They are woven from the wool of mountain sheep. Dyed and turned into our family tartans. I'm an Ogilvie, this is Graun, he’s a Grant. I don’t know who attacked your village tailor, but I can assure you they weren’t Highlanders. We’re the first to have set foot in the lowlands for over five hundred years, sent by the great council to find out what the hell’s going on. For the last year we have barely had any traders visit us and the last one who did a seller of poor cloth told us The Great Sea King was getting ready to invade again. So the council put forward this expedition. They want to know why we weren’t sent for. If the Sea Kings coming then we’re as much at risk as the people of Clover.’

‘Clover, The Great Sea King, they haven’t been called that in, oh so long, my goodness you must be Highlanders, I heard the traders talk, they thought your ignorance funny,’ his face fell, ‘sorry.’ He looked from man to man, ‘so who attacked us?’

Graun growled, ‘we just got here, how the hell would we know.’

‘You hungry?’ Gareth asked.

‘Famished, I almost starved to death? I’ve been living on roots and berries.’

‘Why?’ Graun asked, ‘there's meat aplenty here about and the game is easy to kill.’

‘Oh, I'm a tailor, not a hunter, I can’t shoot a bow.’

‘Maybe time you learned Mr. Tailor.’ Graun growled in not so friendly a manner.

The tailor eyed him fearfully for a moment, ‘yes maybe I should, but we had our own livestock, no need to hunt any more. No one hunts, not for meat anyway, some for sport.’

The Highlanders didn’t understand the concept, a man hunted for meat and nothing more. The two men grilled the lowlander for information, half of which they couldn’t understand. Eventually they turned in for the day.

At the rising of the second moon they began their march. ‘Why are you going this way?’ asked the Tailor. There's a perfectly good road just over there a ways.’

‘So you told me this morning. You also told me this way was more direct.’ Gareth answered.

‘Yes but, there's inns, villages, water springs, a whole network set up to serve the traveler.’

‘There's also a large group of heavily armed men on Eagles and horses pretending to be Highlanders wandering about murdering people. What reception will we get from those villagers when they realise who we are?’

The man looked crestfallen, ‘I didn’t think.’

‘No I don’t suppose you did. If I were you I’d take that pony of yours and go warn the people on the road, tell them the truth.’

‘I would rather go with you.’

‘We've barely travelled two miles and your pony is already starting to blow. You have meat and water for seven days. Follow the road from a distance, get to where people are and move only at night until you are sure you are safe. Warn them.’

The tailor reined in his pony, ‘your right, I’ll only slow you down. I’ll do that and thank you.’

‘Tell the people the truth that will be thanks enough.’

‘I will.’

CHAPTER 2

The Captain broke into a cold sweat as the handsome Generals eyes bored into him; they were as black as night and cold.

‘You’re sure Captain Sceen.’

‘Yes Sir,’

‘Highlanders, here, at the Castle gates!’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know Sir.’

‘Has anyone tried to arrest them yet?’

‘The guard did Sir.’

‘Are they now safely under lock and key?’ He raised an eyebrow dangerously.

The Captain could feel the sweat pour down his back, ‘no Sir they beat the guard up.’

‘I see, and now...?’

‘Bit of a standoff Sir, I was sent with a message.’

‘Which is?’

‘Get someone in authority down here now or we’re going to rip this place a new arsehole.’

The General roared with laughter, ‘I like it, I will have to remember that one, now get back down there and kill all of them.’

Just then the King burst in, ‘General Stoat.’ The General jumped to his feet, ‘have you heard, they’re here, the Highlanders, at last.’

‘Your Majesty, these men are dangerous, they should be arrested and executed immediately.’

‘Don’t be a bloody fool Stoat, we need them.’

‘They have been raiding the borderlands for a year Majesty.’

‘These aren’t those men Stoat, I sent a man of my own on the road and I received word a day ago by fast rider.’

‘I wasn’t aware your Majesty.’

‘You work for me Stoat; I don’t work for you remember that. Now have them brought in and housed. There are only a hundred and twenty of them hopefully they are the vanguard of the whole army. I will see their leader presently.’

Stoat bowed low, ‘of course your Majesty.’ The King left.

The General turned his wrath on his luckless Captain, ‘see to it.’

‘Where will I put them Sir all the barracks are full.’

‘With the rest of the animals of course.’

‘The horses?’

‘Don’t frighten the horse’s man.’

‘Oh you mean up Sir, with those animals.’

‘Yes, see to it.’

They were led up through the Castle to the very back and then they had to ascend a very steep and winding staircase to the very top of the Castle.

‘Quite a climb isn’t it,’ puffed the Captain.

‘No.’ Gareth answered bluntly.

‘Oh, well it’s the only place in the Castle that still has enough room for all of you. Anyway it’s dry and warm.’

They finally reached the top. It opened up into a wide veranda with a long building that leaned precariously over the edge of the cliff. Gareth realised it was built on the edge of the mountain and the walls here weren’t actually that high. Still it was impressive, the whole place was. They built with stones in the Highlands but nothing like this grand Castle.

‘Funny place to keep horses,’ grunted the Beast.

‘This way please,’ he stepped aside and they filed in.

‘I don’t like his smirk.’ The Beast growled.

It was dark inside, something stirred in the darkened stalls. More than one man clutched the pommel of a dirk or sword. The inside wall was filled with straw and young Alan tossed himself down onto it, ‘oh man this is great.’

‘What the hell is going on,’ shouted a high-pitched voice, ‘what are these animals doing here, get them out.’ The young tall man made the mistake of grabbing Gareth who punched him clear across the stable. The man grabbed for his sword but Gareth’s slid clear from its scabbard first and pricked the man’s throat. Don’t do it laddie or you will die.’

‘No, you’re the one who’s going to die,’ he sneered, ‘Birnie kill him.’

Gareth detected movement from the stable above the young man and just managed deflect a blow with his shield, he dropped to a knee and added weight of his sword, the man squealed. ‘One move and he’s dead’. He warned his attacker peering over the edge of his Targe. His assailant moved slowly back into the light. Steel hissed from scabbards and men cried out in fear as they got a look at his assailant.

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Gareth, ‘would you lookie here Graun, have you ever seen anything so damn pretty. Isn’t she a beauty?’

The words seemed to choke in Graun throat as at each stable a giant head appeared, ’how do you know it’s female?’

’Something that beautiful could only be female.’

‘I’ll take your word for it Gareth.’

Gareth could feel his heart constrict as he gazed upon the giant Eagle in the stable before him. The Eagle fluffed her feathers and stretched her neck out towards him. Gareth had to fight the urge to drop his shield and reach out. Their eyes met and locked. It seemed an age before the spell was broken.

‘What the hell’s going on here cracked a voice of authority. Captain Sceen isn’t it?’

‘Yes Sir.’ The Captain snapped to attention. ‘I’ve been ordered by the General to billet these men here.’

‘Really and what does the good General have against them?’

‘The uh, men or the birds Sir?’

‘Good question Captain but I was referring to the men. Only their riders and experienced stable hands are allowed in here. You know they have a habit of nipping stranger’s heads off.’

‘Generals orders Sir.’

‘When the Eagles are at roost Captain they require peace and quiet, or they can become unmanageable.’ His eyes cast down, ‘and what are you doing down there Lt.Brokes?’ The man could only manage a strangulated squawk. ‘For God’s sake let him up will you?’

Gareth took a step back, ‘my pleasure.’

‘Sheath your weapons all of you’

Gareth obeyed and his men followed suit. There was a lot of rustling of feathers and the odd shrill call but the Eagle’s retreated back into their stalls. Gareth slid his Targe back onto his shoulder.

‘I’m sorry gentlemen, but you can’t stay here.’

Lt Brokes had got to his feet, embarrassment and indignation flushed through him. He grabbed a long stick with a large bulbous head from a wall bracket and advanced on the Eagle in fury, ‘I ordered you to kill him, I ...’ his enraged cry was cut off as Gareth swept his legs from under him. As the man hit the floor Gareth jerked him upright by his hair, his dirk sweeping down sinking between the man’s collar bones, ‘you will not hurt her you bloody animal. He slowly began to sink his dirk into him. Brokes cried out in agony and so did the Eagle. Gareth froze, ‘what the!’

The colonel moved before Gareth, ‘she can feel everything he can, they are bonded and if you hurt him you hurt her.’

‘How is that possible?’

‘You really don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘They both wear a ring, one on his finger and one on her leg.’

Gareth spotted the golden ring and nodded, ‘I see it.’

‘She was given one when she was old enough to be ridden, it grows with her. Then she was paired with a young rider, ‘he gives her, her name and they are trained together.’

Gareth slid the blade free. Brooke cried out and so did the bird. Gareth dragged him by the hair to the door and tossed him out. He returned to stand before the Eagle whose head hung over the edge of the stall. ‘I'm sorry, please forgive me, I did not know. Would she have died if he had?’

‘No but she would have felt his every dying moment. It is unpleasant for them and some do die soon afterwards, it depends on how strong the bond was. How could you not know this, everyone knows it.’

‘My names Gareth Ogilvie, I’m from the Highlands, we all are. We don’t have Eagles, well not like these. Ours are so much smaller their wingspan only the length of a tall man, but they are beautiful too, and free. They hunt on the wing, soaring high above mortal man and dropping like a rock on their pray. We believe them to be kindred spirits.’

‘Your Highlanders, you came, thank God, are you the van guard?’

‘The what?’

‘The leading element of your army.’

‘No this is it.’

‘You jest.’

‘We’re here to find out what the hell is going on. For years we've been hearing of a buildup of forces of our old enemy, then nothing, for at least a year. Then a cloth merchant arrived in early spring with news that an army was gathering on your borders. The council decided to find out what was happening and sent us.’

‘You received no summons?’

‘Not a word.’

‘I can tell you now the King has sent many messengers to your people. Then the border raids began. We assumed that was a no.’

‘We've been waiting for your King’s summons and it isn’t us who have been raiding the border lands.’

‘You will have to excuse me, oh keep away from the Eagles, they will kill, they don’t like sharing their quarters.’

‘Have you ever asked them,’ Gareth turned to the bird which seemed to have recovered and been listening intently. ‘Birnie is it your name, I doubt that, far to plain, I would have called you soaring angel. ‘He got closer to the bird and lifted a hand, ‘may I touch your feathers they are so beautiful.’ Tension in the stable became palatable as he reached out halfway; all knew she could strike off his hand in an instant. The moment seemed to go on forever then the Eagle stretched out her neck towards the hand. Gareth savoured the moment, ‘I’ve never felt anything so soft.’ He took a deep breath, ‘thank you for that,’ then he smiled, ‘my friends and I have been travelling for many months. We have had no roof over our head in all that time, no soft straw to lie on only the hard ground. Would you let us share your warm quarters for a short time? I promise we will keep the noise down and try not to disturb you too much.’

The Eagle let out a soft cry that was taken up by the others. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen or heard it myself,’ the colonel almost whispered. ‘Those little cry’s more or less means yes. Well if it’s ok with them, then it’s ok with me. Be careful, now I must leave, but I will return soon.’

‘Looks like you finally got yourself a bird Gareth,’ Graun grinned, ‘long legs, large breast, pity about the tail though.’ The men laughed quietly.

‘She is beautiful though.’

‘Aye, I’ll give you that. My great grandfather once told me of an old legend. He said when the three moons align in the night sky twice a year the Eagles can turn themselves into human form; and if you mate with one then your children will become Eagles too, with the power to transform themselves at will.’

Gareth was grinning, ‘could you imagine that Graun, your children being able to soar amongst the clouds, that would be a great thing.’

‘It’s supposed to put you off man,’ he laughed, ‘saying that though it is a thought.’

‘Nah.’ Billy interrupted their musing, ‘how would you ever catch the wee buggers to clap their lugs.’ Men fell into the straw clutching their sides and by the rustling of feathers even the Eagles seemed to find it amusing.

‘It’s just a legend,’ it was a young lad, ‘I'm David a groom as my Father was and his and his before, it’s just a legend. Never ever heard of it happening. Never, there's lots of magic in the world. Heard of people being turned into animals and stuff, but never an animal into a man.’

‘Well David the Groom, could you show a man where he could bathe and wash his travel stained clothes.’

‘Aye master I could.’

‘I'm no one’s master lad, my names Gareth.’

The lad grinned, ‘if you come with me master Gareth, I’ll show you.’

CHAPTER 3

The groom took them to a washhouse where they scrubbed themselves down with fine sand then washed in cold water. Gareth had shaved clean, the mark of a single man. He had also washed his clothes as best he could, thrashing month’s worth of sweat and dirt out of his kilt against the sides of a stone cistern. Someone hung a rope on the battlements and kilts and shirts flapped in the strong wind while the men lounged about in their spare shirts. When the summons to see the King came his kilt was almost dry and he felt half-respectable. The colonel showed him and Graun down to the audience chamber. When a guard tried to relieve them of their weapons, Graun knocked him cold and Gareth knocked out a second.

‘What the hell’s going on out there,’ roared the King. He sat down quickly as Gareth and Graun burst through the door.

Gareth stopped in front of him, ‘are you the Clover King?’

‘I suppose I am.’

Gareth thrust out a hand, ‘Gareth Ogilvie, how the hell you doing man?’

The King grinned, got to his feet and thrust out a hand, ‘Leopold the third, my family call me Leo, everyone else calls me Sire or your Majesty.’

‘Really, I have a nick name too; my friends call me the Barf or the Barfman.’

The King opened his mouth to reply then thought better of it. He was interrupted by General Stoat, ’it’s customary for a man to kneel before his King barbarian.’

Gareth felt his hackles rise at the sight of the handsome General, ‘I have no King and kneel before no man. The Highland people gave an oath to help the people of this Kingdom if our mutual enemy ever raised his head again. As we were not summoned I was sent to offer help if needed, if not I will immediately turn round and go home.’

The king cleared his throat, ‘I sent a summons over a year ago Gareth the Highlander and many since.’

Gareth turned back to him, ‘we have thirty thousand men in arms ready to move at a moment’s notice.’

‘How long until they get here?’

‘If I send someone now, about four months.’

The Kings head dropped, ‘no good, the battle will be won or lost within a month. You would be better going home with your men and waiting there. If it goes badly for us that is where you will be needed.’

Gareth shook his head, ‘no, we will stay; my men are all seasoned warriors, you can use us.’

‘Seasoned warriors you say, can you count Highlander?’ the General stepped forward.

‘Aye and read if it’s any business of yours.’

He smiled evilly, ‘I'm the Kings commanding General, and it certainly is my business. Let me tell you something my stout Highland fellow, there will be hundreds of thousands of men in the field. Do you really think your small group will make any difference?’

‘A battle, a war can be won by a single man, if he’s in the right place at the right time.’

The King smiled, ‘well said, you have spirit, maybe we can use you. Give them a place in the battle line General Stoat.’

‘We always need bodies to dig latrines,’ he grinned evilly.

Gareth took two steps and took the General by the throat, ‘every instinct in my body tells me to rip your throat out right here and now, I'm sure it will save me the bother of killing you later. Just say the word Mr. King.’

‘Let him go, now.’

‘Fair enough,’ Gareth cast him aside like a rag doll then produced the black arrow. ‘We found this in the body of a young girl in a well of a village we passed through on the way. Black arrows are banned in the Highlands, have been since the last great war. Bands of men dressed in black and on horseback have been roaming the borderlands claiming to be Highlanders. They have Eagles too I hear. Well we have neither horse nor Eagle in the Highlands and no one wears black either. No messenger ever sent to the council reached us. I’ve only been here half a day and it’s already bloody obvious to me that someone’s been trying very hard to keep us at home and out of this fight. If I was you Mr. King I would clean house before you go into battle, or you may find you have lost the war before the battle has even began.’ He scowled at the General who had scrambled to his feet with hand on the hilt of his sword, ‘and I know where I’d start. If you want to draw that sword Mr. General I will be at your disposal.’

The General jerked his hand from the pommel as though it had suddenly turned red hot, he turned his attention back to the King, ‘my men and I will be at your disposal Mr. King.’

‘I will send orders within a few days, you are dismissed.’

Gareth gave him a nod, then with a flourish turned and left the chamber. Graun hesitated for a moment, he fixed the King with a grin, ‘he is an Ogilvie, I am a Grant, we are enemy’s of the blood, I am my own Clans War Chieftain and fifteen years his senior, yet he has defeated me in battle twice. Twice without having to even draw blood; he has a rare talent for reading his enemy’s Mr. King, an instinct a man can only be born with,’ he grinned at the General while still talking to the King, ‘I would follow the man into hell and back if he asked. If I was you I would pay heed to his words.’ He gave the King a friendly nod and followed Gareth.

The General immediately swung on the King, ‘are you going to let him get away with that Sire, I will fetch the Royal Guard.’

‘No you won’t,’ snapped the King.

‘Sire,’ he protested.

‘Do you think me a fool Stoat? Since they arrived they have suffered nothing but insults at your hand. You had them housed with the most dangerous animals we have and what were they offered for a meal, slop’s from the barracks kitchens.’

‘Good enough for those animals,’ Stoat growled.

‘I wonder General at your motives for antagonising these men; your methods seem extreme even for you.’

‘I have no motives Sire other than to serve you and we don’t need any more animals in this army.’

The King studied his General for a moment. ‘Colonel Millar.’

The colonel of the Kings Eagle’s stepped forward, ‘Sire.’

‘From now on the Highlanders will be your responsibility. You will make sure they are looked after properly. If anyone else, anyone, tries to interfere with them, or anger them in anyway, you have my authority to hang them from the nearest gibbet, regardless of rank or stature.’ The King made sure he was looking at the General when he said it.

‘Sire,’ Millar snapped to attention.

‘Go see to your charges, and try and teach them some protocols will you.’

‘Sire.’

Gareth was sitting staring into Birnie’s stable, even though he couldn’t see the bird he knew she was looking back. Graun came in and sat down beside him, ‘well! That could have gone better.’

‘Aye,’ Gareth sighed, ‘I have every man on notice to move quickly.’

‘Wise.’

‘Aye.’

‘Ye didn’t seem to take to thon General Stoat.’

‘I should have killed him.’

‘Then none of us would probably have left this place alive.’

‘We may still not; you hung around for a bit.’

‘Aye, had a wee word in the Kings ear. It’s no often a man gets a chance to talk to a real King.’

Gareth suddenly found himself grinning, ‘aye we did, didn’t we. Seemed a nice enough fellow though.’

Graun laughed, ‘aye had a commanding presence about him didn’t you think.’

‘Well he is a King, that’s like every man in the grand council put into one man.’

Graun punched him on the shoulder, ‘that has to be wrong.’

‘One man with all that power you mean.’

‘Aye.’

Gareth nodded, ‘aye, it’s obscene. Could you imagine someone trying that at home?’

‘He’d have to be a bonny fighter.’

‘Good fighter or no, a flight of arrows would soon bring him down.’

‘Or a Dirk in the back, no your right Gareth, we just wouldn’t stand for it.’

A steady thump thump thump, from the back of the stables was beginning