Highlander's Claim to Love

Chapter One

Scotland 1314

The Red Lion on the yellow banners of Robert the Bruce seemed to proudly wave from high above the towers of McLeod's Castle. It was just seven days after the battle of Bannockburn. Dark clouds had risen in the sky dancing above the people who were rushing to get into the great hall. The celebration was about to begin.

The smell of stew cooking and spilt wine filled the atmosphere and sounds of bagpipes and fiddles seemed to welcome the guest who wanted to visit the castle. All men were celebrating the great victory; the Scottish had finally defeated the English.

For the closest team of solicitors and warriors of Robert the Bruce that night's celebration would last shortly. They knew their King. He would want new wars and new conquers soon. But for the time being, they were coming to celebrate and remember the benefits of peace. Everybody wanted to feel a simple, carefree man just for that night.

All but one. When Iain Domnail of the Cobalt Isle and his men entered the great hall the music faded just a bit. He waved to the king and sat. He seemed eager for that night to end and go back to his usual ways. As the fifth son of a Scottish Laird he expected nor title nor property. But his involvement in this war held its own rewards. He expected lands and more men. What was about to come would shock him.

The great hall was a long rectangular room and it was dressed for the occasion. At the very end a guest could see the big table with all the noble men, Robert the Bruce at the very center. Above him his banners hang on the wall while the rest of them supported beautiful tapestries presenting images of hunting, and stories of Scottish tales probably woven by maidens of the castle with mastery and patience as part of their dowry.

The royal table was lifted a bit like it was up on a wooden platform. All the rest of the tables were placed vertically to the main table while a big space was left between them working as a stage for those who wanted to dance. The place was filled with enthusiasm and vigor as the best warriors of the king would finally meet.

As the day progressed, Iain was able to observe and see after a long time women and men together dancing and enjoying themselves. He attracted many maidens as his reputation in weapons and bed had preceded him. He smiled cynically at them. That night all he wanted was to see what the future held for him.

When Malcolm Brenan, one of his best friend and co-general in this war entered the great hall, Iain felt relieved. He would finally have someone to talk to and understand him. He felt tired of the war, yet his blood called for fight. Malcolm stood aside with his wavy blond hair and piercing gray eyes. He looked like an angel. The angel of death in this occasion as his skills had left many widowers and orphans.

"Malcolm! Here, me friend! I so longed to hear ye and speak of yer news. Last time we met was in Aberdeen two moons before. How is this instance of peace to yer likin'?"

Malcolm took his seat next to Iain and looked at him smiling.

"You ken as well as I dae me friend. This is just a breath to what is expectin' us next. I heard rumors that our King will sail soon for Ireland. I hope blessed may he be to take us with him. We share the same lot ye and I. No title, no land back home."

Iain took a sip of his wine before he spoke again.

"And what will happen to the lands and castles here? The English will soon riot if we daenae keep our place. It is too soon to move ahead."

"Aye. I agree. But Robert is smart. He will ken what to dae."

A young girl no more than eight and ten springs came between the two warriors with a tray full of meat. Her hair was red and wavy reaching all the way to her back, while her young round bosom invited any healthy man making his blood boil. She looked intensely at Malcolm with her smile reaching her almond shaped green eyes and made her way through the tables.