To the Story Teller the Gift of Four

Like baying wolfs eager to be let loose at the prey the Campbell's strained to hold the charge ......... They have taken the Kings penny but would gladly have forsaken it, for just across the brae lye the McDonald's ..... lang and sleeket  would gladly be put to the Campbell sword penny ur no penny. My heart is fit to burst my mind a cauldron of emotions I look at the English musket in my shaking hand for here  I stand in the ranks of the Duke of Cumberland .... the cannons spit their grape shot across the field their victims screams and wails can only be heard for the smoke is thick and stings the eyes , and still we wait no command to join the slaughter. The game is afoot tis the Cameron's o Loch Eil beside them the McDonnell's o Glen Garry their bloody war cry near drowned  as a battery of cannon open on them as they charge across the bog toward us ...... Clansmen one and all fall to the merciless shot which decimates the first three ranks burning and tearing the very skin from there bones young and old fall ...... those behind slowed as the bog is soft after the morns rain the mud near at their knees they stagger on , and the command is given the cannon fall silent we charge. my aim is good the first one falls to my musket at fifty paces . The powder flask is knocked from my grasp as the Campbells charge through our ranks keen to be about their  bloody business ..... The musket now useless I charge with sword in hand I slash and thrust at my fellow Scots but on this day my sworn enemy. The next to yield their life to me but a laddie his eyes a mask of fear and terror as my blade spills his life blood,  his sash tells me he was a Mclean the tartan now crimson ..... Near half across bog and their ranks have broken the pipes fall silent  , A giant of a man already wounded his arm near hacked off  the other still holding his axe swings for my head I duck under the blow and thrust up under the rib cage and twist my dirk his body limp and heavy falls to the mud ..... I sight that no man should every see comes to my eye a Young Campbell is collecting the English bounty he is hacking the heads of the dead collecting them in a blood soak sack  to claim the Kings shilling ........ 

salar1 salar1
51-55, M
10 Responses Feb 11, 2009

And i will have a wee look at yours Iv ;o)

Iv , Ny thank you .....this is part four one two and three are in their aswell :o)

Very "Braveheart." Bravo.

Shhhh

The beginning of the highland clearances , oh my clan would have been doing the clearing ..... shhh dont tell anyone

Ah Salar...are you recalling some primal memories from a collective memory of your ancestors? great writing...it's a scene I wouldn't want to see...or remember.

I am disappointed i really thought this would be about food...

Thank you J2 ......<br />
<br />
one holiday coming up ...

maybe a wee holiday is required ???????

heavy stuff Salar1