The battle surged on for hours until, in the end, exhausted, and left with little, or in some instances, no ammunition, they withdrew. The choice was a hard one to make, but if they wanted to live, see another day, perhaps another bid for freedom, they had to withdraw. Their 300 compatriots lay dead or dying, their blood running through the streets of Dunkeld, and the Highlanders knew their fight was over, and they would pay for their insurrection. One thing was certain, King William would have them pay a high price, even if it took him years to collect.
On the 27th August 1691, King William, upon advice of council—though it has been claimed by some, grudgingly—offered the option of pardon to those who took part in the Jacobite rising. If the clan chiefs signed the oath by 1st of January 1692 and accepted him as their king, he would allow their oaths to be taken as a sign of their obedience. Should they decide not to sign, he promised reprisals upon Scotland like they had never seen before. The clan chiefs contacted James, who by now was in exile in France, to ask for his advice on the matter, and for him to offer his opinion on whether they should agree to William’s demand.
James took his time, and wavered from day to day, confident he would be able to reclaim his throne. He dallied in giving his decision to the clan chiefs, but it soon became evident there was no chance of him regaining the throne, and with reluctance, belatedly, he sent his answer, which was to order the chiefs to accept William’s proposals. Because of his hesitation, the letter of Order did not reach the chiefs until mid-December, but when it was received, they immediately acted upon James’s wishes and signed the Oath. All, that is, with the exception of MacIain, clan chief to the MacDonalds of Glencoe.
Alastair MacIain, the 12th Chief of Glencoe, put off taking the oath of allegiance to William of Orange, in the hope it would be withdrawn and a new arrangement would be set in order. This gave the perfect opportunity for six Fallen Angels to put a plan together, and remove The Veil from the clan’s protection. In the seventeenth century, with real devilish intent, they put their treacherous plot into place.
The six Fallen Angels who decided upon this course of action were King Balam, whose perfect answers on all subjects past, present, and future would undeniably be important when questioning the humans; King Amdusias, whom, with his thunderous voice, could cause a fight in an empty street; King Zagan, with the ability to change metal into gold and water into wine made an interesting member of the group, and one who could easily corrupt a greedy, manipulative human.
Duke Flauros had to speak the truth whenever he stood inside a magic triangle, but with his ability to set fire to any of The Conjurer’s enemies, he would be useful when ridding the earth of those humans the group found to be irritants. Duke Vual could arrange friendships, and Duke Dantalian, whose gift of knowing the thoughts of people, also had the ability to change them at his will, would be another key member of the group.
These six Fallen Angels took possession of pivotal members in the Campbell Clan. Although in possession of the human bodies, they were clearly identifiable. Dantalian cast demonic glimmer to hide their true selves, and they easily inserted themselves into the Clan.
The moment was perfect. The Highland Jacobites, having relinquished their support of James, now appeared to be acquiescent, sympathisers of William, but wars have a habit of leaving open wounds, and when not tended correctly, they fester. The poison will then spread directly to the heart.
*
The title of “The Butcher of Glencoe”, is bestowed upon Robert Campbell of Glenlyon, because of his infamy in the history of the Glencoe Massacre. Until that atrocious event, he was a man who had many inner demons. Diaries from that era write he was not an unpleasant man; in fact, it is believed in many circles that he was quite the opposite.
When he inherited Meggernie Castle, he was full of optimism and anticipated an exciting future in Glenlyon, and so he began ordering immediate improvements be arranged. He roofed the castle with slate instead of thatch, creating a home safer for the inhabitants, with less likelihood of it burning to the ground. He built an enormous extension and created a beautiful castle in the process. The dwellings of his people living on the land were repaired and upgraded, and he put in place new technology for the cultivation of his lands; this would make life easier for his workers and, in the end, make him more prosperous.
The cost of these renovations was excessive, so money began to dwindle. This, combined with Robert’s tendency towards heavy drinking, gambling, and bad investments, left him close to bankruptcy. His only recourse was to sell some of the Glenlyon estate to recoup funds. It is credit to the man himself that his own tenants offered their hard-earned coinage in an attempt to help him escape the financial stranglehold he found himself bogged down in, but he refused their aid.
He continued to sell more of the Glenlyon estate, but thankfully, was able to retain a house, previously belonging to his wife, which had been part of the small dowry he had been gifted upon their marriage. According to the rights of marriage, all of her property had been settled into his hands.
Several raids had been carried out on his property, and he became too weary, or perhaps too in his cups to care, the worry of the situation overtaking all reason at times. But when the battle fatigued and despondent Glengarrys, together with their cousins the MacIains, crossed his lands en route to the Highlands after the battle of Dunkeld, looting and stealing what little cattle remained, it was the final straw for Robert.
The two clans herded his animals to The MacIain’s property on Glencoe, and Robert reported the theft and looting to the Crown. He insisted that he should be reimbursed for his losses. Upon reporting the raid, he cited the Glengarrys as the sole perpetrators, omitting the information of the MacIains involvement. Even in his drunken state, he still had an obligation to them.
His niece, and sister to Rob Roy MacGregor, was married to Alexander MacDonald, the youngest son of The MacIain. The Campbells, the proclaimed law keepers of Scotland, had jailed Rob Roy’s father, Donald MacGregor, on charges of treason after the Battle of Killiecrankie. They held him in the most repugnant of conditions, while they tortured him to the point of death.
The relations between Robert and his sister’s family hung by a tenuous thread; he had seen her health rapidly decline in the two years her husband had been imprisoned in the notorious Tolbooth gaol, in Edinburgh. All the while, she was unable to visit her beloved husband because he was considered, by the Crown, to be a treasonous MacGregor outlaw and a Jacobite sympathiser.
Robert had stayed clear of giving any aid to his brother-in-law, believing he would die in prison. Rob Roy gained the Crown’s ear by using his mother’s name of Campbell, and came forward with the finances necessary to buy his father’s freedom. Money that was no doubt raised from the sale of many animals stolen from landowners throughout Scotland. While Donald awaited his release, his wife lost the will to live and died. He never laid eyes on her again, and it was clear, upon leaving the prison, that the death of his wife had managed to do what all the torture inflicted on his body hadn’t accomplished. He was now a broken man.
Rob Roy MacGregor (Campbell) purchased land, using his mother’s maiden name of Campbell. The Crown had, by this time, outlawed the MacGregor, yet another bitter pill to swallow, and the bad blood that remained between the Campbells and Rob Roy left a sickening ache in Robert Campbell’s heart, and one he did not want to resurrect by including the MacIains in his Crown prosecution.
Had he informed on The MacIain, he was sure the ghosts of MacDonalds, MacIains, and MacGregors past, his sister and God knows who else, would haunt him until the end of his days, and no amount of whisky would drown out the words they would cast at him from beyond the grave.
But he resented the loss of his animals, and the constant looting of his property left an indelible mark of bitterness towards the MacDonalds.
In a last effort to support his family, and escape the financial straits he had managed upon them, Robert, at the age of fifty-nine, with little
funds and no other prospect, set into motion the chain of events that would write him into the history books as one of the most despised humans to have lived.
He joined the Earl of Argyll’s Regiment of Foot.
Chapter Two
Alastair MacIain MacDonald, the clan chief of the Glencoe MacDonalds, travelled to Fort William on the 31st December 1691 to ask the governor, Colonel Hill, to administer his oath to the Dutchman William of Orange, now the King of England. Duke Dantalian, under the guise of Colonel Hill, was then to put into action the plan the six fallen Angels had constructed. He informed the McIain he was unauthorised to receive his oath and urged Alastair to travel quickly to Inveraray, whereupon his pledge would have to be made before the Sheriff of Argyll, Sir Colin Campbell, who also happened to be King Amdusias, one of the Great Kings of Hell, with twenty-nine legions under his command.
With a letter of protection from Sir Colin in his pocket, Alastair was assured that no action would be taken against him or his people, without him first putting forward his case before King and Council. The letter would state that Sir Colin should have, but could not receive his oath because of mitigating circumstances, but that it had been given by the specified date.
“Is he approaching yet?” Duke Vual, in the appearance of Captain Drummond, asked.
“I care not,” King Amdusias replied. “Do they not have breeches in this time that will fit around my nether regions? These are damned uncomfortable.” He pulled and tugged at the offending garments as he griped.
“You are supposed to be Sir Colin Campbell, Amdusias. I doubt you would hear him whinge on about how his breeks were giving him gip!”
Amdusias stopped complaining when he heard the cries of the guards on duty, announcing the arrival of a visitor, who it would appear, listening to the eager yells, was quickly nearing the castle. Whoever was approaching was being loudly announced with yells echoing from gatehouse to the curtain wall. The sounds, at times, were getting lost in the wild wind that blew enthusiastically around Barcaldine Castle. The snow was falling heavily, randomly flying in frenzied patterns as it was swept along with the powerful wind, yet still, a blanket of snow spread evenly over the ground, and snow drifts began to creep around the Castle like hunched camouflaged demons.
“He has arrived,” Drummond said. “It’s time to make a hasty exit, Amdusias. You know what to do next.”
“You do not have to remind me. Just remember to do your part, without embellishment. Make sure you delay him for three days and all will be well,” he answered angrily.
Shifting uncomfortably, Vual scratched his knee and frowned. “How can there possibly be bloody midges at this time of year? They suck me dry!”
Amdusias groaned. This was not the way he had expected their plot to develop. It was a freezing country, and a damned uncomfortable one as well. He rolled his eyes at Vual and promptly disappeared.
As it happened, no matter how hard he tried, Drummond/Vual could not prevent The MacIain leaving Barcaldine the following day, so determined was he to protect his people by putting forth his allegiance to the English King William. Vual knew his existence would be made miserable by Amdusias for his ineptitude, but these humans constantly baffled him. As he released the body of Drummond, he flew into the cold air in search of another way of preventing The MacIain arriving at his destination on time.
The weather was dismal, even for January in the Highlands, and the seventy-two-mile journey to Inveraray Castle was a bitterly cold one. Vual hid in the snow mounds and blew icy demonic breaths into the air, and the chill factor rose. Heavy snow poured from the skies, and with a sharp gust of breath, Vual caused the wind to pick up and form a cloudy snow storm. The tentacles of the storm swirled around The MacIain, and he tugged at his clothing, accidentally opening his skin to the freezing elements. He shivered and wrapped his garb tighter around him, then, with determination, yanked his plaid over his nose and mouth. His horse would die if he stopped for a moment, even though he had covered the beast in swaddling plaids. He smiled to himself recalling his wife’s painstaking job of carefully binding each of the loyal beast’s legs. When The MacIain shivered, the horse forced his head forward, equally as determined as his master to reach their destination. The storm whipped up around them like an invisible captor, but he forged onwards, determined to make his oath of allegiance.
Vual’s calculated actions saved him from Amdusias’s wrath because The MacIain took three days to reach Inveraray.
It would be written into history that Sir Colin Campbell had spent the New Year with his family in Loch Fyne and had been delayed in returning to Inveraray, to accept The MacIain’s allegiance, because of the unusually bad weather. Amdusias laughed while watching The MacIain from the comfort of Sir Colin’s private rooms, as he hurriedly walked around the forecourt of the castle. It would have been preferential to keep the man waiting a week, and if that was the case, the demons’ plans would easily be accomplished.
He noted the restlessness of the guards. They knew Sir Colin Campbell was in situ, and they also found it amusing to keep the clan chief waiting, but as the days dragged on and the weather continued to batter and chill them, their amusement turned to discord. When the three days came to an end, and before a rebellion broke out amongst Sir Colin’s guard, Amdusias reluctantly accepted The MacIain’s oath of allegiance.
MacIain left Inveraray and headed home to Glencoe, satisfied that he had made the oath in time and that his people were safe.
“It is strange,” a voice whispered from the shadows of Colin Campbell’s private rooms. He turned quickly to view the dark outline of the entity who spoke and sighed in pleasure when King Balam walked out.
“What is strange?” he asked the king.
“This human I inhabit, this John Dalrymple. I fear there was no need for me to have taken over his form. He has hate enough inside to have accomplished this feat without my assistance. He wants to see an end to the Highlanders. There was no need for me to have become involved.”
“But Balam,” Amdusias insisted, “he mayhap required a little push?”
“I think not. His desire is to rid Scotland of the Highlanders and their way of life. He believes Scotland would be better served in a union with England.”
“Pfft.” Amdusias flipped his hand. “These Scotsmen don’t know what they want. That is why we are here to… assist.”
Balam laughed outright. “You may be right there. They are a nation of differences, are they not? They definitely spike my curiosity. I wonder what their women are like in bed—feisty and hot, no doubt.”
“I think talk of such has to be held aside, until we see the end to this.” King Amdusias huffed. “Do you go forward with the plan now?”
“Yes, of course. I meet with John Campbell, the first Earl of Breadalbane, and his cousin Archibald Campbell.”
“You mean Flauros?”
“Yes, yes, Flauros,” Balam answered shortly. “Why did we not think John Campbell could be possessed and controlled? Was it the case that he has enough hate in his heart for the MacDonalds and MacIain? If so, then my resources are wasted in this form, for he is, as John Dalrymple and well on the way to becoming one of our minions.” Balam frustratedly ran his hand through the mat of Dalrymple’s hair. “We could have been working on something else and not wasting my time in this black heart’s body.”
“You have it right, but I still say John Dalrymple required a little ‘persuasion’, and that using Campbell’s body would definitely have been a waste of your time.” Amdusias sighed, as he picked up Sir Colin’s diary. “I had better complete this and remember to write that MacIain’s actions had been carried out. Why do we not just omit that fact? It would make this whole scheme so much easier.”
“Do not waver from the plan, Amdusias. It must be kept in line.”
“Aye, I have understanding of this. I wish thee farewell. Enjoy London. I wish I were the one to go, instead of having to stay in this Godforsaken freezing country. Have they heard of
fires in Scotland?”
“That they have, but they’ve also heard of expense too. There is not much money up here.”
“Another reason I’d like to be in London. At least they have wealth. I eat mutton again today and neeps. Why do they insist on feeding me turnip—it is for cows, is it not?”
“When you have a hungry belly, turnip will do.” Balam shook his head. “At least you feed, many don’t.”
“Go, Balam,” Amdusias grumbled. “The sooner this is resolved, the sooner I get to be in my castle.”
The Master of Stair, John Dalrymple, waved farewell to Sir Colin Campbell and disappeared before his eyes, emerging in the luxurious apartment rooms of Archibald Campbell, tenth Earl of Argyll.
He waited a few moments to register the opulence surrounding him and settled himself in a high-backed chair, awaiting the arrival of his friend Duke Flauros, another of the Great Dukes of Hell. Balam respected this mighty warrior, especially as he controlled his twenty legions without having to use punishment. They followed him wherever and whenever he asked. He truly was a mighty warrior with a very special gift, and one that was exceptionally beneficial for the plan to be completed. When asked questions, he could give true answers to everything in the past, present, and the future, and he had now, cunningly, possessed the body of Archibald Campbell.
“So you cared to visit, then.” Flauros laughed when he caught Balam unaware of his presence.
“How fare thee?” Balam said, jumping from the chair and grabbing Flauros’s arm.
The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution Page 2
