Broadsword

by R. W. Hughes

  Alistair Monroe looked at the young man standing in front of him; he had the good looks of his sister, combined with the firm chin of Cormac his father. He had obviously inherited the stubborn streak that went with that chin. He had to admit the plan was risky, but it was sound and well thought out. The lad was certainly using his brain. And the clan were pressing for some form of retaliatory action to take place.

  He was surprised when his uncle raised no further objections, handing over the key to the war chest without another word. He made his way to his uncle’s study, after locking the door behind him, he moved his uncle’s chair from behind the large desk, rolled up the carpet and removed two short loose floorboards, exposing a brass bound wooden chest. Carefully lifting the chest out of the recess, he placed it on the desk. He had been present on several occasions in the past but he had never opened this container on his own before. It had always been either his uncle or his father. After taking what he thought would be sufficient gold coins for his needs, he relocked the chest, returning it to its hiding place then replaced the boards, carpet and the chair. As he stood at the study entrance looking back into the room he thought of the last time the chest had been opened in his presence: both his father and brother had been alive, and he had planned his life for years ahead.

  ‘So much for the well laid plans of men,’ he said softly to himself. Unlocking the study door and then locking it behind him, he made his way down the winding stairs and along the path to the chapel returning the key to his uncle who was still working on the entrance door. After saying his goodbyes to his mother, brother and sister, he set off on one of the local ponies with another following for use as a pack animal for his return journey, on the two days’ ride to the town and the port of Thurso.

  He had been to Thurso with his father on many occasions. It was a common practice for the coastal Highland communities to hire a ship, and then jointly deliver their livestock to the nearest port to be shipped down the coast to the larger towns, and it was here they would obtain a better price than the local markets. On occasions, this sometimes involved even going as far as the bustling city and livestock markets of Aberdeen. It was late on the second day when he arrived on the outskirts of the town but he managed to find accommodation at a coaching inn.

  After settling his ponies in the stable and leaving his pack in his room, he proceeded on foot through the narrow streets down towards the harbour, passing several noisy ale houses where sailors from the ships rubbed shoulders with drovers and merchants that were also in the town on business. George’s inspection showed there were several vessels moored on the quay designed for the carrying of livestock which would serve his purpose!

  Having made a mental note of their names he returned the way he had come to his lodgings. In the morning, he would strike a deal with the agent for the hire of whichever one of those vessels could be in Tongue on the date he required.

  He left the city the following day. His plan was beginning to take shape as he had arranged with the shipping agent and paid a small deposit in gold for the vessel to be in the bay at the Kyle of Tongue, in three days’ time. He had also been at one of the local hardware and chandler premises near the harbour and purchased the powder and shot he required for his coming exploits. It was while there in the chandlers he had overheard some rumours, that if true, could well be to his advantage.

  On his ride back from Thurso, he had time to contemplate the outcome of his and the clan’s forthcoming actions. Successful or not the raid would have serious consequences on the position of the Clan MacKay in the eyes of the existing ruling body of Scotland. This had been appointed by the English Parliament and the clan could expect some form of retribution from this council, but that problem would have to be dealt with has and when it came. He was surprised with the depth of his own feelings, and the fact that he too was also looking forward for the opportunity of inflicting some collateral damage on the Clan Sutherland.

  The Earl of Sutherland must feel in a very strong and secure position with his powerful contacts he had in the English administration and the powerful positions of authority he had managed to obtain for his relations for him to follow the road he had chosen, he had obviously felt the risk was worthwhile to blatantly arrange for the murder of the leader and the next in line of the Clan MacKay. But as he turned all this over in his mind, he was convinced that this overconfidence could well be the Earl’s Achilles heel.

  As he neared the village of Coldbackle on the Kyle of Tongue, he passed and acknowledged small groups of armed men going in his direction. Douglas and Riavach had wasted no time in following his instructions and issuing a muster, which he could see was been readily answered by his fellow clansmen. No doubt word would also be on its way to inform the Earl of Sutherland, which would fit into his plans most admirably. On arriving back at Tongue House, George decided that he would not inform his uncle of the rumour he had heard at Thurso. After all it was only a rumour and he did not want his uncle using this information to postpone his decision. His plans were now too far advanced for any obstacles to be placed in his path or cause any delay.

  He stayed at Tongue House for a further two days getting more impatient by the hour, until he felt sufficient numbers of men had arrived in response to the muster for his plan to succeed. It was then he distributed the powder and shot he had purchased in Thurso. As soon as this been completed, he set off at the head of two hundred well-armed Highlanders, instructing Riavach to send any latecomers to follow them with all haste. And as word had already gone ahead of them, he knew he would be collecting more men on the way.

  He intentionally arranged to leave late in the day so he would be at the cross roads to Tongue and Altnaharra village at dusk. It was only when all the men and pack ponies had arrived at the crossroads that he called for a meeting of all the leaders of the main parties that made up the group: the Mathowsons, Morgans, Polsons, Mackees, MacPhails, MacVains and Williamsons. When they had all gathered around him, he explained the final details of his plan.

  ‘Gentlemen! First, I thank you all for responding with your men to the muster. Tomorrow half the force will continue down the road to Altnaharra collecting more men on the way. At Altnaharra you will make camp for two days to allow all the stragglers and the rest of our clan that are answering the muster to join you. This will allow my party to travel during the night and meet with the cattle transporter as arranged at the small fishing village of Heilam on Loch Eriboll.

  We will then sail around Cape Wrath and down to the village of Scourie. You will then cut across country heading towards the occupied village of Scourie. This would give ample time for the Sutherlands to raise their own forces, going out to meet what they would consider the MacKay threat. In the meantime, the hundred or so Highlanders with me will at dawn in three days’ time land in the bay and sweep through the occupied village putting the Sutherlands and Duncans along with any of their other supporters to the sword. We will then come up behind the remaining Sutherland forces in a pincer movement, they would be by then confronting the rest of you, and we will then attack them from the rear.’

  ‘It is a bold plan,’ said Paul Aberach, the chief of the Clan Mathowson. ‘But there are a lot of ifs and buts with your proposed scheme. If you are held in the village of Scourie or delayed by bad weather along the coast, we will be sourly pressed to hold the Sutherlands on our own. I understand your delay in telling us the details of your plan, and the necessity for secrecy, but what of the captain of this ship and the shipping agents; they could well be blabbing this information all over the town of Thurso.’

  There were mutterings of agreement from the rest of the leaders that would be leading their men in crossing over the mountains.

  ‘Have trust in me,’ said George firmly gripping Paul Aberach’s shoulder.

  ‘And have no concerns as far as the shipping agent is aware. He has booked a ship to transport a herd of cattle, as is the norm at this time of year,
and I can assure you that if the captain wants to retain his ship he will have no option but to transport us to our intended destination. I will send a rider to inform you when we have set sail. If I do not arrive when you need me, you will know it is because I am dead. And you, Paul, will then withdraw your force in an organised manner.’

  Paul Aberach looked around at the rest of the group of men who were nodding in approval before he replied, ‘I can ask no more of a man than that.’ He then warmly shook George’s outstretched hand.

  ‘It is important, my friends, that we keep this plan to ourselves for the time being, our lives and the lives of your men depend on us taking the Sutherlands by surprise, and only inform the rest of your men the final details when they are on their way over the mountain towards the village of Scourie.’

  Each of the leaders nodded their heads in agreement, then took it in turn to shake the hand of George before wandering off to join their own individual groups of men.

  As those that were staying at the crossroad started to light their fires to prepare an evening meal, George with Douglas Polson and their followers slipped quietly away into the darkness following the track that after a twenty-mile hike during the night would allow them to meet the animal transporter at the quay near the small fishing village of Heilam on Loch Eriboll in time for the morning high tide.

  Four

  Both George and Douglas were waiting, standing alone on the quay, as the sailing ship came gently in on the early morning tide, slowly edging closer to the large baulks of timber that supported the wooden decking of the quay. In no time at all the sails were lowered and boat was fastened to the bollards at the stern and bow and the experienced crew were laying the ramps in preparation for the herd of cattle they were expecting. It was only then that they boarded the vessel. The boat consisted of two open decks with a vast series of pens where cattle could be contained and tightly packed against the wooden rails to lessen the risk of damaging themselves or their neighbours in the event of stormy weather.

  A wave of Douglas’s arm brought the Highlanders out of hiding from behind the sand dunes. In no time at all, they were all on board the ship, ignoring the startled cries from the captain and his crew as they proceeded to settle down on the straw laden pens, usually allocated for livestock, to catch up on the sleep lost during the forced march. When confronted with the alternatives, the captain reluctantly agreed, having no option to transport the change of cargo to its revised destination. Plus, if all went well, there was a bonus of a gold sovereign to be earned for him, on top of his fee from the shipping agent. In any event, did he really want to fall out with these Highlanders who would possibly take his boat and he would not get paid at all? On reflection, the captain realised that transporting men was much easier than transporting livestock, and by far much cleaner, and if they encountered foul weather on their journey that was their problem.

  In no time at all the ramps were lifted and they were pushing away from the quay, leaving the young Ian Aberach riding off on his pony to inform his father that all was going to plan. He had left several older members of their group to guard the track from the village; this was to restrain anyone from leaving for several days as keeping his movements secret was most important.

  The journey on the ship was not a pleasant one for the Highlanders. There was much cursing between the retching and seasickness of the men packed on the open decks as they sailed around the rough waters, aptly named “Cape Wrath”.

  ‘There will not be any fight left in them at this rate,’ commented Douglas to George as he watched his men. Their faces were a pale green and they were retching for all their worth over the sides of the ship.

  ‘I disagree Douglas,’ replied his companion with a wry smile. ‘They will be in such a foul mood they will wreak havoc on any Sutherlands they meet.’

  ‘Aye, you could well be right there,’ replied Douglas with a laugh, hanging onto the nearby rigging as the boat pitched and tossed on the rough sea.

  ‘We’ve made good time, Douglas,’ George said to his companion, as the crew lowered the sails and dropped anchor. ‘But the captain says he cannot go into Scourie Bay in darkness. No amount of threats or conjuring will persuade him otherwise as the risk to his ship is too great. But what he will do, because the weather is relatively calm, is to anchor here off the far side of Handa Island out of sight from the mainland. After midnight, he will sail and anchor at the entrance of the bay, as close to the beach as he dares. We will use his skiffs; it will take several hours to unload all the men. We will, I’m afraid, have to tow the pack animals behind the skiffs; there is no alternative. I only pray the delay is not our undoing; I was hoping to be in a position at dawn to catch the occupiers of the village off their guard and still in their beds.’

  There was no reply from Douglas; he just shrugged his great shoulders in acceptance of the situation.

  It had taken longer than anticipated to unload the men from the ship into the two small dinghies in the dark and then row them to the beach. The village had already come to life by the time he and Douglas had placed their men in position.

  He had emphasized—to each group as they left the small skiffs to join the main force waiting in the dunes—how imperative it was that no one was allowed to escape the village and reach the main force of the Earl of Sutherland’s men. As an added precaution, he had placed Douglas with the best of the group’s best marksmen on the track leading out of the far side of the village. Their instructions were quite clear: when the skirmish started, no one was allowed to pass them; not alive anyway.

  He had also ordered that there were to be no battle cries, as stealth and quietness was to be maintained for as long as possible as he set forth and led the main body of heavily armed Highlanders through the group of dwellings.

  The first few Sutherland followers that were encountered were so surprised that they were quickly overwhelmed simply being clubbed into unconsciousness. But within a matter of minutes, several fierce small battles were taking place in and around the crofters’ cottages, and the loud sound of an occasional discharged pistol could be heard above the shouting of the fighting men and the clash of steel upon steel of the blades of the heavy swords. It was a brief fierce struggle, the Sutherlands put up fierce resistance as they knew there would be no mercy shown by their attackers, mainly because of the recent atrocities carried out by themselves to the previous inhabitants of this village and the nearby island of Handa. Any Sutherland supporters fleeing from the fighting and thinking they had escaped were met by Douglas and the sharpshooters at the edge of the village.

  Douglas met George as he led the MacKays through the village, cutting down anyone that stood in their way, and checking as they went for any Sutherlands that might be hiding in the crofts. It materialised that the inhabitants, men, women and children along with those from the islands, had been driven forcibly from the village the previous day, after being kept bound and locked in the basements of the large fortified house since the first appearance of the Sutherland invaders.

  ‘We have to move on now, Douglas. Speed is now of the essence if we are to support our main force. Paul Aberach will now be moving overland and the Sutherlands will have raised a force to meet him.’

  Both he and Douglas had difficulty in reforming their men, only with kicks threats and bullying could they force them from pillaging the shelters and the bodies of their victims not only for weapons but anything else that was of any value. Eventually leaving a small group to guard the village and look after their injured, the main body set off across country heading to the head of Loch More. If he had planned it right, he was gambling that he would come up behind the main force of the Sutherlands as they advanced to meet the rest of his own followers.

  ‘It is all going to your plan,’ said a smiling Douglas, catching up with George as the group climbed towards the high point of that area called Feinne-Bhei. It would be from here where they would be able to vi
ew the whole country for many miles around.

  ‘Aye, that is true Douglas the bulk of the Sutherland clan billeted in the village left to meet the MacKay threat coming overland, but it is early days as yet; we will see what awaits us when we reach yonder peak. It is only then we can make a decision in which direction to proceed.’

  It was an hour later and Douglas was quietly impressed with his companion, even though he was blowing a little, he had stayed with the front group on their stiff long climb to the top of the mountain.

  It was fortunate that it was a fine clear day, and from the top of Feinne-Bhei they had a panoramic view of all the countryside around them with the still waters of the many lochs glistening in the late morning sun like a patch-work quilt scattered below them. As the rest of the group joined those already at the peak slumping down to rest and regain their breath, Douglas joined George as he franticly searched the area for the large body of men that would indicate the presence and the whereabouts of the Sutherland clan. Below as far as the eye could see there was no movement to be seen, from the road at Strathmore to as far as Loch Hope, over to Loch Deerie and even as far as the next mountain of Ben Loyal.

  Even with the help of a spyglass which he had purchased from a ship’s chandlery in Thurso, the result was the same, no movement.

  He could feel the sense of panic beginning to engulf him as he again scanned the horizon desperate for the slightest sign. The men around him had also sensed his anxiety and they too had left their relaxed positions they were also looking down over the distant country side for any sign of movement. They all had relations in the second larger group of men, so the fact that they could be unknowingly walking into a trap while they were here on the side of this mountain and unable to offer any assistance was of great concern to them all.