Page 46 of Bound By Honor
The prayers trailed off and the bishop called Alexander forward. As the heir, it was his solemn duty to remove the bones of his grandfather, Donald, from the tomb that had been opened the day before by the monks. Donald’s grave slab had been moved to a new place in the chapel near his final resting grave.
The voice of Angus Mor’s bard, one of the MacMhuirichs, sounded out clear and strong as he began to recite in chanting rhythm the Lords of the Isles’ long ancestry accompanied by the harpist Alex had brought from Ardtornish to Iona.
The chant continued as generation by generation, from Angus Mor, back to the ancient Conn of a Hundred Battles, the great Macdonald’s lineage was remembered.
When the bard finished, without aid from others, Alexander lifted Angus Mor’s body, draped in the white winding sheet, cradling it for a moment before lowering the body into the same grave previously occupied by Donald’s bones.
Angus’ father had once explained that at a lord’s burial three kings are present: the father, the son and the grandfather, a trinity reinforcing the everlasting lordship.
When he had first arrived on Iona for the burial, Angus had spoken to Alex about their father’s grave slab. “I would have it ready for the burial.”
Alex agreed. Given the importance of the lord being buried, Iona’s leading artisan had set his other work aside to accommodate their request. In addition to a sword and a cross, per their instructions, carved into the sandstone was a sleek galley with high prow and stem and doused sails, a fitting tribute to a great sea king.
As the new grave slab was rolled into place on old oar shafts dedicated to the purpose, the monks’ chants rose, filling the chapel with the ethereal music. Their singing spoke to Angus of the celestial realm, now the abode of his father’s soul.
When the ceremony was concluded, the monks’ chanting died down and the abbot said a last prayer for the soul of Angus Mor.
Angus left the chapel with a heavy heart. He knew his father would live again but he was gone from this world. In his mind, Angus heard the words of Donald Mackay, the seer:Two chiefs will die before a new one rises with a new king.Was his father one of those chiefs? And, if so, who was the other?
That night, they dined in the abbey with the monks on a meal of roast venison and pork, consuming the last of the wine and cheese Angus had brought.
The talk drifted from the actions of John Balliol, the new King of Scots, who was recognized by all as no great leader, to Edward of England, a strong king but with cruel proclivities as evidenced by his brutal conquest of Wales, to Alex’s impending position as Lord of the Isles. For the latter, there was much enthusiasm.
The next morning, Angus sailed for Kintyre with John and Duncan and his parents only to depart for Islay a fortnight later. A Council meeting had been hastily called for the second week in March to be held at the seat of the Macdonalds at Loch Finlaggan. It was the place of ceremony to install a new Lord of the Isles. Others, not present at the burial of Angus Mor, were in attendance. Among these were the chief poet, musicians and bards as well as the chancellor, judges and bailiffs. Beyond them, thanes and squires from around the Isles had gathered to see the new chief installed. The Marischal, Chief Gilbride MacKinnon, who was also the Macdonald standard bearer, had come with his ceremonial axe inlaid with silver.
Once all had arrived, they assembled next to the chapel on Eilean na Comhairle, the Council Isle. With the Bishop of the Isles again presiding in his official vestments, mitre and ring, Alex was made Lord of the Isles in a ritual as old as the lordship itself.
Clothed in a white tunic to show his innocence and integrity of heart, and to assure his clansmen that he would be a light to his people and maintain the true faith, Alex set his foot into the depression cut into a square stone where others before him had set their foot.
Facing the chiefs, he said, “I will walk in the footsteps and uprightness of my father and his forbearers.” Then he received the white rod of kingship in his hand, indicating he had the power to rule, not with tyranny and partiality, but with discretion, sincerity and purity.
After this, the bishop placed Angus Mor’s sword in Alex’s hand, signifying that his duty was to protect and defend the clan from its enemies in peace or war. With war ever on the horizon, Angus expected all viewed this a particularly significant moment. Alex would now be the one making decisions for the clans.
With the ceremony concluded, those in attendance poured out their prayers for the new lord’s success.
“’Tis done,” Angus said to Duncan and John. “We have a new Lord of the Isles.”
“Aye, and now to Mass,” said John.
“And the blessing of Bishop Mark and the mandatory seven priests,” added Duncan with his usual good humor.
Angus did not mind the lengthy process as it made firm his brother’s position and confirmed the support of all the chiefs.
After the Mass, as they were dismissed, Alex invited all to a great feast, which was to last for a sennight. During that time, Alex made Angus the Lord of Kintyre and gave gifts to the monks, poets, bards and musicians.
Despite the celebrations and his new status, in which he delighted, with affairs in Scotland so uncertain, a wave of melancholy swept over Angus as he and Duncan left John and Alex on Islay to their shout of Godspeed and sailed back to Kintyre.
CHAPTER 9
Dunaverty Castle, Kintyre Peninsula, June 1294
IT HAD BEEN over a year since the burial of Angus’ father. During that time, Angus had become Alex’s right arm, undertaking tasks that called for dealing with the clan chiefs and keeping an eye on the waters where the MacDougalls and their allies might be tempted to raid.
With grave concern, Angus and Duncan had followed closely the events unfolding in Scotland. In an effort to curb the growing power of Alexander MacDougall of Lorne and the MacRuaris of Garmoran in the northwest, both kindred enemies of the Macdonalds, King Edward had turned to Angus’ brother, Alex, naming him one of the English king’s bailiffs. And so the Macdonalds and the Lordship of the Isles were aligned with the King of England against the Balliol-Comyn-MacDougall faction that reigned in Scotland.
In May of the prior year, Edward had summoned King John to London, demanding to know why he was ignoring Edward’s judgments, including Alex’s own appeal concerning Lismore. Balliol, who had once sworn fealty to Edward, tried to reverse course, saying he could not agree without consulting the Scots nobility. But, confronted with the fierce English king, whose disdain for so weak a ruler must have been intense, Balliol swiftly conceded and affirmed his vassal status as “your man of the realm of Scotland”. News of this spread throughout the Highlands and the Isles where it was met with dismay.
Imagining the scene of Balliol kneeling before an outraged King Edward caused Angus to recall what his friend, Rob, had said about the King of England.He can be ruthless and terrifies everyone.
