Page 80 of Bound By Honor
From the deck of his ship, Angus searched for and sighted the MacRuairi chief in the stern of his galley. With Duncan on his heels and his galloglass guard around him, Angus pulled his sword from his scabbard. The slither of steel sounded a warning as he launched himself onto Ruairi’s galley.
He cut down two men who veered toward him. Leaving his sword in the heart of the second man, Angus drew his long dagger and raced to where the MacRuairi chief stood.
Ruairi’s eyes narrowed on Angus as he lifted his sword to strike but the press of struggling men fouled his swing. The blow missed and Angus kicked the sword from the chief’s hand. Too late, Ruairi reached for the dagger at his hip. Angus yanked him into a head lock, his silver blade against Ruairi’s throat, his hand blocking access to the sheathed dagger.
Duncan relieved Ruairi of his dagger, adding it to the pile of confiscated weapons accumulating on the deck, and tied the MacRuairi chief’s hands behind him.
When this was done, Angus faced Ruairi. “Order your men to drop their weapons or I shall take your head!”
Ruairi grunted the order.
“Louder! So all your men may hear,” said Angus.
Ruairi’s eyes were full of rebellion but he repeated the order in a louder voice.
The clash of weapons gradually ceased. Men clenched in combat stepped apart, panting, their arms falling to their sides in fatigue. Blades dropped to the deck as Ruairi’s men surrendered. Angus’ Irishmen gathered the weapons while his galloglass stood guard.
“I’ll not grant your freedom,” Angus told Ruairi, “until you acknowledge the authority of King Edward and Alexander Macdonald as his man in the Isles.”
Stern-faced and angry at his defeat, the dark-haired Ruairi nodded his agreement. Captured and without a weapon, he gave his oath.
As his fleet sailed away, Angus breathed a sigh of relief, thinking at least the MacRuairis had been dealt with. The goal had been to bring them into King Edward’s peace. He should have known better. Ruairi had brothers, one of which was Lachlan, a ruthless, unprincipled man, no better than a freebooter. It was Lachlan who had led much of the plundering that had taken place. Shortly after dealing with Ruairi, word reached Angus that Lachlan’s plundering continued despite his brother’s oath as the MacRuairi chief.
With the long days of the end of August to aid him, Angus chased Lachlan relentlessly until his galleys were cornered in a small bay where Angus used the same tactics to encircle his ships. With his archers keeping the MacRuairis’ swords at their sides, Angus forced Lachlan’s obeisance by taking his son hostage. That done, Angus was about to return to Islay when Ruairi, the MacRuairi chief, forgetting the oath he had given, apparently at Lachlan’s instigation, attacked the Isle of Skye.
Angus had had enough. Sending one ship south to retrieve his brothers and their galleys still at Dunyvaig, he vowed to Duncan, “If the MacRuairis will not act honorably, we will send their galleys to the bottom of the sea.”
“They have left us little choice,” agreed his cousin, his fair face red with frustration.
Two days’ later, Alex and John arrived, each at the helm of a galley and accompanied by several more, many galloglass among the crews. Conferring together at Ardtornish, Angus expressed his indignation at so dishonorable a foe. “We must pursue them, whether by sea or by land, until we have struck them a final blow from which they will not recover.”
“Agreed,” said Alex. “We will take the head of the snake.” So, a plan was devised by which they aimed their forces at Ruairi, the chief. This time, the villain retreated to Scotland’s western coast in Argyll where, doubtless, he hoped to find refuge with the MacDougalls.
The chase continued for some weeks but finally they were able to capture Ruairi along with his sons. They imprisoned them in one of the Macdonald holdings on the mainland where Angus intended they would remain for the present.
By September, King Edward’s mistrust of the MacDougalls had grown such that he ordered Alexander, Earl of Menteith, to take possession of the castles and lands belonging to Alexander MacDougall and his son, John, the one responsible for Sir Colin’s death. At least their fortresses, of which there were many, would not be used against the Macdonalds.
Angus remembered the Earl of Menteith and his brother from the meeting at Turnberry when the pact was sealed a decade ago. Much had happened since that fateful day. He wondered if the nobles who pressed their seals to the document had any idea where that alliance would lead them.
In December, as they were about to celebrate Christmas, Angus’ mother took sick and, not long after, died. With her children and grandchildren mourning her death, a pall was cast upon the season.
Dunseverick Castle, north coast of Ulster, spring 1297
NEWS REACHED Áine that Earl Richard had returned with only some of his army and that the rest remained with Angus. She wondered what could have happened. She did not ponder long. One of the returning galleys carried a messenger who rode from Dunluce to Dunseverick, asking for her.
Bowing before her and her father, he said, “Lord Angus has retained many of the Irishmen to fight for the Macdonalds. He needed them and they were willing. He wanted you to know they will be paid for their services.”
“Whom do they fight?” she asked.
“The MacDougalls, the MacRuairis and the Comyns, who are allied together and ravaging Macdonald lands.”
“It sounds like more a feud than a war,” she said.
“Aye, my lady. But King Edward wants peace and trusts the Lord of the Isles to restore it. Thus far, Lord Angus and his brothers have met with success. The MacRuairi chief and his sons are in prison.”
The messenger turned as if to go and then turned back. “Lord Angus did not ask me to convey this news but I thought you would want to know. His mother, Lady Helen, died at the end of the year.”
It had been more than a year since she had seen Angus. She had known he had gone to war. That he lived caused her spirits to rise. That he had lost the mother he loved only three years after his father died saddened her.
