Just to warn you; this is not a new story, it was posted here a while ago,
but I noticed some bad mistakes with my Gaelic so I just had to make the
necessary corrections! Hey, I'm not a native speaker, so my Gaelic is FAR
from perfect. If you're reading this for the first time, enjoy!
Title: Laoch
Spoilers: None.
Classification: probably R, but have always been bad at rating
things like this, so feel free to correct me if you don't think that
this is correct.
Just a little background on the story. This one has been a long time
in coming, I've been waiting for ideas to come together for a while
now. Hope you like this story, set my home country! The title of
this story, 'laoch' (procounced LEE-uhx or LAY-uhx) is the Gaelic
word for 'hero' or warrior.' Some of the names of the characters
may seem strange, but don't pay to much attention to them and how
they should be pronounced, because in Gaelic, nothing is really
pronounced how it is actually spelled. What I find most interesting
is that most of them have English equivalent. I've outlined these at
the end of the story.
Disclaimer: JAG and its main characters belong to Don P. Bellisario
and the peeps at CBS. I don't make any profit from doing any of
this, but just enjoy providing a bit of entertainment for others and
exercising my creativity (Or avoiding doing important assignments for
uni!) Please don't sue me, I'm a poor student who will have a bad
enough time paying back the colossal amount on my student loan, starting from the middle of next year…If only I could do this for a living (If anybody has any offers, let me know!) Anyway, let's get just one last thing out of the way; if you particularly enjoyed this, please let me know. It doesn't have to be a hugely long e-mail, but just a sentence or two of encouragement or creative criticism would go a long way. And it would barely take a few minutes out of your day to do so. If you chose to reply to me, thanks very much!
OOOO
Part 1
From his place at his desk, in his office Harm looked out of the
window and across the bullpen. The office immediately opposite his
belonged to his partner of eight years. Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie was
also seated at her desk, her head bent down, engrossed in a case
file, as she had been for the past hour, now. This only now struck
Harm as odd, for he realised that she had just this morning signed
off on the last of her cases. He had been with her when she had
apprised the Admiral of her findings.
"Very well, Colonel," the gruff old Marine had told her, "dismissed…
Now, Commander, please tell me you're finally done with that mishap
investigation report…"
The man was no AJ Chegwidden, but you had to give him points for
efficiency.
So, if Mac was done with the last of her cases, what on earth was she
pouring over, right now? Harm was too curious to let the impulse
pass, so left his office and crossed the bullpen to hers. He knocked
and waited for the uniform enter.'
"Hey, Marine," Harm greeted her, "What're ya up to?"
Mac let out her held breath and uncovered the papers she had
concealed when she had heard the knock on her door.
"I thought you might be the Admiral," she explained to Harm, "I
didn't want him to catch me reading this on military time."
Harm caught sight of some sort of seal at the top of the papers she
had been reading.
"Luceo non uro? What does that mean?" he enquired, reading the
writing upside-down.
"It's latin," Mac explained, "It's the motto of the clan MacKenzie…"
"Oh, cool!" Harm exclaimed, "Is this one of those clan history
websites? Those things can be pretty interesting."
"Those pages are," Mac nodded, "Apparently, the name MacKenzie came
from descendants of the Norman family Fitzgerald' who settled in
Ireland."
"So how exactly did they come up with MacKenzie, then?" Harm asked.
"I was just about to get into that…"
"Sorry!" Harm grinned.
"No problem," Mac smiled, "Anyway, this member of the Fitzgerald
family, living in Leinster, in Ireland, Cailean' or Colin, well, he
was driven out and sought refuge in Scotland, at the court of
Alexander the third. After fighting with valour for the King at the
battle of Largs in 1263, the King established Colin as the governor
of Eileandonan castle in Kintail…Eventually, he had a son, Kenneth,
from whom all later generations took their name. MacKenneth'
literally translates as son of Kenneth.'"
"I never knew that," Harm told her, "How did MacKenneth'
become MacKenzie' though? They seem so different."
"'MacKenneth' got softened to "MacKenny' or MacKenzie'."
"I see," Harm nodded, "So, what else have you got there?"
"Something that Uncle Matt left me," she replied, quietly, gently
running her fingers over the pages, as if looking for some trace of
her Uncle in them. Harm didn't say anything, for he wasn't sure if
Mac would want to share any of the details in this document with him,
didn't know if she was ready yet. It had only been a few months
since Mac's Uncle had passed away in prison, only a matter of weeks
from his parole hearing. It seemed so unfair that Mac had been so
close to getting back her only real family member, only to have him
snatched away from her very grasp at the last minute.
"Well, I'll leave you to it…" Harm moved to get up, until Mac's
protest stopped him.
"No…well, I'd like to tell you about it…that is, if you're
interested…"
"Of course I am," Harm settled back into his seat, "I just wasn't
sure if you'd want to share…"
Mac just gave him a smile, which told him everything he needed to
know. Now, she was ready to share this part of herself with him, at
least this part of her heritage. Maybe sometime soon, she'd want to
share more…
"This is a family story, that my paternal Grandmother passed down to
my Father. My mother inherited it with the things that my Father
left to her when he died…She threw most of the stuff away, but my
Uncle Matt salvaged this, then left it with a trusted friend when he
went into Leavenworth…"
"Go on," Harm urged, gently.
After a short pause, Mac continued, "My Father's family traced their
roots directly back, all the way to the sixteenth century, to
descendants of Cailean MacKenzie, living in Kintail, near to
Eileandonan castle."
"That's amazing!" Harm exclaimed, softly.
"This is a simple version of the family tree," Mac unfolded a large
piece of paper, "The full version is a lot more complicated and has a
lot more off-shoots and people…"
"That's the simple version?" Harm grinned, eyeing the detailed
diagram, "I'd hate to have to unfold the full-version…"
Harm traced the lines down from the top, from Cailean to Kenneth, to
his son (also called Kenneth and hence, therefore
called MacKenneth') right down to Mac's Father's name, Joseph
MacKenzie.'
"So you'd go here?" he asked, pointing below her Father's name.
"Yeah," Mac nodded, "That's right."
"So which one is this story about?"
Mac moved much further up the page.
"It's about her," Mac supplied, "Anna Iseabail MacKenzie, who I'd
think would be my…great, great, great…great, great, great, great…
great-grandmother…I think… Anyway, Anna was the daughter of a
chieftain of the clan MacKenzie, but despite her direct lineage to
the clan founder, her family never prospered. They and many like
them made a living raising livestock and harvesting the heather that
grew on the moors."
At Harm's raised eyebrow, she expanded, "Heather was harvested and
its flowers used to brew a traditional kind of ale. Its recipe still
exists and has been handed down within families, as well."
"I'll stick to my own brand, thank you," Harm wrinkled his
nose, "Heather-beer doesn't sound all that inviting."
"It doesn't, does it?" Mac agreed, laughing, "But those were
dangerous times and warfare between clans was fierce and brutal and
was pretty much a norm. One day, Anna came home from the moors to
find much of the village smouldering and half of the inhabitants
dead. Her mother had been raped and strangled, her father had been
bashed over the head and left for dead, but he was just barely alive…"
"That's terrible…the poor kid," Harm commented, "How old was she?"
"I'm not sure," Mac told him, "But probably not into double figures."
"What happened after that?"
"The clans who had been attacked launched a counter-assault…"
OOOO
Kintail in Wester Ross
At the junction between
Loch Duich and Loch Long.
May 14th, 1607
Anna MacKenzie watched in silence as the members present at the clan
gathering each took their turn to speak.
"We cannot do nothing, when so much violence has been perpetrated
against us…"
"It would just be asking them to come back and stamp all over us
again…"
"Those MacDonald pigs will rue the day that they chose to come and
violate our village!"
"How many casualties and fatalities?" the acting chieftain spoke up.
"Over ninety injured and fatalities at just about half that amount,"
somebody told him.
"And who else do we have to stand by our side, if we chose to take
action against the MacDonalds?"
"Besides the other branches of the clan, the McIvers and the
Macauleys also have long-running disputes with the MacDonalds. We
have their pledge to join us in battle, should we ever call for their
support. We may also have the support of the MacNeils."
"And how many men is that?"
"Over a thousand, with the MacNeils as well."
"Very well," the chieftain replacing Anna's incapacitated father
conceded, "Into battle we shall go…Tell me, does anyone here know of
Dòhmnall? Anna, where are you, child?"
Anna quickly got to her feet and smoothed her apron over in the
presence of this important clan elder.
"Tell me, child," he spotted her, asking her gently, "How is your
father?"
"He is still a little confused, but he is getting better," she told
him, "He is now free of the tremors and is on the mend."
"Will he be ready for war?" someone else spoke up.
"Yes, he thinks so…"
OOOO
After that, the clan was plunged into a flurry of activity, as all
was prepared for going into battle. Very few men were spared from
recruitment, not the old, not the young, not those with injuries.
Even Anna's Father still marched with the troops, despite his head
wounds and injury. He would not have remained behind, even with worse
injuries, Anna knew that. But now she and her six-year-old brother
were on their own. Anna would have to take care of herself and her
little brother, now that their Mother was no longer around and their
Father was off to war.
OOOO
She had to be a Mother and Father to her brother and look after
herself?" Harm exclaimed.
Mac did not have an opportunity to reply, for there was a knock on
the door and Harm and Mac both scrambled to cover the evidence.
"Enter."
Both breathed a sigh of relief when Bud stuck his head around the
door.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you and the Commander when you two are so
busy, but the Admiral had to step out for a while. Could I please
get you to sign off on this case for me?"
"Of course, Bud, take a seat."
As Mac read through the files and signed off, Harm let Bud in on the
secret.
"Actually, Bud, we weren't working…Can you keep a secret?"
Bud looked intrigued; "Yes, of course, Sir."
Harm just gave him a mock appraising look and let him sweat it out
for a bit.
"I swear!" Bud exclaimed, looking to Mac for support.
"It's okay, Bud," she calmed him, "He's just kidding."
Mac proceeded to give him the rundown of just what she had already
told Harm.
Bud looked at the family tree and asked, "So, Ma'am, this Anna
MacKenzie…she would be your…eight-times great grandmother?"
"Yes, something like that," Mac nodded, "Anyway, as I was telling
Harm, virtually every man in the clan got ready to go into battle
against the MacDonalds, even the boys who were only just into double
figures and Anna was left to care for her younger brother."
OOOO
Da…can we come with you?" Anna asked her Father, anxiously.
"Huh?" Dòhmnall muttered, packing up his horse, "What was that,
petal?"
"I said, Can we come with you?' Just for a little of the way…"
Dòhmnall looked at his daughter, his resolve slipping as her deep
brown eyes pleaded with him. Her eyes were just like her Mother's,
he had a hard time denying her anything when she looked at him like
that…
"Alright, flower," he conceded, "You go and get Uilleam ready and
follow at the back of the file…But just as far as the bridge. It will
be dark soon."
Anna quickly ran and tacked up her pony, lifted her little brother
astride it first, before mounting herself. Spurring the little
Shetland pony into action, she and her brother took their place at
the back of the convoy.
"Anna, where are you going?" Little Uilleam protested as Anna steered
the pony out of formation.
"We won't be able to see Da if we stay here," Anna told the boy, "
I'm taking us along a shorter route, so we can get ahead of them.
Hold on tight now, we'll have to trot."
Without a second of hesitation, Anna spurred the pony into a quick
trot, reflexively tightening her arms around her little brother and
tightening the muscles in her legs, essentially gripping around the
bare torso of the small beast.
Soon, they came to the edge of a cliff, which looked out over a
valley. Sure enough, the beginning of the convoy appeared and in
time, their Father came into sight.
"Da!" Uilleam called loudly, "Up here."
Dòhmnall looked puzzled for a second as he took in the sight of his
children.
"I thought I told you, only as far as the bridge…"
"We never set foot over that bridge," Anna shouted back with a cheeky
grin. She was right, technically, they had turned before the
bridge. Their Father had never stipulated that they go straight back
home.
"I promise, we'll go straight home as soon as the rest of the
file pass," Anna reassured her Father, at the man's exasperated
look. She knew that the last thing he needed to worry about was if
she and Uilleam were safe.
"You take care of your brother, now, you hear?" Dòhmnall railed off
some last minute instructions, "Help Elspeth as much as you can
around the house, Anna look after the beasts and the chooks… I love
you both, take good care of each other."
"Yes, Da!" they both chorused, waving, "We love you, too…"
They watched as their Father disappeared into the distance. Anna was
about to urge the pony away, when she caught sight of a young boy at
the back of the convoy. He was riding his own horse, alongside his
Father. Alasdair MacKenzie had been a childhood friend of Anna's,
although she had refused to associate with him when, at the age of
eight, he had referred to Anna as just a wee lassie.' Despite the
fact that this was actually true, she had stopped talking to him
after that incident.
"What a pity he's leaving for battle," Anna thought to herself, "He's
nearly as young as I am…"
As Alasdair caught her eye, she saw him quickly straighten his back,
hold his head high and square his chin, proudly. He was a wee man'
now, joining the warriors in battle…But would he ever return home
from the conflict?
OOOO
Anna was twelve when things began to unravel. She was turning out to
be a very pretty little thing, but unfortunately this also attracted
her unwanted attention. Murdo MacLeish, an officer for a local tax
official, had begun to make unsolicited advances towards the young
girl, who frankly could not abide the lecherous man.
"You know, if you came to live with me and share my bed, I could
consider letting you off with the monthly rent on this land…" he
drawled, following her along as she moved the group of highland cows
out of the top field.
"I would rather wallow in the shite with the pigs, Murdo," she
responded, stonily.
Over the last few months, the man had been unable to budge her even a
fraction of an inch on the subject, despite his relentless needling.
Several people around laughed uproariously at Anna's cutting remark
and at the sour look it elicited on Murdo's face.
"Feck off, Murdo!" Iain, one of Anna's elderly neighbours told the
man, "You know she isnae' interested. You'll have her Daddy to
wrangle with, before you ever get your claws into her."
"Just you wait and see," Murdo shouted, as a parting shot, "One day
you'll have nothing and nobody to protect you but me, then you'll
have no choice but to concede to my demands."
When he was gone, Anna gave a big sigh and carried on with her duties.
"Go on, lass," Iain eventually took pity on her, tousling an
affectionate hand through her dark, wavy hair, "I'll get the beasts
settled in, here. You go home and help Elspeth with the tea…"
"Thank you, Iain," Anna told him, gratefully, lifting a basket full
of vegetables that she had picked, earlier, "I'll see you tomorrow…"
She set off for home, slowly, weary from the long day of manual
labour she had had and the long evening she knew still lay ahead of
her. On the outskirts of the village, she was approached by a group
of chattering children and it took a second for her to realise what
they were all simultaneously trying to tell her.
"Elspeth told us to come and find you…"
"You have to go home, quickly…"
"Uilleam is sick…"
"Hurry!"
Anna dropped everything she was carrying, lifted her skirt and took
off as fast as she could. In the front yard, she sent the chickens
scattering left and right as she ran to the front door. Uilleam was
lying on a pallet of fresh straw in the living room, Elspeth at his
side, bathing him with a wet cloth, trying to keep his fever down.
"Uilleam…what's happened, what is wrong with him?" Anna demanded, as
she dropped to her knees on the floor, beside her brother. His skin
was flushed and covered with a red rash and it looked as if he was
experiencing delirium.
"He began to feel ill this morning, after you left for the moors,"
Elspeth told her, "I was going to send for you earlier, but Uilleam
didn't think that we should bother you…He's a good wee boy…"
Elspeth stroked her hand through the damp hair of the boy she had
come to love like a son. Ever since she had lost her own son during
childbirth, then her man on the battlefield, she had turned her
attention to Anna and Uilleam. Their Father, Dòhmnall was actually
her cousin, so she felt like she had a duty to them.
Anna gently stroked her little brother's face, but he didn't even
know she was there, he was so ill with fever. Despite their valiant
struggle to get fluid into him and to keep his temperature down, Anna
and Elspeth lost Uilleam in the pre-dawn hours of the next morning.
They buried him beside his Mother and despite feeling as if she was
now totally on her own, Anna knew that now he was at peace, for he
had never really gotten over their incredible loss. He had just been
too young to be without his mother.
OOOO
"She sounds as if she was a very strong child," Harm commented, "Very
few kids her age would be expected to take care of themselves and run
the family business, these days…"
"I heard that the Celts were a very hardy people, Sir," Bud
contributed, "You have to remember that they lived in very basic
shelter and survived very harsh weather. In fact, I read somewhere
once that they used to bathe their children, even during the most
brutal of winters and slept out on the moors, sometimes with just a
wet piece of wet tartan to wrap around themselves…"
Mac and Harm just gave him a funny look.
"Why would the their tartan be wet, Bud?" Mac asked.
"Uh, well, apparently wet tartan keeps out the cold and keeps in the
body heat better than dry tartan does, Ma'am," he told them.
Mac smiled, only Bud would know something like that!
Just then, there was a knock at the door and everyone scrambled to
cover up all of the sheets they had been pouring over.
Mac called, enter' and Sturgis appeared.
"Oh, hey," he greeted them, "I thought I saw Harm come in here a
little while ago. I just wanted to check that we're still on for
that football game, tonight…"
"Yeah," Harm told him, "Eight o'clock at my place sound okay? The
kick-off is at eight-thirty."
"Sounds great…" Sturgis nodded, then caught sight of Bud, "Uh…Are you
doing anything tonight, Lieutenant? Would you like to join the
Commander and I?"
Bud was surprised to say the least. Commander Turner had been cool
with him for a while now, although he seemed to be over his initial
anger.
"That would be great, Sir," Bud stammered, "Eight, at the Commander's
place?"
"Yep," Sturgis nodded, "Say…what are all of you doing in here? Mac's
already signed off on all of her cases and the bullpen's been
absolutely dead for the past week…"
"Well, don't tell anyone, but I was just showing Harm and Bud this
information that I got about my family history," Mac told him, "My
Uncle Matt left it to me with his other belongings."
"I was so sorry to hear about your Uncle, Mac," Sturgis
expressed his condolences.
He had been away on an investigation at the time of Matthew O'Hara's
passing and had not been able to attend the funeral along with the
rest of Mac's friends.
"Thank you, Sturgis," Mac thanked him for his thoughts.
"So this is your Mother's side of the family? She and your Uncle
were siblings, weren't they?"
"Actually, it's information about my Father's side of the family,"
Mac told him, "Somehow, it all got passed along to my Uncle Matt."
Mac briefly explained the family history then related the story, so
far, of her ancestor, Anna MacKenzie.
OOOO
Anna gritted her teeth and put all of her energy into the task at
hand.
"Stupid beast!" she growled at the horned cow, "Move!"
By the time Anna had the animal out of the mud, she was exhausted and
covered in the thick, black mud herself. Then she heard the last
voice she wanted to hear at that moment.
"Now, I remember you once saying that you would rather wallow in pig
shite before you would ever have anything to do with the likes of me…
I do believe that day has come."
Murdo MacLeish had a smug grin on his face, sitting upon his mangy,
skin-and-bones horse.
"Murdo, I'd rather kiss your horse," Anna told him, her expression
filled with loathing, "Whereas it is a horse, you are just an ass."
Murdo's smug mouth disappeared to form a tight line.
"Just you mark my words, Anna MacKenzie," he spat out, "One day, you
won't have anyone around to protect you and then you'll have to have
dealings with me."
With that, he left.
Anna sighed. She was now fourteen years old, she was no longer a
child and she had a good idea about what it was that Murdo wanted
from her. She shivered with revulsion at the thought…But still,
somewhere at the back of her mind, she considered the possibility of
giving into Murdo's demands. If she had done so two years before,
she would not have had to do so much work on her own. She could have
spent more time at home, taking care of her brother. Would Uilleam
perhaps have been alive today if she had used her common sense,
instead of just listening to her pride?
Elspeth quickly discounted the possibility, when Anna confessed her
thoughts to her, later that night. They were beside a large fire,
when the still-small clan had gathered together for a small
celebration.
"You know that wouldn't be the case," Elspeth remonstrated
her, "Scarlet fever isn't picky about who it preys upon; young, old,
weak, strong, rich or poor, it kills you all the same. Besides, even
if he did survive it, which few people do, he never would have been
completely well again, not after the fevers that he had. And you
know that he would have been taken off into battle once he became old
enough, just like these lads here."
Elspeth pointed to the group of young boys gathered around the fire,
enjoying an ale or two. They would be leaving for battle at first
light, tomorrow.
"You know that he would have died on the battlefield, anyway, even
with your Father there to protect him. He was not so inclined."
"I suppose so…I can't stand Murdo, but sometimes I think that life
might be a lot simpler if I just do what he wants…"
"Murdo MacLeish is not the man for you, flower," the older woman put
an arm around her, "Just you keep waiting, one day you'll meet your
intended and then everything will start to make sense…Just you hold
on."
Elspeth left her away with her thoughts and Anna concluded that the
woman was right. Uilleam had never been one for fighting, he just
didn't take after their Father in that respect. She would try her
best to hold on…Anna wondered if they would ever see her Father
again. In one way, she wished for it with all her heart, she really
did miss him terribly. But she also knew that if she were to see him
again in the near-future, it was likely to be on a funeral pyre. At
least not seeing him meant that he was safe, but was just too busy
fighting to make the journey home. Over by the fire, old Aonghas,
one of the few remaining young men left, was launching into a story,
to inspire the young boys who would be leaving the village in the
morning. Aonghas had lost the use of one side of his body, after
being thrown from his horse in battle, a fair few years before.
"To send you on your way with bravery and fearlessness, I'm going to
tell you the story of Cailean Fitzgerald, the brave warrior from whom
every one of us was born. His blood circulates through us all and we
are not afraid to spill it on the ground in the name of our noble
clan. With his fearlessness, we shall crush our enemies and attain a
glorious victory, in the name of our clan, our allies and in the name
of our King…"
Anna continued to listen to the story for a while, but she knew it
well, for it was one that was an important part of her clan's
heritage. The story held that Cailean Fitzgerald had saved the life
of their King from certain death while the royal party was hunting in
the forest. Some hounds had aroused the fury of a stag, which had
then charged at the King. Cailean had realised the carnage that
would doubtless occur unless he did something, quickly. At the last
possible second, Cailean had run into the stag's path, raised his bow
even as the stag beat down upon him and shot the beast cleanly
between the eyes with his only remaining arrow. After this, the King
had presented Cailean with his own armorial bearings and his progeny
had continued to wreak their fury in battle, just as Cailean himself
had.
Before Anna went to sleep that night, she imagined her own fearless
warrior, who would protect her from the wrath of Murdo MacLeish…If
only…
OOOO
"The poor thing!" Bud exclaimed, "She was totally alone, she was so
young and she was getting advances from a total creep! Ma'am, please
tell me that she didn't give in."
"I know it sounds awful, Bud," Mac attempted to explain, "But in
those days, Anna would have been considered an adult. Boys younger
than her fought in battle and some girls younger than her had already
started their families. Because her Father wasn't around, there was
nobody to give consent, so maybe she would be considered to have been
in quite unusual circumstances…"
"But it seems so wrong," Bud shook his head, "She clearly couldn't
stand that man."
"Relax, Bud," Sturgis (of all people!) moved to placate Bud, "I'm
sure that her clan members would have done something to protect her."
"Although," Harm hated to admit, "MacLeish was in a position of power
over them. He had the power to hold the whole clan to ransom, until
her got what he wanted…"
Bud just began to look sick and everyone was silent, for this was a
terrible possibility for them to contemplate. A knock sounded on the
door and this time, nobody moved to hide anything. Luckily, it was
Harriet. She was quickly inducted into the tale.
"So, what happened, Ma'am?" Bud hesitated, "Did Anna escape from the
grasp of Murdo MacLeish?"
OOOO