Written In Stone

company.
    "Llewelyn," Muredach said. "Ye'll be gone from our lands, her to return. Bettina is mine, as is the spear. Ye'll not be putting yer hands on either one. We'll let ye leave in peace this time, but if ye come back, ye will die. Yer choice. Now go."
    "The spear belongs to the Llewelyn! Yer clan stole it. 'Tis rightfully ours and I'll be seein' it back where it belongs."
    "Ye her had it Llewelyn, 'tis always been in our hands. Now off with ye, man, before my men forget me orders to harm ye none."
    The Llewelyn's left without a fight, swearing to return and reclaim the spear.

Chapter Thirteen
Called to War
     
    Before Muredach could get back inside, a rider came in fast, leaping from his mount as he entered the inner bailey, and Muredach came toward him. "Beggin' yer pardon m' lord." The man bowed before him. "'Tis a message from the Alpin." Muredach hadn't seen his uncle in some time, and knew the message couldn't be good news by the way the rider rode in.
    MacAlpin was Maud's brother and held the lands near the border at Antonine's Wall. The lands between that border and Hadrian's Wall to the south belonged to Briton. South of Hadrian's Wall were the Angles and Saxons. Longing to dominate Alba, the Brits tried for centuries to overrun the borders, without success.
    Muredach stood with his legs wide apart, his hands on his hips. He was a massive expanse of muscle and sinew, and every man that looked at him, quaked in their boots. "Spill it," Muredach ordered.
    "The Al pin requests yer help, m' lord. 'Tis the Britons. They've crossed the wall and raided his lands, stolen his sheep, and set fire to the keep. They have been fightin' for a sennight, but canna hold out much longer. He needs ye and yer men to fight with him."
    Muredach nodded. "Tell him we are on the way, and will ride hard to be there quickly. Go to the kitchens first and get yerself a meal while the stable lad tends yer beast. Ye canna ride hard with out a meal in yer gut."
    "Aye, m' lord. Thank ye."
    Muredach went inside to find his father. "The Alpin is under siege by Briton and needs our help. The men are getting ready for battle."
    "I'll be speaking with yer mum. Tell the men to be ready within the hour."
    "Aye," Muredach said and found his brother, Crinan, and passed the order on. Crinan found Duncan, Malcom, and Findon, and the brothers set about preparing for battle.
    Muredach knocked lightly on Bettina's chamber door then entered. "Bettina," he said. "'Tis trouble near the border and I'll be leavin' shortly. Ye are not to go farther than the outer bailey. I doona trust yer da, he may have men watchin' ye, waitin' for ye to wander away from safety. Stay near with me mum. Aye?"
    "Aye," she agreed. "Be careful, Muredach."
    He smiled at her; she was always so sweet and caring. "Aye, I'll be careful," he replied with a nod and gently shut the door.
    ~ * ~
    The battle on Alpin land was fierce and continued for months. What the Mor's anticipated as little more than a few days battle turned out to be a fierce, ongoing war. This side of the country had been in turmoil as long as most could remember. Briton waged war over this particular piece of ground for centuries but never been able to hold it. The Picts, the Romans, the Galls, and the Normans, to name a few, all spilled their blood on this ground, but the Celts had won and kept it. Those same people became a part of it, named it Scotia, built upon its shores, toiled its ground, loved it, and it supported them. This battle was no different as far as the Mor Clan was concerned. It belonged to their people and they weren't giving it up.
    By the time Briton troops retreated behind the wall, it was near winter. Muredach and his men, tired, bedraggled, dirty, and hungry, headed back to Castle Mor, but before they arrived, they were in another battle — this one with the Llewelyn. Having contracted with the Graham and the MacAulay, Llewelyn was confidant. Muredach dispatched his youngest brother, Duncan, back to the Alpin to call in more men. They were outnumbered, and the Llewelyn's men were fresh. The Mor's men were weary after nearly seven months of battle, and even with the additional troops, another five months passed before the Mor's were able to send the Llewelyn and their allies back to their own lands.
    Clan wars had been a large part of Scotia's history. Muredach wasn't sure why they couldn't just all get along since they were all related, either by blood or by marriage. It seemed the land