Lord of the Isles (Coronet Books) by Nigel Tranter Read Free Book Online

sort which could cost blood, much blood.
    The other spoke only once during that survey. “Lochan. Wood. Marsh. Cattle.” And he jabbed a pointing finger as he enunciated each word. Then he nodded and turned to consider the wider scene, to west and south-west, the mountains and valleys there. At length he said “Come!” and turned to retrace his steps.
    By the time that they got back to the ships, Somerled had made up his mind. There had been no alarms, and save for the sentries, all were sleeping. He summoned Saor, Conn and Dermot to a council-of-war—although there was little of council about it.
    “There are twelve longships there,” he told them. “As many as one thousand men, therefore. Too many to take by surprise at night, with our numbers. We might slay some, but the rest would be roused and able to overwhelm us. So it must be otherwise.”
    They waited, expressions varied.
    “We must make the land fight for us. And it is good land for it. There is woodland, a lochan, bog and a slender hook of headland. Aye, and cattle. Enough to serve us, I say.”
    “Against a thousand?” Conn wondered.
    “Used aright, the land could be worth many hundreds. The difficulty will be to get our two hundred to where the land is our ally. These gallowglasses will never cross these steep hills, as I have done, and be in a state to fight after. And there is no way round the shore. So they must be taken in the ships.”
    “Which means by night,” MacNeil declared.
    “Yes. There is no way that we can win past this Sallachan in daylight without being challenged. As we need. But a night attack will not do, this time. Dawn, it will have to be. They must see, be able to
see
, what is against them.”
    The others stared.
    “I tell you, the land will fight for us—and must be seen to do so. But—more of that later. Meantime we wait here. I am tired and must sleep. We shall sail at the darkest, between midnight and dawn. Keep you watch . . .”
    So, fed and rested, a move was made by the company at about three in the morning. It was certainly dark enough for their requirements, so dark that getting the longships out by that narrow, twisting channel was no easy task, involving much cursing by oarsmen. But at length they were all in open water and sailing well out into the pale glimmer of Loch Linnhe.
    They had to judge when they had gone some four miles, for the land offered no detail, only a darker line in the prevailing mirk. In fact, they calculated fairly accurately, for when they turned in again to the western shore, they made their landfall just beyond the far side of the Sallachan headland, which they were able to distinguish looming on their left.
    Running their ships’ prows up on to the shingle here, they disembarked, with strict orders for silence, since Somerled reckoned that they were less than a mile from the Norse encampment. Then he called the men to gather round a little marram-grass mound, from which he addressed them, keeping his voice low but distinct.
    “This time, we are going to have to fight, my friends, not just slay!” he told them. “And not in darkness. Such night as is left, we shall use to get into position—
our
chosen positions. But we need light to defeat these people as they must be defeated. To do that, we must use our wits as well as our swords and dirks. And use the land. For there are many more here than at the last camp. But we shall have them, never fear.”
    He allowed that to sink in, as men muttered and questioned.
    “Here is how we shall do it. We must split up their numbers. Which means that we must also divide ourselves. But heedfully. Our four ships must play their part. Each with only a very few men—we can spare no more than ten to each. These will make a seeming attack on the Norse craft beached in the bay behind yonder headland. A dozen of them, there are. Damage some if it can be done—but that is not the main intention. It is to draw some fair number of the Vikings away.