New World Sasanaichs

Ten

On the Morn of Samhain, everybody who’d settled and started the homestead three Days’ ride from Woolam’s Creek was up well before the Sun started to rise. All the womenfolk combined forces–in both a mere human and magickal sense–so they could prepare such a grand feast, it was truly fit for a King. For that matter, it was fit for the very Gods many humans either Wished they were, or fancied themselvesta be, if the power trip went to their heads a lil too much.

        While they were busy with that part, the menfolk were all teamed up to not only set up for the Sabbat celebration that’d come after Sundown–for those who could stay awake and Wished to participate, that is–but the handfasting Ceremony that’d take place today. After all, they’d to quickly finish building the small platform Jamie, his Intended, and her parents’d all be standing on during the actual Ceremony before decorating it. Then they’d to set up various tables they’d built for the feast to be laid out upon, which’d be easier than trying to have a single person dishing up and serving such a massive meal. From there, even the monotheistic humans’d agreed to help set up what most of the Elves’d need to perform their annual Samhain Ritual that Night.

        But just as they Ended the short break they’d decided to take before starting the setup for said Sabbat Ritual, the menfolk were somewhat startled by hearing voices in the distance. The fact that the majority of the approaching voices sounded distinctly masculine were of particular concern to them, and they all nodded to each other as they grabbed their weapons. As they stealthily moved into the Woods that surrounded the homestead, they Silently agreed that whoever’d thought to sneak up on them weren’t gonna like the greeting they got, instead.

        “Halt!” Lachlan ordered just as his son-in-law-to-be readied himself to charge.

        “Whaddaye mean, halt?” Murtagh called out from where he’d taken up a position behind the party they were confronting.

        “Do what ye will wi’ the others, but leave the ones in the deep blue plaids be,” he answered, sheathing his sword and dirk as he stepped outta his hiding place.

        Confused, the pair of Fraser men somewhat reluctantly followed his lead, sheathing their own weapons as they stepped out.

        “Dè thug sibh fad na slighe chun an t-Saoghail Ùr, bhalaich?” the Elvin patriarch queried of the group’s leader, his tone an odd mixture of Curiosity and reprimanding. “Tha coir agad a bhith riaghladh Fearann, Saibhreas, agus gnothaichean Chlann Morgan annam!”

        “Tha thu gòrach, Athair, ma tha thu a’ smaoineachadh gum fuiricheadh mi an Alba airson a h-uile càil a chall às deidh an Lèirsinn a bh ’agam an àite a h-uile dad a b’ urrainn dhomh a thoirt leam gus a dhol còmhla ris a ’chòrr de mo theaghlach,” said leader retorted, bringing him up short.

        “Lèirsinn–dè an sealladh?” Lachlan asked, his complexion suddenly paling a bit.

        “Tha cogadh a’ tighinn a dh’Alba, Athair,” he answered. “Tha sglèat aig na Breatannaich airson buannachadh, agus cha mhòr a h-uile Albannach caillidh mi a h-uile dad a th’ aige–a’ toirt a-steach a choir air a bhreacan a chaitheamh le Pròis.”

        Even Jamie’s face paled dangerously at the mere Thought. “’Tis Culloden ye speak of, aye?”

        The newcomer’s gaze jerked to him, his eyes wide with surprise since he hadn’t realized he could understand him.

        “Aye, I’ve the Gàidhlig,” he told him. “And iffen ye speak of which I think ye do, I already ken about that, too.”

        “Yer sister warned him that he and another of his clansmen’d fall in the Blàr Chùil Lodar,” the Elvin patriarch explained. “He decided he’d rather survive–that and the price on his head–by joining us here in the New World.”