The Cave of the Heads

Sitting in a dark cave, we all wonder what became of Sir Fitzroy, our Clan’s chief. Sir Fitzroy was leading us into battle against the retched Macdonald Clan rebels who dared to defy the Lord of the Isles and before we knew it, they had over-powered us. Now we are stranded here and our Chief is no where to be found.

My name is John Black, a member of the Maclean Clan of Duart. I, along with forty and nine others of my Clan, am stuck in this cave, not knowing if we’ll ever get home to Duart Castle. My guess is that we’re somewhere on the mainland of Scotland and that across the vast body of water that we face, is our home, the Isle of Mull.

Someone sits down next to me and whispered, “Can you believe this? We’re stranded here and I’ll guarantee that no one will come a rescue us.”

“I wish we had died in the battle,” I muttered. “Then we could have died with honor like our brothers.”

“And we wouldn’t be stranded here,” the man who sat next to me added.

Glancing in the direction of the mouth of the cave, a wave of sadness washed over me. My older brother, Iain, had died in the battle with the rebels. I saw him fall over the side of our ship, a spear stuck in his chest. Knowing that my brother was dead left me feeling desolate and alone. Since I was a child, I had always looked up to Iain as my guide and inspiration. He’d been patient with me when he taught me about swordsmanship, unlike our temperamental father who thought that I was a failure.

Shaking my mind to clear it, I noticed that something had changed. Looking around, I saw that all of the men were still there and that the sun was still setting outside, giving the water a red hue. I was still sitting at the back of the cave, near a small bunch of dry plants that somehow grew down here. Suddenly, the air grew thicker and I coughed. After blinking several times, it realized that the air was heavy with smoke!

Whipping around, I saw that the plants had been set on fire. Leaping away from the burning plants, I shouted, “Fire!”

The other men heard me and after seeing the burning plants, started to panic. I started to run towards the front of the cave, but the smoke was so thick that I couldn’t see a thing. I dropped into a low crouch, remembering what Iain had told me to do if I was ever in a fire. As I inched towards the front of the cave, I heard an odd noise. It sounded like a scream that had been cut short.

That was when I heard the voices of the men outside. I called out, hoping that they would help me.

“There is one still alive!” one of the men shouted. I stopped dead in my tracks when I realized that I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Go in there and kill him!” another instructed.

“You will never get me in there, Leod!” the first exclaimed.

“We can’t go in there!” someone else said. “The smoke is too thick.”

That was when I realized that something horrible had happened; the rebels had found us. 'I just have to stay calm,' I thought. 'If I stay in here, they can’t get me. Of course, I could be burned to death.'

As I tried to figure out what to do, I felt my hand brush something. It was a broadsword that one of my comrades had left behind in their panic to get out of the cave. Grasping it tightly in my hands, I worked up my courage and crawled forward. AS I came to the mouth of the cave, I strapped the sword on my back and drew the blade.

The hilt was made of silver metal with black leather wrapped around the handle to avoid the sword from slipping out of the wielders grasp. At the bottom of the handle, the crest of Clan Mclean was etched into the metal and the words, virtue mine honor, arched over the crest like a cat’s back.

I coughed again as I steadily held the blade in my hands. Standing up, I ran forward, shouting a battle cry in a voice that seemed unfamiliar to me. As I came out of the smoke, I swung the sword, but missed my nearest opponent. Before I could recover, one of the rebels slipped behind me and drove a knife into my back. I leaned forward in surprise and the sword fell from my hands. As it clattered to the ground, I fell down onto my knees. I knew in that instant, that I was about to die, but I was ready. As more swords cut into my flesh, I felt strangely at peace with the world. As I took my final breath, I watched the world disappear into darkness.

The place where I died is now called the Cave of the Heads, named after the fifty heads that were found there a few days later by the members of my Clan who had come looking for us. After my death, I found out that the MacDonald Clan rebels had taken our chief to their castle and tortured him to death in their dark, damp dungeons of horror. I do not regret my death and I am content to watch the descendants of my Clan live their lives. Iain feels the same and as we walk the skies together, I know that I truly died with honor in protecting the Lordship of the Isles.