Merrlyn......

 

“You could have told me earlier that you were coming.” The figure huddled over the fireplace, using the iron poker to move the stones. “I would have prepared for you some meals. The cuy (guinea pig) salted tasted as good with the heated stones stuffed. I had it bred for the meat.”

"It reminds you of cooking over the brimstones, but the meat is less tender.” The voice came from the other side of the area. “I will pass on the offer, but I brought you some ale to your liking. The olde Saxon brew.”

“Mead? I have not had that for ages.” The figure stood up from the fireplace and then turned to look at the source of the voice. “Mead is not easily available here. Here we drink Chicha Morada mostly.”

“A fascinating drink made from purple corn.” The other figure was added. “I learned about the traditions of the inhabitants here. But tell me more about the rug. I thought the mountain cougar was a protected species.”

“It was dead at my doorstep when I saw it. I did not kill it, but the meat was served on my table soon after.”

“You were not one to give up on any opportunities.” The other figure was added.

Notes:

Yes, I am trying to get into the flow, of writing, circumventing the daily chores of life's works. It keeps my hands busy and not movijng elsewhere; pleasant journey there but I find writing more ....... climatic will be the better term.

And yes, I loved to re-hash Merlin/Arthur/ Round Knights/ the Angels and of course the insufferable Lucifer tales. This one will be different....I hope. God forgive me, I have redefine how the Angels are perceived here. It's like how SUPERMAN and SPIDERMAN get re-write their origins by different writers.....

It was an earlier unfinished tale, now editing and hoping to clear it off the archive soon. 

Till then. Tally Ho.

The Highland Tale; The King Act One Scene Two Sub Act Three

 

THE BATTLE

ACT ONE

SCENE TWO

SUB ACT THREE

 

“General, you must not move. I am trying to...” The Healer cautioned the general, who was on the gurney. The healing station was packed with the wounded, while many more were taking their turns outside.

“I am fine, Healer. Tend to those who are more in need.” MacBeth pushed himself off the gurney. His wounds were many, but none were fatal. He staggered out of the healing station and met Banquo outside. The Colonel rushed towards the General to offer his assistance.

“You must rest, MacBeth. The battles can be fought without us for now.”

“Sully your thoughts, Banquo. We are both soldiers to battle the King’s war.” MacBeth then saw the trophy of his battle. “Who hung the head of MacDonels on the stake?”

“The others... I will have it removed." Banquo addressed the general.

“It is... unwise to remove it. Let the head be a sign to all that those who defile me will share the same fate.” MacBeth pushed onto the command centre. Once he was seated on the usual seat there, he asked for the reports.

“General, Sir. The Irish are routed, and the Hebrides retreated.” The adjutant gave the brief. “But the new threat had emerged. The Norwegians are massing on the front line.”

“The Danes... Never one to ignore the chance to sink their fangs onto us, huh?”” MacBeth roared out. “Argh….”

“Your stitches are open.” Banquo held the general up. “Get the Healer.”

“Spare me your concerns, Banquo. You are more like my Nan nowadays. I have survived on more dire wounds.”

“Yes, General, but then you were younger.” Banquo sighed. “Do look at yourself far ahead. You could be... ”

“A King perhaps? Narry that thought, Banquo. I am his servant and shall remain as one.”

“Sir, the Norwegians are...” The adjutant had returned with more reports.

“Aye, the Norwegians...” King Duncan cut in on the Sergeant’s narrative. “

“Just as terrible storms and dreadful thunder come right when the sun rises, so did new trouble arise from what had seemed to be our triumph.” The King looked at the entourage. “Listen, all of the Highlands. Listen: As soon as we defeated those Irish soldiers and sent them running, the Norwegian King spied an advantage and began a new assault with fresh soldiers and sharpened weapons. The battle is a whore that is never short of in its supply of the desired.”

"Was... did the General...” Prince Duncan held a care for his cousin.

“He is well, my Prince.” The sergeant read the prince’s thoughts. “He is too tough to stay down.”

“We are all.” King Duncan roared out.

“Let no one feel intimidated. A mouse, when cornered, fears not the cat. A sparrow could trouble the eagle on its nest, or a rabbit could scare a lion, though they make nice rabbit stew.” Those last words made the wounded laugh.

“To be honest, they were like cannons loaded with double charges of gunpowder. They fought this new opponent with double their earlier ferocity. Perhaps they wanted to bathe in the blood of their enemies’ wounds or make that battlefield as infamous as Skara Bae. "Yes, your bloodline may have originated from there.”

Skara Brae is a stone-built Neolithic settlement located on the Bay of Skaill on the west coast of Mainland, the largest island in the Orkney archipelago of Scotland.

“I feel weak." The sergeant mumbled weakly.

“Healer, get to his pains now.” Prince Duncan reacted like any concerned patron of the infirm.

“Your Highness., you have new attendees.” The adjutant announced.

The Highland Tale; The King Act One Scene Two Sub Act Two

 

THE GENERAL

ACT ONE

SCENE TWO

SUB ACT TWO

 

The officer pondered over the reports that reached the command centre. He was a fine officer with years of service to his credit, having fought in the battles for the King, but that was one moment when he dreaded Thinking of the outcome. He had seen defeat and victory, but at that moment, he was unsure.

“Corporal, has the General seen the reports?” The officer asked the infantry assigned to the task of relaying the reports. The officer was an elderly man dressed in infantry fatigue and had on his side arms. He held the electronic tablet with the display of the reports on the front line.

“I am unsure, sir." The corporal, a young recruit who was promoted on the battlefield, looked around for the senior officer.

“I think he did; for last, I saw he was rushing out to battle.”

“What? When was this?” The officer looked at the other. “Why was I not told?”

“Sir, you were reading the reports then. I had...” The corporal was shoved aside by the office, who had rushed to meet the general. The moment he reached outside of the command centre, he was surrounded by the movement of the infantry with the wounded to the healing centre, while newly injected recruits were moved to the front line.

“We are in a hopeless situation. Neither of us can move forward or retreat.” An officer stood there and made that remark. “We must...”

“Lieutenant, hold your misgivings. Have you seen the general?" The officer who has just left the command centre called out.

“General?” The junior officer stammered when he saw the other officer addressing him. “General? General MacBeth? I think he went to the front line. I was...”  

Meanwhile, at the front line, General MacBeth dug in at the trench next to the other infantry units and looked to the sergeant who was leading the recruits.

“General, Sir. We are...” The sergeant took the time to provide the update then.

“You are not dead yet, Sergeant. That means you can still fight.” General MacBeth peeked over the top. He was neither young nor elderly, but his years of fighting had doubled. He was in infantry fatigue and carried the sabre that marked his seniority.

“The MacDonels are a strong foe to challenge. Once our ally, now our enemy.” The general looked at the opposing side, which had stalled his infantry.

“Aye, the MacDonels held villainous qualities and are the ones you cannot trust to be at your back.” The officer who followed the general to the front line gave his assessment. His name was Banquo, Colonel by rank, and he spent the same number of years fighting with MacBeth. They were both from the recruiting school and had fought in the same battles over those years. He was assigned to the General as the Senior Staff Attache, but the reckless attitude of the General had made him ‘an ally worthy at my side’ with the General.

“I would not curse on my Highlanders, Banquo.” MacBeth was of a different clan among the Highlanders, and he refused to defile the bravery of the clans. “We have our differences, but they are mine in blood. It is the others who influence them to fight us.”

“Darned the Irish’s. and those Hebrides. They are the lackeys of the enemy to fight us.” MacBeth roared out before he looked at the sergeant. “Do you want to die today as a Highlander or as a defeated lad of the hills?”

“We will die for the clan, sir." The sergeant replied. He then called on the recruits. “Heave on, lads. The battle would not end until we won.”

“MacBeth ….” Banquo addressed the general by his name. “Should we not wait for the armoured...”

The general was past holding back then and was the first to charge over the trench. His action spurred the infantry to follow suit. The swarm of soldiers, led by their brave general, rushed across the stretch of land to meet the enemy. It was the Irish’s pride not to be waiting for the fight; they took to their charge, then onto the infantry. Both sides met at the stretch, and the bloody fight was to be done. The blasters were discarded, with both sides resorting to brute strength, blades, or whatever their hands could reach. It was too grisly to mention, but the one factor that stood out was the general.

“The Citadel will be ours!” MacBeth, covered in blood over his fatigue, was relentless with his sword, slashing at every step of the fight.

“Over my dead body, laddie.” The call was heard by MacBeth then. He turned to look and saw his adversary standing there, holding the axe, with a vicious smile.

“Allen MacDonel, the devious weasel that ever crawled out of your mam wee womb. You never knew your dad at all.” MacBeth cursed at the other, once his ally and friend, before the other betrayed the cause.

“I may not know him but you did not of your mother. Was she a whore as manty had said?” Allen MacDonel snapped back.

“At least she was a lady and not a sheep who birthed you.” MacBeth slammed back.

“Cursed all you want, MacBeth, but your blood will soak the land today.”

The battle was brief but intense before MacBeth sank his sword into the other, halving the head from the left shoulder. The adversary of his fell to the knees with a grin on the face.

“I am glad it was you, MacBeth. We are the same murderous weasels of the Highlands.”

“Finest act of my cousin.” The sergeant was interrupted by the prince, who praised the general.

“A fine laddie there, my nephew.” King Duncan added to the praise. “Do continue, Sergeant. Your news is a pleasant one to my ears.”

Much Thanks to LitChart for the guide

 Credit to https://www.litcharts.com/shakescleare/shakespeare-translations/macbeth

And to Ben Florman. Ben is a co-founder of LitCharts. He holds a BA in English Literature from Harvard University, where as an undergraduate he won the Winthrop Sargent

Thank you 

The Highland Tale; The King Act One Scene Two Sub Act One

 

THE HEALER

ACT ONE

SCENE TWO

SUB ACT ONE

 

The King arrived with a retinue of guards and servants. The entry was without his accompanying guards, which would have crowded the already packed healing station. However, the King was not without his servants, which comprised the senior officers, the adjutants, and more officers. All of them, including the King, were dressed in military fatigue and carried side arms. Of course, the guards carried their rifles, and the men in suits stationed outside were fully armed.

“Scram them the unneeded.” The King called out when he met the entrance. “I do not think we need more healthy ones for the wounded.”

The entourage was reduced to the few that were close to the King, and the so-called healthy ones were made to go outside. The inside of the station comprised the on-duty seven Healers, twelve attending assistants, and two dozen wounded officers. There were three maintenance crews that were removing the discarded man-suits or unrecoverable officers.

“Who is this bloody man? From the looks of him, he was in the thick of the battle. He will not be...” The King stood by the officer that was removed from the man-suit and placed on a gurney for the Healer to do the needed recovery.

“Captain Ian Kintock, Squad Leader.” The Healer spoke out while he was applying the incision to the chest of the dying officer. “Your Highness.”

“Noted, Healer. Carry on with the recovery. We need officers like him alive and.”

“Trying my best, Your Highness.” The tone of sarcasm tinged in the words of the Healer.

“Hold your tone, Healer.” The one who reacted to the sarcasm was the King’s son, Malcolm. He was stopped by the King, who held up his right hand.

“Continue on, Healer. I will move on.” The King moved forward to another. “Aye, who is he?”

The one lying on the gurney was wounded in the chest and right leg. He still had one of his jackets, and the insignia was that of the Infantry Unit.

“Cougar Company. He is Sergeant McCauley. He is my... second at the first squad." Malcom stepped up to the wounded non-com officer. “He was wounded, saving my squad. Brave man.”

“Aye, the very person I was told to see.” The King smiled and moved towards the wounded hero. ‘I am King Duncan of the Highlands.”

“Your Highness…” The wounded sergeant moved to sit up but was calmed by the King to lie back.

“You are fine as you are. A brave man needs not bow before me.” King Duncan smiled. “More so when he’s my son’s saviour.”

“And all of you here are brave men. And women.” King Duncan addressed all at the station. The army of the Highlands was mixed, with no gender deprived of a deserving ranKing.

“Tell me, Sergeant. How do you fare?” King Duncan returned his attention to the wounded non-combat officer.

“I am better now, Your Highness.” The sergeant drew a faint smile. “Is the …”

“Malcom is fine. He had some bruises, but he will live.” King Duncan cut in. “I have more injuries being King than him.”

The entourage there laughed, leaving Malcolm uncomfortable. The King then asked.

“How fared the battle?” It was a crucial question, and he needed to know from the ones there and not the ones reporting. “Speak freely, Sergeant.”

“Aye, your Highness...” The non-com uttered.

 

Yes, i am back

Pardon for the long hiatus from here. I was caught up with many issues at work, health and .....creativity of the mind. It was all blank in my dreams and writing. I spent most times, taking care of the above and reading. And here I am back now. 

Why the Scottish tale? It was a challenge to take on this tale. I had read many articles of the tale, and was honestly put off to do the write for some time. It was early April when I decided to to key in the first lines. And from there to today, it's done the first cut. 

And the added twist to the end. 

Please enjoy the read 

Will I continue writing..... I guess so....once I read what a novelist said; all you need to do is to keep on writing whether it's one word or a line, the words and lines will multiply soon enough. 

I will do so.

Cheers

The Highland Tale; The King Act One Scene One Sub Act Two

 

THE HEALER

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

SUB ACT TWO

 

In every battle, there will be casualties among the participants. It may be a mechanized unit like the man-suits, but dwelled in those were the human interfaces. The wounded will be retrieved by the Healers and brought to the healing centres, where their lives will be given the proper treatment to rejuvenate or removed to be replaced with the other, more suitable components.

“Who brought in this man-suit?” The senior Healer called out with his hands covered by the grim leftovers of the previous patient. “I am a Healer, not a man-suit maintenance personnel.”

The short figure of Senior Healer was covered by the red overall that covered his frame, and mounted on the back of the Healer was the droid unit that clung onto the frame with its six extended limbs to assist the Healer in the recovery. With the drone activated on the Healer, the figure resembled a spidery creature with its automated extended limbs.

“We apologize, Healer. The man suit was brought in by their mates. The ….” The assistant Healer was trying to appease the senior.

“So bloody well, move the man suit to the retrieval unit." The senior Healer called out. “I have my arms full with the ones that needed recovery.”

“Healer, the other man-suit needs your expertise.” The assistant called out while motioning to the other man-suit standing upright at the side.

“About time, I was told.” The senior Healer stepped towards the other man-suit. The droid went into action with two of its limbs reaching out to activate the release function on the man-suit. The man suit was short of its right upper limb, and the chest appendage was damaged. Its left lower limb was damaged, but it was still standing upright. The chest appendage will not detach, and the droid two’s extended limbs took to pry it open. The force of the extended limbs managed to remove the chest plate, and the wounded human was sighted.

“Give me a scan.” The Healer called out. The droid's other left extended limb appeared at the chest to take a scan of the human figure. The results of the scan were fed to the droid, which then interfaced with the Healer through the interface connection at the base of the rear neck.

“Apply what is needed and get the human out of the suit.” The Healer completed his diagnosis while the earlier extended droid limbs continued the removal of the man-suit.

“Healer, will my captain survive?” The Healer heard the plea of another man standing there. The human inside the man-suit had removed the headpiece then.

“Son, your... who?” The Healer turned to look at the man who asked.

“Captain Ian, Squad Leader, Rusty Rust.” The one who asked replied. “He is our commanding officer.”

“Well, son. He will live once we replace his breathing, his lungs, and his liver. He is...”

“Thank you, Healer. Thank you, Sir.” The man-suit who asked shed a tear then. “We will remove Rust One now. I do not think...”

“Son, unless you can replace his face and brain, I doubt we are concluding that fact, Rust, that his name is dead.” The Healer cut in. “Now leave me alone to do my healing.”

“The King is here!” The roar of the sentry could be heard then.

 

The Highland Tale; The King Scene One Act One Sub Act One

 THE CITADEL

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

SUB ACT ONE

 

The battle scene around the citadel was not a distraction inside its walls. The citadel loomed high above the structures of the city with its higher walls and windowless surface. The walls formed a barrier that locked out any sight of its interior. With the destruction outside, not a dent or scratch was inflicted on the citadel. It was a circular structure that was like a cauldron in design from the outside, but with a difference: there was a doorway on the side and high-designed doors. The only ones allowed in were by invitation, which was rare.

No one knew who the inhabitants were inside.

Perhaps rodents knew, but then it did not cause any evacuation, although the noise of the destruction was around.

“When shall we have silence and solitude?” The sound that mimicked the words of humans responded to the constant pounding outside the walls of the citadel.

“When the mayhem subsides, for it will mean a victor and the other the defeated.” Another voice was heard with a slight difference in tone.

“Alas, we should not be affected. How could we be? We are bathed by sunlight or the moon, but silence is what we require." The first set of voices resonated.

“There will be a set of suns. Well, at least the heat will give us some solace with the solar panels.” Another third voice made its presence known. “The power gauges are low there.”

“Solar? We have other sources to rely on.” The first voice quipped in.

“It precludes the rodents from having to remain in the conduits and chewing at the panels.” The third sound retorted. “It would be signalled to me to do the remedial actions.”

“The mayhem will end soon.” The second voice snapped on. “The volume of destruction had dwindled in the...”

“Of when? And where? I have no... " The first voice intercepted the call.

“The General comes.” The second voice resonated. “The end is nigh. The conclusion within the …”

“The concluding factor? Will he appear here?” The first voice raised the query.

“He will.” The second voice was heard. “Behold my conclusion. I need to check my assessment again. Graymalkin Query held many possible concluding points. Like the Cheshire Analysis.”

“Well, I will not conclude that that will affect my toad tallies." The first voice was added. “The draw of humanity depends on the complexities of the abstract, but there will be a conclusion. They called it fate.”

"Conclusions... all is in the numbers, fair or foul; we shall not need to know, but the results will be as clear as the conclusions; be it for them to accept... or not.” The third voice was heard before silence once again permeated the walls there.

The Highland Tale; The King Act Zero Scene One

 

THE KING

Hero or Villain

THE HIGHLANDS

Adaption of the Scottish Tale

 

Jimmy Loong

April 9^th, 2024

First Cut

May 3^rd 2024

 

It’s nice to be back writing again. If there is a tale to be re-told, this will be the one that needs to be done.

 

 

 

 

 

THE LAND

ACT ZERO

SCENE ONE

 

“Move the armour sections out!” The call was made. The mechanized Man-Suit, taller than most men by twice their height, moved its heavy-laden frame from the covers of the trenches. The huge frame designed by humans held a more grotesque design with the three upper movable contraptions that resembled the arms, of which one was at the chest of the suit, but all three contraptions held blaster guns at the tips. The suits powered by the human interface stood inside the heavy suit, manipulating the suit’s contraption as it moved into battle.

“Squad Four, move to the right, and outflank the enemies.” The leader of Squad Four heard the call and moved its frame to the right side. The lower part of the suit was the two contraptions that acted like the legs of the suit, but the difference was that at the side of the outer thighs was the mounted blaster that was shooting ahead, fed by the projectile belt linked to the rear case on the back of the suit. The five blasters were a devastating force that would clear the path ahead.

“High on, Leader.” One of the members of Squad Four roared out while moving to the right of the leader.

“Move it, Rust One. I will not have you cowering behind me.” The leader roared back at the new recruit, who was pacing the length to the right. “Rust Three and Four, move to flanking, and cover...”

The communication was snapped off by the sight of Rust One getting disseminated by the enemy’s blast that took the headpiece of the man suit. 

“Rust one down!” The squad leader did not hear that call from the others, for it was in clear view of the leader. Rust One stood there without the head piece like a lightning-struck tree trunk, and before more could be done, more shots were seen to tear off the three upper contraptions before the next blast took its impact on the rear case and ignited the man suit.

Squad Four was down by one man, but the heavy armoured units were needed to be at the forefront of the battle. The remaining four men took to the road with their heavy powers, closing the gap toward the enemy line.

The troopers of the Infantry Sections, less in the armour but equally deadly with their hand phasers, were on the rear of the man-suits. The third platoon of troopers, reduced to half their strength, roared their battle cries in their charge. They made some distance before they had to sink into the covers.

“Third Platoon, move on!’ The leader of the platoon called out’ injured in the left arm was doing the part required in the assault. “We cannot falter now. We cannot fail now. The Citadel will be ours.”

It was the rally call for the platoon to charge at the enemy regardless of their casualties.

Tweet...tweet... I am sincerely grateful....24/7

 I have not been posting as mentioned earlier but I have visited my blog and saw the new numbers of hits. I am sincerely grateful for that and will do my best to return here...

I am finding my new footing and will resume soonest. 

Do take care and above all, read on. 

Cheers

Tweet...Tweet.... Rest in need... 22/5/2023

 These are my last posts for now...I am in need of rest and recuperation. I had not penned any complete tales for over six months now.... two tales are in the write but stopped as I am ...not in my creative mind. I have to stop for now. Other precedents took priority in me. 

Once I read an article by a writer that says, continue a word or more every day it will come naturally the tale.... I did with short passages, to the one liner and then the single tap... but it's not for now. 

Well, let me gather my words in my mind, and soon come back to here. 

Take care.