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"Aye, my laird, I pledge to you my life. My duty is to the Chattan and my loyalty is to the Laird Errol, my laird."

After Iver, it was Donnan who rose next as he made his way to kneel before the laird.

"Aye, my laird, I pledge to you my life. My duty is to the Chattan and my loyalty is to the Laird Errol, my laird."

After the last pledge of each of the former McColl had been spoken, Iver guided the Highlanders to a nearby table where all of the clansmen took a tankard of wine.

Together, the men raised their glasses as they made a silent hail to their new laird.

It was Iver who spoke loudly and firmly before all.

"Long live the Chattan!"

After the first drink of wine had been taken, Iver spoke loudly once again.

"Long live Laird Errol!"

"Long live our laird!"

"Aye!"

A loud cheer echoed within the gathering hall signifying the end to the formal ceremony. All had pledged themselves and now those of the McColl were no more. Their lives had been forever changed and their loyalties, were now to the Chattan.

*****

It was late and although the drinks flowed heavily, the celebratory meal was long since over even though they all remained seated at the table.

Iver was pleased with how the evening had progressed and there were no signs of aggression as had been felt in recent days upon the field.

He knew in his heart their pledges of loyalty were the first step towards fortifying the Chattan and the most important one if he were ever to be successful in his quest for a unified clan.

Iver turned and spoke to Donnan under his breath and only when he was assured no one else was listening.

"Well, my friend, it is done. Have you any regrets?"

"None, Iver. But while the colors we now wear are the same as the others, I am uncertain much has changed. Even though no words have been recently spoken, I can feel the unrest in the air."

"I feel it, too. Even now, the looks we receive are not warm and inviting. I am afraid it will take much time and effort to bring any semblance of peace here amongst our own."

"Regardless, I have faith in you, Iver. I just hope we are granted such time before someone like the Fraser attack with more force than they have as of late. I fear if they were to bring their entire armies down upon us, I am not so certain how we would fare."

Iver nodded his head in agreement for his cousin and closest friend was not only very loyal but also wise.

"Yes, we have much preparation ahead of us."

As he moved his gaze over to the Laird Errol who sat on his other side and then back across the clansmen before him, he had to admit he was satisfied with what he saw.

His trusted brothers from the McColl now sported the dark green plaid of the Chattan.

He knew with certainty they would be loyal and never stray from their duty.

Of this, he was certain. He only wished he had such confidence in all the rest of the Chattan clansmen.

As Iver took another draught of ale, he watched with interest as the one he knew as Philomena drew near to the table. Slowly, she walked to the laird's side and placed her hand upon his shoulder. She said nothing and stood as if patiently waiting.

It was not long and the laird reacted. Slowly, he stood and without words, he moved from where he had sat. While he did not touch her further, side by side he and Philomena walked across the room where they finally ascended the stairs together.

"Holy hell!"

Iver watched in incredulity at such a bold move. While they did not intentionally draw any awareness to themselves, it was obvious where they were going.

When they moved beyond the darkened landing and were no longer visible, Iver's eyes drifted down the table and onto the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had been watching his reaction and together their eyes locked in that moment and she did not move nor react.

Gwyn had sat next to the Laird Errol the whole of the evening and never once had he spoken to her.

When he had risen and exited the chamber with Philomena, she had been watching Iver's reaction closely.

When at long last, he settled his gaze upon hers after the Laird Errol had disappeared into the dark of the eve, she held his stare for a moment.

Then ever so slowly, she averted his gaze.

She could not bear the disgrace she knew was hers.

While none of her laird's actions were new to her, wordlessly, her husband had declared before all his intentions and his preferences.

It was clear they did not include any kindness towards her.

While he had arrived in the gathering hall with his wife, it was clear to whom he chose to depart and the one in which would share his bed.

Slowly and so as to not have to endure the pain any longer, Gwyn lifted her chin and she stood tall from the table.

She understood in her heart she could gaze no further at Iver knowing she could not bear to see the pity that would be declared upon his face.

Or any from the newest members of the Chattan.

Without looking upon any of those still within the great chamber, she took the hand of Durell and made her way up the stairs for the night.

Gwyn never looked back but had a complete understanding of the questioning gazes that were boring heavily through her.