Characters and plot copyright. Review so that I know whether to continue.

Thanx -

Prologue: Scotland, 1486

The village elders of Edraedlach were all gathered in the Great Hall. All once brawny lads, most were now in their later years, even older the Cairbre, Laird of Edraedlach who was necessarily old, but he was no strapping lad either. Seated they were just as formidable. The council had been in session well into two hours now, and Laird Cairbre grew weary. One of the clansmen sat restlessly. He wore a loose, white linen shirt with billowing sleeves accompanying his best kilt wrapped about his waist and thrown over his shoulder.

"Ye must name yer heir," the large man said in his deep, rumble of a voice. His thoughts echoed those of the others gathered, but honestly, the laird knew naught what to do about it. Twins. He had legitimate twin sons. Sons that equally deserved to inherit the title of Laird. Shaking his head, he knew they would never understand that. The fathers here, had no inner battles as he did. They did not have the pressure as he did, and they sure as hell did not know how a decision like this, if wrongly made, could tear his family apart.

The laird sighed. "Did ye nae ken what I said only moments ago? I dinnae know which of the bairns came first. I cannae name my heir if I dinnae know that!"

Once more the man spoke. His voice was harsher, more forceful. "And if ye died this night? What will we do? Will ye ken me meaning then? On yer dying bed?"

It was hopeless, utterly hopeless, and yet the wheels in his mind still turned. There could be a way. He doubted seriously the clansmen would agree to it, but it was still a possibility. Yes! It could work, but the boys could never know. No, that would pose too much of a risk for sibling rivalry. Nodding his head, ignoring the murmurs passing through the men about him, the laird knew what he had to do.

Suddenly he stood, his own foreboding presence still evident even through his age. "Mon, I may have yer solution."