The Flames of Wrath
by
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"Let's have a turn at the Basset tonight, for I've just had my pay and I feel that luck is with me”, said Glenlyon. His the hope to tap into the vein of gold all gamblers dream of. So, it was agreed. For the first time, in nights, they would use all fifty two cards, each man to be dealt a full hand of thirteen, unlike Ombre, which was played without the sevens, eights and nines of every suit. There was a heightened tension in the room, greater than at any time they had played Ombre, for the risk, in the game, was considerable, for great losses or great gains might occur. With the run of the cards and having the nerve, if Soissante was achieved, the fifth win on the same card, without the player having taken previous payment, on it, it would yield a return of sixty seven times the original wager, the highest possible win. Advantage lay with the Talliere, the Banker, who has the sole disposal of the first and last card, which gives a much greater prospect of winning. The cut gave Glenlyon the Bank, but adroitly MacIain had soon become Talliere. Hand after hand they went on, through the evening. With care Iain and Alasdair were able to keep their loses to a minimum, but, Glenlyon had amassed a not inconsiderable pot of twenty nine guineas, which, both sons felt, their father was biding his time to acquire. Claret and brandy flowed, which, together with his winnings, put Glenlyon in a jovial mood. Unexpectedly, there was a loud hammering at the door which caused the deerhounds to bark. A soldier entered. His face was blue with cold and there was snow on his boots. His eyes found Glenlyon, whom he saluted. “Urgent despatches for you Sir, brought by a rider from the Fort. You are to open and read them at the soonest opportunity”. Rising from his seat the Officer-Commanding, in extreme haste, with a muttered apology, threw his cards down and was off out of the door. The cards fell face down, all save one on which the red rhomboids seemed to throb and pulse in the flickering candlelight, like scarlet droplets of fresh blood shed on a ground of white. It was the nine of diamonds An awful coldness settled about Alasdair's heart, the hair on his forearms came erect. The chill gripped him within and without, as only ice can do, freezing his spirit. The cold in the room clutched at him. All of his fears coalesced. A sense of impending disaster bore down on him. Unbidden the words of Angus Taish flowed into his mind. "Tell Mac Iain that, when the white shroud of the snow is on the ground, he should have a care, of him, who had held the nine of diamonds in his hand”.
Unnoticed, the neglected pile of abandoned coins caused restless, ochreous, shadows to ebb and flow across the surface of the table. Outside a ravenous wind rose relentlessly, steadily increasing; at first with a low, surly growl, whining in the gullies, gathering strength, until it blew with full force, insistent, fierce, filled with latent power and bearing snow.
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About the Book
Nowhere on the face of the earth is more fitted, than the evocative, mountain-thirlled trench of the valley of Glencoe, to witness the deeds it has seen. A placeof awesome grandeur, deep sadness, and soaring joy; said to have been hewen from the earth with one mighty slash of the Devil's tail. Zealots and bigots walked the land. Religious strife rent the Kingdom. This, the Establishment countered with harsh new laws and armed force. Bloody Claverhouse started out on his military career, rising through the ranks of the army like a shooting star. On the river of time the aspirations, ambitions and needs of two men collided; the new King William III, and the other, one of the foremost legal brains in Scotland and also its most powerful politician. On the loom of Fate King William and the Master of Stair spun their web. To both was the prime need of the pacification of the turbulent Highlands, which were peopled by warriors, whose only allegiance was to their Clan Chief. How best to achieve this end? By bribery? By force of arms? By the subtle manipulation of human weaknesses? Each Clan was fiercely autonomous; the very core of its being. It was self contained by differences of race, its age old customs and religious persuasion. Feuds were perpetuated by the slaying of enemies, by acts of arson and the theft of cattle. The hills and the glens of the North were a loaded powder keg. Would someone strike the spark to ignite the fuse that would unleash the all consuming flames of wrath?
About the Author
The Author was born in Hong Kong, of Scottish parents, returning to Scotland at age three. His education took place in Falkirk, Central Scotland. Subsequent to this he studied in Stoke-on -Trent, England and took a degree in Ceramics.Following this he returned to Falkirk to work in Engineering, later switching into the Petro-Chemical field, until retirement. During his life he has visited most parts of the World, with the exception of South America, Antartica and the Artic. Every part of Scotland has been visited, with particular attention having been paid to the various locations the book treats on. Over tyhe years he has written short stories, but this is his first full length novel. He continues to live in the Falkirk area with his wife. He has three children and nine grand children.