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A college football player dies while having sex.

Catching the outer channel winds now, the oars were brought in and stowed length-wise along the keel, as the square, indigo coloured sail was raised. The pull of the wind, had waves breaking over the prow in no time, the mist wetting the faces of the marauders on board.

Even with the weight of all the men, the birlinn made great speed in open waters. With the good winds behind them, they made the end of Kerrera quickly and headed east to their first two birlinns on the list, in Loch Feochan. Just as Sloan and the other Fraser's had suspected, the Douglas' and the MacLean's had chosen the nearest ones to save time. The tops of the masts could be seen swaying back and forth gently with the waves, as they sailed closer.

The large fortress stood close to the water's edge, battlements and a high curtain wall provided a commanding view of the loch and a strong defence against attack. The birlinn sailed slowly past, far out in the loch, keeping their invisibility, as they scouted the crenellations for signs of guard movement. Throwing the rudder over gently, they came about and made a closer pass, looking for their plan of attack. The guards moved in counter-rotation to each other about the wall, giving a short window of opportunity, as they passed each other on the far side.

An inlet to the west of the fortress, provided an easy place to pull up and let the first ten men out quietly, their soft, deerskin boots making little noise on the grassy shore. They pushed the birlinn away from the shore and made their way back along the coast towards the fortress. The others sailed back around the isthmus near the mouth and moored in wait on the far side. Should there be any trouble, they were ready to ambush anyone who came after them.

Looking through a clearing, Bruce MacDougall, Andrew's younger brother, scouted the area for signs of the guards keeping watch. After a few minutes, he saw it was safe to approach, the guards making their way around to the rear, on their scheduled rounds. He motioned for the others to follow behind him and with no more than a whisper of a sound, the men made their way to the boats and untied them, pushing them out from the stone pier, into the water and climbing aboard. They quickly and quietly handed the oars out and set them in place, with only a few bumps to make noise. In unison, the men started stroking the oars quietly in the water, to get distance from the shore and into the cover of night, before putting more effort into rowing. It would be dawn, before the guards would notice the boats missing and raise the alarm, their punishment severe for the loss.

When the two boats cleared the point coming out of Loch Feochan, their sails were raised and they were sailing past the others, all hands raised in silent triumph. The main crew set their oars rowing again, getting past the point and raised the sail, silently going past the fortress and further down the loch to the head, to the retrieve the boat at the end. The next two MacLean and three MacDougall members prepared themselves to jump out, while the boat was still moving, allowing the birlinn to turn and get out of sight quickly. A clearing ahead, afforded them a safe landing, as well as making very little noise to alert anyone. As they made for the clearing, the five were over the side, making shore and rolling on the soft grass. Harold MacRae, steering the birlinn, gave a whispered order of, "Oars up," and threw the tiller over, turning the boat slowly, making little noise in the water, before giving the order to row again. They slowly rowed on back up the loch, the sound fading quickly, as the distance was made between them.

The five men travelled along the water's edge in stealth, until they could see the mast, a short distance ahead.

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