This barbaric story from long-forgotten times sounded unreal and out of place in the Victorian elegance of Eli Podgram's London townhouse salon. But Eli devoted his full attention to it, sitting with his head bent, which made the peculiar white cross in his hair even more noticeable. It was a sign that owed its origin to a no less terrible night than the one in the great hall of Castledoom.
"As we tell it in Glen," Ewan MacGlennie continued with a slight Highland accent, "my ancestor forced his wife, who was being held by Fergus and Angus, to strip naked in front of Duncan Og.
They say she was a very beautiful woman and judging by the portrait sketch that exists of her, that's likely true. She was also extremely modest and demure, as were the ladies of the Highlands at that time.
The shock, it's said, confused her mind. She burst into hysterical laughter, until Rory struck her in the face and she collapsed onto the stone floor. Then he turned to Duncan Og.
'Look at her well, Duncan Og,' he growled. 'For never again will your eyes behold another man's wife.'
The contrast between the refined setting and the brutal story is striking, and Eli's attention is fully absorbed by the tale. The white cross in his hair serves as a reminder of a dark past, and the story itself is a testament to the brutal and unforgiving nature of the Highland laird, Rory MacGlennie.
"They say that Duncan Og started screaming afterwards, but I think he was too paralyzed by shock to make a sound.
He was no warrior, but a scholar, and had never been exposed to such brutality before. The laird raised his knife, the Skean-Dubh, and blinded the young man. In my opinion, it was then that Duncan Og screamed. But they say he only exclaimed: 'The darkness, oh, this darkness. It has descended upon me.'"
Rory shook with laughter, and the raven cawed loudly and shrilly, hopping back and forth on its owner's shoulder.
"Take him to the gate!" the laird commanded. "Throw him out, so that he may wander aimlessly and suffer deeply. Let people know that MacGlennie's property is not for others, neither his herds nor his castle nor his wife."
Eli discreetly studied the other man. Ewan MacGlennie was a tall, handsome man of about thirty. He wondered what the visitor was trying to achieve with this ancient tale and what he expected from him, the specialist. But he didn't interrupt.