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We are the guards of Lia Fail. Lia Fail is the meaning of our life. In 840 the King of the Scots and Picts, Kenneth MacAlpine, put a big stone on top of Moot Hill in Scone. It was not a simple stone: when the rightful king sat on it, the stone cried and sang. Ordinary people didn't hear the voice of the stone, but we, the children of this land and mountains, we, the Druids, heard it as clearly as other people hear the sound of the wind. At that time the words of the ancient family oath were heard for the first time: "I am from the Clan MacWizard. By earth and water, wind and fire I swear that I'll give my life to protect Lia Fail. No wrong man will ever rule my country. Let the prophecy come true! Fight for the ring! Fight with the ring! Fight in the ring!"
Since then every Scottish king had been crowned in Scone on Lia Fail. It had been called many names: the Stone of Scone, the Stone of Destiny, the Coronation Stone, but we, the guards, always called it Lia Fail. Very few people knew about us, we didn't show our faces at coronation ceremonies, but every time the king sat on Lia Fail, we heard the powerful voice of the stone. It sang a song of glory to our free country.
Ten years ago we, the guards of Lia Fail, let the enemy take it away and... stayed alive.
"Dreaming again, Douglas? You'd better go and get some wood." (Ты бы лучше пошел и собрал немного дров.) Dorell's voice brought me back to reality. I didn't answer, but took my knife and went out of our little cottage in the middle of the forest. In fact, Dorell was my grandfather, but I called him by his name because we had never been close. Maybe a long time ago when I was a child, I loved him, but I don't remember. Ten years ago when I was six, the English came to Scone Abbey to take Lia Fail. All my family had been killed long before that, but Dorell was at the abbey. He is a wizard, he could stop King Edward, I knew it, but he did nothing. He stood and watched as the English king took our stone and carried it away. I can't forgive Dorell for that.
It was a lovely spring day. On a day like this you can easily forget all your troubles, but this was Scotland in the year of Our Lord 1306, a country which had seen nothing but (кроме) war in the last twenty years.
So when I saw a group of armed men, I wasn't surprised. One of them was riding in front of the group. They were Scots and they were in trouble. From where I was I could see another group following them. These were the English and there were a lot of them. I hated the English. They took our land and our castles.
I sighed with relief when the Scots noticed the danger too and ran in different directions. They had hoped to hide in the forest, but their enemies were faster. Five of them attacked the Scots' leader. He was a strong man and fought bravely. Four of the attackers were killed, and the Scot ran into the forest. I ran towards him to help, but when he came closer, I was sorry about my decision. I could clearly see the red and gold coat of arms of Clan Bruce of Annadale. The man in front of me was Robert the Bruce, the most important person in Scotland and the claimant to the Scottish throne. A lot of people loved him and hoped that he could become our leader in the war against the English, but Bruce could never make up his mind. He was half Norman, half Scottish, and his lands in England and in Scotland made him a very rich man. So though he liked to talk about his love for his country, in fact he preferred to wait, watch and be friends with everybody.