Campbell's Reivers follows the story of young Alex Campbell from Scotland to Zeeland and beyond, his life torn between love and duty.
The Neil Grant Site
John listened carefully before congratulating Alex and Davy on the success of their sortie. He could feel the anger of the men growing as they listened to the report from the village. He thought for a moment then spoke, “We must prepare. For we are going to exterminate these cowards tomorrow on the north road. They deserve not to live for their crimes and live they shall not. Firstly we find a place of ambush tonight, position ourselves for the morrow and attack with such surprise that our victory will be as instant as it is complete. Prepare yourselves and we ride to the north.” The troop mounted and they moved off in a northwards direction where they encountered a track leading east, eventually reaching the north road to Riemst about eleven o’ clock.
John and Alex decided on position and plan of attack. They were stationed at a part where the road to the north ran through a glade in the trees. The Scots would line the trees on both sides with all firearms primed for action. No hand-to-hand encounters were to be attempted until all available firearms were used. John would command the west side of the road while Alex took the east, the men divided evenly between the two commands. The chosen site was about three miles north of the village. The trees, which grew here in abundance, would deaden the sounds of firing. About midnight, their muskets and pistols checked, the men started to settle down for the night. The night would be a long one, approaching mid-winter as it was, so the Spanish would not arrive too early, giving the Scots a chance for some fitful sleep.
The idea for this novel came from a number of sources. The chance meeting with a Scout Group from Southern Holland whose Scouts, both boys and girls, proudly wore their group’s ‘Necker’ thinking it was made of colourful, checked cloth. The cloth was a Scottish clan tartan but the Dutch Scouts and their Leaders knew nothing of its history. I apologize now for the many questions around the campfire. The many meetings with the Campbells of Backhills Farm who await publication with anticipation, me remembering Mrs. Campbell’s scones and teas on visits to see gun licenses or monitoring the sheep-dipping, prompted my choice of characters