by H A CULLEY
Connad looked surprised.
‘You must be a mind reader, Oswald. I have just received a plea from Fiachnae for me to send some warriors to help him recover the Island of Rathlin, which lies between the Mull of Kintyre and Ulster. Let me think about it and come and see me again tomorrow.’
‘Yes, Cyning.’
He left the hall trying to hide his excitement. Of course he would take Eochaid with him; his father could hardly object to him fighting if he was a member of Oswald’s war band. He was already planning on asking the five of his friends who had trained with him to come along. Then his euphoria faded. He still needed to decide what to do about Rònan.
Chapter Five – Rathlin Island
621 AD
When Oswald returned to see Connad, he got a pleasant surprise.
‘It seems that you are in luck, Oswald. I have had a string of young warriors wanting to join you in your venture to help regain Rathlin Island for King Fiachnae. One of them is the helmsman Alaric. I have therefore decided to loan you one of my birlinns, the Holy Saviour. Bring it back in one piece.’
‘My lord, I don’t know what to say. I am most grateful.’
‘Don’t thank me; it’s my young warriors you should be thanking. And Alaric, certainly.’
‘I definitely will.’ He paused. ‘But if Alaric is to be the helmsman, who will be the shipmaster?’
‘Why, you, of course.’
Oswald left the hall stunned. At first he wandered around in a daze, wondering if he’d be up to the responsibility. He had never captained a birlinn before, or any craft, come to that and although he had Alaric – an Angle who had fled with him and his family from Bebbanburg – to help him, he wasn’t sure he’d be up to the task. Then he remembered that Eochaid had brought the birlinn back from Tiree to Coll safely and that he would also be with him.
That reminded him that Eochaid was still in his hut. He would have to smuggle him on board somehow and he would also have to decide what to do about Rònan. He mulled the problem over and prayed to God for inspiration. Suddenly he had a thought and feeling much happier, he made his way back to the hut.
When he got there he found that a large group of young men and a few boys had gathered around the hut and were talking to Rònan, who stood in the doorway protectively. Oswald smiled when he realised that the boy was trying to stop anyone from entering and finding Eochaid inside. Perhaps his idea would actually work.
As soon as they saw Oswald approaching, the men crowded around him, all offering their oaths to follow him if he wanted them. They were bored at Dùn Add, where nothing ever seemed to happen and craved excitement and danger. The Holy Saviour had twenty oars a side, which meant that he needed forty rowers and she could comfortably hold another twenty warriors. With shipmaster, helmsman and a few ship’s boys, she could take a crew of seventy all told. He did a rough calculation and thought that there were perhaps forty young men and a few older warriors who had no family. At first he discounted the few warriors in training, who were between thirteen and fifteen, but then decided he could take the older boys if he couldn’t find any others.
By the end of the day he had signed up sixty men and youths and two of the thirteen year olds as ship’s boys. With Eochaid, himself, his original five friends, all of who wanted to come along and Alaric, he had his seventy. Then he noticed Rònan standing with his head bowed, wondering about his fate.
Eochaid was due to go down to the beach to meet his fisherman after dark and Oswald asked him to take Rònan with him.
‘Sail back to Iona and I’ll collect you from there, Eochaid. If I decide I can forgive you, Rònan, I’ll take you with me too; if I can’t, then you’ll stay and serve the Christian brothers. At least they will treat you a lot better than the men here.’
In truth he wanted to see if Eochaid would forgive the boy and whether Rònan could put his jealousy of Eochaid behind him. If both happened, then he would do his best to trust the boy again.
His next problem was unexpected. Oswiu crept into his hut that evening and said he had come to look after his brother now that Rònan had left. Oswald had no idea how Oswiu knew that his servant had gone, but when he asked him, Oswiu just said that he’d had a dream. It took several days to get the birlinn ready for sea and during that time Oswiu looked after him as Rònan had done. The two brothers got to know each other much better in those few days than they had over the past nine years. Oswald even put his brother through his paces with practice sword and shield and was impressed how quickly he had picked up the basic moves. He decided that he would buy Oswiu a seax as a present before he left.
The young boy was delighted with the gift and had to practice moves with it there and then.
‘Oswiu, put it away now. You need to get on with preparing our meal.’
‘Oh, I won’t need to. Mother wants us to eat with her and the others on our last night here.’
The use of our rather than your puzzled Oswald, because Oswiu would be going back to Acha’s hut to live with Offa and their sister once he’d sailed. He was going to ask him about it, but then Alaric arrived with a question about the ship and he forgot.
Oswald had enjoyed the boy’s company, which had surprised him because most seventeen year olds don’t have a lot in common with boys of nine. Of all his brothers, he realised that he now felt closest to Oswiu.
The next morning he nearly decided to wait another day. It was raining hard and the wind was blowing a gale. However, only the first part of the journey to Iona was difficult and Alaric assured him that he had sailed through the Gulf of Corryvreckan at slack water before and it wouldn’t be the maelstrom it was when the tide was running.
The water still boiled and waves ran in all directions as they crossed between the islands of Jura and Scarba, but there was no whirlpool. After that, it was an exhilarating sail with little excitement until one of the warriors found a stowaway. The crew’s personal gear had been put under the rowing benches or under the platforms at stern and prow. Oswiu had been hiding under a load of cloaks under the stern platform. Oswald took one look at the crestfallen boy and his heart lifted. He would never have taken Oswiu with him; he was far too young and Acha would never have forgiven him. Nevertheless, now that he was here, he was pleased to see his brother.
‘Shall I throw him to the fishes, Oswald?’ Alaric suggested.
‘Good idea.’
Oswiu grinned, thinking that his brother was in jest, but then he screamed in panic when the man who had found him lifted him over the side so that he dangled above the waves, which seemed to lick hungrily at his feet as they crashed against the side of the birlinn.
‘Or we could just leave him on Iona. He’s nearly old enough to become a novice anyway.’
‘You can’t. I’ll just run away.’ Oswiu had recovered his composure once he had been hoisted back onboard and set on his feet again.
‘How? It’s a small island.’
His brother looked so dejected that Oswald was tempted to relent, especially as he admired his pluck in hiding away on board. Besides, he was secretly glad he had done so.
‘Have you thought how worried Mother will be when she discovers that you’re missing?’
‘I told Offa to tell her once we’d sailed; besides, she knows you’ll look after me.’
Oswald sighed. ‘I know I’m going to regret this, but you can join the ship’s boys.’
Oswiu’s face broke into a broad grin.
‘Thank you, Oswald. You won’t regret this.’
‘On the contrary, I’m sure I will. Now, your first task is to climb the mast and let me know when you see land.’
It was something one of the other boys would have had to do soon, but the Ross of Mull and Iona were still some miles away over the horizon and wouldn’t appear for some time yet, even on a clear day – and this day was anything but clear. However, an hour or two sitting in the rain on the spar that carried the mainsail, clinging to the mast as it waved wildly to and fro with the ship’s p
itching and rolling, would soon dampen Oswiu’s enthusiasm for a life afloat.
The motion made Oswiu vomit several times, but he maintained his vigil without complaint and, after spotting land and describing it to Alaric, he descended to the deck with an excited grin on his face.
‘Well done, brother. You’ll do,’ Oswald told him and the boy positively basked in his praise.
Two hours later they gently beached the Holy Saviour below the monastery. The rain had stopped and the wind had eased, but that did little to lift Oswald’s spirits. Now he would find out if Eochaid and Rònan had managed to overcome their differences. Fighting an enemy was far preferable to trying to keep one’s friends happy, he decided.
~~~
In the event it wasn’t a problem. Once they’d cleared the air, Eochaid and Rònan had got on well together. Rònan resumed his duties as Oswald’s body servant and Oswiu was content to be the junior of the three ship’s boys, looking after the crew and doing the simple tasks on board. Just so long as he was with Oswald, he was happy.
The two were able to spend time with their other brothers whilst they were there and Oswald came to the conclusion that, like Osguid, the other two were likely to become monks or priests rather than warriors.
He also visited the infirmary to see Brendan and Aidan and thank them for the care they’d taken of him.
‘You seem to have made a full recovery,’ Aidan smiled.
‘Yes, it took a long time before I lost the stiffness in my side, but now you’d not know I’d been wounded – apart from the six inch scar, that is.’
Just as he was about to take his leave, Oswald turned back to Aidan and asked something he’d been longing to know the answer to.
‘From what you told me about your time with Brother Finnian, I’d half expected to find that you’d gone with him when he left.’
‘I think I want to be a missionary in due course, but I like it here and I’m fulfilling a useful purpose in helping Brother Brendan to heal people.’ Aidan paused and then asked something he’d refrained from mentioning before.
‘You said when you were recovering that your greatest desire was to regain the throne of your father, but now you’re getting embroiled in a war on the other side of the country. Have you reconciled yourself to staying in Dal Riada?’
Oswald didn’t reply immediately.
‘The short answer is no. I will take back Northumbria one day, but it is a job for a mature warrior, not a youth. I need experience in warfare and to build up a reputation before I can hope to succeed. One day I will do it, though and then my mission will be to convert the kingdom to Christianity; but that might be an even bigger battle than getting the crown. I will need help with both.’
~~~
The five brothers had joined the monks and the crew in the small church for a service of prayer before departure the next morning and the abbot blessed the Holy Saviour before she was pushed off the beach to resume her journey to Lough Larne, on the north-east coast of Ireland. They had to row against a headwind for most of the day and consequently made slow progress. By late afternoon they had only reached the south-western tip of the Isle of Islay, so Oswald decided to turn and run before the wind up into Loch Indaal, which pointed like a finger into the heart of the island.
At the end of the loch there was a bay with a sandy beach where Fergus, King of Islay and the Isles – a vassal of Connad’s – had his base. They were treated most hospitably and that night they feasted in the king’s hall. Predictably, departure the next morning was rather later than Oswald would have liked and he was less than pleased to find out that some of his crew had managed to get Oswiu well and truly drunk; so much so that he was still distinctly merry the next morning. His merriment soon disappeared, however, once the birlinn hit the large waves rolling in from the west and after he had spewed over the leeward side several times, he vowed never to drink ale again.
Leaving Islay behind, they ran before the westerly wind to the south-east, passing Rathlin Island on the horizon to the west of them and turned south until they saw the coast of Ireland fine on the steer board bow. The wind dropped as they entered the lee of the mainland and they had to row the last few miles to King Fiachnae’s main town of Larne and the entrance to the sheltered sea lough beyond. The shore was rocky, but a wooden jetty had been built out into the lough and a wharf ran the length of the shore in front of the settlement. Six birlinns of varying sizes and a couple of trading ships were tied up alongside. The traders were similar to the warships, but broader in the beam to carry cargo and they had fewer oars, as they mainly relied on the wind for propulsion. Their crews were also much fewer in number.
Alaric brought them alongside the last space on the jetty and Oswald went off with Eochaid to see King Fiachnae. He took two warriors along as an escort, as well as Rònan in case he needed to send a message back to Alaric. Somehow Oswiu tacked himself onto the rear of the party too.
Fiachnae hadn’t seen his son for several years and their reunion was emotional, with much back slapping and comments about how much he had grown. Oswald stood by, patiently waiting to be greeted, whilst Rònan and Oswiu gazed wide-eyed about the king’s hall. What had most caught their attention were several rotting heads hanging by their hair from the rafters.
‘Dead Uí Néill,’ one of the warriors escorting Oswald explained and the two boys shuddered delightedly. It was the first of their enemies that they had seen, but it wasn’t to be the last, by a long way.
At last Fiachnae turned to Oswald and welcomed him, thankfully without all the hugs and backslapping. The version of Gaelic spoken in Ireland was a little different than that of Dal Riada, but it was similar enough for Oswald to follow most of what was being said. When Oswald looked a bit blank, Eochaid, who spoke both dialects and also English, the common language of the Angles, Jutes and Saxons, translated.
During the conversation, Oswald was reminded that Eochaid was not Fiachnae’s first born son. There had been two elder brothers, both of who had been killed in battle when Eochaid was still a child. No doubt this explained his father’s protective attitude when they had first met. However, one of them had a son called Congal. He was twelve, but if he grew to adulthood before the elderly Fiachnae died, he would have a better claim to the throne of the Ulaidh than Eochaid.
Oswald first met Congal at the feast given in honour of Eochaid’s return and the arrival of the contingent from Dal Riada. Eochaid was seated on the left of the king and Oswald in the place of honour on his right. Congal sat on Oswald’s other side. The rest of the men on the high table were the various chieftains of the Ulaidh who had brought ships and men for the re-conquest of Rathlin Island. No women were present and Oswald realised with a start that he had seen none in the king’s hall. All the slaves serving the revellers were men and boys.
This time he had ordered Oswiu to remain with those guarding the Holy Saviour and told Rònan to make sure that he didn’t sneak off to the hall. He was fairly confident that his brother had learned his lesson, but the boy had a nose for mischief and Oswald didn’t want him making a fool of himself in front of the Ulaidh. They had already made fun of the youth of most of his crew and he had had difficulty in keeping his temper in check. He didn’t want to give them a chance to ridicule his brother.
After he had made polite conversation with Fiachnae for a while, Oswald turned to Congal, who was sitting morosely eating his food. The chieftain on the boy’s other side was exchanging bawdy stories with the man to his right.
‘Tell me about your father, Congal,’ he said with a smile.
Eochaid had said nothing to him about his two brothers in all the time he’d known him and he was curious as to the reason.
‘What’s to tell? He died when I was too young to remember him.’
Oswald ignored the boy’s sullen rudeness and tried again.
‘You must have heard about him from others, though – your mother, perhaps?’
‘She burst into tears the one time I asked abou
t him; she’s dead now in any case.’
‘So you’ve been brought up by your grandfather?’
‘Hardly! He ignores me. It’s my right to succeed him as the son of his second son, but he hates me and wants Eochaid to follow him. It’s not fair.’
The boy returned to picking peevishly at his food.
‘So who looks after you?’
‘I look after myself! Oh, I have slaves, but there’s no-one who cares about me.’
Oswald was forced to the conclusion that the boy was self-centred and resentful. He could understand why, but he began to worry for Eochaid. His friend was brave and a good fighter when he had to be, but he was also kind-hearted and generous. Congal was mean-spirited and Oswald was fairly certain that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill his uncle if he stood in the way of his ambition to rule the Ulaidh. He would have to warn Eochaid.
Later, when he told his friend of his conversation with his nephew, Eochaid merely smiled.
‘Congal’s welcome to try and rule the Ulaidh. When they aren’t fighting the other clans, they’re fighting amongst themselves. It’s the curse of the Irish; we love a good fight. Besides, I have no desire to be king.’
‘But your father has nominated you as his heir.’
‘Then let’s hope that he lives long enough for Congal to grow up.’
~~~
Acha had been furious when Offa told her that Oswiu had stowed away on the Holy Saviour. She had watched Oswald and his brother grow close over the short time that they had shared the former’s hut and had been pleased. Now she saw that it had been a mistake. The younger boy obviously idolised his eldest brother and that had led him to seek the perilous life of a seafarer and warrior years before he was old enough. It was bad enough that Oswald put his own life in danger every time he put to sea without dragging his brother along.
She tried to comfort herself with the thought that Oswald would leave the boy on Iona and let her know that he was safe, but she heard nothing and imagined the worst. Offa was too busy playing with the other boys at Dùn Add to notice how distracted his mother had grown, but her daughter immediately knew something was wrong. Acha was touched by the way the little girl tried to comfort her and, if only for a moment, she wished that she had given birth to fewer sons and more daughters. At least Æbbe wouldn’t cause her the anxiety that Oswald and Oswiu were doing.