by Hall, Ian
At last, as the mealtime was drawing to a close and some of the chiefs were drifting away, Calach brought the conversation to a close. “It’s been good to talk to someone who thinks the same as me Mauchty, I hope that we’ll see you soon, an’ give your faither, the chief, our respects when you return home.”
“Thank you Calach, I hope that you an’ your faither sort out your difficulties.”
“Aye I hope so.”
They shook hands and went their separate ways. Mauchty went in search of his bed, Calach to find Finlass.
When he located him however, he was in deep conversation with his father, Ma’damar and two other chiefs. Calach waited in the shadows for a few moments, hoping to catch Finlass’s eye, and was heartened when the Meatae nodded in his direction then motioned to the hillside where they had spoken the night before. Finlass waited for Calach to acknowledge, then turned back to the conversation.
Calach, exhausted as he was, still had one more person to see before moving to the rendezvous with Finlass.
He found Aysar beside the barrels of beer, he was attempting to share the remaining ale equally amongst the sentries.
“Aysar! A moment?” He indicated a vacant table.
They both sat down, and feigning exaggerated tiredness, Calach leaned over the table to talk privately.
“Aysar, this a time o’ big changes, an’ I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Aye, changes are happening here an’ no mistake. Carry on.” Aysar replied.
“Aye, listen. We’ve been friends now for as long as I can remember.”
“Aye.”
“I need to know that I can trust you to do something for me.”
“You’ve just got to name it Calach, you know that!” Aysar leaned closer. “This wouldn’t have anything to do wi’ your conversations wi’ Finlass an’ Mauchty would it?”
How many more people have seen my associations? I’ve been a child in a man’s game. I’m going to have to try harder than this, or the plan will collapse before it starts! If my first journey into clan politics is going to be a success, I’m going to have to more careful than I have been so far.
Calach smiled at his friend’s intuition. “Aye, Aysar, it’s got something to do wi’ Mauchty. An’ I need you to keep quiet. Report back to me.”
“You’ve got it.” Aysar rubbed his hands together exaggeratedly, warming to the task. “What do I have to do?”
“First, I want you to tag along wi’ Mauchty’s party at dawn tomorrow when the gather breaks up. There’ll be two sentries as guides, an’ when you get near the border o’ the two lands, I want you to send the two others back. Make up some excuse to stay wi’ the party till the absolute end o’ the Caledon lands. When you’re alone wi’ Mauchty an’ his party, I want you to tell him that you’ve to travel to his capital wi’ him to learn the route. Tell him that I’ll be coming to meet wi’ him later in the summer. When you’ve been shown the route, come back to Lochery an’ tell only me about it. I’ll make sure that you’re not missed by anyone.”
“Consider it done.”
~ ~ ~
“Come walk with me.” Finlass said. “Let’s get a bit farther away from the camp.”
Calach followed, tramping up the hill, happy to get away from prying eyes.
Finlass led the way to a patch of short grass, then turned to look at the distant fires. “Things have changed since last night.”
“They have indeed!” Calach sat on the grass and stared at the distant campfire. “After today’s disaster, we need more than open minds to get anywhere, we need a miracle.” He indicated that Finlass should also sit.
As he did so, the Meatae chief’s son continued. “We’re taking a big risk being together tonight. We were seen last night by someone; they’re talking about us already.”
“Shite.”
“Aye. Ma’damar says we’re up to something.”
“Oh, no. Not Ma’damar too.” Calach rolled his eyes to the dark sky. “Ranald mentioned we were talking too much!” He shook his head.
“I saw you having dinner wi’ Mauchty.”
“Aye. He invited me.” Calach replied. “He was concerned that he didn’t get a proper hearing today in the circle.”
“He’s another clan chief’s son. Did you sound him out?
Calach looked at Finlass closely. “Aye, he’ll be on our side.”
“The idea grows already.”
“Seems he’s been haunted by a dream. He’s already arguing for unification.”
“Are you sure that he was genuine?”
“I think so, but I didn’t give anything away. Just listened an’ agreed wi’ him mostly.”
“Maybe the best thing to do just now.”
“Anyway.” Finlass turned his body round to face Calach. “Listen to me for a while. I need to talk some things through.”
Here it comes
“I have spoken wi’ our dhruid; Quen’tan.......”
“Quen’tan?” Calach interrupted. “I’m not sure if I’m going to like this!”
“I don’t see why not? The dhruids speak well of you Calach.”
“How does your dhruid know o’ me?”
“Through one dhruid speaking to another.” Finlass replied quickly. “Every dhruid shares every piece of information with his fellows. If there’s one thing to know about dhruids; they’re the masters of sharing information. That’s why they can’t be trusted in clan matters; they would always act for the good o’ their own order.” Finlass picked up a piece of grass and began to chew the end, absentmindedly. “Another thing, but not connected. Have you spoken to your dhruids in any depth?”
Calach shook his head. “I’ve talked to Sewell about lots of things, but I always feel that he’s hiding something, that he’s talking down to me, treating me like a child.”
“I’ve found that if you ask the dhruids direct questions, they’ll you a lot more than you would think.” Finlass smirked. “Piece together what they don’t tell you, you’ll be surprised.”
Not only good at clan politics, but showing an interest in dhruid matters too?
I arrived at this ‘gaither’ without a care in the world and by tonight, not only have I argued with Ranald and chased him out of the camp, I’ve lost all pretense of my childhood and dived headfirst into inter-clan politics with an absolute stranger!
I’ll be having a few choice words with Sewell soon, before I’m out of my depth for good.
“Back to the point?”
“Aye, let’s deal wi’ the facts.” Finlass began to count off on his fingers as he spoke. “When Ranald dies, you’ll lead clan Caledon. I’ve been told by my mother that I will lead clan Meatae. That much I know. We’ll be chiefs someday; if we live long enough!”
“Aye, if we live.”
“We also know that up till now the Roman legions have conquered every tribe in the south. Nothing an’ no one stopped them there, an’ many o’ the tribes in the south were bigger than any we’ve got up here. We know that their galleys are scouting around the islands; they’re seen often enough. I’ve checked wi’ most o’ the clans wi’ coastline, both east an’ west, they a’ tell the same story. As far as the ships are concerned, let’s just say the Romans are interested in what they see up here, otherwise they wouldn’t be making so many journeys.”
Calach was suddenly very interested in what Finlass was saying. He found the atmosphere different from the hillside this morning. He was being dragged out of adolescence by the ear tonight; Finlass was not a young boy expressing his opinion, but a young chief flexing his political thinking.
“Aye, so let’s take it one stage further, Calach. The dhruids have taken a gamble here, an’ asked the clans to unite to face the Roman threat.”
“A gamble?”
“Aye, they’ve taken a chance. There were risks in having this ‘gaither’ in the first place. Anything could go wrong, anything still could!”
Calach took a deep breath.
The convers
ation turns again.
“Aye? Keep going.”
Finlass continued. “Well, the next thing I have to say is not at a’ common knowledge, or accepted fact. If the dhruids have taken this step to unite the clans, they must have access to some good information to hasten them to make the attempt.”
“Now I start to follow you.” Calach quietly, deep in thought. “You’re saying that the dhruids may have knowledge o’ the Romans intentions.”
“You follow exactly.” It was Finlass’ turn to take a deep breath. Calach watched as emotions flitted over the Meatae’s face. “But again I go one stage further.” He paused. “I think that not only do the dhruids know that the Romans will strike north, I think they know when they will strike!”
“What? How?” Calach spluttered.
Finlass paused, and leant closer. “If I’m close to the truth wi’ this, the dhruids may have a network o’ spies that runs right across the country.”
“Spies?”
“Think. It would certainly explain their knowledge of everyone’s business. An’ if they know about the timing o’ the Roman advance, it’s probably because they have informers everywhere; maybe even in the Roman camps.”
By Lugh! If Finlass is right, this is a major leap in my understanding of the clan system.
Calach looked at Finlass. He had followed his reasoning most of the way, but it had taken a few jumps that he had felt needed more explanation.
Maybe it’s not entirely Finlass’s idea.
Suddenly Calach became suspicious, the question being voiced before he had thought it through properly.
“An’ how do you know so much Finlass. Is this a’ your own reasoning?” Calach asked.
By Lugh, can I not hold my tongue!
“Or has someone else helped you wi’ this theory. Is there something else that you’re not telling me.” Even in the darkening glen, the look which swept across Finlass’ face showed that Calach was correct.
There! Hit the peg on the head.
Calach watched Finlass, a surge of adrenaline filling him as he warmed to the political intrigue.
The Meatae warrior lay back on the now dampening grass. He lay for a while before continuing.
“I’ve gleaned most o’ this from one dhruid especially.” Finlass began. “Not Quen’tan!” Calach’s protest fell silent in his throat. “Quen’tan would never give out such information; he’s the highest ranking dhruid I know, with the exception o’ Kheltine o’ course.”
“Aye, course.”
“Quen’tan’s actually an approachable man, but not for this type o’ thing. I got the information from a lower rank o’ dhruid; much lower. Over the last two summers we’ve talked about many things, not just the Roman menace. I’ve built up a friendship wi’ the one aim o’ getting information out o’ him. I’ve used him, I know, but the end is going to be justified by whatever means I need to use. Over many conversations I’ve put together a picture o’ the whole political scene in the Norlands. Some of this was common knowledge, others I’ve had to piece together small fragments o’ information that he’s inadvertently slipped out to get the full situation.”
So he thinks he’s used a dhruid for his own ends. Well, maybe. Or have the dhruids used him?
“So, for instance?”
“A’ right then, here’s one nugget for you; there’s been more than two years planning been put into this ‘great gaither’.
“Two years?”
“Aye.” Finlass grinned. “My man knew about this two years ago. It’s taken a while in the masterminding; getting the venue right, getting the clan chiefs to agree to come, an’ much more.”
Two years! But that means...
“Finlass!” Calach tensed, his hands animated and shaking. “If the dhruids know when the invasion will be, an’ they’ve planned this gather for two years, then the Romans can’t be ready to invade yet!”
“Correct!”
Calach again felt buoyed by his grasp of the older man’s reasoning, satisfied that he had been able to following his rationalizing to its conclusion.
“So we must have many summers yet!”
“Probably.”
We could have years to prepare for this! Oh no! When I argued with Ranald today, I felt the Romans were beating down our doors! If only I’d had this conversation first. Perhaps this’ll teach me to hold my tongue in future.
“One thing I don’t understand Finlass.”
“What’s that?”
“If you’re correct about all this, then why didn’t they tell us all this today? Maybe it would have made a difference!”
“That’s easy Calach, an’ it fits in wi’ my ‘spies’ theory. They can’t admit that they know a’ this without exposing their spy network.” Finlass smiled at the irony. “They’re caught between the sea an’ the rocks. They can’t tell us, because they don’t want us to ask how they know!”
Calach’s face gradually lost its smile and he now sat, serious, brooding. His feeling of quiet assurance had long since evaporated, not for the first time he felt immature. He sat in silence, musing over the recent revelations.
“So, my young Caledon, piece together the facts; we know that the dhruids know that the invasion will take place. It will take place, but we also know that the invasion is not coming soon or the dhruids would not have allowed the planning for the ‘great gaither’ to have taken two years. It leaves us wi’ only one thing to consider.”
“What’s that?” Calach asked, waking up slightly.
I only hope that I can remember all this in the morning!
“The only thing that we have to decide, is what we are going to do about it.”
“Us?” Calach barked. “You mean the two of us? What can we do?”
“Plenty.” Finlass looked Calach in the eye. “I want you to think o’ two possible alternatives; but don’t say anything until I’ve spoken o’ both.”
Calach nodded.
This is why we’re talking! This is the whole crux of his idea.
“One; the clans stay as separate units an’ we’re picked apart by the Romans. The tribes in the south have already tried that before; Queen Boudicca’s Icenii were destroyed in one battle, an’ the Brigante tribe was crushed in three days. Both these tribes were much, much bigger than clan Caledon, both perished. Both have now been Romanized for their pains.” Finlass looked askance at Calach as if to gauge his reaction.
“Two. We form some kind o’ united clan force an’ try an’ stop the Roman advance. In the first case we’ll definitely a’ die or end up hiding in the mountains, starving an’ dying. In the second, as a force ten times bigger than my own Meatae clan, we’ve a chance o’ some form o’ victory. What do you think?”
He’s just sprung this on me, and he wants me to give an opinion now?
“I see the point Finlass, but there’s nothing we can do about the situation!” Calach tried to stall for time.
Finlass smiled. The kind of smile that a hunter has when the deer walks into his snare.
“The point, my young Caledonii, is this.” Finlass pointed to himself then to Calach. “The point is that the two eldest chiefs’ sons o’ the two greatest clans in the Norlands are talking together. You and I. When else in our lifetimes would we have met an’ had the opportunity to talk in this way? Until today, if we had met on the moors, we’d have drawn swords an’ fought to the death. But tonight we’ve laid our hearts open.”
Finlass shifted his position quickly. He leaned towards Calach, his eyes bulging with excitement.
“I’m certain that the Romans will invade. I’m also certain that the only way to defeat them is by uniting the clans, but I can’t do it on my own. Even if Ma’damar dies tomorrow, I still can’t do it on my own; his legacy is one of hate. Because of our clan’s thieving, murdering ways, I can’t unite the Norland clans; no one would trust me on my own. If I can convince you to listen to me, then there’s hope for us a’, because I believe that unification is the only way that we can beat the
Romans.”
A heavy silence descended on the pair. The remote torchlight offered no warmth, and little light. Finlass lay back on the grass to await Calach’s reactions.
He’s right in what he says. We both know it. But if I say too much maybe I’m leaving my position open to whatever comes next.
“Well Finlass, I’ve listened,” Calach slowly mouthed each word. “An’ I have to agree that I think that it’s a good idea that the clans should join together. The only question that I still have is that we are not chiefs yet. We can’t lead the clans from our positions right now.”
“There is one way that we can help the clans unite,” Finlass said, “Not tomorrow but soon, within a few summers; an’ we know from what we’ve said before that we have at least a few summers to do this. This is the crux of my whole idea. This is the part in which I hope you will agree to join with me, or it is my belief that the clan system, as we know it now, will perish.”
Calach felt sluggish, but tried to concentrate.
“There are five eldest chief’s sons here at the gather, including us. As far as I know, not many o’ the five had met before; we were mostly strangers together. If we can agree on a union between ourselves, our own very secret union, then perhaps we can work together behind the scenes an’, sooner rather than later, we can convince our chieftains, an’ the chieftains o’ the other clans to do likewise.”
“An’ you think we can do this without the dhruids, chiefs or anyone else finding out?” Calach asked sharply.
“You’re even starting to think like me Calach.” Finlass said. “We need to keep this to ourselves.”
“Well the chiefs would denounce us for undermining the clan system!”
“Aye, an’ it may be prudent to keep the dhruids out o’ it for a while until we see how the land lies there.”
“Even though we’re working towards the same goal?”
“Aye Calach, we’ll keep them in the dark until we’ve got something to tell them about.”
If I say ‘yes’ here, I’m committing myself to the biggest conspiracy I’ve ever heard of! I trust Finlass, and I’m getting a good feeling for Mauchty, but I’m not sure about the others.