Caledonii: Birth of a Nation. (Part One: The Great Gather) Page 8

  Calach frowned, he felt his bottom lip quivering. “If I agree to this Finlass, it’s my opinion that we’ve got to limit the numbers o’ those who know, maybe even just the two o’ us to start off wi’.” He sighed. “Until we know that the others can be trusted totally.”

  “Aye, I think like you Calach. Maybe in the beginning only the two o’ us should know what we’re trying to do. If we befriend the other chief’s sons, an’ keep it to a bond o’ friendship, perhaps we can decide which o’ them to trust wi’ the rest o’ the plan. We started it today! We can keep the real idea our own until we can be absolutely sure we can trust the others. But in the meantime we must spend some time together, an’ over the next few summers build the friendship wi’ the others stronger.”

  “How can we spend time together without anyone knowing?”

  “We have to spend time together. We have to develop trust between us.”

  “Finlass, we’re speaking easily o’ trust, but we’ve only just met. It’s going to take a lot o’ trust on both sides even to get us through the next few days, never mind the next few summers. I mean, how can I be sure that I can trust you? For that matter, how do you know you can trust me? You arrived yesterday, a stranger, an’ now you want us both to take over the whole clan system?” The thought of what he had just said to Finlass made Calach smile, then laugh, Finlass soon joining in. They laughed as the realization of the scale of the plan became more apparent.

  Oh by the very balls of Lugh himself! By this conspiracy, we’re going to try to deceive the whole of the Norlands.

  “Maybe the dhruid was told to give you information. Maybe the dhruids are controlling us right now! Maybe you’re at the front of a dhruid plot! Well?” Calach narrowed his brows, questioning the Meatae warrior.

  “And here I have you.” Finlass raised both his hands, palms facing Calach, “I’ve thought of this. I’ve considered all of the possibilities, but I come back to my central belief. Yes, I could be doing the dhruid’s bidding, right now. But is it for the good of the Norlands? Yes!”

  Calach pondered for a moment, Finlass continued.

  “I swear on the Earth Spirit himself, that the plan is totally my own. But if it’s not; if the dhruid’s are involved, then I still agree with the sense in it.”

  “I think I believe you.” Calach held his hand out, “You do make perfect sense.”

  Finlass offered his hand.

  “Maybe from now on, we can never be sure anymore!”

  Calach took the offered hand firmly, a grim look of determination in his eyes. He had a lot to think about this night.

  ~ ~ ~

  In the darkness that had descended, he groped for the sentry’s bow and slung it over his back. With a glance to see if there were any repercussions from the fight, he grabbed the body and proceeded to drag it back over the hill away from the camp.

  Damn it, with a knife wound in his neck, there’s no chance of blaming this on a fall somewhere. I’ll just have to hide it.

  It took until late in the night before he was satisfied that he was far enough away from the camp to leave the body.

  I’ll decide what to do in the morning.

  Damn! Damn! Damn!

  What else can go wrong? I only wanted to follow them, now I’ve killed two men!

  Damn!

  ~ ~ ~

  Strange though the concept of Finlass’ idea was, Calach could not find fault with the logical process. There was no threat to his clan, unless Finlass wanted to take over completely, and that couldn’t happen with the Caledon being by far the biggest clan of the two. It made sense to have some sort of united stance against any possible Roman threat.

  As he contemplated the task ahead, he began to realize that there was one task he wanted to do before he settled down for the night. He walked round the camp and talked with a few of the sentries that had led the other delegations into the ‘great gaither’. When he had the information he required from the warriors, he began to mold an adaptation of Finlass’s plan. He went to his bed soon after. He fell asleep with difficulty, this new part of the scheme forming in his mind. As he slept, images of war swept through his dreams; charging chariots and dying men, blood flowing like a stream. He slept fitfully, jerking uncontrollably in his bracken filled bed. He would not remember the dream.

  He woke with the realization that the plan needed to be changed, and that the most dangerous part of the plan still had to be explained to Finlass.

  Chapter 4.

  The Thickened Plot is Solidified.

  Summer AD 74.

  A summer sunrise is always the best time of the year. It inspires life!

  Calach stood at the tent and stretched his arms into the air. With a shake of his head to chase the sleep away, he looked around the camp, listening to the chorus of snores which vied for supremacy with the morning birds.

  Flurries of mist still clung to the highest peaks as the sun broke over Ben Machan, far to the east.

  A quick glance ensured he was alone, and walked slowly and carefully through the camp making directly for Ma’damar’s tent.

  He stood quietly outside and listened for any movement within. Only the snores of the fully asleep filtered through the animal hides. Knowing the layout of the beds inside, he knelt down and began to pick the stitching of the tent’s hide, beside where one of the beds should be.

  I just hope that it’s worth the effort! What I wouldn’t give for a knife!

  When he had a large enough hole to see through, he put his eye to the gap and looked inside. He could see the three figures, asleep on the bracken filled sleeping frames, and unfortunately Ma’damar was on the one closest to him.

  By Lugh! I had to choose the wrong side!

  Finlass was at the end furthest from the tent’s opening, which was laced closed from the inside. Calach hurried quietly round to Finlass’s side of the tent and duplicated the unthreading until he had a hole big enough for his hand to slip inside.

  Well, here goes nothing.

  Holding apart a little gap to see properly, he carefully worked his arm inside and clamped his hand firmly down onto Finlass’s mouth.

  The Meatae woke with flailing arms and wild staring eyes, quickly trying to get his bearings, and grabbed at Calach’s hand trying to prize it from his mouth.

  “Shhh, Finlass. It’s me.” He hissed into the tent. Instantly, Finlass lay still, realizing the situation. Calach released the hold. “I need to see you, now!”

  Finlass nodded, and Calach withdrew his hand from the tent. Without looking back, he headed for the spot on the hillside where they had talked the previous evening.

  Calach looked in dismay at the trail he was leaving in the heavily dewed grass.

  “You certainly know how to wake a man up!” Finlass grinned as he caught up. They shook hands as they walked.

  “Come on, we’ve got talking to do, an’ no’ much time!”

  “Why the kidnap though?” Finlass hissed.

  “The only way to get you up on your own. I had to speak wi’ you before the rest o’ them woke up.” Calach said quietly. “This is the last chance we get to speak alone.”

  He then remained silent until they had rounded the hill and were completely out of sight of the encampment.

  “Sit down.” Calach said, “You mightn’t like what I have to say.”

  Finlass frowned at the dewy grass, then located a dry rocky outcrop and sat down quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

  “One question before we start.” Calach sat.

  “Just ask.”

  “Exactly how long do we have before the Romans invade?” He said, quickly, watching Finlass intently.

  “Yeo’ran, my dhruid friend, says nothing will happen for two or three years; it seems Roman’s are very methodical. So, four, five years till they invade.”

  Calach nodded. “It’s incredible that they can be so accurate.”

  “From what I gather, they’ve watched the Roman advance for many summers now. They obviously ta
lk to other dhruid in the south. And their spies, remember that.”

  Calach shook his head. “Anyway, I did a bit of thinking last night.” Calach began. “An’ I came up wi’ a new part to the plan.”

  “Right.” Finlass nodded. “The reason for my kidnap.”

  “Well, we have five summers at the outside to get the clans into thinking together, aye?”

  “Aye.”

  “An’ after the clan chiefs rejecting the dhruid’s proposals yesterday, it’s plain that they’ll take a few summers to come to terms wi’ the idea, that is, if they ever do.”

  “Aye. If they come to terms wi’ it!”

  “So we’re in agreement from last night, that we’ll have to do the job for them.”

  “Aye!”

  Calach smiled inwardly. He was beginning to enjoy the role reversal from the evening before. “Whatever we do to bring the clans together, has to be done in the next five summers, an’ the chances o’ Ma’damar an’ Ranald either dying or giving us command o’ the clans are not options we can seriously consider, right?”

  “Aye. We’ve got to act quick, an’ although Ma’damar’s not a young man, there’s no way I’m going to wish him dead!” Finlass added.

  “So, the quickest, an’ by far the strongest way that we can strengthen the union o’ the clans would be through inter-marriage.”

  “What?” Finlass blurted. “You want to marry my sister?” He stood up with a bewildered look on his face. “Marriage between clans is frowned upon by every clan.”

  Calach looked at Finlass’s face. “Remember when the meeting broke up in chaos yesterday?”

  “Aye.”

  “Your expression was the same as the clan chiefs then.”

  The revelation calmed Finlass, who sat down again. “Old ways die hard, Calach.”

  “Anyway, hear me out.” Calach took a deep breath. “If we can start a trend, the five o’ us, Cam’bel, Morro, Mauchty! If we take it one at a time, we can make it accepted within a few summers. It’s not such a great step really, an’ it would certainly bring the clans closer together.”

  Although Finlass was silent, Calach could see that he was not dismissing the idea as much as before. He looked to be in deep contemplation.

  Calach continued, enjoying the moment. “In essence it only takes one chief’s son to marry into another clan. Just one to break the tradition. After the first one, the next is going to be easier. If we were to approach one o’ the smaller clan chief’s sons; Morro, Cam’bel, perhaps, an’ approach a chief wi’ a suitable eligible daughter, it might be easier than we think. A small union at first could lead quickly to us tying the larger clans together. A Morro or a Cam’bel would take a’ the pressure off us when we finally announced our intentions.”

  “But you still want to marry my sister?”

  “No Finlass, definitely no’. It’s no’ going to be as easy as that for us I’m afraid. The two o’ us are special, we’ve the potential to be the two most powerful men in the Norlands someday. We can’t marry our clans together as tightly as that, it would make us too strong an alliance compared to the rest o’ them.”

  “Aye Calach, you’re right.” Finlass nodded his head vigorously, looking off towards the rising sun. “Other clans would see it as a threat. That would serve to distance the clans from each other rather than unite them together.”

  “Aye, an’ that’s defeating the whole purpose!”

  Finlass sat and gazed at the mist, still clinging to the hillside, despite the warm morning sunshine.

  It was one thing thinking the plan through, but now, after airing the plan out loud, Calach began to realize the implications of a marriage pact between the clan chief’s sons. It began to dawn to him, that this was not an addition to the plan explained the night before, but a new more daring concept altogether.

  “Inter-marriage, is it?” Finlass mused quietly, playing with the words.

  “Aye, if you think about it, you’ll see that it would work.”

  “Marriage?” Finlass’s eyes glazed over, and he turned to face Calach. “Hell Calach, do you know what that means?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll have to get married!”

  “Aye, there is that.” Calach shook his head at the farcical faces Finlass was pulling. “But always remember, so will I!”

  “Marriage!” Finlass screwed up his face in mock pain.

  “There’s one last thing.” Calach added. “For the plan to work, we need to be in contact with each other regularly. We can’t rely on any form o’ messenger system; it’d be too easy to fall into the wrong hands.”

  Finlass looked thoughtful for a moment. “That could be difficult for me, I’ve probably got more duties than you have, getting away from them wouldn’t be easy.”

  “Has the bold Finlass got a lady-friend?” Calach teased.

  “Not anyone special.”

  “Then the bold Finlass could easily find himself amorously connected wi’ a lass in the far east o’ Meatae lands.” Calach blew a kiss into the morning air. “An’ the bold Calach could find himself a girl in the far west o’ Caledonii lands.”

  “And we’ll meet on the border.”

  “Every full moon say? Would that be enough?”

  Finlass frowned. “As I said, it’s difficult for me to get away from Bar’ton; how about every second full moon?”

  “Done! We’ll start on the second full moon from now, that should be enough.”

  They shook hands freely.

  By Lugh! That was quick and painless.

  Finlass got up to leave, then turned to Calach. “I know just the village for the meetings; Allander, just inside the border, on the Meatae side. I know the head man there, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “How about me getting past the sentries?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re expecting you!”

  Calach stood to walk back to the camp. “No dhruids involved yet. Right?”

  “Aye, let’s just see how we can get on wi’ this ourselves.”

  Calach offered his hand. “All agreed?”

  Finlass took the offered hand, and shook hard and long.

  “Agreed!”

  “Right Finlass, you go back to camp first, I’ll circle round and come in from another side, just in case anyone sees us.”

  “Aye, that’s sensible. See you in two moons.”

  “Aye!”

  ~ ~ ~

  The prone figure near the top of the next hill had been awake from the earliest light of dawn. He squinted his eyes against the rising sun, trying to see properly against the strong morning light

  Curses to Lugh and all who go with him! Why did I choose this position?

  He was tired after his walk late into the night, tired, irritable and hungry.

  He noticed the figure in the camp, the first warrior to rise and watched the man’s attempts to gain access to the Ma’damar’s tent.

  What is he doing?

  Again he was too far away to offer assistance.

  After last night’s debacle, it’s probably just as well!

  The sun then had crested the mountain opposite, throwing himself and the hillside into dazzling sunshine, making it both difficult to see properly and to change location. Slowly raising his hand to shield his eyes, he watched the figure leave the camp, and Finlass leave his tent and join him. He tried to see the second figure properly, but he had his back to him for most of the way.

  As the two distant figures disappeared round the hillside, he debated going closer, then decided against it.

  As the morning went on, he began to pull grass from around him and pushing it into his hair, soon he would be camouflaged so completely that he could take a chance and move his position slowly. He knew that if he could not move, that he would be in position till late afternoon, when the sun would eventually be at his advantage, allowing him to retreat to his horse, then off home. Home before anyone at the ‘great gaither’ noticed his absence.

 
Finlass is up to something, and I’m going to find out what!

  The smile on his lips turned to a sneer, as the information was filed for future use. The day could pass without incident now. He had justified his long wait.

  ~ ~ ~

  In the chief’s absence the sentries came to Calach to be given duties, and he went through the motions of assigning sentries to escort the clan chiefs from Caledon land. Little by little the camp emptied. Calach performed the duties of the clan chief's son without a second thought. The protocol that had come to him so strangely two days ago seemed now to be instinctive. One by one he watched the chiefs and their entourages leave, bound for their respective homelands.

  When it came the turn of Mauchty and the Venicone delegation, he assigned Aysar to be one of their guides and said nothing to anyone of their agreement.

  “One thing before I go Calach.”

  “Aye, what is it?”

  “One o’ the sentries is missing. His bed’s not been slept in.”

  “Missing? Since when?”

  “Just last night.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Reordan.”

  “Hmm. Ranald probably took Reordan with him last night. He’ll have spent the night in a more comfortable bed than we did!”

  “True.”

  “Have a good journey!” Calach patted the horse’s rump, “An’ remember, when you get back, report only to me.”

  “I will, don’t worry.”

  With the camp fast emptying, and so much to do, the missing sentry was soon forgotten. As he turned from issuing more instructions to more sentries, Calach turned and was surprised to be suddenly confronted by Finlass.

  “Ma’damar’s said that he’s ready to go, Calach. Our turn to leave.”

  Calach looked over Finlass’s shoulder at Ma’damar and Quen’tan, saddling their mounts. The dhruid was openly watching the two of them.