Caledonii: Birth of a Nation. (Part Three; The Coming of Age) Read online

  “Bugger off Aysar!” Calach snapped, punching him on the shoulder playfully. It was typical of his friend to blame all Calach’s problems on a woman, but he still wondered if Aysar was right.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I wish to thank you and your people.” Uwan said, with the respect due to a clan chief.

  The head man of the village, Derak, bowed his head to the young dhruid. “It was our pleasure, holy one. I hope our attendance on you didn’t disturb your meditation.”

  “I was not disturbed in the least Derak.”

  Uwan took in the details of the village’s main building; a large circular hut; the ground floor for working and cooking, the sleeping quarters on stilts all-round the side of the hut. The central fire had been backed up for the evening.

  “It was as a gesture of gratitude that I am here with the shortest day, just one day away, to offer my services at the lighting of the new fire.”

  Uwan knew that the village did not have a dhruid, it was not large enough for one. Left on their own, the head man would have performed the ceremony. To have a dhruid attend and carry out the ceremony would bring pride and high esteem to the village, an easy way for Uwan to express his gratitude in being fed for almost a year.

  The young dhruid could feel Derak’s emotional swing upon hearing the news. At first he was disappointed, the ceremony brought him much respect from the villagers. As he began to answer, Derak’s thoughts were racing; he was going to invite the villages from all around. He was going to have a dhruid light the new fire! This was the best start to the new year that Derak could remember.

  Uwan found that he could read the immediate, highly emotional thoughts of most people he met. It had begun just after his confirmation as a fully-fledged dhruid. At first it was almost a game, but since then he had realized what a boon to his life this ability could become. Not everyone was susceptible, and not all the time; just emotional high points.

  Derak spoke. “It would be an honor for you to join us for the new fire.” He stood up and loudly addressed the whole of the hut.

  “Listen! The dhruid will light the ‘new fire’ for us. Tomorrow we’ll travel through the snow to the nearest farms, an’ tell them a’ to come here for the ceremony.”

  Children’s expectant faces suddenly appeared from their sleeping furs, laughter and cheers met Derak’s announcement. It was going to be a joyous start to the new year.

  ~ ~ ~

  The group of people, clothed against the deep cold of the winter morning, huddled together watching the brightening morning sky. One from each household of the town, one from each nearby farm; Ranald in front, Calach at his side. Each member of the assembly carried an unlit torch, ready for the ceremony. Before them, in the circle stood the company of dhruids.

  “How do they keep warm?” Calach asked. His voice was quiet, but there was a shiver in his tone. He pulled the bearskin closer to his chin. Even the thick fur did not keep out the chill.

  “They don’t feel the cold son.” Ranald whispered.

  “I bloody do.”

  “Aye. Me too. Ceremony or not, I’ll be glad when this is over.”

  The people back in Lochery would be wrapped up in their beds. Calach reflected that this was a strange time of year. At this precise moment, every lamp and fire in the Norlands had been extinguished, waiting for the symbolic re-birth. Waiting for the ‘new fire’ for the new year. Not for the first time, Calach wondered what would happen if the dhruids could not get their torch to light. But every year they had, and this year would be no different.

  There was a flash of sunlight over the eastern hills and most of the crowd cheered. Then the first rays of sun appeared over the snow covered slopes.

  “At last!” Calach said. “I feel like I’ve been standing here a’ night.”

  “Aye me too son, my feet are like ice!”

  The dhruids said their words quickly, then lit a large torch which burnt bright and red. Wasting no time, each dhruid took a light from the single torch and advanced to the crowd. As the fire was passed from one to the other, soon everyone’s torch was lit, and the dhruids walked at the head of the procession towards town. Some clansmen broke from the main group, their farms lay in different directions, but most of the people headed towards Lochery.

  The start of a new year.

  Calach wondered if the Romans would attack this year. He knew better than to voice his question out loud to his father.

  He looked at his hand as it held the torch. Nine fingers tattooed, this year he would be twenty years old; an adult in the clan. This summer he would have his last finger done, and he would commission the best tattoo artist in the Norlands to begin the tattoo up his arm.

  He also reflected on the fact that he had five fingers showing when he had first met Finlass at the ‘great gaither’. He tried not to think of that fact for long, there was no need to add to his depression.

  ~ ~ ~

  “It is what he learned Brigante for.”

  “But is he ready?”

  “He is one of those we have prepared. It is his duty to do our bidding, and his honor to have been chosen.”

  “You are a hard taskmaster.”

  “These are days for hard tasks.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Where is the ‘moonchild’ now?”

  “He is in the far north with the village who aided him in his ‘year of solitude’; he has seen them through the ‘new fire’ and will return soon enough.”

  “When he does, treat him with respect until the end of spring, then send him down to me with the others. I will prepare them for their task.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The coming of Spring had turned Calach’s thoughts once again to the Roman menace; Spring was the time for a military campaign. This was the time of year that they would move into the Norlands, but so far the dhruids nor the travellers and traders had brought no word of any such move. The Romans lack of action both baffled and disappointed him; it was a constant itch in his flesh which he could not scratch.

  Calach began to withdraw into himself, his normal cheery self, replaced by a brooding, moody demeanor. Still banned from travelling west without a ‘bodyguard’, he turned to his bow and his sword for company. He practiced with his long sword every day, and went hunting often, returning regularly with a deer or boar for the family table. He made arrows in the evening, or drank with Aysar and other young men of the town. He tried not to drink too much, as the conversation always turned to the Romans, and that depressed him.

  When he returned with a deer strapped to the back of his horse, the third in five days, Mawrin threw her hands up in despair.

  “Another deer?” She shrieked as she watched him tie the reins to a post. “Calach have you lost your mind? We’ve had venison for the last four weeks lad. Have you not noticed?”

  The truth had been, he hadn’t noticed, nor cared, but now his mother was making an issue of it.

  “Well I can’t just leave it here. What will I do with it?”

  “Why not take it to one of the other families.” She answered, her hands on her hips. “Or, on second thoughts, why don’t you take it to Sewell. Dhruids have to eat too you know.”

  Maybe I’ll get to see Uwan.

  “Eh, thanks Ma’, I think I’ll do just that!”

  Leading the horse by the reins, he walked over to the dhruid broch. There was a rule about going in without permission, so he stood outside and called half-heartedly at the curtain covering the doorway.

  “Sewell? Uwan? Anybody about?”

  The curtain was pulled aside from within and a sallow faced young boy looked out. “What is it?” He rubbed sleep from his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Calach said with more reverence than he needed to. “I have a deer for the dhruidry, an’ I wondered if I could speak to the dhruid Uwan.”

  “Do you have other business with him?”

  No he’s my bloody brother!

  “Eh yes actually.” Calach bit his lip in
anger at the boy’s impertinence.

  Some people take power too seriously. He’s not old enough to be away from his mother’s tit!

  “I have to see the dhruid Uwan on some serious clan matter.”

  The boy rubbed his eyes again and gestured to one side of the doorway. “Just leave the carcass there, I’ll get someone to attend to it soon enough.” He went to let the curtain go.

  “Eh, excuse me!” Calach snapped. “I’m still looking for brother Uwan?”

  Yes, he’s your brother, and mine too, but my claim came first!

  “Oh yes, so you were.” The boy shook his head. “Sorry Lud Calach, I didn’t mean to be rude. I was up all night looking at the stars with brother Sewell.” He stood for a moment, obviously trying to gather his thoughts. “I think I heard Brother Uwan say he was going to the circle, but I may be wrong. Sorry I can’t be of any more help.”

  “No offence was taken.” Calach lied, as the curtain was allowed to fall. “Well not much anyway!”

  As he gave his horse to one of the boys, he felt elated, and yet had no idea why he had not sought out his brother before this. There had been no reason not to, but in effect he had not spoken to Uwan for over two years; it was easy to get out of the habit of doing so, even when it was permitted again.

  The walk to the circle was quick and completed in long decisive strides. On the way Calach was greeted by many clanspeople, young and old. He responded to each with some quip or remark.

  They don’t speak out to Ranald when he passes!

  He soon saw Uwan, standing by one of the old oaks which grew near the circle. The hood of his brother’s grey cloak was back over his shoulders. Calach slowed as he neared Uwan, then approached quietly.

  “Don’t even think of being smart Calach.”

  “What?”

  Uwan turned, grinning. He held out his hand, which Calach warmly shook. It was strange; Uwan was a dhruid, and due all the respect and favor of any of the order, but he was still the boy who Calach had played with, fought with and probably bullied at one time or another.

  “What brings you to me Calach? It has been a long while.”

  He still looks so young. But then he is! He’s only fifteen years old for the sake of Lugh!

  “Eh, I brought one too many deer carcass’s home, Mawrin said to take it to the dhruids.”

  “And then you thought you’d look out your brother.”

  Calach was embarrassed. “Well, aye, something like that anyway.”

  “Something like that?” Uwan looked deeply into Calach’s eyes. “What do you really want from me Calach?”

  His older brother was shocked at Uwan’s perception.

  What do I want? I don’t know.

  Calach started to tell Uwan about the Roman threat, then the whole story came out; about the fact that he knew that they were going to invade, it was just a matter of time. His arguements with Ranald. His uneasiness, his restlessness. His grasp that the other clansmen were getting restless too.

  As Uwan stood listening, Calach was increasingly aware that there was a growing grin on the dhruid’s face. “What is it?” He playfully snapped at Uwan.

  This made Uwan’s grin wider. “To sum it quickly Calach. You’re waiting for an invasion, and you’re growing tired of the waiting.”

  It couldn’t be as simple as that. Could it?

  “You’re bored, big brother!”

  With a realization which had all the impact of a lightning bolt, he recognized Uwan being right.

  Boredom.

  “Aye, ‘dhruid’ Uwan, you seem to have planted the knife right at the problem.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t honestly know.”

  “Well Calach think about it.” Uwan began. “You have a following of supporters who agree with you that the Romans will invade; in fact they agree with the dhruidry too!”

  “Aye, I had forgot that. You lot think they’ll invade. Kheltine said so at the ‘great gaither’.”

  “I have been told so; you had the good fortune to see him before he died, I did not. But the question still stands; what are you going to do about your boredom?”

  “I’ll just have to face it.”

  “And make the others face it too?”

  “That may be more difficult.”

  “So you need something to take their minds off the Romans for a bit.”

  “Aye.” Calach could see Uwan deep in thought.

  “And something which will keep their warrior skills honed for the day of invasion when it comes.”

  “When it comes.”

  Uwan looked up at the sky, then at his brother.

  “Easy.” He said, “A games tournament!”

  Calach stood open-mouthed.

  “Yes. Tell Ranald that you would like to organize a games tournament.” He began to walk to the circle. Calach followed at his side.

  “What kind o’ games though Uwan?”

  “Why, useful games Calach, dear brother. Useful games like archery, sword fighting, spear and flyte throwing. Chariot racing! When was the last time Lochery had a chariot race?”

  “Last time?”

  “Who knows if there was a last time, Calach. Who would care.”

  Calach could see it in his mind, teams from every clan, competing in Lochery!

  “We could ask the Venicone and Meatae......”

  “Wait Calach!” Uwan stopped, his hand raised in denial. “Let us not go too far with this. Ranald may let you have a games tournament. But he will not let you invite the other clans. Let them find ways to deal with themselves. Let us consider only the Caledons here.”

  “True, no point in putting him off the idea before it starts.”

  “I’m glad you see my point.”

  “I’ll ask him today Uwan! It’s a great idea.”

  He embraced the dhruid and turned to leave.

  “Of course Calach....”

  “Aye Uwan?”

  Uwan’s face was turned away, but the voice could not conceal the smile as he spoke. “When Ranald has agreed, and the tournament is almost underway......”

  Uwan paused, and Calach almost felt himself lean forward to hear the rest of Uwan’s statement.

  “Yes Uwan?”

  He’s developing dhruid’s bad habits already! Get to the point!

  “Well, when it is too late to stop the tournament. If individuals arrive from other clans to compete. How could Ranald stop them?”

  Calach laughed at the retreating dhruid’s figure as he walked towards the circle.

  Bad dhruid habits!

  ~ ~ ~

  Winnie hunched her shoulders and leant closer to Kat’lana. “A’ I mean is that you need to watch your back.”

  “Why should I? I’ve done nothing wrong!”

  The older woman looked around at the busy streets. There were several groups of men and women, looking at the goods on the various traders’ stalls. The summer was in full swing and the markets at this time of year were crammed with goods from the south. Winnie reached up to Kat’lana’s shoulder and pulled her towards a quieter part of town. Winnie had brought her to Be’rwick “to see the market”, but as they had set off, the conversation had quickly been turned to Kat’lana’s position in the clan. The subject had been talked to death, and still she could not get through to the wayward young woman. If she would not see sense, Winnie had only one recourse.

  “I know that you’ve done nothing wrong lass, but there are those Votadin who pay too much attention to Pe’weric.”

  “But he’s the one that cared enough for me to stay here!” Kat’lana’s voice was raised a little too much for Winnie’s comfort.

  “Yes, chief Pe’weric is the one who brought you here; he even gave you to me! Not officially, but near enough.” Her voice was hushed and conspiratorial. “But as I told you before, he’s changed in the last year or so; he’s not the same man who allowed you to stay here a’ that time ago.”

  “The Romans.�
��

  “Yes lass. The Romans! I don’t know what it is, but the Romans have suddenly some influence over our chief. It’s not the first time there’s been Roman coin in town.” She tapped her pocket, and a soft chinking rewarded her touch. “How do you think I’ll be paying for my purchases today!”

  Kat’lana shook her head. “Pe’weric’s dealing with the Romans.”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it.”

  “But why would he feel anything against me?”

  “Kat’lana! How many times do we have to go through this?”

  “But Winnie......” Kat’lana stopped herself and sighed heavily. Winnie knew that the girl was defeated.

  “‘But Winnie’ nothing!” the older woman snapped. “There are men who look upon you an’ Gawrcus an’ see nothing out o’ the ordinary, but are those that see the ‘foreign-ness’ in the two o’ you. They know you’ve made a mistake, an’ they’re not stupid enough not to know where Gawrcus came from. There are some who see him an’ yourself as an embodiment o’ everything that’s different.”

  “But why should ‘different’ be bad? It never was before.”

  “The Romans on our doorstep are making everybody nervous. The fact that no one knows for certain what will happen over the next few years is setting every faction against the other. An’ it’s happening much more around Pe’weric. He’s the catalyst in a’ this.” Winnie stopped walking and pulled Kat’lana to a halt. “Pe’weric is not a bad man, but some o’ the crowd around him have no scruples at a’. They see you as not Votadin, an’ Gawrcus has just made matters worse.”

  “By why should he be brought into it?”

  “Because he’s with you; simple as that. What makes matters worse now is that Erliott the dhruid is getting very suspicious o’ what we’re studying. The dhruids don’t have any time for those o’ us who study the old ways. If it were just me, I would be safe. No one would touch chief Pe’weric’s personal storyteller. But there’s you..... and Gawrcus. You two are vulnerable, no matter how proficient you are with those swords. By now even the normal clansmen know that you spend most of your time with me, but they don’t have an inkling of what we do together, an’ in a way that makes it worse! It’s got to the point where some o’ the men openly say we’re lovers!”