by Hall, Ian
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The Brigante warriors were a talking point for many days after arriving at Lochery; their strange dress and speech being enough to incur the curiosity of everybody at one point or another. At first they were treated with some suspicion, but when the Caledon saw the reverence with which they treated Fetasius and Benelek, or ‘Feetashoosh’ and ‘Beenleech’ as it came across in the Brigante tongue, they were soon integrated into the town proper. They were given living quarters near the inner wall, putting them only a stone’s throw from their charges at night, and during the day, rarely left the young boys alone.
Until that time Sewell and the other dhruids had been responsible in the main for teaching the two young Brigante boys the Caledon languages and culture, and it was decided that the warriors should now join the classes to quickly teach them the same. The sight of the fully-grown and fully-armed warriors sitting cross legged, repeating basic phrases brought many a smile from the passing clanspeople.
They warriors themselves took on special duties regarding the two ‘princes’, as they now called them, who then got extra weapon training and special lessons from their very own guard in ceremonies specific to the Brigante way of life. They were also given a detailed and graphic history lesson regarding their tribe and their now-deceased family. The latter was welcomed by all the clan, especially Mawrin who felt strongly that people should not forget their ancestors, however warm they may be in their graves.
~ ~ ~
The winter drew in quickly and the clan was soon involved with the hurried stockpiling of wood and peat for their winter fires and the last chance to add to their meat supplies. This was an important part of the preparation for winter as they could be stranded within the Town walls for more than ten days with no hope of making passage through the drifting snow. It was the time of year in which the dhruids came into their own, they traveled widely in the worst of the weather and took the thoughts of the clanspeople away from the weather and hardship. They told the members of the clan tales, myths, legends, and taught them songs and poetry to sing to break the monotony of the dark, cold evenings. The most important of all, however, was that they kept the calendar, for without it the clan would not know when it was the middle of winter, or the beginning of spring, but most of all they would not know when it was festival time for the clan and during the long cold winter, it was the promise of the coming festivals that kept life going.
The dhruids had kept the calendar for as long as the oral records could remember, they were the only members of the clan who could properly keep count. They followed a dual method of counting the days and watching the sun and stars. This enabled them to count the days in the year accurately and had evolved a calendar divided into eight equal periods which were governed by the solstices and equinoxes, and what was called the ‘quarter days’.
The summer and winter solstices were the longest and shortest days in the year, with the equinoxes being the two half-way points between. These were called the “counting days”. The dhruids accurately kept track of the solstices by watching the exact point of sunrise, which moved northwards in winter, then southwards in summer and by this ‘sun watching’ and the process of counting, kept the calendar exact. The problem for the farmers, however, was that both the solstices and equinoxes did not divide the seasons, but occurred in the middle of them. For this purpose, the dhruids kept precise counting records of the ‘quarter days’, the four half-way points of the solstices and equinoxes. In this way, the clans’ people’s main festivals were held at the beginning of the four seasons, heralding or saying goodbye to a particular phase of the Norlands farming calendar.
Of these four festivals, Beltan and Samain were the most important. Beltan was held at the end of spring, to thank the Earth Spirit for the regeneration of the earth, and to herald the coming of the summer. The summer god Aretta was released from captivity to bring heat and prosperity to the land. Samain was the festival held in the last throes of autumn, to ask the Janus, the god of winter to begin the task of ensuring fertility for the next year. Samain was also celebrated to give thanks for the gathered harvest, and to chase the evil spirits far away, so the winter would not be quite so cold and long.
The feast of Im’bol at the first signs of Spring, was a celebration of the goddess Brigit, and a plea to her to re-kindle creativity within the earth, ready for the re-emergence of life. Luna’s day was a day of feasting in the name of the god Lugh, in appreciation of his permission to reap the harvest. Gathering in the crops without his permission meant the harvest would fail, only he could relinquish the goodness of the earth.
Generally, the dhruids celebrated the “counting days” and the people enjoyed the quarter days.
The most important festival of the year, however, for both the dhruids and the young was still Midsummer’s Day, when the younger people were officially one year older. Both the dhruids and clanspeople stood outside the stone circle and watched through the night for the rising of the new sun; a great day of feasting for the whole Norlands. When the sun at last rose, everyone cheered and at the very early time of sunrise the adults began feasting and drinking. The children joined in when they had had their fingers tattooed, the first being the chief’s sons and daughters. The feasting lasted all day and as night fell most were asleep where they had fallen.
To keep the clans in good cheer through the colder times, the three days of festival during the winter were celebrated with exaggerated vigor. First came Samain, the first official day of the cold season, when the spirits of evil were chased from the homes to allow the warmth of the Earth Spirit Baal to warm their homes all winter. Next came Midwinter’s Day, on which no one ventured outside except dhruids, who crossed to their stone circles, whatever the weather, to perform their ceremonies. The last day of official winter ended on Im’bol; the Feast of Crossover, this initiated the preparation of seeds, bulbs and tubers for the spring planting and was the first day of the hunting season proper. These festivals were important to the Norland people; it was easy to become dispirited in the depths of a cold winter, but the dhruids kept the clans people’s enthusiasm going through the winter, a fact not unnoticed by the people themselves.
The Caledons of Lochery celebrated Samain just a few days after Calach’s return from Alland with the Brigante warrior guard. The drunken revelry of children and adults alike running near naked through the streets, faces painted with hideous designs to chase away the evil demons gave the strangers a less than perfect introduction to clan life, but they joined in the celebration and shared the sore heads next morning. The winter solstice passed without incident, the Midwinter’s Day feast being particularly good that year, and the clan busied themselves towards spring. If it hadn’t been for the plan running through Calach’s mind most of the time, he would have sworn that it was the most peaceful he had ever spent. He thought of his visits to see Finlass, and his first tentative telling of the plan to Mauchty, but while he was asleep, try as he might to put her out of his mind, most of all he dreamt of the warm body of Kat’lana, whose face seemed to shift to Sharra’s, then back again.
Chapter 8
Summer 75AD
Calach Begins a Journey.
The position of matriarch in the clan system was a complex one, traditionally held by the chief’s wife, but it was not uncommon for another related female to be asked to take on the role. A matriarch held her position until death, or until the leadership of the clan changed. If the new chief was married, his wife automatically became matriarch.
In the Norlands, the clan chief had absolute autonomy on any matter appertaining to the Primary Laws. Singularly he would be responsible for judgments pertaining to any military matters and land or legal disputes. The matriarch was responsible for all other matters. She was also obligated to make decisions on the Primary Laws when the chief was away from home. This devolved responsibilities and took pressure from the clan chief for minor matters.
Apart from his duties regarding the Primary Laws, the chie
f dealt with a system called “clan business”.
Every year, every person in the clan had the right to ask for the clan chief’s judgment in one issue. By the law of “clan business”, the chief had to listen to the person and make a judgment. This gave the lowliest member of the clan the authority to approach the clan chief and be heard. Once the matter had been discussed and the chief’s judgment made, the clan member could not raise the subject for a whole year.
This was the legal system by which the clans governed themselves.
The matriarch had one last duty before she died. To pick the male descendant who would carry the title of chief. Usually the eldest son carried that honor, but the choosing still belonged to the matriarch.
With this judgment, she held her power over the clan.
And the clan chief.
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“He had permission from me to go, an’ as long as I’m matriarch o’ the clan, that is a’ he needs.” Mawrin had drawn herself up to her full height and, on tip toe, stood almost eye to eye with Ranald. It was not the first time they had covered these same points. They had been arguing for most of the evening and their raised voices were starting to penetrate the thick walls of the broch and carry through to the rest of the settlement.
“He might’ve had permission from you, but he asked me first, an’ I forbade it!” Ranald’s body shook with anger. He began to pace back and forth across the bedroom, gradually gaining speed with exasperation. “He’s pestered me continuously since this time last year about travelling to Bar’ton. Meeting wi’ the other chief’s sons. Going to see Ma’damar. It’s been a year since he met them at the ‘great gaither’. I’ve had a year o’ him pestering me, an’ I’ve said ‘no’. Every time.” He suddenly stopped and faced Mawrin. “What’s more, you knew that I’d forbidden him; you heard us talking about it half the time.” He cocked his head slightly, listening for movement upstairs. The lack of the usual scampering noises from the floor above, told them that the children were listening to the two argue; this incensed him further.
“‘Clan Business’ Ranald.”
“That’s right. Bring up that old cherry again! He came to me wi’ ‘clan business’, an’ I said that he couldn’t go!”
“But did you listen to him?”
“There was no need!” He yelled. “He’d told me so many times before. I knew what was coming!”
“But Ranald. You didn’t listen to him.”
“I’ve told you woman! There was no need.” He sighed, then added. “I forbade him to go. That should have been enough. I forbade him as a chief an’ a father.”
“A’ the more reason for me to allow him to go.” Traces of weariness creeping into her voice.
Here she goes again!
“What are you saying woman?”
“Ranald, if you forbade him any longer, there’s no way o’ knowing what he would have done, at least this way we know where he is, an’ how long he’s likely to be. He’s got Aysar an’ Lachlan wi’ him. He’s not travelling on his own.”
“But Mawrin, he’s not used to travelling. It’s a dangerous place out there.”
“He’s done his warrior tests.” She quipped.
“Aye, he has.”
“An’ they involve him being alone in the wilds for three or four days.”
“Aye! But in our wilds! Caledon wilds! Woman, he’s going to Meatae country!”
“He’s also been to Blane more times than I can count recently.”
“But woman I keep telling you. He’s going to Meatae country. It’s a’ right going to Blane; Blane’s in Caledon lands!”
“Only just Ranald. You forget I grew up around there. From Blane you could throw a stick at the Meatae.”
“But he’s still in our lands.”
“Ranald, listen.” Her hands touched both of his cheeks. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We’ve got to let Calach find his way in the land without us holding him back a’ the time. It’s been a year since the ‘gaither’, he’s just had his seventh finger tattooed. He’s not a child any more. From the state that he came back from that ‘gaither’ last summer I thought that he was going to run away completely, but that trip to see Kheltine seems to have calmed him down.”
Ranald knew that she had mentioned Kheltine on purpose. Calach had been outside Caledon lands. She had made her point directly, and they both knew it.
“What’s more, my chief; he’s dallied wi’ that girl down in Blane for the last year, an’ taken Aysar wi’ him every time. He’s not taking chances wi’ his own safety. He’s been careful.”
He shook himself free of her grasp.
“That’s another thing! Mawrin, why out o’ a’ the lasses in Caledon, does he have to start up wi’ one that’s so near to the Meatae lands. I know he takes Aysar wi’ him, but there’s danger every time he goes to see her! You’d think he’d chosen Blane on purpose purely to spite me!”
“For the sake o’ Lugh, an’ a’ that’s sacred, Ranald, stop thinking o’ yourself an’ think o’ your son.”
“That’s just the point woman! Have you any idea what danger he’s going to be in on this stupid journey!” Ranald cut in. For a while he had known that he was not going to win this argument. He was like a dying animal; thrashing around blindly in its last death throes.
It doesn’t matter what I say to her, the damage is done. Calach’s left already.
Two days ago.
“He’ll be in no more danger than out wi’ you on one o’ your so-called ‘hunting trips’! The same trips that always seem to include Masson an’ Durgal, an’ always end up wi’ you coming home reeking o’ beer, wi’ meager offerings for the table, an’ a drunken sair heid!”
“I’ve always provided for you! I’ve always brought home enough meat an’ harvest to see justice done for the whole clan!” Ranald blurted.
She’s brought it back to me again! Why can I never seen to do right in her eyes?
“I know you have Ranald,” Mawrin patiently crossed to the distraught chief. She touched his cheek lightly with her fingers, then run them down into his thick beard. “I never said that you haven’t provided for us a’. What I’m saying is maybe Calach’s a good hunter, he’s a good tracker, an’ a better shot wi’ that bow o’ his would be hard to find. But he’s seventeen summers old now. He needs more. Since the spring, I’ve seen a longing in his eyes for more than he has, an’ I don’t think that it’s just his lass down in Blane. Right now I think that he needs to travel, to spread his own wings. He needs to find an’ develop the skills that he’ll need to lead the clan after you!”
The mention of the passing on of the chieftainship was the final straw, Ranald turned his back on his wife and stormed out of the room. With loping strides he ran down the staircase and out of the broch, tearing down the door-curtain on his way.
“If a man can’t be a man in his own home, then...” he muttered to no one in particular, as he threw the curtain to the ground.
As he passed out of the inner courtyard into the town he gradually slowed to a saunter, breathing heavily, scuffing his feet as he walked.
Maybe Calach’s leaving was inevitable.
Just after the feast of midsummer, when the celebrations had died down, the first crops harvested, the second planted, and the stores full of venison, Calach had come to see him, on what he had officially announced as ‘clan business’.
This had put Ranald on edge immediately. This was the first time that Calach had used the term and Ranald knew what ‘clan business’ Calach was going to ask Ranald’s decision on.
After receiving Ranald’s permission to begin, Calach had asked if he could travel and see Ma’damar’s capital, Bar’ton. At the mention of Ma’damar’s name Ranald had erupted and forbade him.
I should have listened to him first.Then I could have said no, and the command would have stood.
We argued like never before. If I had been a good father, this would never have happened.
Ranald’s refusal to listen t
o ‘clan businesses had given Calach to approach the matriarch. With his ‘clan business’ unresolved, Calach had then, rightly, gone to his mother and asked her permission.
To his shame, it had taken Ranald three days to realize Calach was missing. When he had asked Mawrin if his son was down in Blane visiting his girl, and been told the truth of the matter, he had erupted.
The more he walked through the town, the more he came to realize that he had been wrong from the beginning. Calach had acted properly, invoking the ‘clan business’ avenue. He had not heard the request in full, although he knew what it was going to be. Mawrin had looked at the situation, decided that it did not contravene the Primary Laws, and allowed their sons to travel.
Calach and Lachlan were on their way to Bar’ton.
Ranald walked around the settlement, passing clanspeople going about their evening chores. He had a long protracted conversation with two builders who were repairing one of the northerly brochs about the qualities of certain types of stone, and the mild weather, but his mind was not properly focused. He was thinking of a lone young warrior, who had a bit of the wanderlust about him. He was thinking of his two eldest sons, who would soon be witnessing sights that he, as clan chief, had never seen.
On returning to the inner ring, he mounted the steps that led to the wooden walkway that ran along the wall, linking the five brochs. He leant on the wall and looked over the main part of Lochery, over the outside defenses, down the glen across the planted fields at the fading sunlight. A fine sunset was under way and he breathed deeply, quieting his anger at his son and his wife.
