The White Mare: The Dalraida Trilogy, Book One (54 page)

‘Do not listen to him, lord,’ Gelert began, and a host of other voices joined him.

But as the din grew in volume, Calgacus finally roared, ‘Quiet!’ The lash of his voice was impressive, and had the desired effect. ‘I wish to hear the prince of Erin speak. And the next person to say
anything
,’ he glared at Gelert, Lorn, and at his own men, ‘will have to fight with me, hand to hand. Now sit down, all of you.’

In a moment Eremon was alone in the middle of the floor again, but this time the hostility in the room was palpable.

‘I did not lie,’ he said again. ‘The druid asked me if I could help the Epidii against the Romans, and this is what I agreed to. And so far, I am
fulfilling my bargain.’ He swept them all with proud eyes, and his voice grew louder. ‘Yes, I am exiled, and yes, my uncle is King. And no, I do not have more than a score of men sworn to me. But I tell you this: I have studied how the Romans fight. I met with Agricola himself, and saw how they move and camp and think. Under my leadership, we destroyed a Roman fort. I am as valuable to you as I ever was when you thought me a landed prince – more so, for I have something to prove, something to win!’ He speared Calgacus with his eyes, his head high. ‘If the Epidii break the alliance with me, then others in Alba would welcome a leader such as I. Mark me.’

Lastly he looked at Lorn. ‘Mark also that this man who accuses me, who sought to bring me low, is the fiercest warrior of the Epidii.’

Lorn’s eyes widened.

‘The druid forged this breach between us, but in doing so, has played right into Roman hands.’ He appealed directly to Lorn. ‘We are brothers-in-arms. If we cannot hold a tribe together, then how can we hold Alba? How can we resist the Romans? You saw them, you fought beside me. You know I’m right.’

Lorn broke his gaze and put his head down, shaking it.

There was silence, but of what kind, Eremon could not tell. Then Calgacus was by his side. ‘Prince, how old are you?’

‘Twenty-one years, my lord.’

‘So at such an age, when faced with the vilest of betrayals, the loss of a father, and one hundred warriors to your score, you made your escape with your men’s lives intact?’

Eremon’s heart leaped at the light in the King’s eye. ‘Yes.’

‘You then crossed a sea with nothing, but managed to win an alliance within a moon. You attacked the invaders and won. You crossed Alba to challenge us, the strongest of tribes, and faced down a council of hard men, using bold words to turn our hearts. Not once, but twice.’

Eremon smiled. ‘Yes.’

‘And do you plan to seek your throne, prince?’

‘On my father’s honour, my lord. And I will win it back.’

‘I can well believe it.’ The King’s mouth lifted in a private smile, and he turned to face his men. Before he spoke, he reached out and put a hand on Eremon’s shoulder.

‘My council has made its decision for the tribe, and I must abide by it. But I say this to you all: here stands the most courageous and resourceful of men. As he says, he is even more valuable as an ally because of who he is and what he has done, not in spite of it. From now on, let it be known that he has my personal support.’

There was a strangled cry from Gelert. ‘But this man gained his alliance falsely! He has no men, no army!’

Calgacus’s disdain for the druid was clear. ‘Then we admire his
bravery all the more; to take so little and turn it into so much! Such a man makes a true king: you should thank Manannán for bringing him to you.’

Gelert’s eyes blazed with a wild rage. ‘We gave him our Ban Cré, made him the father of our royal heir!’

‘His blood is noble enough. But then, there is the matter of the Lady Rhiann.’ Calgacus faced Eremon. ‘Her honour must be maintained.’

Eremon nodded. ‘The year-marriage can be broken when we return to Dunadd.’

‘It is well.’

Gelert’s mouth dropped open. The hatred in his eyes scalded Eremon’s skin, and then without another word he gathered his cloak around him and swept from the hall. Lorn followed him, hesitantly, it seemed, and glanced back at Eremon once.

The Caledonii nobles stood stiffly, unsure how to react to Eremon in the light of their King’s pronouncement. Eremon’s men swirled around him, but behind them, Eremon could see the eagle eyes of Calgacus, regarding him with pleasure.
Well done, my son
, they seemed to say.

Eremon had never heard those words from his father.

For the first time since he left Erin, the hard knot of betrayal around his heart began to ease.

Rhiann had sought refuge from her humiliation over Drust in the house of the Caledonii Ban Cré. She was there, showing the old priestess a new wound herb she had gained from the traders, when Caitlin’s flying feet found her.

‘Rhiann, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!’ Caitlin’s chest was heaving as she struggled to draw breath. ‘I ran the length of the walls and back!’

‘What is it?’

Caitlin glanced at the other priestess, hesitating. The old woman’s instincts were keenly honed; with twinkling eyes she excused herself, suddenly remembering a prior engagement.

Caitlin hopped from foot to foot with impatience, as the woman gathered a wool shawl around her and took up her medicine bag. As soon as the door flap fell back into place, Caitlin drew Rhiann to the hearth-bench, the words spilling from her mouth, relating everything that had transpired at the council.

‘Oh, Rhiann, you should have seen him!’ Caitlin’s face was glowing. ‘And Calgacus stood up by Eremon, and Gelert was chased from the hall!’

Rhiann listened, the rosemary leaves crushed in her fist, until at last Caitlin faltered.

‘Goddess!’ Caitlin’s glow faded. ‘I was not thinking, Rhiann, I’m sorry. He lied to you, I know. This must hurt you.’

Rhiann stared at the wall, the pungent herb smarting her eyes. All along she knew he was hiding something, that he was not all he seemed. Yet, as his successes grew, she had ceased to think on it.

Caitlin’s small, white hand covered her own. ‘Rhiann, if only you could have heard what he actually said – you would not be as upset, I know it. I’ll tell you what I remember.’ And she repeated Eremon’s speech, nearly word for word. ‘He means to do the best for us all. He was forced into an impossible situation, but he faced it with courage. That counts for something, Rhiann, doesn’t it?’

Rhiann glanced at her, saw the hopeful look. ‘I – I just need some time to think on this.’

‘Of course you do! But,’ Caitlin bit her lip, ‘it doesn’t need to change everything. You know that Eremon is the war leader we need. And now he has the personal support of Calgacus.’ At Rhiann’s silence, she rushed on. ‘However, I know that does not change how you feel. And Rhiann, as a warrior, I follow him, but my loyalty is with you. If you want to cast him out, then I will support you.’

Caitlin could win a smile from a stone.

Eventually, after many reassurances, Rhiann convinced Caitlin to leave her there so that she could think. And how did she really feel?

She brushed the rosemary needles from her fingers, swallowing the lump of anger. The liar! Gaining her hand when he was a landless, friendless nobody! If the truth had been known at the start, she never would have been forced to marry him. And then he had dared to criticize her, last night, for not being what he expected!

It was then that her thoughts roamed to Drust, and the bitterness of the little scene in his workshed rose up once more. Her hopes there had been extinguished, but where did that leave her? If she did reject Eremon, would the council just marry her to someone else? Or, if Caitlin married, would they leave her alone? Perhaps, after all, she could join Linnet on the mountain.

Perhaps.

Think! She must think, and quickly.

She emerged from the lodge, expecting to see a crowd of people staring at her. But everyone was going about their business as usual. As she reached the yard before the gate tower, a party on horses was leaving the dun: Gelert, his druids, and some of the Epidii warriors. The Chief Druid must be going home, after his humiliation. She peered at each warrior in turn, but could not discern Lorn among them.

Rhiann paused, twisting her hair around her finger. She knew she would be receiving another visitor soon, but not what she would say to him. So she took herself up the stairs to the walkway, on the stretch that
faced the sea. It did not make her harder to find, but at least the breeze on the sunlit water braced her spirits, and gave her courage.

Sure enough, it was not long.

There was a cough behind her. ‘Lady,’ Eremon said formally, ‘I assume you have heard my news.’

She did not turn her head, but merely nodded. His presence so close beside her made the anger and hurt surge up anew, and all the reasoned arguments retreat.

‘You can see why I could not tell you.’ He leaned on the palisade next to her. ‘I truly believe that I can do the best for your people. But I needed the chance to prove myself; to show you who I really was, regardless of my kin.’

At her continued silence, he straightened, and from the corner of her eye she saw him put his hand on his sword. ‘I have come now to agree to the severing of our betrothal, which we can finalize at Dunadd.’

She snorted with exasperation and turned, folding her arms, and he stepped back in surprise. ‘Eremon.’ She struggled to keep her voice level. ‘Caitlin told me every single thing that you said in council. And it was true – every word.’

Eremon’s eyebrows rose, and for once, he looked unsure.

‘You
are
valuable, and you
have
proven yourself. Calgacus backs you. With you by my side, I can also do the best for my people. I like what we’ve built.’ She paused. ‘For these reasons, I want the marriage to stand.’

He gasped, and tried to speak, but she held up a finger to stop him. ‘But Eremon, I am so angry with you that I could tear your eyes out right now! If you say one more word, that’s what I’ll do. Now leave me alone and don’t speak to me until we get home. Understand?’

He nodded, but his eyes were shining.

The deck beneath Samana’s feet heaved in the heavy swell. She clung to the mast, exhilarated at the lash of the wind on her cheeks, the drifts of spume catching in her hair. Craning, she could see only islands and dark hills and crashing surf on the rocks, for the sails of the fleet had been lost among the twisting straits.

‘Can we not go closer?’ she begged Agricola over her shoulder.

‘No.’ He stood, hands behind his back, rocking easily with the motion of the ship. ‘I am not here officially, Samana, remember.’

‘But we can’t see anything!’

Agricola smiled. ‘Then use your imagination, my witch. The burning will be the signal, soon enough.’

But the sun had to sink two hand-spans before she saw the smoke at last rise against the sky, clouding it as blood clouds clear water.

Chapter 52

E
remon was saddling Dòrn in Calgacus’s stables, preparing to leave, when he heard the shuffling of feet. At the look on Conaire’s face beside him, he swung around. It was Lorn.

The Epidii warrior was ill at ease, but kept his head high, his eyes fixed on the stable wall. ‘I did not return to Dunadd with the druid.’

Eremon regarded him gravely. ‘I see.’

‘Lugh knows I have tried my best, prince of Erin, but I cannot defeat you. Perhaps the gods have sent you a different fate. The way you faced those men down …’ He looked at Eremon, puzzled. ‘It was not the response I expected.’

‘I will always act so.’

Lorn let his breath out. ‘Urben’s son will be the servant of no druid, only of his own gods. And they seem to favour you, so I will listen.’ He eyed Eremon warily. ‘I do not like you, prince, but I am loyal to my people. What you said … about bonding the Epidii together, the people of Alba together … it felt like truth. A bard’s truth.’

‘And you are far-seeing to sense that,’ Eremon said. ‘I need you by my side.’

‘I have courage too, prince, and boldness. But know that my oath to you only lasts as long as the Roman threat. After we win … who knows?’

‘I will take my chances. Will you ride back with us?’

Lorn nodded.

‘Conaire is my second-in-command in all things,’ Eremon added. ‘Your loyalty to him will not be displaced either.’

Lorn met Conaire’s eyes, but when he spoke, it was to Eremon. ‘I won’t always agree with you.’

‘Nor would I want you to!’ Eremon grinned at Conaire. ‘You don’t accept my every word as law, do you, brother?’

Conaire stretched his massive shoulders, holding Lorn’s eyes. ‘No. But I obey your direct orders.’

Lorn nodded again. An understanding passed between them.

When he had gone, Eremon and Conaire led their horses out into the sunlight.

‘Brother,’ Conaire remarked, ‘let’s get home now before any more surprises come our way. The Epidii cub, giving you allegiance! Hawen save us!’

Eremon smiled. ‘Some have been good surprises, though. Now I have Calgacus’s personal support, a united tribe – and I still have a wife, just!’

Conaire’s grin faded. ‘Eremon, what you said that night in the stable … about Rhiann.’

‘I don’t want to speak of it. It was the ale talking, that is all.’ Eremon buried his head in Dòrn’s flank, tightening his saddle.