Valknut

CHAPTER|13 A Lucky Find

Fergus couldn’t believe his luck. Fourteen years. FOURTEEN goddamned years! That’s how long he had searched for the MacShane survivors. That’s how long he had waited to rid the world of those that had killed his family. Fourteen years they had hid from him. Fourteen  years! And now, just like that, this boy stood before him, ready to give them up.

Just. Like. That. 

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

The longhall at the McDermott’s had definitely seen better days. Certainly the clan flourished when Lady McDermott was alive. Certainly the hall had been a reflection of that ‘prosperity’. Sure the clan, the lands and the hall had been ill-kept and not well cared for after her death. But this. This was definitely different. And different for the worse. The kind of worse that reminded people of hell, or their version of it anyway. 

For fourteen years, the world had made progress. The Romans were becoming more aggressive. Every day, month and year, they inched closer to the North. Alliances made, and enemies crushed. The world was in political turmoil. The strengthening of Northumbria and Pictland becoming their tributary was cause for concern. While the Battle of Dun Nechtain had halted their Northward progress, Northumbria continued to dominate the South. Fragmented clans were desperately in search of alliances against the growing Southern forces. 

And religion. Pagan beliefs were being forced out faster than the sun set every day. In the East, a new religion was formed and was uniting the Arabian and African nations. The Roman Empire stood precariously between them and the Pictish. Monasteries mushroomed to hasten conversion and Christianity was either being welcomed or forced on the local tribes in the North. 

Technology was simplifying living. The heavy plough and horse collar were increasingly gaining popularity. Monasteries were setting up watermills that were more efficient than the tidal mills. The stirrup although introduced to the Romans in the 6th century, was slowly finding its way north in the late 7th century changing the way Knights fought on horses. Battles were becoming bloodier and those that hadn’t caught up, were being eradicated. 

The changes however, seemed to flow past the McDermott’s. They were stuck in some kind of time warp, untouched by politics, religion and technology. Taxes were raised every six months, and no respite was provided in times of drought or snow. Every inch of land was being farmed, there remained no standing forests for hunting. Rivers and wells ran dry for the most part.

To say that people were malnourished and poor would have been an understatement. Thoughts of desertion had plagued people for the better half of those fourteen years. Over time the thinning population did little to appease Fergus. While fewer mouths to feed and shelter might have looked like a blessing to some, it also meant fewer hands to toil on the farms and lesser taxes to line McDermott pockets with.

Eventually the situation became so bad that deserters were hunted and piked in front of the longhall to serve as a warning to others. Peasants never heard of families that made it past the border alive, and soon, they stopped trying. After all, either way they met a bloody death.   

Led by the Dark Knight, the McDermott armies had taken to looting and plundering neighboring clans. All monies were being spent on food, ale, horses and weapons. The land, the keep, the farms saw nothing and no repairs. When little was to gain from neighboring clans, monies were directed towards building a fleet that would engage in piracy along the length of the coast.

To save themselves from such horrors, two neighboring clans had worked out a deal with the McDermott's. The first, the McCullum’s, had offered their daughter’s hand in marriage to Fergus along with a rich dowry. When the dowry ran out, the girl was mistreated. News of her treatment forced the McCullum’s to continue providing for the McDermott’s - an endless suppy of cattle, horses, sacks of wheat and flour. When they could no longer provide, the girl dove from the castle’s highest tower to save whatever little she could of her clan. The second clan, the Campbell’s, learning from the McCullum’s hid their daughters from the McDermott raiding army, but not well enough. And thus Anna Campbell became Fergus’s third wife, and soon followed in the footsteps of the McCullum girl. 

Today, festivities in the longhall had begun. News of a potential fourth wife had reached Fergus. The Shaw’s from the South had had enough of the threat from McDermott piracy. They were hoping their daughter would meet a better fate than the last Lady McDermott. But the sadness in their eyes knew that the fate awaited her. As sad as it made them, they knew they had to try. One life exchanged for the safety of hundreds. 

Part way through the Shaw visit, a boy of only two and ten winters had rushed into the hall. The one word he uttered from his mouth, MacShane, was enough to silence the whole hall. The Shaw’s were escorted out with the promise that talks would continue in a sennight (a week). 

And now that boy stood before Fergus, willing to trade. His family’s life for MacShane secrets.

**Clickey gold star if ye likey :)