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

By Ian Hall

Caledonii Birth of a Nation. (Part Three: The Coming of Age)
The year is 75 AD. The druid’s attempt to unite the clans failed last year. To aid the chief’s sons plot to unite the clans, Calach travels to the southern fortress of Bar’ton.
Keeping the plan from the druids, Calach’s younger brother Uwan’s druid training has become more rigorous.
Calach must be patient if he wants the plan to succeed, his father, Ranald, is more belligerent as time passes. Soon the two will meet; head to head.

This is Part Three of a series, to be released in Novella length pieces.
Part Three is over 110 pages, and runs over 30,000 words.
Comments by readers are welcome.
Ian Hall, the author, spent his childhood 10 miles south of Edinburgh, Scotland, and played in a 2000 year old Roman encampment as a boy.
The Roman story is in his blood.

Part One is entitled; Caledonii: Birth of a Nation. (Part one; The Great Gather), available on Smashwords.
Part Two is entitled; Caledonii: Birth of a Nation. (Part Two; The Druid’s Plan), available on Smashwords.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian Hall
• Release date: Dec 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465936936

Ian Hall

Ian Hall is a former Commander Officer of No. 31 Squadron (1992-4), as well as being the editor and writer of the Squadron Association's three-times-a-year 32-page newsletter. He is the author of Upwards, an aviation-themed novel currently available as a Kindle download. This is his first full-length historical study, having previously penned a 80-page history of No 31 Squadron's early Tornado years.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright © Ian Hall. Hallanish Publishing at Smashwords Inc.

All rights reserved, and the author reserves the right to re-produce this book, or parts thereof, in any way whatsoever.

ISBN 9781465936936

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Roman/Scottish Fiction already by Ian Hall on eBooks;

Caledonii: Birth of a Nation. (Part one; The Great Gather).

Caledonii: Birth of a Nation. (Part Two; The Druid’s Plan).

Factual analysis, alternative history;

The Roman Invasion of Scotland. (A Scottish Rant on Ancient Roman Political Spin.)

Caledonii: Birth of a Nation.

(Part Three: The Coming of Age)

By Ian Hall

Table of Contents.

Chapter 9. Calach goes to Bar’ton. Summer 75AD

Chapter 10. The Meatae Capital. Summer 75AD

Chapter 11. A Wasted Year. Autumn 76AD

Chapter 12. The Calm. 77AD

The Story so far…..

The Romans invaded England in 43AD, colonized for thirty years, and have turned their heads northward.

In 74 AD They begun building two long roads north, ready for invasion.

The Norlands dhruids tried to unite the separate clans, but the ‘great gather’ broke down due to petty tribal squabbles.

In secret, the chief’s sons have allied together, determined to unite the clans against the oncoming Roman threat. Calach of the largest clan, Caledonii, and Finlass of the Meatae are the principle conspirators.

Kheltine, (the old arch-druid) in his dying words has told Calach that he has a vision that only through Calach’s leadership can the clans be victorious.

Meanwhile, the chief’s sons Calach and Finlass meet regularly to push the plot home.

Chapter 9.

Calach goes to Bar’ton. Summer 75AD

As Sewell walked over the last hill to Lochery, he almost cried at the familiarity of his home town.

His last year had been one he would rather forget, but he knew that the consequences of it were going to take decades to dissipate.

Last summer he had left Calach in Votadini country, and travelled west searching for support for Quen’tan’s rise to Arch-dhruid. If the dhruids did not accept the Meatae dhruid, he was prepared to stand himself.

Pell had proven far too strong for him, and he raced south, trying to encourage southern dhruids to side with him.

They had not.

From summer, through winter, the dhruids raged against each other. Spring on Mona came and went, until, in one final conflict, Pell had become superior; possibly the youngest arch-dhruid ever.

Kheltine is gone. Sewell’s staff punctuated his paces.

His recollection of the old arch-dhruid was not altogether lucid. Dark shadows hid some parts of the ritual performed for the Pell, but he was not proud of his choice.

As he walked through the open gates, the clansmen nodded ‘hello’; he had been gone for almost a year. He made for the dhruid’s broch, satisfied to be home again. He swore under his breath that it would be a long time before he left again.

~ ~ ~

The lone warrior stood, silhouetted against the deep blue of the late afternoon sky. He held his spear at his side, standing on one of the rocks on a ridge at the end of the glen. The three riders had seen him from a long way off.

Sentry. Calach spoke softly to his two companions, as they approached the figure. It’s standard practice to show one man, draw you towards him, then have two or three behind, to spring the trap. The riders have no easy defense against it. Even if the sentry position is rushed by a large group, at the very least someone gets away to alert the village.

So what happens if it’s a trap this time? Lachlin was looking around, slightly wide-eyed.

Hush, Lad! Aysar grinned. Let the system work.

Lachlin started to inspect the slopes on either side.

Keep your eyes to the front. Calach said quietly, his lips hardly moving.

Why?

Calach briefly remembered his younger days; training, learning, always seeming to ask the wrong, stupid questions, always seeming to be doing things incorrectly. He sympathized with his brother. .

Plenty o’ time to talk later. Calach said quietly, hoping Lachlin got the point.

The warriors reined in their horses and motioned Lachlin to do the same. They had reached a talking distance that was safe for both parties.

Who travels in Meatae land? The sentry shouted, taking his cue from the halting of the horses.

Calach sat forward in his saddle.

Calach, firstborn, and Lachlin, nextborn; sons o’ Ranald; the chief o’ clan Caledon. We travel wi’ Aysar, son o’ Thee’dor, from the same clan. Calach announced proudly. He caught Lachlin from the corner of his eye. He was looking up at him, a surprised look on his face. Calach surmised that it was perhaps the first time he had heard his proper title used. When he was back in Lochery, Calach had seen Lachlin often at play with Fetasius, Benelek and Uwan. In their games they were probably all noble chiefs, ridding the lands of the oppressive foes, but this was the real thing, and it would seem strange to him at first. Who stands an’ asks the questions?

Padraig, head man o’ the village o’ Ardle. The figure gestured with his spear at the land behind him. Why do you seek passage into the land o’ the Meatae?

The fact that the sentry is the head of the village means that we’re expected. They’ve probably seen us coming and had us watched for most of the day.

We come wi’ Ma’damar’s blessing, Calach called, and he held up the boars-head talisman to let the sentry see, An’ we carry Ma’damar’s personal guarantee. He held the talisman to either side, apparently showing it to the bushes. We travel to Bar’ton to see Ma’damar himself.

Then a voice shouted from Calach’s right; It’s fine Padraig, he is who he says he is; Finlass described him perfectly an’ he mentioned the talisman. Calach smiled inwardly at Lachlin’s reaction. The young Caledon had visibly jumped in the saddle when he had heard the new voice. If Calach had not known the protocol they were caught up in, he might have been surprised too.

Aye alright, Maipeth. Padraig quickly closed the distance to the mounted men. When he reached talking distance he stopped and bowed slightly.

Greetings, Calach. Welcome to Ardle. The short, stocky warrior smiled and held his upturned palm in greeting. His long reddish brown hair was swept back over his brow, revealing a craggy, hard worn face. His long sword was buckled across his back, the two-handed grip showing over his left shoulder. This.... he indicated the warrior coming through the bushes to their right, is Maipeth, an’ second in the village.

First and second in the village. We are important!

Calach slipped to the ground. Greetings to you both. He nodded to the others that they should dismount.

Finlass will be glad to see you are a’ well. Padraig said. There’s been Romans sighted in the area; I only found out yesterday.

We came across some, two days ago, Calach walked beside the head man. Gave us quite an adventure; we’ve hardly stopped since then and it’s been a long ride.

Where did you see them? The Meatae replied quickly, his voice suddenly serious, the smile temporarily gone. And how many?

A good two days northeast, Padraig. Calach rubbed his fingers roughly through Lachlin’s hair to the boys obvious distaste. Lachlin here came across them, an’ we only just got away.

Calach killed one! Lachlin stopped, turning back to his horse. He struggled to untie a large bundle fastened to the saddle, wrapped in dirty clan linen.

Did he now? Padraig’s eyes questioned Lachlin. Killed one did he? He approached Lachlin, looking over the boy’s shoulder.

Hush. Calach said. We’ll tell him later. Calach felt a twinge of shame as he remembered being sick that night. It had not been the food, Calach was sure that it had been the shock of killing his first man.

Nay boys, never be modest about killing Romans. Padraig watched Lachlin struggling with the cord tying the bundle. It’s a pastime we’ll a’ have to get used to very shortly.

Calach’s questioning stare at Padraig’s remark was lost as Lachlin pulled the Roman’s helmet out from under the wrap. I captured a trophy! The young Caledonii grinned excitedly. He held the helmet out