hill less than a mile from the King’s army. No new troops had yet joined his fast and mobile force, but as an old strategist, he knew that his force could hound and harry the larger army from the rear, preventing them from bringing their might to bear upon the defenders of the Keel.
As the heavy rains fell, Lord Donegal’s ranks began to swell, but not from the hoped for reinforcements sent by the Barons. At first it was just a man here and there, but soon whole companies were abandoning their hilltop posts. Tales of men burned to ash by lightning and of strange shapes and signs in the fog were freely given by men convinced that the gods themselves opposed the High King’s will in this. The King’s Northern Army, comprised mostly of sons of the north, knew well enough the fate of any force which opposed the will of the gods. As these men were brought before Lord Donegal, they swore to uphold him, knowing him to be a man of character, and were pardoned. As these forces were added to his own, his ranks swelled until it became difficult to keep his force hidden.
As what remained of the King’s Army descended from their camp doggedly preparing to follow their orders, Donegal using his own heavy horse as the center of his force, swept forward and just as the defiant notes of Lord Achill’s horns sounded, he had his trumpeters answer. The advance of the King’s Army stuttered to a ragged halt. Both the King’s men and the defenders of the Keel watched the brow of the hill, wondering what sight their eyes might behold. A joyous cheer went up along the Keel as Lord Donegal, at the head of his thousand horse, rode over the crest of the hill, the rising sun at his back obscuring his numbers. The King’s Army, under flag of truce, surrendered on the spot without a blow struck or arrow fired. Donegal was a legend in the north, and none of the commanders of the King’s Army would oppose him; most chose to join him when amnesty was offered.
Aeden and Fianna had heard this story in every fold and cot as they passed through the northern countryside. One by one the Lords of the north and west of the country had joined the cause, committing their banners to serve under Lord Donegal’s own, and now Eire was a country divided.
Many in the provinces yearned for the war, but both Aeden and Fianna already knew that a war would not be the grand adventure that many of the younger folk thought it would be. Half a century had passed since Eire had seen a war on the scale that this one threatened, and those few who still lived that had experienced that conflict had mostly been very young then.
They discussed it almost constantly, surprised at how much they agreed on the matter. Even though they had reached a consensus on the war, a solution that didn’t end in tremendous amounts of bloodshed eluded them. When the King came north with his southern armies, he would not surrender. Both had come to accept that the violence that was about to break upon the good people of Eire could not be averted, and now they simply desired to complete their small part in it and try their best to protect and provide for their families.
“I’m telling you Aeden, the battle will be met here” Fianna said, not for the first time.
“You may be right, certainly the plain here would provide much that a large army would need, and plenty of room and cover for maneuvers” Aeden replied. “I’m just saying there are equally likely places where the fighting might occur.”
Based on what they knew of the movements of both forces, Aeden had to admit that Fianna’s reasoning was valid, but he just couldn’t imagine anything so monumental occurring so near to Bretharc. The history of the region belied his personal experience, he knew, but having grown into his manhood here in the sleepy little farming community, dreaming all the while of the very sort of excitement that he now wished he could stop, it just didn’t seem possible.
Aeden knew that given his lineage, a quiet and sedate life was not something he could hope to enjoy. The son of a goddess would be drawn to the worries of the world like a moth to flame, but he now understood how desirable the life of a simple farmer could be and would not have the people that he knew and loved suffer the pains that a war in their vicinity would inevitably bring.
The debate that wasn’t a debate ended as it had time and again with both lost in their own thoughts, vainly wishing they could find an answer. They were on the edge of the hog fields when Aeden’s senses began to warn him that something was amiss. He couldn’t place what it was at first but it finally registered. The herds were roaming the fields as they always did, but there was not one single farmer in sight.
Pigs didn’t require much tending, but this time of year they were usually left in the fallow potato fields rooting up the tubers that had escaped the prior summers harvest while the farmers mended fences or cleared new fields to provide for the growing herd. On the open plain someone should have been visible.
They had not intended to just stroll into town. It was highly unlikely that anyone could expect them to return here after so long, but they didn’t want to take any chances. The sudden appearance of the pair after so long would inevitably lead to question and attention. Quinn’s family in particular would be hard to face. Still something was going on in Bretharc, and they needed to proceed with a good deal of caution.
Aeden led Fianna back through the trees to where he and his friends had played for so many hours. They visited poor Liam’s grave and were pleasantly surprised to find the site covered in a veritable blanket of snowdrops in full bloom upon the low mound that marked his final resting place. It warmed them both to think that the land he had protected so diligently now enfolded him within itself and grew such beauty to mark the spot. They stood silently for a time, paying their respects for the man who had given his life to preserve their own. Then, with spirits renewed, moved to the small shelter that had served as both refuge and recreation throughout Aeden’s boyhood.
“We slip across the fields as soon as it is dark, and while you cover me from the big oak just at the edge of the village, I’ll sneak in and talk to my father. He can gather yours and once we are certain no one else is about, you can join us” Aeden proffered as a simple plan.
“Why do you take the risk? I should go in and collect our fathers” Fianna countered.
“Sure, if you want me covering you with the bow” Aeden replied laughing softly. No matter how much he worked at it he just couldn’t fire a bow with anything like reliable accuracy.
“Fine, but don’t foul up the plan by tripping all over yourself or some other ungodly nonsense” Fianna sulked. As his laugh continued at her unintended pun, she looked at him sharply. Finally realizing what she had said that was so very funny, she smiled herself, but she was still not happy that once again Aeden would be putting himself in harm’s way while actively trying to shield her from danger that she felt they should rightfully share.
They made it across the quiet fields without a hitch and watched as lamps were lit in the cottages and huts across the village. The complete lack of activity outside the houses was a little disconcerting but they had no choice other than to proceed if they wanted the answers to the riddle of what was happening here.
Aeden waited until Fianna was settled onto a solid branch before moving as quietly as he could toward his father’s small cottage. The quiet alone bespoke something was wrong in Bretharc. By now a dog should have caught his scent and bayed or the laughter and play of the village children within the square should have been loud and clear at this distance, but Aeden heard nothing and the silence frightened him.
The distance to his father’s door was not great, but it seemed to take forever moving so slowly. Checking carefully once more, he wrapped quietly upon the door and waited for a response. Just when he thought no one had heard and raised his hand to knock once more upon the wood planks, the door swung inward few inches. In the very faint light of the room he could see his father’s surprised expression as he peered out.
Suddenly gathering himself, his father opened the door farther and beckoned him inside. “You shouldn’t have come back” he whispered, looking about as if his very hom
e might betray him.
“Fianna and I have come on behalf of the new High Druid. He specifically asked us to check on the village as we gathered information about the King and what has been happening here in Eire” Aeden replied, studying the worry lines on his father’s face that had not been their when he left.
“It’s a trap son, you have to go now” his father said.
Aeden had never seen his father so upset. The man was not prone to hysterics. “We know the risks father. We have come to see to the needs of the families. When you are all safe we will be on our way, but not before.”
“The entire village is at Longford son” Aeden’s father replied. “Somehow they knew you would be coming and that you would come to me first. They kept me here and sent the remainder of the village to a stockade at Longford where the garrison watches over them as prisoners.”
Aeden didn’t understand who “they” were, or how they knew that he would be here, but he did know that he had to get his father away and then he and Fianna could figure out what to do about the others.
“Come with me father” Aeden said. “Fianna and I will get you out of here.”
“Son, these aren’t soldiers here.