Chapter 13: autumn 875 AD

The autumn harvest was in full swing and it had remained peaceful in Dalriada. Scott decided that he and Gabrain could afford to take a trip to visit Murdoch in Fife to see how trade was going there. He had been sending wagonload after wagonload of trade goods over to Fife, in part to free space in his warehouses but also because Murdoch had been urging him to do so, his goods apparently doing well with the Low Country merchants. So far Scott wasn't clear what Murdoch was actually trading his goods for and he thought it was time to find out.

What Scott found when he reached the Fife coast surprised him. There in front of him was a bustling port. The dock had been extended and Murdoch had constructed his own warehousing to accommodate the goods that were coming and going. Scott was particularly moved when he saw the Saltire flying from some of the buildings.

"Once again you were right Scott. There is indeed a strong need for timber of the type that we have here in Fife. Apparently it is far harder wearing than other woods and a favourite for ship masts and furniture. Fife is doing very well out of it."

"Good Murdoch, you needed something to help you get your lands back on their feet after years of Saxon oppression. It also seems that you've managed to drum up some interest in my goods?"

"Yes, and I must say the demand is growing, particularly for uisge beatha and some of your wines. I could also trade all the grain and salt you can send me."

"Excellent Murdoch, excellent. I will see to dispatching as much as I can afford to spare. But, I would like to see what it is that you have been getting for me in return!"

Murdoch led Scott and Gabrain to a warehouse set immediately in front of the dock.

"We use this warehouse for your goods Scott, as they represent the highest volume of our transactions. It pays to have them close to where the ships dock."

Inside the warehouse Scott could see barrels of the Loarne produce and stacks of soap piled up in bricks. He let Murdoch lead him to the far corner of the store until they stood in front of several piles of what looked like metal ingots.

"I am assured by my smiths that this represents a vast fortune Scott. That is why I have these men guarding it day and night." He gestured at a small group of armed men who were loitering nearby.

The ingots turned out to be a mixture. There were a number of pure copper ingots, a smaller number of tin and nickel, but by far and away the greatest quantity was lead.

Scott was delighted. This was real progress. He didn't know very much about metallurgy but he reckoned his smiths would be able to produce any number of alloys using these metals and the iron they already had access too. Bronze, pewter, even stainless steel perhaps? His basic school chemistry also told him that there was something he could do to stop the oxidation of iron using strips of some of these metals.

He declared himself satisfied with what Murdoch had achieved for him, congratulating Murdoch on his own conversion to the world of trade. Scott's first suggestion that Murdoch build a port had been met with almost disdain but now his friend seemed almost zealous in his embracing of the benefits.

"I'm not stupid Scott, I can see the benefits of trade for Fife and god knows she needs it."

They spent a few weeks with Murdoch, sharing their tales of the journey to the Mediterranean and generally just enjoying themselves. He introduced them to one of his favourite pastimes - hawking, and they also went out hunting boar and deer. It was a pleasant way to spend a few weeks but soon Scott was yearning to see his wives, little David and his own people. They took their leave and urged Murdoch to visit them in Loarne before the winter snows came. He assured them he would be delighted to partake of their hospitality.

The pleasant ride back across the country through the mountains, down Glen Dochart and Strath Fillan, basking in the autumn sunshine, was rudely interrupted by the appearance of a swarm of armed men issuing forth from Glen Orchy. Scott's little party of mounted men halted and eyed the men cautiously. Some moments later it seemed they had been noticed because a small number of riders came galloping towards them.

The leader of these men obviously recognised Scott and it was to him he spoke.

"The High King orders you to attend him mac Fergus!" The man said, almost arrogantly.

Scott didn't like the tone that was used and liked even less the implications of anyone from the High King's camp talking to him so on the very edges of his own lordship. He decided he needed to keep his cool at all costs. Dealing with Kings took a lot of patience, guile and sensitivity he had found.

"Certainly, King Gabrain and I would be delighted to meet with his Grace once again." He replied.

They were ushered into the High King's presence, gazing at the mighty host that stretched as far back up Glen Orchy as their eyes could see.

"Hah! Mac Fergus and his pup. You have saved me the rest of the journey man. See you, I am not so old that I have lost my wits. I can see your horse there, its fancy saddle and other gear. I can see the size of your belly man, your rude health. I have come to accept my due from you, that which you have been withholding from me for long enough!"

Scott unobtrusively gripped Gabrain's arm as he sensed the young man bristle at being called Scott's 'pup'. Wolf must also have sensed his young master's agitation because his hackles rose and a low growl issued from his throat.

Scott gazed at Constantine, thinking furiously as to what the High King meant by his bizarre statement. He had withheld nothing from Constantine, had ridden off with his men whenever he had been asked, always supported him. What was he getting at now?

"Your Grace, I am sure that I have held nothing back from you, have always supported your cause and answered your call. What is it that you deem me to have been withholding from you?" Her asked.

"Do not take me for a witless dolt, sirrah! You know well what I mean. Your lands grow fat with my grain, my beasts, aye, and many other goods that you keep for yourself I hear!"

So that was it. Surely it couldn't be as simple as that? It seemed that the High King had come south in huge numbers because he was jealous of the wealth Scott and Gabrain were generating for Dalriada. All these men for that? It couldn't be.

"I'm sure there must be some mistake your Grace. I have taken none of your beasts, none of your grain. What we have here in Dalriada we have grown and raised by our own hands." He stalled, testing his understanding of the situation.

"Don't bandy words with me man, all know that it is mine, mine alone, all of it. Yet you have sent no tributes, kept all for yourself to grow fat on. So, I have come to take what I am due."

Scott looked once more at the many thousands of men the High King had brought with him. It was clear that this was deadly serious. For some reason Constantine had taken real slight at Scott's progress. He was still finding it hard to believe that it was only a matter of jealousy.

"And what do you consider your due, your Grace?" He asked politely.

"All of it man, all of it! But I am not a harsh master, not an ungracious monarch. I will settle for half of what you have squirreled away here. Half I say, to be delivered up within a week!"

Scott was thunderstruck. He realised the High King was indeed serious and that failure to hand over what he was asking for was likely to result in his host descending on Dalriada in full measure. He glanced at Gabrain and could see that young man's face was slowly turning purple. Once more he squeezed the boy's arm, seeking to calm him before any outburst could make things even more difficult.

"But, your Grace, we have no great stock of gear. Most is sent away for trade, the rest is required to feed the people here."

"Enough! You have one week mac Fergus. See you to it!"

With that the High King turned on his heel and it was clear that they had been dismissed. All around them men were looking at them, hostile. They mounted their horses and rode forward; passing the tip of Loch Awe and riding round the foot of Ben Cruachan.

Gabrain hardly waited until he was out of earshot before he let his temper flood from him.

"How dare he! Just who does he think he is that he can come here and demand half of our food and wealth? After all that you have done for him Scott, how dare he! It is not to be borne, High King or no High King, what he proposes is simple robbery! He proclaims himself a tyrant. And what does 'all know it is mine' mean? Where does that come from? Who says it's all his? Not me, not the people of Dalriada, that's for sure!"

"We must try to remain calm Gabrain. Our people will be looking to us for leadership and we owe it to them to have cool heads, to do what is best for them in this pass."

"Say you so Scott? I can assure you, to a man, they will expect us to tell Constantine to go paddle in his River Ness! Rather he should go and demand goods by force from the Saxons or the Danes, not his own loyal Scots."

"In their anger the people might think just that, but we need to see beyond that. I for one am not eager to see Scot fighting Scot. My objectives are to make Scotland strong, to defend her against those who would assail her, not to do the job of our real enemies by fighting their battles for them. See you Gabrain, I know that this has ever been one of the curses of the Scots down through the ages, even all through the centuries of history I know from my time. Scot against Scot. Treachery, division, always at each other's throats, one against another, riddled with internal strife. Rather we should be united, united against all those who covet our lands."