Chapter 15: autumn/winter 875 AD

When Murdoch joined them, Scott clasped his arm, slapping his back in appreciation.

"You were unlooked for my friend, but never have a I seen a more welcome sight I think, Fife's timing couldn't have been better! By what miracle are you here, and with all these at your back?" Scott gestured at the many thousands of men Murdoch had brought with him.

"My scouts brought me word of the High King passing south and east with a great host not long after you left Fife. I know the High King well and it wasn't hard to guess who it was he was moving against. I certainly value and appreciate the help that Dalriada has given Fife, even if Constantine doesn't, and I couldn't sit back and let you face him alone man. Besides, I have a debt to pay and this should have been my chance to do so. Alas, the fact that he has fled the field, my sword un-blooded, means that I am still beholden to you my friend."

Despite what had happened, or perhaps as a result of it, there was something of a holiday atmosphere now in Dalriada. The men had been dispersed for the most part and Murdoch had dispatched his thousands back to Fife. The harvest was in full swing and Scott gave Murdoch a tour of the various products that were being gathered in.

There was now a significant volume of the various vegetables Scott had started growing - carrots, onions, cabbage, turnip, peas and beetroot. Many fields now flourished with the crops and Murdoch exclaimed at both the variety and the quantity. Scott promised to supply Murdoch with seeds so that he could start his own programme of vegetable growing if he so desired.

The scale of the greenhouses was another eye-opener for Murdoch, and when he was shown the sprawling glass structures that covered the crop of rice, he could only scratch his head in wonder.

Scott discussed with the monks how the rice should be harvested and processed. They were puzzled when Scott indicated that he did not want the rice ground down into flour as they had assumed this was just another form of grain, to be treated like all the other types. Scott had no real idea how rice should be ground or bleached to make it white, but was content that brown rice would do well enough for his people. He knew that storing sacks of rice would mean another valuable food staple would be available to his people through the cold winter.

A high point of the next few weeks was the main grape harvest. Scott and all his friends and family pitched-in to help. Although there were a relatively small number of vines, only one slope being covered by them, the quantity of grapes gathered in was still quite respectable. They had been left late and had turned a deep, dark red colour. Scott fully intended most of the wine he would produce would be red wine. He had allowed a small quantity of green grapes to be picked weeks earlier so that a limited amount of white wine could also be made.

The wood workers had made a large wooden vat and the grapes were tipped into it. Scott and the rest enjoyed themselves trampling the grapes in their bare feet, the grapes turning to mush and the juice staining their feet purple. If the mood of those trampling the grapes in any way contributed to the taste of the final wine then this year's vintage would be worth drinking.

The little party made their way to Inveraray to prepare themselves for the coming winter, Murdoch still with them, enjoying himself immensely and discussing with Scott how Fife could be developed to begin producing the wealth of food that Dalriada was achieving. Scott knew that Fife had far better soil and much more of it, so he believed his friend would soon be out-producing them. For some reason that made him happy.

Murdoch also discussed the continuing threat to his lands posed by the ever-warlike Saxons and Vikings. His adoption of Scott's sea defences had helped enormously against the Danes but they were still enjoying some successes up and down his coast. The Saxon's had suffered significant losses but his intelligence suggested the Vikings in the south were forcing Saxons northwards and Murdoch feared there would soon be another attempt to take over his territory.

Scott could see that Murdoch's military position had probably played a part in his decision to come to Dalriada's aid. With little help coming from the High King, Murdoch had to take decisions, form alliances; on the basis of what would strengthen his own position and safeguard his people. Scott could also see that the success of trade in Fife and the growing agricultural developments that he was helping Murdoch take forward would only make attacks on Fife more likely.

This needed a great deal of thought. While Scott had grown to like Murdoch, his first duty was to Dalriada and he had to ensure Fife did not become a drain on the Dalriada strength.

Scott and Gabrain were sitting on the balcony of the house sipping beakers of ale and just enjoying each other's company when Gabrain raised something that had obviously been playing on his mind.

"Scott, this 'democracy' you have mentioned, you seem to set great store by it. Does not asking the people to take decisions mean that there is less need for Lords and Kings?"

Scott was unsurprised that the sharp-witted young man had zoned in on the important implications of giving the people power could have for his own position.

"This is difficult Gabrain. In my time there are still Kings and Queens but they have much less power than you do. Over the years people came to see that leaving the rule of a land and its people in the hands of fate - the bloodline of one family - didn't make sense and could lead to great tyranny and hardship. Take Constantine as an example. Were his demands reasonable? Obviously our people - and yourself Gabrain - thought not. Kingship is fine when there is a strong, intelligent, and fair King. But when a small-minded, greedy, and jealous King rules, then many suffer."

"I can see the sense of that Scott, but if not Lords and Kings, then what? How would we ever get anything organised? Get things done? Who would lead us into battle against our enemies?"

"There are a number of different ways of leading a country see you Gabrain. The people with certain skills can be put in the right positions to do the most good. So, if there are those amongst us that have a natural ability for strategy and tactics then they could be put in charge of training and leading our men. Others might have an aptitude for trade and could be put in charge of that. Democracy is simply put 'government of the people, by the people'. It means that the people have the right to consider the important issues and have their say in the direction, the 'policy' a country should take. After all the outcomes will affect all of them. It is as you and Lachlan said, the people of Dalriada have spilled their blood for this land, it's also their sweat and labour that see things built, things grown. Do they not deserve a share in the riches, a share in determining where Dalriada should go next?"

"I can see there is a lot to think on in relation to this concept of 'government' Scott. For my ownself I am content with many of the things you say. I do not believe I have a God-given right to rule just because of who my father was, but I have a sense that many of the lordly ones would take a great deal of convincing before they would ever consider giving up the power and privilege they have."

"Aye Gabrain, you have the rights of it. But believe me, it will come, in time it will come. The greater the numbers of poor people, the harsher they are treated, the quicker they will turn on the small number, the privileged few, who lord it over them. They will demand that people are valued for what they can do, not who their parents were. Every man must have a dream, should have the opportunity to better himself and to make a life and place for his family. I for one would like to see this Scotland be such a place."

"You haven't been wrong too many times so far Scott - of course having the benefit of knowing how history plays out must help in that. Still, I think you offer a vision of a land worthy of a name, worthy of the love of its people, worthy of a place in the world. I would like to live in such a country too."

Scott smiled at his young friend. He really was proud of how he was developing as a man and this conversation just added to that. To be able to see past the ingrained sense of status, and willingly embrace the rights of others to improve their own position in life, was a giant leap for this time.

Scott's feelings about young Gabrain were brought into sharp focus two days later when he was walking through the Inveraray camp with Murdoch. They were discussing the possibilities for further trade with the Low Countries when Wolf came bounding up, barking loudly. Wolf tried to grab Scott by the arm but he shrugged the beast off, concerned that he seemed over excited. His first thoughts were that he might be reverting to his natural wild state but when he looked at him closely he could see there was no 'killing' look in his eyes.

Wolf continued to try and take his arm then run forward, away towards the camp gates. Scott realised he was trying to lead him somewhere and at last began to follow. Once Wolf saw that he was following he began to run towards the loch. Scott and Murdoch struggled to match the wolf's pace and Wolf had to continually stop so they could keep him in sight.

Perhaps a quarter of a mile further along the loch side they saw four men standing and kneeling around a body lying on a small patch of sandy beach. They backed away from the body as Wolf bounded up to them, barking and pawing at the body. As Scott drew closer he recognised the form as Gabrain and he groaned deep in his chest.

"We are sorry my Lord, the boat, capsized, we couldn't reach him." Said one of the Inveraray fishermen.

"The wolf dragged him to the shore but he was dead by the time he reached this beach. We watched it all my Lord, could do nothing to help."

Scott didn't even pause to answer. He ran straight to Gabrain's body and turned him over on his back. He had been taught emergency first aid as part of his training at school, particularly for swimming lessons, and he now began CPR. He alternated blowing air into Gabrain's lungs, pumping his arms and massaging his chest. All the while Wolf was prancing around, barking excitedly and keeping everyone back from his young master.

After a minute or so there was an explosion of water and bile from Gabrain's mouth as his lungs expelled the water that had filled them. He began coughing and spewing and Scott now moved him into the recovery position, thanking his school for the training that had perhaps saved his young friend's life. He commandeered two plaids from the fishermen and wrapped Gabrain in them before Murdoch helped to carry him back to the house.

As they walked through the camp many people lined the path to the house, the sad, worried looks on their faces evidence of how much the people loved Gabrain too. They got him into the house and lay him in front of the fire. Scott was dragging a bed over, closer to the fire, when the door flew open and Eilean and Fiona burst in, having just heard the news. Another girl was with them too, someone Scott had not seen before. She obviously knew Gabrain if the look on her face was anything to go by. She pushed forward and dropped to the floor, cradling Gabrain's head in her lap. Scott was surprised that Eilean and Fiona seemed to be taking a secondary role in relation to the boy, allowing this girl to see to his needs first. Here was a puzzle that he would need to get to the bottom of, but for now Gabrain needed attention.

The next day Gabrain was up and about almost as if nothing had happened. He was teasing Scott that everybody now thought he could bring people back from the dead and indeed some of the people in the camp were looking at Scott very strangely. Scott explained to Gabrain what he had done and how he had learned it and the young man suggested that he should hold a class for some of the settlement's people. Scott could see the wisdom in this idea. Not only would there be more people able to give emergency treatment, but also the nature of what he had done would lose its mystique and perhaps people would stop looking at him the way they were.