Chapter 23

Eoric spent as much time as possible with his family over the next few weeks. The people of Lorne were busy bringing in the harvest that would ensure they had sufficient grain to support them over the coming year. Eoric spent time walking through the woods and fields around Taynuilt, letting the two boys connect with nature. Now that the boys were up on their feet and their abilities had been shared with the girls, nappies were a thing of the past and they could now sport their own miniature kilts.

Angus, with his sandy brown hair and intense blue eyes, proved to have an uncommon affinity for the trees and those creatures that dwelled in them. It was all Eoric could do to stop the boy either climbing or trying to fly up into the canopy as they wandered through the forest.

Connall was blond and had his mother's eyes. He showed more of a liking for the fields and the water than his half-brother and Eoric could sense that the boy felt the same 'pull' from the sea that he himself did.

Both the children continued to be hungry for knowledge and this led to periods of incessant questioning. Eoric found he sometimes had to draw some energy from nature just to keep himself from being tired out as he tried to keep up with everything they wanted to know. The mental communication between the father and his sons was strong and individually, each of the boys seemed to have a permanent connection to his mother.

All too soon for the family, the harvest was in and Eoric prepared himself for his mission to the far north. The boys clamoured to be allowed to go with him, but even Eoric had to concede they were too young. On a sun kissed morning in early September, he kissed and hugged each of them and then waved as he set out for the lands of the clan Angus.

At first his journey took him through countryside he had already travelled before. He kept his speed down a little so he could appreciate the scenery as he travelled the length of Loch Etive northwards. He followed the path of the River Etive for a few more miles then forded it and set his sights on the 'Devil's staircase' pass through the mountains in Glen Coe.

This was Eoric's favourite time of the year for being out in the highlands and he breathed the cool, clear mountain air as he ran. Sometimes he mimicked the calls of the many birds that flew around him, more than once attracting eagles who believed they were being called by their mates.

By mid-day he was already passing the head of Loch Leven and he stopped here to catch and cook some fish. His way north was now blocked by a range of imperious mountains, perhaps twelve or more of them and all over three thousand feet high. He was forced westwards along the banks of Loch Leven, through the Glenrigh forest until he met the shores of Loch Linnhe. As he ran alongside the loch, he could see that a second and even higher, more magnificent range backed the first range of mountains.

He stopped running to gaze up at Ben Nevis. He had heard some of the people of Taynuilt describe this peak and he had been increasingly aware of its deep roots and soaring heights as he neared it. It reared up before him, almost four and a half thousand feet high, its summit already white with snow this early in the year. From somewhere deep inside himself he felt those parts that were faery begin to sing a bold song of praise for the mountain and he soon caught the refrain and added his own human voice in a melody.

Shaking himself, he bowed to Ben Nevis and started running once more, buoyed by everything that was around him. He had to skirt a smallish settlement at the head of Loch Linnhe and then his route took him along the shores of Loch Lochy, nestled in the valley that was Glen Gloy.

Eoric now struck out almost due north, cutting across Glen Moriston and on towards Glen Affric and further still until he reached the same Strath Bran that Donachd had marched his Antrim men through the summer before. He climbed a relatively small hill, An Cabar, and descended to rest for a while at the head of Loch Fannich.

Another full day of running, now through countryside that required him to take numerous winding and twisting glens as his road through the mountains, brought him closer and closer to the sea once more. Eoric could feel the water with every nerve and sinew, as it pulled on him like a physical thing.

He had felt virtually no other human presence as he passed through the mountains and he assumed they were so rugged as to afford little sustenance either for plants or stock. Now as he neared the settlement he had heard described by Eochaid - Dòrnach (modern day Dornoch) - the land became flatter and more fertile as it rolled down from the mountains to the Dornoch Firth.

The firth was a dramatic setting in and of itself, with a vast expanse of sandy beach on both sides. Eoric could sense a mass of humanity at a spot some four miles away from him, on the other side of the firth. He stripped off and wasted no time in throwing himself into the seawater, easily holding his clothes out of the sea as he swam. Within minutes he had completed the crossing to the other side and he waded ashore onto the sand before pulling his clothes on once more.

Eoric approached the settlement cautiously until he could identify its occupants were indeed Celts and not Picts. Once he was sure of that he focussed on removing his natural camouflage and made himself known to a pair of herders who were watching over a flock of sheep. The gaelic used by the herders was almost the same as his own, but with a few odd words that he didn't recognise.

"Well met, my friends. I seek whosoever rules these lands," he said to the men.

They looked at him curiously. It was clear that they weren't used to meeting strangers, certainly not strangers who spoke their own tongue so well.

"And what would a wee laddie your age be wanting with Angus Dhu (black Angus)?" one of them replied.

"I may be young, friend, but I am the Lord of Lorne and my business is with your lord," Eoric responded.

The claim to be a lord and the use of the name Lorne had an immediate effect and one of the herders volunteered to act as guide. The settlement was scarcely a mile further on and Eoric's senses had already identified that it was home to around four hundred men, women and children. His guide led him through a set of wooden gates that were set in a circular wooden palisade and on towards what was clearly the main structure of the camp.

At the doorway to Dornoch's main hall, the herder paused and held a whispered conversation with a man who was sitting at one of the first tables they came to. The man rose and walked over to Eoric.

"Innes here says you claim to be the Lord of Lorne and that you are seeking words with King Angus Dhu," he said.

"I do not claim to be Lord of Lorne, I am. If King Angus is the one who rules here, then that is who I am seeking," Eoric responded.

He felt himself being scrutinised by the other man and his hackles began to rise. When he made a quick connection he found that the man was questioning his status on the grounds of his age and he learned that his name was Farlan mac Duff. Eoric decided to shock the man a little for his discourtesy.

"Instead of disbelieving my identify, Farlan mac Duff, I suggest you would be doing your King greater service by taking me to him without further delay. Tell him that Eoric mac Eochaid brings a message from Dalriada," he said.

The use of Farlan's name did indeed bring a look of surprise to the man's face. The use of the name Dalriada also seemed to convince him to take Eoric directly to King Angus.

The King was in fact sitting at his own table in the hall and Farlan guided Eoric towards him. Eoric could see immediately why the King was called black Angus. He had long jet-black hair and swarthy skin. Thick, bushy black eyebrows and what seemed to be a permanent scowl dominated his face.

"Sire, I have here one who calls himself the Lord of Lorne and who says he brings a message from Dalriada," Farlan said.

Eoric was amazed to see the King's face totally transform as a wide grin lit up his features. His deep brown eyes turned on Eoric and his smile was reflected in the glint they held.

"Those are names I have only heard recently in song and in legend," Angus said, "yet by the looks of you, you're real enough."

"Well met, Sire. Indeed I am real and I bring a message from your distant cousin, Eochaid Buide, King of Dalriada. Eochaid is directly descended from Fergus Mhor mac Erc, Sire, of the old stock," Eoric replied.

At the mention of Eochaid's lineage, Angus sat up straighter and he looked the more excited. Eoric was treated to a large beaker of ale and encouraged to share with the King everything that had been going on in Dalriada. When he covered the campaign against the Picts and the fact that Donachd had captured Inverness the previous summer, Angus exclaimed in surprise.

"By the rood! So close, if only I had known. We have little trouble from the Picts, as they find the trek through the mountains too tiring for their short legs perhaps," he laughed, "neither are they big on boats. So, despite the fact that Inverness is less than a score of miles away, we seldom see the savages. If I had but known of your plans, Eoric. If I had but known, I could have joined you and held Inverness after the Picts had been defeated. No doubt the heathens will already be back there and will have strengthened their defences."

"You may well have the rights of it, Sire. They had just begun to build defences when Donachd and his men attacked last year. They may be savages, but they learn quickly from their mistakes," Eoric replied.

Eoric now expanded the discussion to try and bring King Angus to publicly voice his support for a further campaign against the Picts. He had connected with the King and read his thoughts quickly so he knew that Angus was already imagining how much stronger he would be if he could annex Inverness and the surrounding Moray lands. Eoric felt that a public declaration would achieve all that Eochaid had asked of him.

"If King Eochaid was to lead another expedition from Dalriada, would you unite your own forces against the Picts then, Sire?" he asked.

Angus looked thoughtful for a few moments and Eoric knew he was calculating how many men he would need to commit, what his casualties might be and setting that against the potential gains. Angus Dhu came to the conclusion that such a chance might be long in coming again. Better by far to fight the Picts with the overwhelming odds that the Dalriada army would give, than to ever try and take Inverness himself.

"When, my Lord of Lorne?" Angus asked bluntly.

"It will be next spring now at the earliest, Sire. Eochaid is occupied in Antrim once more and by the time he returns the passes through the mountains will be blocked by snow," Eoric answered.

"Has Eochaid committed his full strength in Ireland?" Angus now enquired.

"Noooo," Eoric hesitated, as he could read where Angus was going next.

"Could not you, my Lord of Lorne, lead a force from Dalriada before the snows?" Angus asked, his use of Eoric's title a flagrant attempt to influence him with a little flattery.

Now it was Eoric's turn to reflect. An early strike, if successful, would in all likelihood leave the Picts short of food for the winter months. There was a good chance that much of their harvest would be in and stored at Inverness. If they could capture that it would be a significant blow against the enemy and one that would leave them far weaker come the spring. He wondered whether it would be possible to persuade King Beli and his Strathclyde Celts to try another raid into the north. With his own Lorne levies uncommitted currently, it was just possible he could raise around one thousand men quickly enough to have an attempt at this.

"I cannot promise, Sire. There might be a chance, but only if I can persuade the King of Strathclyde to join us also. He has his eyes set on some of the fertile lands in Strath Tay and any defeat for the Picts would make that the more likely," Eoric said at last.