Gavin Smith: The Age of Scorpio

‘What are you telling me? That your people wouldn’t approve?’ Britha asked. She didn’t think that the rest of the Cirig would like what they were doing either, but none would dare challenge her and after all, one of her responsibilities as ban draoi was to treat with the Otherworld. Though this probably wasn’t what they had in mind, Britha mused.

Cliodna’s laugh was short and bitter. ‘My people… they would not understand but nor would they care.’

‘Then what?’

‘I can’t explain… my responsibilities – things that I have no choice but to do…’

‘What are you telling me?’ Britha all but demanded. She was not the most patient of people and she was beginning to feel exasperated. Britha felt she was already being a lot more patient than she would have been with a male lover but then something about their pricks turned them into lack-wits.

Cliodna looked up at her, her long black hair parting. The selkie’s eyes had never looked so alien to Britha. She could see herself reflected in those deep black pools.

‘I’m leaving. I have to go south. I have no choice.’

It was the pain – she actually felt it physically – that made Britha realise just how much she loved Cliodna. At first it had just been for the thrill of it. Then her visits had become more and more frequent. They had swum together. Cliodna had taken her far out into the cold sea on warm days. Guided her through the dangerous currents and fierce tides. The selkie was much more at home in the sea than on land.

Britha hated the tear that ran down her cheek. She could never show weakness. Tears were for the men in their cups listening to laments of ancestors long gone.

‘I don’t want you to go,’ was all she managed.

‘You will. I’m changing. Who you know will soon be gone.’

‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’ Britha hated the desperation in her voice.

Cliodna cocked her head to one side. Her face crumpled with emotion but no tears came. Britha wanted to hate her for the lack of tears.

‘I have to go south, far south. The waters have been poisoned. There’s something…’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Britha said, knowing she couldn’t even as she said it. Cliodna shook her head, looking frightened. She grabbed Britha’s arm, her nails digging in.

‘Promise me you won’t!’ Cliodna all but hissed. Britha looked down at her arm, blood flowing from five wounds where Cliodna’s nails had broken the skin. She looked back up at Cliodna. ‘See?’ Cliodna asked desperately.

‘I’ll not go where I’m not wanted,’ Britha said evenly, trying to compose herself, trying to wrap her pride around herself like armour.

Cliodna took Britha’s head in her hands, leaned forward and kissed her. Britha wanted to resist, but she couldn’t. She wrapped her arms round her lover and reciprocated. Cliodna tasted the salt of her lover’s tears.

‘No matter what happens, please remember that I love you, that I loved you,’ Cliodna said when they finally broke apart. Britha just stared at her, her face stained with tears.

Cliodna stood up. She jumped from the rock. Powerful legs propelled her through the air and into the pool at the mouth of the cave. Sinuous movements carried her rapidly through the water, helped by the webs of skin between her long fingers and toes.

Britha watched her go.

‘Loved?’ she asked an empty cave.

Britha cursed herself and turned to look out at the sea. Hoping that the wind and salt spray would explain her red eyes. Normally grey and rough, the sea was bright blue under a cloudless sky today, an otherwise beautiful day. Talorcan was waiting for her. The finest tracker in the tribe, the short wiry man was considerably less full of himself than the rest of the cateran , or warband. Even so, Britha did not wish him to see her emotion. She looked out at the sea making sure she was fully composed.

‘ Ban draoi? ’

‘Do you know what happens to the curious who follow too closely dealings with the Otherworld?’ Britha asked.

‘The mormaer bid me fetch you – it’s starting,’ Talorcan said. His expression was difficult to read but he seemed to be looking at her as if searching for something. His beard was trimmed, his long dark hair let loose and blowing in the coastal wind. He wore no trews, just his blaidth , which came down to just above his knees. Tattoos spiralled up both legs and also ran down from his temple, across his cheeks to his chin. He had his bow with him, but no weapons of war, just his dirk at his waist.

Britha smiled.

‘More like Cruibne’s worried that I’ve run off with his horse.’

Talorcan nodded but kept his peace. Britha looked at him a while more; he held her look. There was little scar tissue on him: he fought quickly and cleverly when he had to.

Britha went to one of the powerful heavyset ponies that the Pecht favoured. She called it Dark Cloud because its near-black colouring reminded her of storm skies. Britha wrenched the spear that Dark Cloud had been tethered to out of the ground. She retrieved her iron-bladed sickle. Cliodna didn’t like the cold metal anywhere near her. Britha pushed the sickle though the belt that held the rough-spun brown wool robes of her calling closed and then swung up onto the pony, riding it bareback, her legs against the horse’s flanks. She pulled her fringed hood up to protect her eyes from the sun and headed south and west down the coast. Talorcan broke into an easy run to keep up with her.

Ardestie was on a flat plain that looked down on the silver water of the mouth of the River Tatha where it emptied into the cold harsh northern sea. It was a large settlement of about twenty or so roundhouses, wattle and daub structures with conical thatched roofs, surrounded by fields of spelt, bere barley, flax and fat hen. The fields had been hacked out of the soil generations before. Fields not used for crops were grazing for horned Soay sheep and the hairy cattle, not all of which they had stolen on raids. Beyond the cultivated fields were the thick woods that covered all but the most mountainous or boggy parts of the land. In the woods the wolf, lynx, bear and spirits from the Otherworld ruled.

The roundhouses lived in the shadow of the broch, a circular tower of stone blocks at the summit of the Hill of Deer. The broch was a watchtower and place of refuge if they were attacked. From it they watched for raiders from the Fib, the rival Pecht tribe across the river, and the blonde sea devils from the sea and ice far to the north. It also provided them with sight up the river over the thick woods to the hill fort some five or six miles to the west. From the broch they could see when the traders came down from the crannogs on Loch Tatha in their log canoes to trade with the foreign merchant ships that came from hot lands far to the south.

The broch was also where the Cirig stored the parts of their war chariots. The small cart-like vehicles could be assembled rapidly for battle. Each chariot was pulled by two of the small, rugged ponies that belonged to the horse-rich Cirig. The chariots’ lightweight construction meant that they were capable of considerable speed and were very useful against the northern tribes, who did not use chariots as the mountainous terrain of their home made them useless. They were also useful on the long coastal beaches when the blonde sea demons from the ice raided.

The largest of the houses was the meeting place as well as home to Cruibne MaqqCirig, the mormaer , or sub-king, of the Cirig. Ardestie was the capital of the Cirig, one of the seven tribes of the Pecht, descended from the seven sons of Cruithne.

Britha passed the forge set apart from the village, ignoring the fire watcher who gazed longingly towards the village. Britha, like all women, was banned from the forge. It was where the men did their ritual sex magic. As a child in training she had sneaked into the forge, eager to learn the secrets of their magic as well. She had watched them stoke the belly of the furnace, watched the molten metal pour hot from the men’s metal vagina. She had not been impressed. They could keep their magic. Later, when she had learned her own sex magic, she had thought it more fun. Yet, like her, the metalworkers wielded magic and like her had to live outside the tribe to serve it.