Jack Whyte - The Saxon Shore

He looked at me long and hard before responding, then nodded and took up an earlier point. "We have no strategy for occupying all of this Caledonia. But when we gain a foothold there, my grandson will profit by it. I want you to take him home with you to Britain as soon as you are well enough to travel."

I blinked at him, astonished, as he continued. "Winter has not yet come, and Brander not yet arrived, so there is still time, and opportunity, for you to make a safe passage home, rather than sit here until spring and find yourself trapped. I said that I had no idea what might have delayed Brian, but sitting here listening to you talk of invasions and Saxons, I have become convinced there is a possibility that he is on his way directly from the north.

I told you his father Condran's lands are enormous. So are the numbers that he rules. It came to me, listening to you, that there are many lesser tribes in the coastal territories between his land and ours. Condran, and Brian, control no harbours at this time, south of their own strongholds. If they have decided to move against us, sending their allies down from the northwest, southward through the interior, it would provide a perfect opportunity for Brian to conquer all those lesser tribes between him and us while free of any threat from his own western allies. That would delay him, but it would also strengthen him greatly, providing harbours for his brother Liam all the way down to our river entrance.

"If I'm right, and that is what he's about, then we are plunged into war for a long time to come. We are in any case, with the MacNyalls and Garn about our ears, but this of the coastal harbours could make all the difference between victory and defeat. By now, Brander will be far south of Condran's coast, and he should arrive within the week. His escort will have turned back towards Caledonia, having seen him safely past all threat of interference. I need those galleys here, however, not in the northern isles, so I have ordered six of my swiftest galleys here to bring them home, where there is work for them. If those six ships leave now, within the next few days, before Brander arrives, Brian will not know they have gone, and we'll retain a chance of setting him on his rump in the months to come with a surprise attack of our own." He paused, assessing my reaction. "Six galleys will go out; three pairs in tandem, in the hope that one pair, at least, might escape attack by Liam's remaining vessels—for you may be sure Liam will be following Brander, in support of his brother, as soon as his way is cleared by the removal of the remainder of our fleet. One pair of my messengers will escort you, with the child and your men and horses. They will leave you safe on your own coast, then make their way northward. You have something to say. What is it?"

My frustration almost made me stammer. "We can't. . . It's not. . . How can we go? We lost the craft we used to bring our horses over. We would have to build another to replace it."

He dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "Already foreseen and resolved. We have such a craft, or Liam does: a small galley, a toy ship he has been building for his daughter Shelagh. Not a fighting ship; more of a pleasure vessel, if you can believe such a thing. It is broad in its middle, much more so than our war galleys, and draws little water, gaining balance from its extra breadth and from a weighted keel. For your purposes, however, it will suit perfectly, since it is unfinished; undecked, I mean. It will accommodate your horses and your people. Donuil has told me how you shipped the last time. This craft will be easier to tow, and more seaworthy. Our builders are fitting temporary decking now, and that should take no more than a day. You could sail as early as tomorrow or the following day."

"And what does Liam have to say about that? It is his galley, after all; his gift for his own daughter."

Athol sat straighter, squaring his shoulders.

"That is what I wanted to discuss with you, the night of our Council gathering, when you fell sick. Because of the lack of time, I have proceeded in the hope that you will take no ill of my suggestions and the arrangements I have made without your knowledge." He smiled briefly, a swift, wintry lightening of his sombre face. "Much has occurred while you lay ill."

"Hmm. I had noticed some of it," I murmured, thinking of Donuil and his evident, newfound love. "Tell me."

"Liam will go with you to Britain. No, let me finish!" I swallowed the retort that sprang to my mouth. "So, too, will Donuil and Shelagh. Those two will be wed. Liam and I had decided on that long since, when Donuil first went away, but now the pair of them have arrived at that decision on their own."

"I guessed at that," I told him. "But this of Liam going to Britain sounds foolish. Why, and to what end? What would he do in Britain?"

"He would live, safe under your protection, as will my grandson. I have no confidence that I could say the same were he to stay behind, here in my lands, with enemies the like of which we face swarming all over. Liam Twist- back is no warrior, but beyond doubt he is the most valuable of all my counselors, his wealth aside. He has abilities and skills no other of my people can provide: the breeding—the selective, skillful breeding—of livestock; the organizing of regular, useful traffic between our outposts in the northern isles . . . We think, the mass of us, in terms of warfare and of conquest as a means to ensure our safety to raise our families and live our lives as simply as we can. Liam thinks in terms of trade and the means of improving life. I can't afford to lose those strengths of his, not when we are on the very brink of needing them more than ever before, in our new home."

"I understand that, Athol, but why send him to Britain? Why not directly to your new holdings in the north?"

He inhaled, then smiled again, without mirth. "Because they are so new. Some of our people are already living there, as you know; some, but nowhere near enough. And their life is harsh, far harsher than here, where at least we know the land and its problems. There in the northeast, everything is different. The islands are mountainous, bare on the high slopes, the valley choked with forests. The earth is fertile, though, in places, but such places have to be first cleared, then broken to the plough by hand, and shelter from the weather has to be built by hand, of stone and sod. Such work does not yet come easily to our men."

"What about creatures? Game, and the like?"

"Deer, on most islands, wolves, bears; goats and some mountain sheep on the heights. Very few cattle, and those only on the largest of the isles. And you have placed your finger on the need for Liam's skills. Donuil steered my thinking, when he told me of your troubles with your horses, the difficulty of sending them by sea. We face the same problems. We have shipped very few beasts with our people. Now, with this war threatening us, our cattle here are at grave risk and we'll lose most of them no matter what the outcome. That is why I have decided to do what I must, if you will grant your aid. Liam's breeding stock, his prime animals, goats, sheep and cattle, are too valuable to risk losing. If we are to save them, we must ship them out, soon. To do that, we'll have to build vessels to carry them, and now that can be done, using Liam's small galley as a model. But no matter how quickly we build, the winter storms will be upon us before they can set out, and the journey to the northeast through winter seas would be impossible. Far safer, I thought, though still hazardous, to ship the beasts across the narrower sea to your lands—to some part of your holdings close by the sea, where no one lives, and where Liam Twistback can perform his wonders breeding new stock. His closeness to the sea will mean my galleys can remain in touch with him and you. Then, when the weather changes, not next year but the following one, my galleys can remove the young stock in safety, shipping them north to where our people are. Do you follow me?"