11 - RIDERCH

They reached the timber buildings to where some informer had directed them. They were situated just outside the walls, not far from other outside abodes. A man was walking rapidly from one building to another and he didn't stop to talk to them. He looked like one of those Christian monks. That might mean they had come to the right place.

"They told us that we should meet someone here, but whom?", Riderch wondered. Caimir was silent. The Bear had insisted on bringing two more guards, but Riderch had refused: he didn't want to draw too much attention. The truth was, he was ashamed of staying in a foreign place as was Cair Ligualid, feeling that he was now almost an outcast, while in all likelihood he had the right to claim his authority on Alt Clut.

A man came out of the same building where the other person had just entered. The man walked towards them. He looked definitely dressed as a monk too, with a greyish plain raw tunic. He was limping. The closer he got, the more Riderch believed he knew that man. He had seen him before, yes, he was one of the few monks who lived around Alt Clut.

"Guletic Riderch", the monk greeted him in a sad voice, when he got close. He was balding and his shaved face looked emaciated and tired.

"Guletic? So is it true?", Riderch asked him. "My father and my brothers are no more?". He tried to look authoritative, but alas, his own voice sounded deeply sorrowful.

"I fear that it's true, m'lord", said the monk. Then he looked around and asked: "My prince Riderch, shall we sit inside? My legs are really aching. I walked from the Rock of Alt Clut to here".

Once they were inside the timber abode, Riderch noticed again that the space was divided in different rooms by partition walls, like in other buildings in Cair Ligualid. He still hadn't got used to that very peculiar house structure, which didn't exist in Alt Clut.

The monk led them to some stools placed in a corner. There, another monk asked them if they wanted to drink some water.

Riderch refused, having drunk already in Urbgen's residence and not knowing where the water of the monks was coming from. Caimir did the same.

"What is your name?", Riderch asked the limping monk, when the other one left.

"My name is Cuntigern, though the other monks call me Mungo".

"Mungo in the meaning of 'dear one'?".

"I suppose so", he replied.

"Mungo," said Riderch with a hint of impatience, "now that we are sitting tell me what happened".

Unfortunately the young skinny boy who had told them first about the attack on Alt Clut, had died of his injury caused by the false messenger, so he couldn't confirm anymore his version of the facts.

The monk shuddered: "It was in the middle of the night. I heard shouting and when I watched out of the hut where I was staying, I saw smoke and fire. I went out and I saw dead bodies on the ground, then some foreign soldiers seized me".

"Foreign soldiers from where?", interrupted the prince.

"Before leaving Alt Clut I spoke with some people: they told me that the soldiers were Cruthin and Áedán son of Gabrán was leading them".

"What?! My sister's Cruthin husband did that?!", moaned Riderch incredulously. "But that means they must have come by sea... How did it happen that the ships weren't stopped before they arrived at the Rock?!".

"That's not all...", said Mungo in a faint voice. "When the soldiers seized me, they brought me to... to meet a royal of Alt Clut... I think his name was Gwrast map Guipno".

"My father's cousin?", asked Riderch, at a loss.

"He told me", carried on Mungo, "that his brother Neiton is the new guletic of Alt Clut".

Riderch opened his eyes wide in amazement and for a moment there was just silence. That was too much to bear. Finally, he said: "Are you telling me that Neiton's clan is in cahoots with my Cruthin brother-in-law or is it a puppet in the hands of the Cruthin invaders?".

"I fear that both things are true, m'lord", answered the monk.

That hit Riderch like a punch to the stomach. His father had been right! Tutgual's cousins had conspired for real against him, and they had even joined forces with a foreign enemy... But it was even worse than that... If the leader of the enemy warband was for real his sister's husband, coming from Dál Riata to attack Alt Clut, this was clearly a well plotted dynastic overthrowing! And his father, his brothers, and even his own poor sister married to that Cruthin devil... Riderch had to choke back tears.

If that was the situation, a huge responsibility was falling on him, he couldn't just cry.

"All the Christians had to flee Alt Clut, we are banned. I came here, others to other places, like my companion brother Serf who went to Ioua, because he knows the abbot on that island, who had previously invited him to visit...". That stupid monk Mungo now was talking non-stop: "...And it looks like a twist of fate what the abbot on Ioua had written to Serf some time ago, that a son of Áedán of Dál Riata is studying at that same abbey...".

Riderch had to try not to listen to him, he must think what to do. How could be possible that people from related clans, as much as they hated each other, got to the point of joining forces with foreign enemies in order to exterminate their relatives?

He had to avenge his clan, but he needed help, allies. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to assault the Rock, if it was occupied by a Cruthin warband. And this Áedán of Dál Riata...

Suddenly Riderch got hit by a thought: "What did you say just a moment ago?", he asked Mungo, loudly.

The monk, who was still carrying on speaking alone, flinched: "What - what did I just say? That - that these dear brothers of Cair Ligualid have hosted me...".

"No, not that! About who is studying at the abbey!".

"Oh!... A son of Áedán of Dál Riata...".

"Did that monk say if there are Cruthin soldiers there? What else did he say?".

"No, m'lord Riderch, the abbot didn't - he didn't say anything else...".

Riderch thought for a moment, then he looked at Mungo: "Now, tell me everything you know about it, and I think you will leave to that place tomorrow, with some of my guards", he said, pointing at Caimir, who was sitting with a grumpy look.

Mungo's face became deathly pale, as he realised what was Riderch's plan.

10 - CAIMIR

For a few miles out of Cair Ligualid the road was paved with stones, but after a while it became a dirt trail, though larger than two carts in width.

It had been a bad awakening, that morning. Guletic Tutgual Tutclyd was dead: that sudden news had put Caimir in an ill mood. Now they all had to go back to Alt Clut, sooner than planned, to attend the royal funeral. And on top of that, Caimir was feeling slightly uncomfortable about the young messenger who had brought the dreadful news: he didn't remember to have ever seen him among Tutgual's royal harbingers. Maybe he was a new one, but still something looked fishy: usually the royal heralds, during the many years of Tutgual's rule, used to know a lot of additional information, while this one didn't communicate anything besides what was written in the message. Caimir had almost told Prince Riderch his doubts, but then, considering that the royal seal on the scroll was authentic, he dismissed them as nonsense.

Until that moment they had ridden in open fields through rolling hills, but now the trail was nearing the edge of a wood. By instinct, Caimir rode his horse closer to the carriage he was assigned to escort. So close that he could now even hear the princess' and princelings' voices inside the carriage. Prince Riderch was riding ahead, together with the young messenger and encircled by some of Caimir's best guards.

The trail entered into the woods and became much narrower. Traveling through the borderlands was always kind of risky, but Caimir was relieved to leave Rheged and especially Cair Ligualid. Urbgen's court reeked of pomposity. He made the people call him Urbgen Pendragon, 'the Highest Commander'. That title would have fitted some great leader of the past, not surely the vain King Urbgen of Rheged.

Suddenly Caimir heard a whistle from one of his guards who were riding ahead as vanguard. That was the sign that somebody was coming from the opposite direction. Caimir told the party to stop, he ordered some of the guards to stay close to the carriage, and he alone trotted ahead. He passed next to Prince Riderch and he told him: "I am going to check". Riderch only nodded in answer.

When he reached the two guards at the vanguard, Atoc and Catleu, he saw who was coming: it was just a single rider on a gaunt packhorse. He was a young boy, apparently tired and frightened.

"Let us pass, boy, and carry on to your way", Caimir told him.

"Sir, I bring bad news from Alt Clut... An attack...", the young rider replied, with an exhausted voice.

"What did you see? Tell us!", Riderch intervened from behind Caimir: he had caught up with him at the vanguard, together with the messenger and one bodyguard, Guncar.

The boy shuddered: "I lived just inside the ramparts. It was... it was in the middle of the night. All of a sudden...".

But just when the boy was starting to tell his story, an arrow hit him on his shoulder, and he fell from his horse.

Caimir instinctively turned his head and saw the messenger, still holding a small bow, taking off at a gallop towards the poor boy who was now lying on the ground, clearly with the intention of finishing him. But Atoc and Catleu were on his way.

Atoc tried to stop the messenger's horse, but in the clash they both lost balance and fell on the ground. The messenger hit Atoc with a knife and then he tried to jump on the injured boy, but Catleu was quicker: from his saddle he threw a lance which pierced the messenger's neck. The man fell, while dark blood gushed from his neck.

Caimir heard Princess Languoreth's scared voice far behind, from the carriage: "What's happened?".

He was wondering himself, what had just happened.

Riderch dismounted from his horse, and Caimir did the same and walked next to his lord, towards the three men on the ground. Catleu dismounted too: "I - I just tried...", he stammered. Riderch just answered: "You did well to hit that bastard". His voice had a cold angry tone.

The messenger lay still on the ground. He seemed to be dead already.

Atoc was crouched down, holding his stomach in pain. "Attend to him", Riderch told Catleu.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, pale in the face and trying to pull out the arrow from his shoulder. Caimir asked Riderch: "Should I?". The prince nodded, and Caimir knelt down in front of the boy. "Grit your teeth", he told him. Guncar came close and held the boy still. Caimir started to pull out the arrow, slowly at first, and then gradually increasing his force. The boy screamed in pain. A small gush of blood came out of the wound. The boy stopped crying but he looked pale and extremely weak.

Riderch then talked to Catleu: "How's his condition?", he said referring to Atoc. "M'lord Riderch", replied Catleu, "the wound looks very badly and deep. He needs help from a druid or a healer, I think he don't have much time".

"Damn it!", swore Riderch. "What came over that man? Was he even a real messenger, or was he an impostor?". Then he spoke to the young boy: "Now tell us what you were going to say!".

The kid was still sitting on the ground, his face was so pale that he looked like on the verge of fainting, but now he was fixing his eyes wide open on Riderch: "You - you are Prince Riderch? A - a warband attacked the Rock... They burned all around... My father tried to save our house and they killed him! I grabbed a horse from the stables and escaped to call for help... My mother and my sisters fled Alt Clut on foot, I don't know... ".

"Liar! A warband? What warband?!", shouted Riderch.

Now the boy looked frightened: "I - I don't know. They were shouting but - but in a different language".

"Bear, we must reach Alt Clut as soon as possible and see what has happened for real", Riderch told Caimir.

"Lord Riderch", answered the Bear (as Riderch used to call him), "we don't know what will expect us at the Rock. I am really worried about my own family. But if there's an enemy army there, we are only a dozen men and we don't have the force to face an army. We should go back to Cair Ligualid and ask for reinforcements". Caimir hated to think of going back to that town, but he didn't see any other options. Besides, Atoc needed urgent cures to his wound, and Caimir didn't like the idea of ​​losing one of his guards in that way.

Riderch, looking anxious, pondered on the situation, then, sounding upset, he said: "You are right. Better we quickly go back to Cair Ligualid".

The travel back was a pain. They rode faster, almost at a trot, trying to reach Cair Ligualid in time for saving Atoc's life. The guard had been laid down on a stretcher tied to the carriage. The young boy's condition was getting worse too: he had been tied to the gaunt packhorse to prevent him from falling, since he looked weaker and weaker, and he didn't want to eat the food which had been offered to him.

They had abandoned the body of the dead messenger in the bushes. How to explain his behaviour? He had clearly tried to kill the young boy when he was about to tell his terrible story. Riderch was now convinced that the messenger must have been an impostor, but how had he managed to impress the royal seal on the scroll? That didn't look good. The royal seal was kept among the personal belongings of Guletic Tutgual. If the boy was telling the truth (and why would he lie?) and the Rock of Alt Clut had actually been attacked, then clearly someone was using Tutgual's royal seal in order to forge completely false news, and most likely that someone was not Morcant neither someone from Tutgual's family. Tutgual might be really dead, but not for a sickness: an attack on Alt Clut, Tutgual dead and some enemy in power at the Rock at that same moment. That was really frightening, and Caimir started fearing for his own family's safety.

He was again riding next to the carriage. Riderch, ahead, was no doubt trying to question the poor boy some more. But Caimir was quite sure that the young rider couldn't know much more than what he had already told.

Anyways, if Guletic Tutgual had really died a violent death, Prince Morcant might have died too, and if that was the case, they would be in danger themselves.

Tutgual had always been magnanimous towards Caimir, even though he knew that the Bear came from a family of peasants. The king had always treated him with respect, with the respect due to someone who manages to achieve what he wants. Caimir had always wanted to become a soldier, since when he was a little boy and he used to help his family with the harvest. So he had left his parents still very young and he had ventured to do several jobs, from laborer to watchdog. His big body size, even at young age, helped him to be chosen for tasks such as those. During that time, he often used to approach horsemen coming out of the Rock: he used to offer them his help and service, but none of them ever stopped to talk to him. Why would have they? At that time Caimir was only a young peasant. After so many attempts, finally a very young and drunk horseman accepted to go drink some mead with Caimir. His name was Riacat. What a useless bloke was Riacat, at that time. He was young and with no acquaintances, he didn't even live around the Rock, but in Cathures. His only merit was being a distant relative to the king. But Caimir didn't mind that: he showed Riacat that he was interested in becoming his man-at-arms and in helping him with any errands. He became good, and then very good. Until the day when Riacat was called in the king's retinue during Tutgual's trip to Din Eitin. Someone within the king's entourage during that trip must have noticed Caimir's readiness in assisting Riacat, because after that day he was called to assist other horsemen living at the Rock. In few years Caimir improved his fighting skills and became one of the most trusted guards in Alt Clut. They started calling him 'the Bear', because of his size and his introvert attitude. Then came the great sickness, that killed many people in Alt Clut, included even Queen Elufed. Several guards died too, the Royal Guard was decimated and, when the sickness passed, new recruits were sorely needed. He remembered, he was in his twenties when Guletic Tutgual called him to become Prince Riderch's new personal guard, making him part of the prestigious Royal Guards.

Now, if Tutgual had really been killed by an enemy army, their own lives were at risk. But what enemy could have broken the formidable Rock's defenses? That had never happened before, as far as Caimir remembered. He was wondering who was sitting on the throne of Alt Clut at that very moment.

"Caimir". Princess Languoreth's voice distracted him from his thoughts. She was sticking her head out of the carriage and clearly she wanted to talk to him. Even if they were trotting quite speedily, Caimir tried to ride closer to the carriage: "Yes, princess", he said.

"What do you think of the boy's story?" she asked him. Of course Riderch had briefly told her what had happened.

"I don't know, princess, I am just a royal guard, I don't presume to elaborate what others say", Caimir lied.

Languoreth seemed disappointed, as she said: "In any case, you and your guards now must be more careful than ever. If Tutgual and Morcant had woefully died, that would mean that Riderch would be entitled to be the new Guletic of Alt Clut". And after saying that, she disappeared back inside the carriage.

The Bear had not thought about that. He was still picturing that scenario in his mind when they were already trotting on the paved road. Soon they were within sight of the ancient stone wall. They passed through it and through other stone ruins, then they crossed the bridge on the river, and after that, Cair Ligualid was again in sight. They passed a few wayfarers and soon they were close to the town's walls. From the outpost on the ramparts they must have seen them coming a long way off, because King Urbgen in person was standing at the entrance gate, waiting for them, his face betraying all his surprise for seeing them back again.

After a while, Riderch was sitting in Urbgen's abode, in front of a table. Next to the same table, Urbgen was pouring some ale, then he sat on a stool himself and he passed a cup to Riderch. "I have a cup for your guard too", Urbgen told him.

"Thanks to you, Guletic Urbgen Pendragon, but I don't need to drink now", said Caimir, who was standing a few feet away from the table, the same as Urbgen's personal guard. The latter was a muscular bloke, fully armed and stock still.

"Well, then", grunted Urbgen, "let's talk, Riderch".

Prince Riderch told Urbgen once more what had happened in the woods, while the Pendragon had a pensive look and was scratching his beard.

"Well", said Urbgen when Riderch had finished talking, "that boy might not be able to confirm his story ever again: our healer has told me that when you arrived here he was unconscious and he looked more dead than alive".

"The thing is", replied Riderch, "he didn't have a clue who was the enemy and what really has happened. Maybe there was an attack, but the besiegers could have been defeated. That scenario actually looks now the most realistic in my opinion". Riderch seemed to regret coming back to Cair Ligualid instead of moving at full march towards Alt Clut.

"You forget the matter of that messenger", Urbgen pointed out. "He tried to kill the poor boy for no apparent reason, and he was carrying a message about your father's death of sickness. Let's say that King Tutgual did die of sickness and the attack happened just after that. Then why this messenger wanted to kill the youngster when he was about to tell you what had happened in Alt Clut?".

Riderch exhaled a strained sigh: "The only way to find out what happened is to march to Alt Clut in force".

Urbgen leant back on his stool, making it creak under his weight.

Here they were, eventually, at the core of the matter: would King Urbgen Pendragon of Rheged lend part of his forces to Prince Riderch of Alt Clut to help him just in the name of friendship and alliance? 

"I think", said the Pendragon pensively, "that if this attack took place, soon other fugitives will reach the territories of Rheged. I feel it's wise to wait until that will happen, which will indubitably happen if the story of the boy is somewhat true. I don't see any good in sending a platoon to Alt Clut on the basis of the little information we have ".

Riderch looked definitely not happy with that answer, and he stayed there holding the cup and sulking.

Urbgen leant towards him, and his stool creaked even more. "Riderch", he said softly, "think about this: if really something tragic happened to your father and to your older brother, it would mean that you could be the legitimate new guletic of Alt Clut. It's time you start thinking and acting with that in mind, with the necessary caution and tactics".

Caimir read amazement and awareness in Riderch's eyes, as he said: "You are right. And that would mean also that I am at war for the power over Alt Clut".

9 - LANGUORETH

Riderch and the children were still asleep. Lying on the bed, Languoreth was savouring the quietness, while the first light of dawn was already creeping in. She heard birds chirping, and then, faint in the distance, some horse trotting.

Cair Ligualid was a proper town, something totally different than Alt Clut. The old Roman walls - although they were a bit run down - and the squared stone houses, made it look like the imaginary cities from the stories that Languoreth's grandmother used to tell her when she was a child.

In the courtyard of King Urbgen's residence there was a remarkable fountain, fed by a pipe which carried water from a river far from there. They told them it was a system built very long time ago by the old Romans and still perfectly functioning.

Even the inhabitants of Cair Ligualid looked more sophisticated than the tough and rough people of Alt Clut.

The rooms provided for the staying of Riderch and his family were furnished in good taste, with tapestries on the walls and fine silverware. Languoreth found that King Urbgen's court was very elegant. Urbgen's spouse, Queen Modron, used to wear refined red clothes and had fine manners. They also employed a bard, which the guletics of the Rock had never considered to do, as far as she remembered.

Riderch stirred next to her and he turned to hug her: "Is it dawn already?", he said with a sleepy voice.

"Yes, it is", she answered.

He yawned. "Soon it will be time to go back home".

"Couldn't we stay just a few days more?", she asked him imploringly, massaging his privates inside his  underclothes. Thankfully, the children were sleeping in the next room.

Riderch grunted: "I am starting to consider that". He kissed her all over the face, then he bit her earlobes and started to titillate her nipples.

A wave of arousal reached her, and she let go of her body and mind. Riderch forced her legs open and, already hard, entered into her.

A feeling of ecstasy was overwhelming Languoreth, now.

She was deep in a dimension of pleasure, when Riderch abruptly pulled away. Only then, dismayed and longing, she came back to reality, and she understood that someone had knocked at the door.

"Who is it?", Riderch asked hoarsely.

"Urbgen", a deep voice answered from the other side of the door.

Languoreth and Riderch exchanged looks. It had to be a serious matter, for Urbgen to wake up so early and come to call them. What could it be?

Languoreth covered her naked body with the bed sheet, Riderch put back on his underclothes, then he said: "Come in, Urbgen".

The door opened and the massive man who ruled Rheged entered the room, followed by two bodyguards. He was still wearing a nightgown and he didn't look pleased. His shaggy hair was still unkept loose on his shoulders.

He was holding a parchment in his right hand. "Forgive me, I hate when I get woken up before sunrise, and I am not pleased to come here and disturb your sleep. But there is this matter", Urbgen said waving the parchment in mid air. "The messenger who has brought this scroll told me that he had to deliver it personally to Prince Riderch, as a matter of absolute urgency that could not wait, not even until after sunrise. But then, when I questioned him, it became clear to me that he doesn't have the faintest idea if you're supposed to be here or not. That's so strange that I took the decision to bring the scroll to you myself. I told him that in my kingdom he doesn't have any right to insist on his duties, at least until I will be sure that he's not an impostor. And here you have your scroll". And while saying so, Urbgen lent the parchment to Riderch.

In the moment her husband took the scroll, Languoreth could see that the royal seal of Alt Clut was impressed on it, so it had to be authentic, whatever Urbgen had said. It was typical of him, abusing his authority, it looked like. But at least the scroll was still sealed, it had not been opened.

Something was wrong, Languoreth could feel it. Tutgual was the only one, supposedly, who knew that Riderch might be in Cair Ligualid, and for what reason would he send his son a message sealed with the royal seal, if it wasn't for a very serious matter?

Riderch unsealed and opened the parchment, then he started reading silently. Soon Languoreth could see from the expression on his face that it was bad news.

Finally he lifted his eyes from the scroll and, with a blank stare, he said: "King Tutgual is dead". An ominous silence fell over the room. "Oh, my dear", Languoreth said. She wished she could hug him, but three stranger men were in the room and she was completely naked under the bed sheets.

"How did that happen?", Urbgen asked him in a concerned tone.

"Here it only says that his sickness suddenly worsened to the point that he could not breathe anymore", Riderch answered, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. Then he stared at Languoreth: "The message was sent by my brother Morcant. He summons me to the Rock for my father's funeral, and to pay homage to himself as the new Guletic of Alt Clut".

8 - ÁEDÁN

Áedán was being tortured by a pounding head pain, but he must not show any sign of weakness. He was seated on a chair in the royal hall of Alt Clut, surrounded by Britons who, in spite of having conspired to overthrow their own king, were now looking at Áedán with eyes full of hatred, seeing him as the leader of an enemy warband that had torched their citadel. Clearly something had gone wrong.

"The terms were clear, no damage to the population and to the city; and you burnt it!", was shouting in that moment one of the conspirators, among a roar of approvals by the others.

How pathetic that was, all these petty chiefs pretending to act boldly, after they had to plead with the enemy to intervene in order to kill their own leaders. If it were up to Áedán, he would gladly execute them all. But King Conall had entrusted him with the task of carrying out the plan in accord with the terms.

The negotiations were going on all the morning. The Britons had nominated as their new supreme leader Neiton map Guipno, a cousin of the late King Tutgual. Even though they were cousins, their age couldn't have been more different, considering that Neiton was in his twenties while Tutgual had been already an old man. Neiton and his supporters claimed that his father had been king before Tutgual. Áedán was pretty sure that Guipno map Dumnagual had not been a king of Alt Clut, maybe a temporary ruler for a short period. But in any case he didn't care. Those were the Britons' own feuds, not his business.

In that moment a conspirator stepped forward, interrupting the other one who was talking: "Áedán!", he shouted. Áedán was struck by that man's insolence. Until that moment he had been called 'General' or 'Commander Áedán' by the other Britons gathered in the hall.

"Áedán, I am Cynan map Deigr", said the impudent, "and I accuse your warband of having deliberately tried to destroy the Rock of Alt Clut! Before we proceed with any negotiation, we must know who lit the fire and how!". Where Áedán had heard that name before? Oh yes, Deigr had been another of his mother's brothers, as they had been Guipno and Clinoch, Tutgual's father. So even this Cynan son of Deigr was one of his Briton cousins. If Áedán recalled correctly, Deigr had died not long time earlier during a military campaign.

"The hubris of you Cruthin will harm all the future relations between our kingdoms! We aren't bound to respect the terms if the people responsible for the fire will not be handed over!", continued Cynan amongst loud noises from the rest of the Britons. A part from the sophisticated words he had used, it was at least clear that Cynan considered Áedán a pure Dalriatan, since Cruthin was the word the Britons used to name the Dalriatans. Áedán knew that its meaning was pejorative, but that didn't matter. It mattered that these plotters didn't see him as their cousin at least!

While Cynan was carrying on with his accusations, Áedán recalled the dramatic moments of the previous night.

The sky had been partially cloudy but clear enough for them to distinguish the profile of the coast in the moonlight, most of the time at least. The Briton scarred spy had been with them on the ships, at his own risk, and he had guided them pointing at where to navigate and where to dock.

Most of the guards on the ramparts were in cahoots with the conspirators. When Áedán's ships arrived, hidden by the night, the guards either didn't notice them or they didn't call the alarm on purpose. Some of them opened the lowest gate for the invaders, as the scarred spy had promised. Everything had seemed so easy. The Dalriatan soldiers, helped by the moonlight and by the compliance of the guards on the lowest ramparts, had climbed the steep steps up the hill, silently and without torches. Only when they had arrived at the saddle they had met a fierce resistance by other Briton guards and ultimately by Tutgual's Royal Guard. At that point had started a hard battle, lit only by the moonlight and by the faint light of some torches, under a hail of arrows and spears shot from the highest ramparts. Several soldiers and a few officers had fallen before they could force the upper gate which led to the summit of Alt Clut. Áedán himself had been hit by a spear, though the weapon had just glancingly scratched his helmet, leaving him in a daze for a while, but unhurt. The fight had involved only the soldiers and the male members of the royal family, while the houses on the saddle of the hill had remained undamaged and the population unscathed... Until the fire. Nothing caught fire on the hilltop, where Áedán and his soldiers faced a terrible battle against the Royal Guard and the royal family itself. Eventually, at the end of the battle, many dead bodies were scattered all over the place, at the top gate, on the ground, even inside the royal houses within the ramparts at the summit of the Rock. By the end, Áedán's sword was dripping with blood. Tutgual's family had been almost exterminated: two of his sons and his right-hand brother had died in the battle, while a third son and his family were missing. Some Britons had complained that the dead body of Prince Morcant, Tutgual's firstborn, was disfigured beyond recognition, but nothing they could do to make it recognisable.

Tutgual himself had died sword in hand, surrounded by his guards and his brother, who had died with him. As for Tutgual's daughters-in-law and their children, they had been taken by the soldiers and given to the conspirators.

Even if that was an action of war commanded by his king, Áedán couldn't help but grieve in his heart for his own wife, whose family had been destroyed. Before Áedán left Dún At, she had actually pleaded for him to be merciful with her own father and brothers. Áedán had promised to do his best to avoid blood. But that didn't end well.

"Cynan, soften your tone!", exclaimed in that moment Rónán, the highest commander of Áedán's army, who was standing just next to him. Áedán was brought back to the present by his shout.

Rónán was maybe the only officer in Áedán's retinue who could understand and speak the language of the Britons. Áedán had instructed him to leave the conspirators make their complaints until they had finished, but Cynan's tone had eventually gotten on Rónán's nerves. Better like that, Áedán's headache was pounding and he was looking forward to ending the meeting soon.

"If you listen to me, instead of finding excuses in order to weasel out of the agreement", continued Rónán speaking to Cynan, "I will explain what happened, even though I suspect that you all know it already".

The Britons disliked those words and murmured loudly. But Neiton in person raised his hand to stop the noise, and gestured to Rónán to carry on. The murmuring quieted down, though not immediately.

Rónán looked at Áedán, who nodded in agreement: better if it was the general to speak, since Áedán's headache was torturing him.

"We entered Alt Clut without a fight", resumed Rónán, "and everything was going as planned, until some of your guards on the highest ramparts started to shoot a hail of flaming arrows! It was a shower of fire at some point, and of course eventually some of the arrows ended up setting some of the huts on fire! The population panicked and the fire spread out of control, and nothing of that was our fault! Maybe you don't know all this because you were far away from the Rock when it happened!".

Cynan, red in the face, was about to reply, but Neiton stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, and stepped forward. "The Dalriatan general is not lying", said the leader of the conspirators, in a loud voice: "I was there last night and it's true, Tutgual's guards shot flaming arrows from the top of the Rock downwards, and some of them ended up burning some houses. How the fire spread so quickly all around, I don't know. But the primary responsible of shooting flaming arrows is Tutgual's Royal Guard, most of which, by the way, has been exterminated in the attack". Neiton had a good eloquence and diplomacy: Áedán noticed that he had used the word 'Dalriatan' instead of the pejorative 'Cruthin'. And he had not finished: "I would like, though, to answer to the Dalriatan general. Many of us were at the Rock too, last night, and we took part in the battle. So, don't you Cruthin try to claim that you did the job alone!". The Britons welcomed those words with a cheering roar. Áedán was greatly disappointed.

Then Neiton raised his right hand again, and when the noise stopped he looked all around in the hall: "There is one more issue that hasn't been discussed. Riderch and his family have not been found in Alt Clut. May I remind you all that in this moment he is a threat, since he could lay claim to succeeding Tutgual to power, as his only surviving son".

"Long are gone the times when a woman could lay claim to power more successfully than a man", laughed an old bearded Briton.

Neiton was not amused: "Morcant's widow and her children pose as much a threat as Riderch, but we hold them captive and we will decide how to deal with them in due time". Then he looked Áedán in the face and he said: "We must find Riderch, and I remind you that one of the terms of our agreement was that all the close relatives of Tutgual must be arrested. So if Riderch is not found and arrested, our agreement is jeopardized. I will send envoys to all the corners of Alt Clut and even outside the kingdom, to summon him here. But I hope you Dalriatans will also do what is in your power to find him".

A stabbing pain hit Áedán on the forehead. This isn't a headache, he suddenly realised. The stab was exactly on the spot where he had been hit by that spear, during the night. He had not felt any pain during the hours which followed the attack, maybe because of the thrill from the battle, who knows.

Áedán touched Rónán, who ducked to him, and he told him with a soft voice: "We must go now".

Rónán nodded, then he spoke to the Britons: "We have discussed about all the issues. Now Commander Áedán will think how to proceed and then we will meet again when decisions are taken".

A low murmuring spread across the hall, but once again Neiton raised his hand: "Commander Áedán mac Gabráin, I trust that all the terms of the agreement will be fulfilled, and I will wait for your summons". Áedán nodded to those words, and after that the gathering was over.

The Dalriatan leader, not feeling well, stood up and walked towards the exit, escorted by his personal guards and by Rónán and his soldiers. Suddenly he felt lightheaded. Maybe he had stood up too quickly.

While his forehead was pounding, he thought: I must not pass out... I must... Then he saw the floor drawing vertiginously close, and everything went dark.