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  "Aye, it looks like we're sealed in. There seems to be a bit of a gap at the top, though, that's strange. It's almost as though the top of the pile has been removed," replied Macdonald.

  Macleod leant in for a closer look.

  "You're right, there's been stones dragged out of here, I can see tracks in the dust. Oh, look here, there's blood on these rocks."

  "Blood? What would cause that?" asked Macdonald.

  Macleod pointed back to the polar bear. Macdonald lifted one of the animal's massive, lethal paws, trying to look at the claws, but they were worn-down, bloody stumps. The paws were no longer white, but dark red and black, torn to shreds by the effort.

  "It was trying to dig us out," said Macdonald, placing the paw back on the ground with a new-found respect for the animal.

  "Us? Really, Ewan, it was trying to save itself," replied Macleod.

  Macdonald shook his head.

  "I dinnae think so, Seamus. There was something I noticed about it when Erik was killed. The beastie clearly didn't understand us, but it wasn't going to let us out. Every time we drew closer it stopped us. I think it wanted us to finish what we came here for, to come to some agreement like Erik was after. Maybe it was just following his orders or maybe it was acting on its own, but I don't think it meant us any harm. It could have killed us at any time. Even when we stabbed the damn thing, it only knocked us out of the way. If it wanted us dead, it could have killed us then. No, Erik saw this as an important meeting and I think he made sure the beastie knew it was too. It was trying to save us, I'm certain of it."

  They stood on either side of the huge white, blood-soaked cadaver, looking down on it, paying it the respect they would give a fallen comrade after a battle.

  "It's a magnificent big beast, is it not?" said Macleod.

  "Aye, that it is, Seamus. We could have had animals like this working for our clans too, if we hadn't become so greedy."

  Macleod nodded, but said nothing. He was thinking of the possibilities. The things that Erik had described to them would have changed their lives and those of everyone in their clans for years to come. The stranger had told them that, in time, they would share more wonders than the handful he had described to them, but they had to prove themselves worthy of such progress. Macleod had been so caught up in the moment, the possibilities that such things offered, that his first reaction had been selfish. Erik had been right. He had wanted an advantage over the Clan Eremon, Macdonald and his people, so his natural instinct had been to focus on that and not the facts that would actually benefit both clans.

  "Ewan, I would like to make sure the efforts of these… friends of ours do not go unnoticed. I propose a truce between our peoples. We may never benefit from the incredible things that Erik told us about, but we can at least accept that he has taught us something. There is something noble about this stranger and his tamed bear and what he was trying to do for us. We should never forget that."

  Macdonald nodded and held out his hand. Macleod grasped the offered hand and smiled back.

  "To a new future," he said.

  Macdonald returned the smile, saying "Aye, we'd best get digging, then."

  Between them they managed to pull the body of the bear to the back of the cave so that they could continue the task it had begun. They had spent nearly an hour shifting the rocks away from the pile, using their daggers to dig into the layers of dust and grit, when the last torch guttered out, leaving them in a deep, near-physical darkness. Though the task was made more difficult, they continued with a renewed vigour, believing that the torch had been extinguished by a draught of air. Had they come to their agreement with Erik, they might have learnt from him enough about the way the world works to know that oxygen is required to keep a torch burning. They would probably also have discovered that the same gas is required for people to breathe. In the absence of such knowledge, however, they kept shifting rocks until the air ran out and they passed out from lack of oxygen.

  Erik's people believed he had been killed by the clans and never tried to bring them together again, remaining largely hidden for thousands of years, referred to only in whispers and legend.

  Ewan and Seamus' clans assumed the worst and the hatred between the Clan Eremon and the Clan Ebhir escalated over time. Indeed it is still present to this day, with influences stretching across the world as the two clans continue their battles through covert activities, governmental agencies and multinational boardroom politics. Both sides still seek out every advantage in the war and still believe that finding the elusive descendants of that first 'stranger' will unlock riches and power beyond compare.

  https://www.podiobooks.com/title/some-other-scotland

  Foretelling

  Arlene Radasky

  56 AD

  Caledonia

  Breathless, Wynda carefully looked back over her shoulder at the steep path she was climbing. "I did not realize it would be this difficult, but I also did not realize this babe would choose this day to be born." She had started her hike before dawn and the sun was now halfway through its journey. She was almost at the end of hers.

  "At least my owl greeted me before I left the fort and I told Gavina, where I was going. If I do not come home in two days they will look for me."

  Wynda was glad Gavina was a part of her family now. When her brother, Beathan, the clan chieftain, had declared he was marrying Gavina, Wynda doubted she would ever be able to welcome her, a member of a clan they had been fighting for so many seasons. But Wynda admitted to herself that she was wrong, Gavina had not only helped to create peace between her clan and theirs and she had helped keep Beathan in line. Wynda knew Gavina would make sure Beathan and his warriors would leave the horse races they spent so much time at lately, and search for her if she did not get home.

  Before she stopped climbing to let the pain pass, she had seen the small stand of trees where the Druid slept during warm weather. Her shoulders relaxed when the treetops came into view.

  "He had better be there. I do not want to have made this trip for nothing." Her chin followed her eyes up as she glared at the sky, "Mother Morigna, why on this day of all days you tell me I must make this journey, I will never know." Turning back to the barely visible, loose shale covered trail, she continued talking to herself, "Ogilhinn, you must be there, you must. I can go no further if you are not." She knew in her heart, but did not want to admit it aloud that the vision from last night was the reason she was here now.

  It had been a moonless morning and more than half the mountain was covered in fog when she started her climb. Now in the high sun, she was warm. She slipped out of her cape and laid it next to the path. "We can pick it up as we go down later."

  One more of the uncountable waves of pain swept over her, she leaned forward and began to slide backwards, her leather sandals, losing their tremulous grip on the loose shale chips. She wrapped one arm, protectively around her swollen belly and tried to catch herself with her free hand, trying not to think of the warm, safe bed she had left at cock's crow.

  The pain subsided, but her backwards slide did not. She fell forward on her knees, her dress providing slight protection for her skin. She leaned to one side, and slid until she was able to position her feet and use a boulder as a stop to break the fall.

  "Mother Morrigna, are you sure you want me here? I started this because you told me to. I can go home, if you do not get some help to me now. You make this decision. If I have my babe here on this hill alone, I swear by all that is sacred to me that I will never listen to one of your visions again. I hate them. You have yet to tell me why I have them. They just get me into trouble usually, like now."

  Wynda groaned as another wave of pain flushed over her. "This one is different. My sons were not this difficult to carry. But they did not live long, not even a day. This child seems to be a fighter. Well, fight child. I will fight with you to keep you alive."

  She turned her body to look up the trail and gauge how far she had slid backwards. She noticed
a tall man hand holding a long oak staff, white hair hanging straight below his shoulders, standing at the top of the trail.

  "Do not move Wynda, I am on my way down to help you."

  "Alright, I will wait." She was not unhappy to be able to sit there a bit longer. She stretched out on her back and twisted her head to watch the downward steps of the druid, Ogilhinn. Even with his staff, he slid more than walked down the trail to her.

  He finally was at her side and positioned in front of the boulder that she also rested against. Reaching down he grasped her outstretched arm and under her shoulder to lever her up to stand.

  "Thank you. I thought I was going to have to give birth here."

  "Come, take my staff, go in front of me and I will keep my hand on your back to steady you." Ogilhinn stayed one step behind, trying not to slip back himself as he stopped Wynda several times from returning to the boulder where they started this journey together. As he passed it, he reached down and threw the cape she had taken off, over his shoulder.

  At the top, they both stood still for a moment, the view over the valley below was clear, the fog gone. She looked down at the fort, and pastures dotted with sheep and cattle. In this season the fields were filled with men harvesting the abundant crops that grew this year, thank the gods.

  "You do not seem surprised to see me, druid."

  "I had a dream last night that you would be coming. I actually expected you earlier."

  Wynda winced, another pain coming. "I expected to be here earlier, but this babe is as insistent as I and started wanting to be born an hour into this walk. It slowed me down quite a bit."

  Ogilhinn nodded. "Let us go into the shade of the oaks. Annag is there. I asked her to come with me this time. Morrigna told me your time was close, two nights ago she told me to keep Annag near. Then last night, the dream, telling me you were on your way."

  Wynda turned and started towards the gathering of oak trees. A woman, the same age as her, stepped out of the shadows and held her arms open, inviting Wynda to come and receive her help for the babe's birth.

  "We have been anxious," Annag said. "I do not understand why Morrigna asked you to climb the arduous path on this side of the mountain, the animal trail on the other side would have gotten you up here, as well, and without the danger," She offered Wynda a cup of water.

  "Thank you, Annag. It is so good to see you. I thought Ogilhinn was going to be the only one here to help me. I know he has attended many births, but having another woman to talk to will be nice." Wynda held her cup out for more water and when Annag refilled it she dipped the corner of her skirt into it and wiped her face. "The shade is good. The oaks smell wonderful." Then she bent over in pain. "Oh Mother Morrigna, I pray it is almost time."

  Ogilhinn replied, "It is, Wynda, soon." He waited for a now panting Wynda to look up. "I think you had to make this walk because Morrigna is testing you to see if you are ready to raise a child who will be a challenge. I have been given glimpses and know you are going to be in need of all of your patience for this babe as it grows."

  * * *

  Prys was home. He had been gone for six full moons this time. Walking, leading two pack ponies laden with trade goods, he stopped at the gate of the fort and greeted Craig, the guard of the day, and was welcomed back inside.

  "Ah, the smithy, Gleann is waiting for you, Prys. He told me to send the boy as soon as I saw you. I did and I am sure he is ready to see inside the packs you have."

  "And I have something that will bring a smile to his face. For the two, decorated bowls and one mug that he sent with me, I was able to get three full measures of bronze and a small surprise for him to use to make a trinket for Beathan's home." Prys knew the small nugget of gold was worth more than all the bronze and bowls he could carry in a year, but the man who had it last, had no use for it now.

  The Romans had missed the small piece of gold in the man's mouth. Prys found it when the dead man's mouth fell open as Prys was laying him in the grave he had dug for him and his family. The Roman raids were growing in number and violence. After burying the man, his woman and three children, two girls and the baby boy, Prys said a prayer of thanks that his home was now out of reach of these raids.

  Prys knew Wynda was with child when he left. She did not want him to go, but he had to continue his trade or he would loose touch with those who knew him. It was the season to travel and every second year, he went deep into his homeland to the south. This was his life before he married. He met Wynda at a dal she had attended with Beathan, soon after Beathan had become chieftain. He had not planned on marrying, to do so meant he was setting down roots, not something a man in this way of life does easily.

  The boy Craig sent to Gleann must have yelled to the full fort that he was back. Women stood in the doorways of their homes, chickens mingling with children around their feet, to welcome him on his path to the smith. The men who were not in the fields or out racing with Beathan came out too, and followed him, all wanting to see the treasures he brought back.

  Gleann stood in his doorway and greeted him as well, his leather apron dark with sweat and heat marks, charcoal buried so deep into the creases of his hand that they never looked clean, no matter how much he dipped them into water. He lifted both arms and encircled Prys. Every time Gleann did this, Prys felt a short rush of fear. There would be no way he would be able to escape the big man's strength if Gleann wanted to hurt him. The fear quickly gave way to happiness though, when he saw a smile on Gleann's face.

  "We did not expect you back for a few more moons, Prys," said Gleann.

  "Yes, but the Romans have started patrolling even the back ways I take and the price they levy to let a man live is high. They are taking much more now, than giving back. Many people in the south are giving in and living the way they do, accepting their gods. It seems to be the way to stay alive now."

  Gleann clucked his disapproval of this news.

  "So I stopped this trip early, in caution. I think I will make one more long trip and then stay here to be a bother to you and Wynda for the rest of my short life." Both men laughed.

  "Beathan will want a full report tonight at his evening meal. You can tell us more of your adventure then," said Gleann.

  "Yes, after I see Wynda, I will be at the meal tonight. The first pony has the packs for you, Gleann." Prys had decided to give the gold nugget to Beathan tonight.

  Gleann stood over the pony, unstrapping the heavily laden packs. "Boy, be sure to take the ponies to your father's stables when done. He will be glad to see them back in good health."

  Prys turned to see a young man standing in the doorway. "Finlay?" It would have been hard to recognize the boy he had left six months ago, as this fine young man. Finlay now stood as tall as he. Finlay was thin, but Prys could see that he would fill out as he spent more time in the smith. As a trainee to Gleann, he would never lack for hard work.

  Finlay grasped Prys' hand with his almost as stained as Gleann's. "Welcome back. I will be at the evening meal also. I want to hear your stories."

  "I look forward to seeing you and all your family at your father's tonight," said Prys.

  Prys took the bags off the second pony and opened one. He dug around inside and touched the highly polished bronze he had found as a gift for Wynda. It was polished so well, it reflected person's face. It was expensive but a fitting gift for his wife, a guilt gift because he was away from home. He also found the rolled piece of leather he was searching for. "Gleann, I would like you to make a bracelet for Wynda with this design on it." Prys handed the leather roll to him.

  Gleann unrolled the leather, looked at the spirals drawn on it. Prys continued, "I was told it is the spiral of life. I ask you that this bracelet to be the next thing you make."

  Gleann faced Prys, nodded, put the leather into the apron pocket and continued into the smith.

  Prys now had time to look around and noticed all the women were still in their doorways, watching.

  In a loud voice
, to be heard over all the yard noises, he said, "I bring two pieces of cloth. A new weave is being practiced in the south and I knew you would be interested. I will give one to Gavina, and the second to Wynda. They will share it with all of you."

  Happy voices chorused his way before the women turned in to their homes to attend to evening meals.

  Suddenly he felt a tug the sleeve of his tunic. Gavina stood at his elbow. He handed the cloth intended for her to her.

  "I heard what this is and I thank you for bringing it all this way. We will look at it carefully and decide if it is a useful way for us to weave. Wynda did not say she expected you Prys."

  "She would not. I am home early."

  "Ah. She has gone to the sacred oaks. She left yesterday and is heavy with child. I was not easy with her decision, but she made me promise not to tell Beathan until tomorrow. Now that you are here, you should go and be sure she is well. The druid is there, but…"

  "I thought the babe might have been born and waiting for me when I came home. Yes, I will keep this pony and ride up to her. Thank you, Gavina. Please tell Beathan that I will attend his evening meal after I bring Wynda safely home."

  Prys mounted the pony, his legs reaching past the pony's belly, and turned it to the mountain trail behind the fort.

  * * *

  A girl child had been born, wrapped in Wynda's cape, and now snuggled and searched for her breast as she rested propped up by an oak tree. Annag wrapped the afterbirth in oak leaves and buried it under the oldest oak in the grove, Ogilhinn saying a protection spell as he laid a sprig of mistletoe over the small mound.

  "I am going home," Annag said. "My husband will be looking for me soon, he had enough stew for three days and now I am sure it is gone."

  Ogilhinn touched her head and said, "May the Mother Morrigna look down on you with pleasure. I thank you for coming."

  Annag gathered her cape and cooking pot and started down the animal path on the opposite side of the mountain that Wynda had climbed.

  "Ogilhinn, will this child live longer than a few hours?" Wynda was fearful, she felt herself falling in love with this babe and knew one more child's death might be the death of her, as well. She was not sure she could live through it again.