Ailill sat in the belly of the longship and looked up at Medb standing in the prow with an arm wrapped around the figurehead. She held the dragon as though it would protect her from all that was ill in the world.
The king and his queen were going to Ynys Môn.
The winds were strong from the west, so sailing from Indber Colptha to Caergybi was fast. Even from the belly of the ship, Ailill could see the hillfort on top of the rise. They would be pulled up on the beach by early afternoon and so should make the settlement before nightfall.
They were going to Caer Leb, the stronghold of the druids on the other side of the island, which was known as Druid Island. Medb had convinced Ailill they should petition the druids to stop the coronation of Mac Nessa as High King. Since he refused Mane clemency and then belittled him in the feast hall of Temuir, Medb had been against the King of Ulster. She was adamant they should not crown him as High King. It seemed Medb had made thwarting Mac Nessa’s plans her life’s work.
Truth be told, although he understood it, Ailill did not share Medb’s hatred of Ulster. Mane had committed treason, knowing what the penalty would be. Ailill did not respect Mac Nessa for having Mane wallowing in his filth in front of the power of the Five Kingdoms, but those types of theatrics were Ulster’s style, and the King of Connacht did not think his pettiness was reason to oppose the man at every turn. Three years had passed, and Ailill thought it was time to forget.
Connacht’s king thought Ériu needed a new ruler as soon as possible. The division caused by the lack of a High King weakened the Five Kingdoms. Divided, they were an easy target for reavers, of which there was no lack around the seas of Alba and Ériu. After the havoc wreaked by Ingcél, Ailill knew the kingdoms could ill afford another invasion. But also, the Romans were coming. They had already subjugated the tribes of Gaul and invaded Alba twice. It would only be a matter of time before Alba fell, and then where would the Five Kingdoms be?
Next on the list, Ailill knew.
“What are you thinking, husband?” Medb asked as she joined him in the belly of the ship.
Ailill looked at her with admiration as well as love. She was still a very handsome woman, and her hair blowing about in loose array tempted Ailill to show the extent of his passion in the belly of the ship in front of the merchant and his crew. “I was thinking how the lack of a High King weakens us.”
“And why am I so opposed to Mac Nessa, no doubt?” Medb asked, looking away from him.
“Yes, Medb, I must admit it did cross my mind. Our son knew he was committing treason when he fled with the brothers. He knew the penalty. To return then, under the sway of that mad Briton, could end only one way. Ulster did what any king would do, only a little more theatrically.”
Ailill watched as his wife’s face became suffused with anger. He did not understand the hatred he saw etched in every line of her forehead. Mac Nessa was arrogant and bigoted, far too full of his own importance, but the rage Ailill saw in Medb went much deeper. He watched her gain control over herself before she spoke.
“Can I just say that I think Ulster would not be good for the Five Kingdoms as High King. There must be a better choice.”
Ailill looked at Medb. He could see the effort she needed to keep her anger in check. “You know, Medb, I will support you in whatever endeavor you choose. I am your husband, and I trust you implicitly.”
“Thank you, Ailill. I do appreciate your support,” Medb said and gave her head a tilt.
“We will be ashore soon,” she said as she started to instinctively fix her hair.
The ride from Caergybi to Caer Leb was across the middle of the island. The paths were narrow, and the progress was slow. The ride took five hours, and the sun was setting when they reached the gates to the settlement. Aillil sent a messenger ahead so the gatekeeper would be expecting them and would not cause unnecessary delays.
“The Elder Council awaits you in the feast hall,” the gatekeeper said while closing the gates behind the last of the king’s warriors.
“If you do not mind, Ailill, I will talk to the elders alone.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I do not want them to think it is you who is going against the wishes of the Assembly.”
“But why, my queen, what possible difference could it make to me?”
“They might think Mac Nessa is the correct choice for the Five Kingdoms, and I do not want to alienate you from them. It is no matter if they think I am causing trouble, I wield no power in the Kingdoms.”
Ailill was not sure he agreed with Medb about not being a power in Ériu, but he knew when his wife had decided and when he could not dissuade her. He nodded and said, “You will find me in the hostel when you are done.”
***
Medb entered the feast hall and saw the druids sitting at the table, which ran the length of the interior. She knew them except for a younger man sitting near the door where she had entered. She knew the beardless elder would be the new Taidle Ulad, the druid of Temuir. The old Taidle had lost his head to the Briton during the battle of Glencree.
She caught sight of Kathvar halfway up the table and cursed inwardly. She needed allies in the council if her petition were to succeed, and Kathvar was the exact opposite of an ally. Kathvar was present whenever she suspected Ulster of malefaction, and she believed the druid was the real power behind the King. Since the rape, she saw Mac Nessa as a spiteful child with the body and urges of a man and a streak of pure malice.
She was surprised to see Myrddin, the druid of Caer Leb, sitting at the top of the table. She had thought Dornoll or Biróg would have occupied the seat vacated by Taidle’s death. The druidesses were both wily and highly regarded throughout the Five Kingdoms, where Myrddin was thought to be reaching the end of his usefulness on the council.
Medb fidgeted nervously. She always found standing in front of the council a daunting experience. Surprisingly, the seven were all present. It was unusual to see them all on the island together, but then she supposed they had gathered before the Assembly of Kings when a new High King was to be elected. They would all attend such an assembly, as would all the chieftains of the Five Kingdoms.
“You are welcome, Medb,” Dornoll said with a smile.
So, Myrddin at the head of table is for show, Medb realized. It was the nominal leader of the council who welcomed petitions. There could be no doubt who was leading. With Biróg to her immediate right, it would seem that women currently dominated the council, which made Medb slightly more comfortable in her petition.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“How may we be of service to Connacht?” Dornoll asked.
It was a question that surprised Medb more than the presence of the seven. All in the Five Kingdoms knew Medb was the power behind the throne of Connacht, but to publicly admit it was not something many would consider.
She looked at Dornoll and frowned. Do they know why I am here? she wondered.
“I have come regarding the upcoming Assembly,” she said, which earned a smile and a nod from Dornoll, answering her earlier question.
Am I on a fool’s errand? she wondered. Even with Dornoll and Biróg leading the council?
“You are opposed to the election of Mac Nessa. We know this already. What we do not know is why,” Mug said.
Medb looked at the aging druid. Rumor was that he was suffering from the disease common in the aged, an affliction that caused the brain to melt slowly, removing all cognitive function over time, but she could see no evidence of it. He seemed alert, and his comment was poignant. It meant nothing, because she had also heard the symptoms could be like the ebb and flow of the tide. Mug was obviously in a lucid period, the tide ebbing, perhaps explaining why they allowed him to sit at the table.
Is it worth my breath to utter a petition? More doubts. Always doubting. At least inwardly, keeping her face neutral, giving away nothing of those doubts. Even Ailill was not privy to the inner thoughts of his queen.
“You have something to say?” Dornoll prompted.
I must at least try, she thought, before saying, “He is not fit to rule the common room latrine in Emain Macha’s hostel, let alone the Five Kingdoms.”
“As everyone around this table has heard you state before. But what we are not hearing, Medb, is any evidence to support your claims. You say he is unfit. Give us proof, and we will listen. Stand there blustering, and we will continue with our council. We have much to do in preparation for the coming Assembly of Kings.”
The queen looked around at the seven faces. She could see no allies in their stern looks. Even the women were not looking friendly. She bit her bottom lip and realized coming here might not have been wise. Still, she had made the choice, and there was little or no possibility now to change it. They knew why she had come; if she turned on her heel and walked away, no one would ever take her seriously again.
She had to stand her ground.
“He raped me,” she whispered.
The council members looked around the table at each other. Kathvar shrugged his shoulders. Mug started to drool from the corner of his mouth.
“We did not hear you,” Dornoll said.
“Ulster attacked me on the banks of the river Boyne. He forced himself upon me and claimed it was a punishment for my being wilful. They were not the actions of someone who could rule the Five Kingdoms. If justice were a reality, he would be in the bog beside my son.”
Medb had not been sure what reaction such a bold statement would evoke, but she had expected some reaction. Anything. The hiss of drawn breath, cries of outrage. Even derision. Instead, the seven just sat there and looked at her.
“When did this happen?” Dornoll asked.
“On the eve of the last Assembly of Kings, three years ago.”
“There were witnesses?” Biróg asked, eyes boring into her without blinking, showing her disapproval of Medb’s petition. The message in those eyes was clear: how dare you slander the good name of the King of Ulster? Medb felt tears of rage welling up behind her eyes but managed to hold onto them. She could not afford to break down in front of these people. It would mark the end of her cause if she showed any weakness.
Even more than doubts, I must hide any weakness.
The queen mutely shook her head. She realized the council would not entertain her petition because they thought they knew what was best for the Five Kingdoms and—like the chieftains—thought Mac Nessa would make a strong High King. Without proof, she would not shake them from their resolve.
“It was in a secluded glade by the river,” she whispered.
“Speak up, Medb. As Dornoll said, we cannot hear you,” Kathvar gloated.
“It was in a secluded glade next to the river Boyne. There was no one there but us.”
“It is your word against his,” Dornoll mused.
“It is my word against his,” Medb agreed, dropping her head. “I would have expected the council to take my word at face value.”
“As would Mac Nessa, I have no doubt,” Kathvar almost laughed.
Dornoll looked at him with eyes that would halt a careening chariot before she turned to Medb and said, “As it happens, there are some of us on the council who do not hold with the idea of having Ulster as High King. Some of us believe the stories of High King Connery hold merit. Others feel Mac Nessa’s need to be theatrical could only be counterproductive. It is plausible he would make decisions based on theatrical impact and not for the good of the Five Kingdoms.”
Medb lifted her head and looked at Dornoll. She seemed to be saying the council would also oppose the election of her enemy. If anything, the druidess seemed to be suggesting they would oppose him regardless of the truth of Medb’s petition.
“That said, we cannot have the Five Kingdoms left without a High King. There is a growing threat out of the east, and we need the kingdoms united to be in a position to face it.”
“I agree, Dornoll.”
“Before you arrived, we agreed we would oppose the election of Ulster at the upcoming Assembly of Kings, but if there is no suitable candidate by the next assembly, he will be unopposed.”
Medb glanced at the faces turned expectantly towards her, except Kathvar, who was frowning at the feasting table.
“What do you think, Medb?” Dornoll asked.
“I think it is a suitable compromise,” she said, thinking it would give her three more years to devise some way to oppose him effectively.
“You are free to return to Connacht. Please wish your king well from me,” Dornoll smiled for the first time since Medb had entered the feast hall.
The queen nodded and left without another word.
Medb found Ailill in the settlement hostel drinking a flagon of mead with his boots off and his feet propped up on a bench close to the cooking fire.
“How did it go, my queen?” he asked with a slight slur.
“You are in your cups.”
“A little, it is true, but I am not so far gone that I will not remember our conversation,” Ailill said with a smile and a wave of his mead.
“They have agreed to oppose his election this time but will not do so indefinitely. We must think of other ways we can oppose him.”
“Do not worry, Medb,” Ailill said with a mead-ridden belch and a smile. “Over the next three years, between us, we will surely think of many ways to oppose him.”