Dagda slowed Sceolán to a halt and took a minute to take in his surroundings as he came to the crest of City hill. After two days of hard riding he had reached the outskirts of the city just as evening approached. No doubt where they`ll be at this time, though they preferred to remain amongst their own amidst the familiar and comforting environment of the forest it was not uncommon, especially among the younger Druaidíi, to spend time in Aileann's chief cities. Of those chief cities none compared to Gorias, largest and grandest of them all it was the brightest jewel in the Partholón crown. Set upon a sprawling stone arch that overlooked the mouth of the Abhainn river it held a commanding view of the surrounding landscape and environment. Sitting as it did upon the natural arch it provided its port valuable shelter from the strong, unpredictable winds blowing in from the South Sea and had therefore grown to become a centre of trade and the Partholóns biggest shipping port. From the Royal Citadel to the immense outer walls Dagda knew it well enough by now.
The city stood tall and imposing as the sun began its descent and as Dagda passed beneath the Heavy wooden Doors of its Main Gate he couldn’t help but ponder on its history. These walls, these gates, these towers, all were built to keep out people like me, and now here I am as part of a delegation to the King to petition his aid against a common foe. How times change.
Upon entering the city it was full of the expected hustle and bustle of city life, traders shouted their goods while prostitutes shouted theirs, though with their eyes not words. Ignoring it all he made his way down the now familiar route through the winding streets to the docks.
All the way down he went until he came in sight of the faded, welcoming exterior of Gorias’ oldest and most famous tavern. Despite numerous owners and a whole host of names it had been commonly known since the earliest days as the Waterway. It was neither the classiest nor the most sophisticated inn in the city, yet it was everything a good ale house should be and Dagda and the others first port of call whenever they happened to be Gorias. Even before reaching the door he heard all the shouts and roars associated with a pub full of battle-hardened drinkers with cries of joy, agony and sorrow being heard in equal measure. Inside he was not surprised at all to see that both Tadhg and Cormac were already present, though Michaél's appearance did intrigue him somewhat. Dagda had expected him to be up at the Royal district with Ardgal not slumming it down here with them. Then again Michaél was not one to turn down a tankard of ale easily.
As always the easiest one to spot was Tadhg, almost as tall as he was wide he took up space enough for two people on his chosen bench. Dagda made his way over to the table and took his place alongside Michaél, eldest of them his stooped frame made him appear old and frail, an appearance which could not be further from the truth, for he remained as fierce and deadly as ever, the knocks and bruises suffered by all in his training sessions were a testament to that. He was the first to notice Dagda's arrival.
“Well, well, bout time you showed up young Dagda. Anything interesting happening along your way? I’m rather sorry I didn't join you to be honest, what with Ardgal, refusing to talk about nothing else other than all the preparation that lies before us and how we must focus now on readying ourselves for the tough times ahead. All true no doubt yet it hardly makes for great roadside chatter. I tell you I had a conversation with him for thirty minutes at one point and I didn’t speak one word.”
Dagda smiled, though he was Ardgal's most trusted friend and confidant none complained about him more than Michaél. Though such is the way of closest friends.
“I thought you'd be up there with him? You being so world-wise and knowledgeable I refuse to believe Ardgal agreed to meet the King without his chief advisor.”
Michaél paused with the cup of mead halfway to his lips and peered bemusingly at Dagda. “The last place I’d want to be is up there with those Royal folk going round and round again about every little question, I'd go mad.”
“I wish I was there.” Cormac spoke up, the most well read and book smart of their number he hated not knowing exactly what was happening at all times. It was like an itch he had to scratch. “Reckon we'll be included? The King has already called in the Earls, seems there's to be a top-secret meeting tomorrow.”
“If it's top-secret then how the hell do you know about it?” enquired Tadhg. As usual he was swamping down the tankards of ale and by the sound of him he was already well invested.
Cormac shrugged nonchalantly, “Top secret for most, I however have my contacts within the city.”
Tadhg snorted, “Cormac the whole bloody city knows about the damn meeting, impossible not to after the show Earl Harfrigh put on arriving. Maybe you should take it easy on that ale, it's starting to go to your head I’d say.”
Tadhg winked at Dagda, he always loved riling Cormac up. Though only a month or so behind the others it might as well have been a decade to the other two.
Dagda decided to play along. “Actually to be honest now you mention it walking in I did think Cormac seemed a bit unsteady.” He shook his head in mock worry, “You know Cormac if you want one of us can walk you to the room?”
“Ah here, Tadhg's way worse than me, besides I always drink more than ye two anyhow, it’ll be me who ends up dropping ye home again like as not.”
Tadhg and Dagda struggled not to laugh at the indignant expression upon his face. Michaél intervened before they could respond,
“Alright alright, enough you two, we’ve plenty more important matters to discuss. Indeed I would go so far as to say that we may yet see War again in these lands. Milesians have made their move and we must respond in kind.”
After pouring himself a drink Dagda took a long swallow from his tankard. “I’m not so sure,” he countered, “back at the village the one who made to fire at Ardgal must surely of had opportunities well before I sounded any alarm, yet he waited until the villagers had been silenced before he drew his crossbow. Seems to me that they were hoping for the townspeople to revolt themselves and then aid them, thereby wiping us out whilst keeping their hands clean. Yet we still bear some power over these lands and when the people relented my guess is the Milesians moved to plan B, otherwise they’d never have risked open battle with all of us. The Milesians haven’t conquered half the world by taking unnecessary uncalculated risks. If the Milesians portray it as rogue or foreign warriors, whatever the facts, then I don’t see us getting the Partholóns up to fight them, much as I’d like em too.” Tadhg wiped his mouth and slammed his first down on the table, startling the other pub goers with the force,
“Might as well do it now I say, War is coming whether we like it or not, now is as good a time as any. Everyday we grow weaker and they grow stronger, let's meet them now and see who comes out on top.”
Michaél looked at Tadhg with raised eyebrows. “Is that so Big man, perhaps Ardgal should have you as his War GeneraI,” he quipped, provoking a loud outburst of laughter from Tadhg himself.
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Strangely however Dagda found he agreed with his assessment, waiting has done us more harm than good, the more we bide our time the more settled and familiar with the land the Milesians become.
Cormac leaned in over the table his face screwed in concentration “I think Tadhg has the right of it, we ought to strike first, gather those loyal and march as one to the Milesian capital. Rout them before they can get word back to the continent and their fleets.” Tadhg and Dagda nodded their approval but Michaél remained stoic as ever.
“The only reason the Milesians haven’t already taken this land is because they’re been too focused elsewhere. But I’ve been listening into those around us. News from the outside world seems to paint the Milesians as having dealt with the recent revolts in Desgrad and Pervar and they are now ready to look East to us once more. It's true that we’ve defeated them in open battle before, the Alliance had its victory then but in truth it was no war. It was a test, a probe into our lands to study our strengths, our weaknesses. When the Milesians strike again, and they will, it may not even be enough for an alliance of all Aileann’s peoples to drive them back.”
“Perhaps we need more allies then.”
Michaél eyed Dagda suspiciously, “Perhaps, though I can think of none not already approached.”
“Well we are not in fact the only Druaidíi in Aileann are we? Not exactly anyways.”
“Dagda, do not even think of saying it. We are the only Druaidíi on this island. That is not up for debate.”
Dagda shrugged, “What? They once were Druaidíi right? With the right… persuasion, I reckon we could get them on side?”
“They are more likely to kill us then anyone else Dagda, you’d know that had you ever even attempted to speak with one. Have you forgotten about the last expedition sent to speak with our long lost kin.”
“I haven’t. Though maybe we could learn from that. I’m just saying is all.”
“Well don’t be just saying, it’s madness.”
Tadhg looked at Dagda and Michaél with a bewildered look upon his face, “Don’t be what? The hell ye talking about?”
“You really need to brush up on our history.” Cormac threw his eyes to the heavens at Tadhg’s blank expression. “They are talking about the Forgotten Ones.” He brought his fingers up to his lips, “There was a text written on them about a thousand years ago now, what was it called…. ahhh…. ‘Where do they lie’ that was it, it’s old but I highly doubt there’s been much change with them since. Gives quite a detailed account on those unfortunate souls left outside when the flood came but did not perish in its wrath. The ones which evolved, or rather devolved into mindless creatures of savagery and complete viciousness against all and any which dared traverse their lonely swamps. Especially us. Seeing as it was our ancestors which refused them access to the vaults all those years ago.”
“Vicious yes, mindless no,” Dagda raised a hand before Cormac could protest using another quote from one book or another, “there is more to them than we know. Besides whatever tortures their environment has done to them it has left them to live on far beyond our own lifetimes. For them we might as well be the very same Druaidíi which refused them. I’d hate us too.”
Michaél shook his head, “Dagda for the love of Gods they’ve been known to eat our kind? To eat us. You try get close to them and before you say one word and they’ll have dragged you down to their sunken halls never to be seen again. Best leave them to their swamps and forget they ever existed.”
“A thought is all.”
“A pretty fuckin terrible one.” Tadhg downed his drink, “I remember the tales now,” he shook his head, “I’d far rather face any army of men than any of those zombies. Remember we spied them at Lake Woe. Even then I could sense their power, their strength. No far better to forget all about them.”
Dagda sat back in his seat and raised his arms in acceptance realising it was a topic for another time, another day. “Very well, I bow to your reason and logic. Anyways we have far more pressing matters to attend to right now. I am almost out of drink.”
“Aye and I reckon it's time enough you bought something for us Dagg,” Tadhg bellowed, “so be a good lad and fetch us four of the Waterway’s finest.”
Several rounds of mead and uisce beatha later the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol were starting to reach them all.
“So…..” Dagda took a moment to remember his thoughts, “Ah yes right so were all Druaidíi here yes?” Michaél and Cormac nodded and Tadhg grunted, “Absolutely yes, definitely Druaidíi, we’re Druaidíi, got the hooded cloaks and everything, look see”, he fumbled but eventually managed to pull up his hood emphasising the point.
Dagda pointed emphatically at Tadhg, “Yes exactly. And we’re the last of us, those other Druaidíi, the ones living on the continent they’ve all been killed or exiled right? Or at least dispersed and divided so badly that it makes no difference. Meaning we’re the only real Druaidíi presence left. Us here in Aileann. Right?” Everyone agreed. Good, I'd made my point.
“Exactly.” Dagda proclaimed proudly.
Michaél stared expectantly, “Exactly what? You didn’t say anything you gossoon, you just listed off some facts? What the hell was the point in that?”
Dagda shook his head "Oh fuck yeah right so knowin all that and knowin we could soon be getting into this big war with all them Milesian boys...What’s next? I mean once we win? Then what we just wait for the next group of invaders?”
Michaél looked at Dagda with disgust and took his head in his hands, “My Gods,” he mumbled, “That's it, that's the big question. Morrigan save me, I suppose it's my fault for expecting something profound.”
Dagda leaned back a little stung and grumbled to himself. “It was profound enough.”
“Well I love it,” shouted Tadhg, “since we could walk we’ve been trained and our skills developed and grown by the family, this is what we are, warriors of nature. It's what we are supposed to be, my parents were warriors and their parents were warriors and their…
“Yes, yes alright alright we get it,” intervened Michaél.
Tadhg, unperturbed continued, “It's all we know, it's all we need to know.”
Cormac, who had appeared half asleep, began to speak, though his eyes remained shut. “Look we all know our history, it's why we have the abilities we do… and it's why people respect us so much. Whatever happens we’ll have a future. We’re Druaidíi.”
Tadhg laughed, “We are, hoods and all.”
Michaél shook his head at their words, “Blaahh history, it has nothing to do with history. Any respect we have is cause of our powers, they know to get rid of us would be a pain in the arse, that's why we're still here, nothing else. In any case it matters little what slurred ideas come from our mouths tomorrow the Council will meet and our course will be decided.”
“Enough.” he proclaimed loudly even though rather confusingly he was the only one speaking. It's time we went to our beds, tomorrow will be painful enough without a treacherous hangover. Let us get some sleep now while we still can.”
Dagda nodded enthusiastically, “Aye, we"ll be away in a minute or two, just need to finish these last few, right Tadhgy?”
“What? Oh yeah yeah definitely I’m actually feeling a bit tired myself, And i do need a bed that's for certain,” Tadhg grinned toothily elbowing Dagda aggressively as he did so. Michaél got up from the table, Cormac sleepily following suit, he took one last sceptical look at them as they sat, “I’ll see ye tomorrow then, and whatever it is yere doing...don’t get caught.”
As they walked away Dagda and Tadhg shared a familiar look.
“Minervas?” Tadhg enquired.
“Minervas,” Dagda agreed heartily. Downing what was left of their drinks they made their way out into the early morn darkness and on to the best, most coveted whorehouse in all Aileann.