Prelude: Eat, Drink, and be Merry

[Olligarchy]

Scratching his ear due to some itch or another, Amlaíb looks to his aunt, the Magician and finally to his father and brother, decreeing that he might as well speak his piece.

"If you were to ask me." Which Amlaíb was quite sure he wasn't,"I'd say mine aunt and frolics-with-magic here are quite correct. In a true alliance we'll either be simply a tool to be used and discarded at will, or a means to an end. As such we should naught enter such a pact that we might come to regret, but as I am sure mine brother has noted... five hundred swords is no mean feat to muster. If these Angles truly believe with our assistance they may clear out a land for both of us, let us take them up on it I say!"

Laughing Amlaíb looks to those around the room,"Mayhaps we should see what their swords are worth, and for once be the ones giving out the pain rather than receiving it? With their swords we may reclaim our ancestral homelands, and should we desire mayhaps turn on them when the time comes to divy up the spoils?"

Falling silent again, Amlaíb resists the urge to wince. Such talk with his honorable kin and kith was not likely to receive applause, but it needed to be said.

[TetNak]

King Eus does not appear upset that Amlaíb has spoken his piece. "The rest of you," he says, looking at the other three members of his teulu, "What say you?" Rhedyn, Amlaíb and Derwin had already spoken, it was time to hear the rest.

[Wbweather]

Berwyn glances around the room looking to see if anyone else is ready to speak. Seeing his father waiting and no one else making any effort to say their piece, he turns to Eus ap Eus and begins.

"Father, If I could have avoided bringing any of this matter before you on your name day, I certainly would have. I am afraid I have caused dissent among our people and a shadow to your thoughts. I think you know me well enough realize that I am faithful to you to a fault. I seek only the protection of our clan and I hope you will believe me when I say that the attention of some foreign girl could never sway me in that commitment. However, what we have been offered in this alliance could be a gift greater than any we may get again. Five hundred men to fight our enemies. Here we sit, forced from our rightful homeland by these Saxon dogs. We fight back, but year by year our numbers dwindle. How long can we maintain as we are before we are driven from Hyllr as well? I see that there is danger and risk with such an alliance, but without risk, no great deeds are ever accomplished. I say we take this offer of alliance, but on our own terms. Meet with this Aerthel, the Angle king and see what terms he can offer. Let us approach this from a position of strength and I believe we can achieve a greater victory that we could hope to otherwise ever come by in our lifetimes."

[Hayabusa]

Nuallan looks from his closest friend, one of the king's sons to the king himself. He knows little of the politics and they do not matter much to him.

"I too see no reason not to grab this chance. One of our swords counts as ten of the enemy. If our homeland can be returned to us then why not grab what you can and never let it slip from our grasp again," he says, the image of youth and eagerness but with the fighting skill to back it up. "This friendship between us and them will last as long as it will and if it breaks, then we can still claim what's rightfully others. Let us drive the Saxons into the ocean and see how long anything else holds up!"

[Eanwulf]

OOC

Ack! I totally overlooked the part where I had returned! My apologies!

Trahaeran returns and upon his arrival, promptly pats many of the warriors who had accompanied him on the patrol and bids them thanks and then to continue on with the celebration. He himself however, only does so slightly; opting instead to give his son a warm smile of relief to indicate that all had gone well on his patrol and was met without peril. The large warrior then reports his findings to the king and joins him in his name-day's celebration.

Trahaeran's gift for King Eus, a delectable meal of haggis prepare with a side of mashed fruit sauce and spices is served upon the large man's return but for some reason, tastes somewhat bland and out of place to Trahaeran. The recipe for the succulent meal was handed down to the warrior from his grandmother, an alleged druidess of Corieltauvi and powerful sorceress. Still however, there were more pressing issues to be discussed, so no matter how hard he tried to enjoy it, Trahaeran found the meal to be out of place and as such, unappealing to his troubled pallet.

In time, the meal and partying ends. Trahaeran plans to return to his hut and sleep away the evening's affairs, but is soon found attending the king's teulu in conversation. He listens to the king's sister's testimony on Bearnoch and the Angles carefully. His mind wanders to thoughts of the man he spotted outside and to his friendly behavior. He then listens to those who would speak out against the union and makes note of their already apparent disdain towards the Angles presence in general. Still however, the time before them is not for one of holding grudges or personal interest, but instead that of simple survival in a land filled with many enemies.

When asked, Trahaeran sighs deeply, stirring from his thoughts as if nearly asleep.

"I say we let these lot earn our trust, and not to give it to them so freely my lord. I would frown upon the king's decision to simply open our gates to these Angles and greet them there with loving arms and warm embrace. If their king is so desperate for a union of our two tribes, then let their king prove just how desperate he truly is."

A wry chuckle escapes Trahaeran's lips, his mood still reeling somewhat from the night's festiveness. He glances briefly towards Bearnoch and then to Berwyn.

"After all my king, a woman's heart is not given so freely to another without much sacrifice from their suitor. Who's to say that the same could not be said for the suitor himself and future husband? I say the king sends emissaries to discuss the plans to wed this Angle to your son and by such, gauge the state of affairs in the lands of the Angles and their king's true intentions."

Trahaeran's chuckle ends quickly, his face now somber and grim.

"A perilous task at that, my king; but not one without great bounty or honor. It would also keep your lordship safe from harm and acts of treachery."

[TetNak]

King Eus looks down into his near-empty cup of Roman wine. "This wine is finished, and so are the Britons if the Saxon horde washes over us. Vortigern was a bloody fool." Over a hundred years ago, the High-King Vortigern had paid Saxon mercenaries to battle against the Picts. The Saxons never stopped coming after that. "I feel we must take a chance, not only for us, but for all our peoples." He takes his final drink and slams the cup down on the table. "Five hundred men to kill Saxons. Five hundred men to restore Caer Logoe to my sons. This flea-bitten town is nothing that should be their birthright."

With a deep sigh, "My teulu will depart with the Angle girl on the morrow. Go to their home. We must place ourselves at risk for the greatest victory. That is always the way it is. Rhedyn will lead you, as she is most wise and of my blood. Five hundred Angle warriors. Two hundred Briton warriors. Both will destroy the Saxons from their lands, and from ours. Measure these people and see their worth on more than what's between the girl's thighs. Be weary, and let none of them, Angle or Saxon, know our thoughts. And, at last, take care. I do not wish that this would be the last I see any of you."

Eus stands and grabs Amlaíb into a massive hug. "It is I, your father, who has loved you and raised you. Save our people." He then goes to Berwyn and does the same. "It is I, your father, who has loved you and raised you. Save our people." Once he lets go, he nods to his sister, "Take care of them. I trust your wisdom, but we must take this chance. The other kings of Briton will not aid us, and so we must aid ourselves."

The king then says brief goodbyes to the rest of his teulu. "Return as quickly as you might. And I hope it is at the fore of five hundred warriors that will aid us crush the Saxons from Caer Logoe."

[Muskrat]

Rhedyn does not agree with Eus' decision, but can see why he made it. "As you wish, your majesty," says Rhedyn. "Will you clarify your will to us though? Are you bound and determined to see this marriage and alliance through? Or do you wish us to look more deeply into the matter and then return here for you to make final judgement? Or are you empowering me to make a decision about whether this is a wise alliance, with the advice of your sons and councilors?"

[TetNak]

"Return to me. Inspect everything, question them, trick them, do whatever you must to know the truth and every detail. Bring those details to me, and at last, you shall know my decision." Eus waves, "Leave me know, my head is full of wine and I must sleep."

[Olligarchy]

His fathers decision did not come as a surprise to Amlaíb. Wise he might be, and cautious in his own way, but it was clear he too had to grit his teeth to live in the barn they called their hall rather than their own holdfast. If there was a chance he could regain Caer Logoe he would take it, and this was as good a chance as he would get...

Assuming the Angles were worth their salt that is.

As his father embraces him, Amlaíb returns the firm grasp, but does not say anything. Only nodding firmly to the order. It was time for them to make a mark and go on the offensive for once.

With his fathers dismissal, Amlaíb looks around the now empty room and finds a pitcher of ale or mead and bidding everyone a good night heads on over to his chambers. Whilst the night might still be young for him, the hour of the wolf had come and passed and if they were to ride tomorrow he'd need to have his wits about him.

Sleep would come easy tonight with a head full of wine, mead and ale... and a stomach full of food.

[Wbweather]

Berwyn embraces his father and then watches as the man whom he has idolized his whole life gives his order and leaves the room. Long after the others depart, he sits by the dying firelight in the hearth of the empty hall, his mind racing with thought of what might lie before them. This task was his to take responsibility for, whatever the outcome. Fate had chosen him in the form of a beautiful young woman. Whether his clan would be restored to their rightful place in their proper place at Caer Logoe or suffer betrayal by Bearnoch's people, he knew that the bards would remember him in their songs as the one who set the events in motion. His die was cast and now only time would tell if he would be remembered as the restorer of his peoples greatness or Berwyn the Fool. He knew which he would choose if the choosing was his, but he had come to see that fate was fickle at best. Whatever would come, he would face it head on and stoically see it to completion. His one comforting thought was that he would not have to walk this path alone.