The Rite of Spring: The Leader of the Red Band

The Rite of Spring: Fragment 10g

The Leader of the Red Band
in which the elders of the Rhiconaiach consider the fate of their Princess

Old Ceathre called us to a Council of Elders again. He had to; or at least, somebody had to do something. I don't think the Council of Elders was the right thing, but perhaps there is no right thing. Chaorachain of the Red Horse brought another group into the Chieftain's camp last night; all that was left of four families, not more than twenty folk between all of them, and he the only blooded warrior. Old women and children, many on foot. They brought a small herd of goats, and I think twelve horses. No tents.

There will be more today.

There are too many of us here already. The grazing is almost gone, and the well is getting lower each day. Also, this is not good place to defend. At the same time, we must bring the tribe together into one place, because otherwise the Coiremhiconicfhearchaorusduadh will go on picking off our camps one by one.

So we met, as is customary, in front of the Chieftain's tent. Braert the Idiot took the stool, for he is the next in line, but fortunately he let Ceathre lead the meeting. Otherwise it would have been even worse than it was. Ceathre started by asking each of the war leaders in turn what we thought should be done to protect the outlying encampments until the new chief should return. In turn, we each said that they could not be protected, and that we would have to bring the clan together. Ceathre said that this could not be done. There was not enough grazing here to support the whole clan. Mheadhonach of the Blue said that was not the point; we must all move back towards the mountains, where we would have a shorter front to defend. I supported him.

Old Ceathre now got up very agitated. That could not be done, he said. Only the Chieftain could move the Chieftain's tent. In any case, it could only be a few days now before the new chief arrived. We must not do anything hasty in the meantime. I pointed out that the troop Aonan was to have sent back from Midnightshead had not returned, so we did not know what might have happened to her. Braert said he was bored with all this talking, and could he not go hunting now?

Duiriach of the Gold now spoke angrily. He is young for the Council; his father died with Aonach, and Duiriach is early to his inheritance. Still, he is a man grown. He served well in the Guard, and has proved a daring and effective leader of his band, for all he lacks the wisdom that will come with years. His people are the nearest to the camps of the Coiremhiconicfhearchaorusduadh, and has taken most of the casualties so far. He said that his men could not defend the Clan alone; if the council did nothing he would call them together and start for the hills without the rest of us. He'd lost a quarter of his men already. Ceathre said he must on no account do so without the permission of the new Chieftain. Could he not wait only two more days? Surely the Chieftain would have arrived by then.

It was at this point that a troop of my warriors galloped into the camp. The troop leader dismounted, and ran up to me, saluting with his spear. I saw that two of his companions seemed to have women captives on their horses. It is not the custom that the Chieftain's Council should be interrupted, so I asked the man to explain himself quickly. He said that a troop of Coiremhiconicfhear had ridden up almost to his position, and had dropped something into the grass, while calling insults at his troop. When they had gone, he had ridden up and found the two women. I asked, impatiently, who the women were. He looked embarrassed and said that he feared that they were dishonoured, and could not be named. The women were being led up to us; they were unclad. I saw that one of them had been my daughter Fheardhan, who had accompanied Aonan.

I spoke to her, asking where was our Princess, whom she had been bound to guard? She replied that she did not know. They had been ambushed in the gate of the pass by Coiremhiconicfhear, and most of the escort had been slain. They had ridden on up the pass, coming to the point where the defile comes out onto the open coll, and it is customary to wait for darkness to avoid the dragons. But the enemy had been close behind them, so that they had had to continue. They had hoped to reach the hostel, where they would have been safe. When the first dragon had attacked, her horse had thrown her, and had bolted. She had sheltered under a rock. She had seen Aonan ride on, with two remaining of the escort, but two dragons had been chasing them. She had seen nothing further of her. Later the Coiremhiconicfhear had caught her, as they had also caught Ruadhonan and Mheadhonan earlier in the defile. Mheadhonan had managed to kill herself rather than submit to their captors.

This story upset everyone in the council. For Mheadhonach as well as myself, it was a daughter lost. For Duiriach - well, the woman of his tent had lately died in childbearing, and the child with her - I knew that he had been discussing a price for Mheadhonan. The princess was Ceathre's grand-daughter. And we all knew that the news meant uncertainty and danger for the whole Clan.

I asked the girl if it was true that she had been defiled. She said that such was the case. I then ordered the troop leader to take the two women a days march from the camp and release them. The girl started to object bitterly, calling me

"father"

and weeping. I was much embarassed. Fortunately old Ceathre intervened. He told her that as a defiled woman, she had no place in the Noble Clan. She was cast out. She had no name and no family. If she and her companion did not go at once, and quietly, he would name some worse fate for them.

Duiriach broke in, saying that we were foolish to send the women away. Many of the young women belonging to his band had been seized or defiled. If things went on at this rate there would be no women left to bear sons for the warriors, and we would need many strong young men in the years to come. Of course no-one would want to take an unnamed woman into his tent, but with things as they were many of the younger men of poor family would be prepared to do so. However dishonoured they might be, they were after all still women of the Noble Race, and not of some filthy and debased foreign stock.

Mheadhonach said that they could not be considered noble, for they had submitted to their own defilement, and not taken their own lives as a noble woman, such as his own beloved daughter, would do. How could the sacrifice of his beloved daughter be honoured, he asked, if we were to take such sluts back into the tribe. This angered me. I felt that my name was sufficiently shamed already, without his crowing. I too had lost a daughter, but I would not have the sympathy of other men for my loss. I said that I agreed with him. Of course we could not allow sluts into the camps of the Noble Clan. I had already ordered that they should be taken out. This should be done.

The woman again spoke, still calling me

"father", saying if I would not take her back into my tent, would I not at least give her clothing to cover her shame, and water, that she might not die of thirst before she found shelter from the sun? I did not look at her, but again ordered the troop leader to take her away. At this Duiriach got up. Without speaking, he took off his tunic, and threw it to the woman who had been my daughter. He threw her his belt knife, and his water skin. Then he pulled off his shirt and headcloth, threw them to the other woman. Then he sat down, and said as if there had been no interruption that his people could not wait another two days; and if the news we had heard today were true, in all probability the new Chieftain would not come.

Everyone looked at Braert; the same thought was, I think, in all our minds. Braert said he was very bored. All this talking was too complicated. He wanted to go hunting now. Before Duiriach's theatrical gesture, I had intended to offer to support him; now, I kept quiet. Mheadhonach said that Duiriach was right. We must pull back. If the Chieftain's camp could not be moved, it would have to be left. I said that the Chieftain's camp housed the honour of the Clan, and could not be abandoned. But they need not fear; the Red Band were not lost to honour. We would defend it.

Ceathre said that, as it seemed that Aonan's mission must have failed, and that she herself must have fallen with it, the problem was solved. Braert was surely the Chieftain. We should now invest him in his office, and then everything would be all right. Braert said he didn't want to be invested. He wanted to go hunting. He wanted to go hunting now. We were all boring. All we did was talk and talk and talk and we never did anything that was fun. I think that that may have been the first occasion in his long life when all the war leaders of the Noble Clan agreed with Braert. None of us wanted him to be invested. In the end, we agreed to meet again in three days; and no other decision was reached.

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