Hold Me as I Fall

Chapter 2: The Clans Meet

Eleven large men sat down around an elaborately carved wooden table in the center of a tall room. Their chairs had high backs and draped over the top of each was a cape. All finely decorated with intricate stitching in gold, each one made of a different material: one looked to be deer, another a cow, one a wolf, while the rest were various hard to distinguish animals. Only one chair was unoccupied, marked by the absence of cape and body.

The walls surrounding the men were wooden, and balls of light rested in wooden cups that protruded from the walls. Each cup was latticed at the bottom, allowing the light to escape its confines. Sap slowly crept down from the corners of the room as the men argued amongst themselves. One man would shuffle his feet, the next would grunt, and the cycle would repeat itself.

"My son will be returning soon; he will bring us the information that we need." Grunted one of the large men. His eyes were a brilliant golden, and he had raven black hair. He wore a light blue robe with silver stitching. An insignia of a wolf was etched into the right sleeve that billowed out around his thick, muscular arms. Various scars marked his face, and his nose was slightly crooked as though it had been broken at some point in time. He looked proud and sat higher than the rest of the men around the table.

"Torian, it has been months and your son has not returned. You clan should have sent stronger warriors to obtain the information we need, now the enemy is at our doors, and we have nothing to use against them." The voice came from a shorter, angrier man across the table from Torian. He was the smallest of all the men, but his shoulders sat wide and gave him considerable bulk. His robe was a brilliant orange, the color of the sunrise as it peaked over the forest. His eyes a bottomless pit of black. On his right sleeve, the insignia of the rabbit, etched in silver.

"My son has never failed us before, Sullivan. War is unpredictable, things happen. I am sure they will return soon."

"But we must consider the Clans." The men murmured in agreement as Sullivan said this.

Another man with long curly red hair and a yellow robe spoke up. His lengthy red beard scraped the top of the smooth wooden table as he spoke in a deep rugged voice. "The Muc are bordering the Northern edge of my territory. It is not a question of if your son will come through, but when. I cannot risk the lives of my people and as such, I urge the other clans to consider this-an alliance. My clan has control of the Leigheas Falls. We would be willing to allow any allied clan to come and collect the medicinal plants that grow along the Falls in return for help protecting our Northern border."

This was met with all the men at the table muttering to themselves again, followed by a blonde man with a large red nose and purple robes standing up, "We will take you up on your proposition, Trystan." Trystan stood and reached his arm out towards the blonde man, they grasped each other's forearms, gave thanks, and sat back down.

A bald man with a short grey beard sat back in his chair, combing through his hair with his fingers. "The Muc have gotten more and more aggressive in their attacks lately. I am sorry to say that one of my border patrol squads have gone missing." He picked something out of his beard as he said this, rolling it between his fingers, he sighed and continued, "I think it is safe to say that something has happened to encourage them in these attacks. Hopefully Torian's son returns to us and reports on what that may be, but we cannot risk the chance of, and I am sorry to say this out loud, Torian's son not returning. I love Naoise, I would ask nothing more than for the Goddess Danu to bring him back to us. My daughter has become quite smitten with him, and I know that he has grown fond of her, but my only concern is my clan." Here the elder paused again, looking down at his grey robes he smoothed out a fold on his chest. "In the possible event that Naoise does not return, I am willing to be aligned with another clan through the marriage of my daughter."

Torian slammed a fist down onto the table at this suggestion. "Of course, my son shall return. I find your lack of faith disrespectful. Our kids have been friends since they were born and yet here you sit implying my son is not strong enough to return. Better yet, you would pawn your daughter off onto another clan for the sake of a possibility. He is one of the strongest magic users in all our clans! You know this well, Sherrod."

"I know nothing. Your son has not returned, that is what I know now."

"Naoise would scoff at how little your faith in him has become and your daughter would do the same."

"Faith or no faith, my daughter and my people must be protected through whatever means necessary." Both men glared at each other as everyone around the table shifted uncomfortably.

Finally, a man with waist length silver hair and a long nose broke the silent glares. His blue eyes flashed as he looked at Sherrod. "I will offer military aid in exchange for an engagement between my son and your daughter, should one return and not the other."

"I find it hard to imagine your son returning and not mine," scoffed Torian.

"My son is just as capable as yours."

"He is brave, but he is a healer, not a warrior. His magic has limitations in the ways of fighting."

"Limitations?" Barked Nigel. "The only thing limited is your ability to understand that your son is not a gift of the Gods, Torian." At these words, both men stood up. Everyone else around the table followed suit. Muffled yelling could now be heard outside of the room, and the leaders turned to look at the doorway as the door swung open. A female wearing light blue robes and breathing heavily entered.

"Tasoiseach, chieftans." She bowed. "There has been a sighting along the Northern border of Chieftan Trystan's territory. Our warriors are returning, they're about two weeks out." She bowed again as she backed out of the room, closing the door.

"We can settle this later then." Torian said. The members nodded in agreement and walked out in pairs; their voices low as they exited the room. Nigel and Sherrod left together first, muttering in hushed tones. Torian sat back down at the now empty round table. With everyone gone, he allowed tears to form in his eyes. On his left, middle finger was a gold ring. He began to spin it around with his right hand, tracing the symbols etched on it as he did so. "Thank the Gods. Bring my son home."