Excerpt: The Road to Lethendy

Seumas was cleaning his workspace when Brother Caelan came to him. The priest was agitated.
“Seumas.” Brother Caelan sat down at the table. “I spoke this morning to Alec Giolla, the merchant lad from Lethendy. He promised a fine donation to the parish.”
“As well he should,” Seumas cleaned up bits of sinew left over from the sewing and put away his needle. The glue he set on a shelf where it would not spill – it was still warm but would harden when cooled.
“Considering his good fortune,” Seumas continued. “He remains unscathed while others…” He paused, “are not.”
“He’s a merchant, and they have their ways.” Brother Caelan’s voice carried a warning but he leaned in towards Seumas intently. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Me?” Seumas asked. “Whatever for?”
“Your father despises him and your brothers won’t hear him.” Brother Caelan was blunt.
“Because of the targe.” Seumas stated.
“Yes.” Brother Caelan confirmed. “They believe it cowardice.”
Seumas shrugged. “The Noregr honored it. Though my father was right; Alec would make a fine thrall.”
“Indeed.” Brother Caelan tapped the table with his forefinger. “I think you should listen to the lad, but remember he’s most concerned with his own interests.”
Seumas raised an eyebrow. “Where is he?”
“Waiting outside the chapel.” Brother Caelan stood. “He wishes to make an offering in thankfulness for his deliverance and to pray for the return of the hostages. Coincidently, you are here in the library.”
Brother Caelan slipped out the door into the chapel. A moment later, Seumas heard voices murmuring in the nave and recognized the White Lord’s Prayer of Grace. After the voices reached ‘Amen’, the door opened and Brother Caelan led Alec Giolla into the library.
“Lord Donoghue.” Alec said eagerly and bowed.
“I’m no lord.” Seumas corrected him.
Clean and rested, Alec was a handsome fellow, freckled and merry eyed with a firm mouth and smooth skin and hair as bright as new copper.
Seumas took a liking to the lad and was glad to be seated at the wide table. The dark oak hid his crippled legs. His arms and shoulders were strong and from his seat, he looked hale as his brothers.
“Forgive me, sir. Seumas, then?” Alec corrected himself smoothly.
“How may I be of service?” Seumas asked.
“If I may have your ear, sir.” Alec waited for Seumas to nod and then removed a folded parchment from inside his vest. He laid it on the table and smoothed the edges. Seumas leaned forward – it was a map of the highlands from Tolquhon to Lethendy. The map was worn, but clean and well detailed. Seumas followed the shore of Loch Drumtochty to Neidpath, and then found the trail that wound through the mountains from Neidpath to Lethendy.
“’Tis a fine map.” Seumas commented. He loved maps and had reproduced a fair number of them.
“I bought it this morning from your village headman.” Alec told him. “Though I might have no need of it. I’m to accompany your brother Ewan to Lethendy. We were to leave err noon, but he was delayed. He swears no need of a map and to know each stone and stump on the trail, though I am not so certain. I have never taken this trail, though I’ve heard it rife with bandits and beasts, and fit only for the most sturdy mountain ponies.”
“You’ll take a barge to Neidpath and be safe enough,” Seumas said, “and from Neidpath ‘tis only fifteen leagues to Lethendy.”
“Sixteen.” Alec corrected him firmly, and then smiled. “It’s sixteen leagues, my lord, which is a day’s ride on a fast horse or two days by a strong man on foot.”
“Then you should encounter no problems.” Seumas wondered what the merchant lad wanted from him.
Alec shook his head and his mouth hardened. “There’s much this map doesn’t show. There’s a river, and several streams that wash out in heavy rain. The trail rises sharply here,” Alec pointed to the area right above the loch, “but the elevation isn’t reflected in the map.”
“Yet you have never traveled this course?” Seumas asked, “and you have so much knowledge.”
“Trade routes are my concern and I listed to talk of them.” Alec insisted. “I know of at least two settlements along this one - neither lay on the map, and both are hostile, though one can be bribed.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Seumas asked.
“Lord Seumas,” Alec began and leaned on the table, “this path to Lethendy is narrow and rutted and washed out. Best ‘twere it fit for wagons and safe for travelers.”
“I thought you were an owner of ships?” Seumas asked, though he saw the wisdom of Alec’s suggestion.
“My ship is lost, and my father will not be pleased.” Alec said, his brown eyes sober. “The Noregrs have made travel by sea perilous, and if not for them, the Black Dughalls haunt the straights attacking honest traders. Even if the barbarians and pirates were all swept away, we’ve also lost ships and cargo on the rocks or in storms. It’s a chancy thing, sending a ship to sea.” Alec paused, and then made his plea.
“Could I have sent a convoy of wagons a mere sixteen leagues through the highlands to a barge on the loch, your brother and his wife would be safe at home and I’d have made a smart profit.”
“Your point is a good one, yet I fail to see how I can help.” Seumas said reluctantly. He was unwilling to end this conversation – he had never before been approached for assistance or ideas.
“Your father and brothers…” Alec sighed. “They want revenge. They may even loot the Noregr capitol and succeed in clearing the straights of marauders… for a season. But the cost will be high and the profit might be low. In my family, we are trained from birth to weigh carefully such ventures.”
“So you think the barbarians should go unpunished?” Seumas asked.
“No.” Alec said thoughtfully. “But that is a matter for noblemen and warriors. I am neither.” He looked at Seumas sharply. “But if I can build a road through the highlands, my father may forgive the loss of my ship. Your father might see a profit in a good, sturdy road sooner than he will see the return of his sons and soldiers.”
“You want me to speak to my father and ask him to finance a road?” Seumas asked the merchant. Clearly Alec knew nothing of him nor of Baron Donoghue. Seumas had never in his life spoken alone to his father, and his father had never granted him any request. Not that Seumas asked – Seumas had learned better than to ask for anything.
“Yes.” Alec said then shook his head. “No. I mean, I need an initial outlay for supplies and labor, but I will finance the road.”
“You have no money save what you hid on your person.” Seumas guessed shrewdly.
“True.” Alec admitted. “The Noregrs took everything save what was sewn into my clothing. But I have funds in Lethendy. Should the road be built, I can pay the workers and reimburse for supplies.”
“A true road is mighty expensive.” Brother Caelan commented. He was standing in the doorway, behind the merchant and he stepped up to the table to admire the map and trace the distance from Lethendy to Neidpath.
“The road will cost less than the loss of my ship.” Alec said. “And I’ll recover the cost when I send caravans from Lethendy to Invercauld. Besides, we need not pave the road or build bridges this summer. Only to dig a foundation and cut the wild-growth back so two wagons can pass abreast. Ruts will form, but when enough travelers pass on the road, Duke Loganaich will fund the paving next year when he realizes a profit from the trade.”
Seumas bit his lip. It was a brilliant plan. But he could not think of approaching his father.
Brother Caelan straightened and looked at the merchant. “Thank you, Alec Giolla. Lord Seumas will think on your proposal. He will call for you before you leave.”
Alec bowed deeply to both Seumas and Brother Caelan. “The thanks are mine, and I will await your word.”