‘Within ten days,’ said Maccus, ‘we could field fifteen thousand fighting men.’
‘Yes we could,’ said Braefar, ‘but supplying them is a different matter. Our granaries are full, but the number of wagons needed to haul grain for fifteen thousand men on a march through Pannone territory would be colossal. We could not gather those in time. We do not even know where the Vars have landed. They could be a hundred miles to the north.’
‘Something about all of this does not sit right with me,’ said Govannan. ‘I agree with Conn that this is an invading force, and must be countered. But why invade Pannone lands? There is little gold there, and precious few granaries. While we have the new mines, and a huge surplus of food. We are the natural targets for any invasion, and we already know that King Shard hates Conn and has sworn to have his head. It makes no sense for him to sail his ships a hundred miles north and attack a poorer neighbour.’
Braefar shook his head. ‘Not necessarily. If, as Conn believes, they are here to gain a foothold they can ship in many more men, then launch a full war against us in the spring. They could hit us on two fronts – a marching army from the north and a second invasion at Seven Willows.’
‘There is a third alternative,’ said Maccus. The Pannones are our enemies. The Highland Laird has made that clear. They do not, however, have the strength to attack us. Make no mistake, however. There is great hatred for us among the Pannone. Let us suppose, just for a moment, that the Highland Laird is not facing an invasion, but has invited Shard to join him in a war against us. If that is the reality then we will face ten thousand battle-hardened Vars, and twelve thousand Pannone warriors.’
There was sudden silence around the table as each man let the terrible prospect sink in. Finally Conn spoke, and his voice was full of regret. ‘I hope you are wrong, Maccus. But if you are right then the fault is mine – for it was my revenge that gave birth to this hatred. I have tried to make amends, but some deeds cannot be washed away with gold.’
Fiallach swore. ‘Och, man, you did what any warrior would do. For myself when I heard they had killed Tae I would have wiped out every Pannone on the face of the earth. What I want to know is how we decide which course of action to take?’
Conn was silent for a moment. Then he glanced at Maccus. ‘Send out riders to gather the army. Make sure they understand the need is urgent. We will not march into Pannone territory immediately. But we will prepare. If the Pannones are indeed victims we will move swiftly to their aid. If they are not we will be ready to defend our own lands.’ He turned to Fiallach. ‘You, my friend, will gather the Iron Wolves and, if battle comes, you will command them.’
‘Where will you be?’ asked Fiallach.
‘I’ll fight on foot with the main body of the army. It is many years since the Rigante faced a battle, and the experience will be new to the younger men. I will stand with them, with fifty Wolves. The rest will ride with you.’
‘You honour me,’ said Fiallach, his eyes shining with pride. ‘I will not let you down.’
Conn switched his gaze to Braefar. ‘Wing, I will need you to co-ordinate supplies. We may have to hold the army together for some weeks while the situation develops. We cannot afford to fall short of food.’
‘What do you require of me, Conn?’ asked Maccus.
‘If battle comes you will take command of the Horse Archers. Until then organize scouts to ride into Pannone territory to gather as much information as they can. The earlier we know the truth, the better prepared we will be.’
Within three days the first Rigante warriors began to arrive at Old Oaks. By the fifth day more than six thousand men had gathered. Thankfully, the weather was still mild, for the warriors were forced to sleep, at first, in the open. Braefar had the foresight to order timbers hauled in from the high lands and hasty shelters were erected. Conn met clan leaders and minor chieftains throughout each day and long into the night.