A Thistle in the Heather - Clan Circinn Megacampaign (Charlemagne)

"My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die."​

Urguist MacCircinn, son of Alba

Six years ago my father died, slain by Cinriod MacUib in his war to steal the Throne of Scone. In the aftermath my brothers and I were forced to acknowledge his claim to the throne, but we have never forgotten what is ours by right - or the vengeance that is due my father's shade. Most of the clans of Pictland are ancient, descended from our mutual forefather Cruithne, but the Uib were an exception. Born from the chaos of the Dalriadan invasions that destroyed Fortrenn's line, the Uib were the largest remaining family and slowly came to dominate the regions on the northern coast of the Firth of Forth. Through the machinations of the first Cinriod, the MacUib came to control twice the land of any other clan, yet at the cost of confirming the distrust all of the old dynasties held for them.

The greater manpower proved decisive in 733 when the second Cinriod MacUib led his men directly against the Circinn. My father scarce had time to call for help 'ere he and his men were overwhelmed at Dun Celadon. The war was over before my brothers and I returned from the other clans, let alone were able to actually bring up any of their men. Anger burned in our hearts as we were forced to swear allegiance to our father's killer and I knew for a fact that my brothers meant it as much as I did - as indeed had the MacUib when he knelt to my father. He may be King, yet seven clans and a bishopric owed vassalage to Circinn and only afterwards to the MacUib king; the ties of heritage were not so easily sundered. In the years that followed I traveled among the clans to take their tenor and gauge how ready they were to see our kingdom restored.


A brave young warrior who came to fight alongside me

I became engaged to a young lass from Saxon Mercia in 769. It would be many years before we could be wed and secure my freedom to act against the Northumbrians that lay between our lands, but in the meantime a man had his hungers and I sent to the Kingdom of Strathclyde for one of the young maidens of their court; Ffelis, a lusty wench who was entirely content with what rewards I gave her without aspiring to replacing my betrothed or to ruling over my household. As I had two young lads already from a previous marriage, we set into a kind of merry domesticity with none to please but each other. We spend the last of winter in the warmth of my home - a slightly larger house than most, yet none too grand or haughty enough to separate me from my clansmen. When the snow lifted from the mountaintops and the heather bloomed once more, I would call the highland clans to stand with me against the usurper.

The MacUib struck first; he had heard of my visits to each of the clan chiefs and came to my home at the head of his sworn men one day in early spring before the thaw. He threatened at first to expose my sinful lusts to all the good folk of Alba unless I swore my loyalty. I laughed at him, sweet Ffelis by my side, and tell him that a man's lusts are naught to be afraid of; we are not yet the dandified southerners with their ascetic ways. We honour the Christ and he accepts us, as men. He threatened me directly then, with his men surrounding my home; unless I swore not to threaten him from his throne, I would not survive to regret it. Grudgingly I agreed, yet inwardly I smiled. Let the false king hide behind his paper shield! On 19 March my Chaplain's fiery speech drew a great band of young warriors to fight alongside the Circinn banner and I decided the time had come to call the clans. I would not threaten the usurper to persuade him to doff the crown he stole; I would simply remove the head on which it rested.


The Clans will yet answer my call to arms

I considered waiting for the other clans to join me before I marched, but decided instead to lead from the front as befit a future King and warleader. We marched south rapidly with brave songs in our hearts and equal numbers to those the MacUib could command, yet in the twisted valleys and high mountain ridges we somehow missed one another and soon we took his ruling seat of Filb under siege. We received many words of support from the King of Strathcylde, who saw all too clearly the way the struggle would turn and wanted to be sure he didn't provoke a powerful lord on his border who may have felt he had something to prove. More tangibly the Fortriu, Fotla and Fidach clans marched to join me, whilst those of Cait and Ce also mustered, albeit only in defense of their homes. With our numbers raised beyond a thousand we were able to swiftly reduce the MacUib walled village then march north to meet the usurper's host deep in Circinn lands at Dun Celadon.

Cynriod knew this ground well; it was here that he had defeated and slain my father bare years before. Yet this time it was we who held the hammer hand and we knew this ground far the better for it was our home. While I led my host against his formed line in the narrow mouth of the vale a new arrival he knew not of was about to play a decisive role; Chief Broichan of Ce stole around the enemy left with a hundred warriors, threading his way between the snake paths on the heights until they could charge down with a roar. The MacUib clansmen recoiled, and though they reformed swiftly the damage was done; loyal clansmen surged around their open flank as we swept them deeper into the vale where we could use our numbers to greater effect and in a long running fight I drove them clear down the vale until they no longer attempted to rally. There certainly were MacUib holdouts that remained in the southern lands but in the absence of an army able to challenge mine, armed resistance was all but over.


The War of Restoration is over and I sit the throne of my father

The young warriors who came to fight alongside me left soon after Dun Celadon, of course. They had made their names and reputations in that fight and left with their pouches filled with the loot of the fallen foe and their heads with my thanks for their support. As the snows returned to the mountaintop at the close of the year I sat outside of Pinbed with six clans at my back. The last Clan Uib men were cowering across the border in Northumbria, having sold themselves to the Sais. I was content to leave them there; if they were too craven to defend their homes and families then they were no longer any concern of mine. The war was over in name as well as fact by the end of January, Cinriod kneeling at my feet while I regarded him with a sardonic smile. I had not yet managed to meet him individually in battle, but I was sure I would get an opportunity to kill the man yet. For now his humiliation would have to be enough.

In token of our great victory I began the construction of an Earthen Hillfort at Dun Celadon. I was mindful of the ease with which Cinriod had brought his sworn men to my home, and was not minded to allow him to usurp my throne as easily as he had my father's. Though the MacUib were fiercely pruned back, they would soon recover and once more be the most powerful single clan in Alba. I really ought to do something about that, and as I oversaw the construction work an idea came to me that might work both to bolster Clan Circinn's power and its standing in the eyes of the other clans. To the west lay Dal Riada; the long lost home of Clan Fortrenn. If I could evict the Irish at last and set them packing back to their true homes over the sea then would the MacUib dare challenge me again? I thought not.


I am Urguist MacCircinn, rightful King of Alba​

"Cha tuit a h-uile rud air an tig crathadh."

"Not everything that is shaken will fall."​

My growing legend brings more brave warriors to my banner

Following the MacCircinn Restoration a year of peace and prosperity fell across Pictland. Clansmen put down their spear and shield and took up the plough instead. For the first time in a decade the clans were producing a great surfeit of food, and after we refilled our storehouses we began to look for traders outside our borders. Strathclyde and Northumbria became our most lucrative partners, while Dalriada turned back our trading representatives with cold rejection and accusations of espionage. Not altogether unfair accusations, of course; the Scoti of the western coast had been our nemeses for centuries now. I had been entirely open about my intentions toward these invaders of Pictland as well, and with this blatant rejection of our proposed peaceful ties publicly bruited about the clans another body of restless young men left their farms and mustered at my growing hillfort at Dun Celadon. It was September then, and I spoke with my council about the options ahead of us. Did we have time to prosecute a war against the Blackshields before the snows came?

I thought likely not - and this far north fighting a war in the high mountain valleys in the dead of winter would be several kinds of miserable. The youngbloods wouldn't stay with us forever, but I determined that they should be hosted and feasted throughout the winter as we patiently bided our time. In the early winter my brother Telurg approached me for my aid in finding him a prestigious young bride. He had championed my cause all the way through the war of restoration and was one of my most vocal supporters now so I readily agreed and managed to betrothe him to Gisela, the daughter of King Karl of West Francia. As the snows settled in construction of my hillfort came to a halt, the ground becoming hard as a rock. Castantin map Urguist, my eldest, was also betrothed to a Frankish lass of good family.


The snows melt; into Dal Riata!

It was late March before the snows thawed in the Vale of Uuanun and the way was opened to march on Dal Riata. I called up the clans and led the MacCircinn and the young warriors personally loyal to me into Ainer Goidel. Clan Fortriu intercepted the Irish trying to flee across the narrow straits into their islands, while my larger host took the Dalriadan village by storm. The Eiran Bishopric of Naomh Molluc put up a stronger defense than the semi-fortified village, and I was struck by the unworldly architecture, the high arches and steeple reaching up to God as a giant among lesser earthly pygmies. The last Irish holdouts in the region were defeated in mid-October and the war was over before the snows fell. Clan Circinn's lands were doubled, placing us on an even footing with the Uib.

Over the winter my clansmen and I became aware of a civil war to the south, where the Angle Lord of Lothian was revolting against his King. They were put down swiftly and brutally by the Northumbrian army, who began to siege the local fortified village. In the New Year I led four hundred and sixty men raiding across the border into the remnant of Dal Riata - or at least that was my intent. We were met there by members of the Irish clergy who informed us that the Church frowns on Christians raiding other Christians; as good Catholics themselves, none of my clansmen felt able to go against the Church's ruling. As all the British Isles were true servants of Christ and we lacked any boats capable of taking my followers over the oceans in any kind of strength, this meant an end to our traditional raiding way of life. As we retained our friendly ties with Strathclyde, we looked instead to the south... and Lothian.


Seizing the opportunity of the Lothian revolt

I decided to take matters into my own hands and - rather than waiting for the clans to come down from the highlands once more - I raised a tribal army with the twin promises of food and glory and led it down into the lowlands. We met sixteen hundred Sais with near thirty four hundred brave Pictish warriors and surprised them in their siege-lines. Together they might have outmatched us, but fighting us in two separate halves the armies of Northumbria were no match for the Picts and our growing reputation. My growing reputation, in point of fact; with the Northumbrian host shattered and the holdings in Lothian stormed, the annual Pictish war was over in July - and only just in time.

Chief Garant of Fidach was attempting to forge a claim on the High Chiefdom of Fortriu, the title that gave me the authority to call up the clans in the north of Alba when the situation required it. I sent a leading member of my clan to demand that he cease his treason, but the MacUuidoch arrogantly refused. I was not known for my kindness, nor for my foolishness; I sent a party of men to imprison him. Though he was of a clan other than my own, I knew what responsibilities he owes to the crown. He could leave his cell when he abandons his attempts to undermine my authority - or at least that was the theory. Unfortunately he somehow got wind of his fate and when my men arrived the fortified village was sealed against them. The MacUuidoch was in open revolt!


The Fidach Rising

In a bid to put an end to this revolt before the snows returned, my armies sped north as soon as the passes reopened. The core of the Fidach Rising was to be found north of Fortriu and though the rebels slipped away to the north we finally managed to bring them to battle at Dirnfeth in October, while the heather still bloomed on the heights. There many a proud highlander fell into the soft purple, among them Bishop Bridei of Fosan Mairch. We lacked the numbers to assault the walled village of Fidach with any surety of success, and though the Rebel Chief attempted to sway us with promises of renewed allegiance and a white peace he had forgotten the first principle of loyalty among the Clans; that it goes both ways. If my MacCircinn cousins and kindred were willing to fight and die for my honour and rights, I could hardly throw away their blood and sacrifice for temporary convenience. There must be consequences for his treason.

The snows began to fall and though it became bitterly cold in the high country we refused to abandon our siege of Fidach. As the rebel clansmen watched from their walls we began logging in the nearby forests. Great bonfires began to blaze in a ring around the village both day and night, hot enough not only to keep my clansmen warm but to keep the area immediately around them snow-free. Even in the harshest winter storm, no sooner did a drift settle onto the ground than it would melt and run off the plateau. Those blazing fires stood as clear beacons of our resolve and all through the winter they served to sap the MacUuidoch resolve. It was also in that time that Gisela Karling arrived in frozen Pictland to wed my brother - though she seemed less than enamored of Telurg's low wattle-and-daub hall. Her brother Karl was now the leader of all the Franks and he called on us to fight against the heathen Saxons. Despite already being at war we were scarce likely to refuse a call to arms... despite the minor detail that we had no ships capable of bringing us there - or wealth enough to permit us to hire mercenaries. At last in the early spring Rosanmairch fell, and we took Garant MacUuidoch into custody and forced him to bend the knee.


The Ce Rising

Peace, or even the semblance of it we had in Pictland, was not to last for long. To my abiding shock the MacCe rose in May of the next year for my brother's claim to the throne. My own brother! Furious, I strode to his hall with my sword bright in my hand but Telurg and Gisela were nowhere to be found. I call up my old allies among the clans and direct that the MacCircinn expatriates in Lothian and southern Dal Riata join me as soon as they may. Meanwhile I led the core clansmen rapidly towards the enemy strongpoints, only to reverse course when I heard dire news from my forward scouts. A tinker with strong ties to my clan had come from the Ce village, reporting that large bands of honourless men had come to fight for Telurg's claim to my crown; less out of misguided loyalty than for his promises of lavish reward for every man who fought for him, once he came into his so-called inheritance. With so many men under the traitor's banner, Breichan MacCe led his great host toward his old stomping ground at Dun Celadon.

Civil war was the worst kind of war. My friend, my brother, my comrades in arms... now they were traitors of the worst sort. We knew how one another fought, and since we had all fought against the MacUib on the same ground a few years before it was with some trepidation that I chose to repeat history - or not. Once again Clan Circinn would fight on our home ground and though the numbers seemed unfortunately uneven, I led a rock-hard core of my most trusted companions in arms square through the unsteady center of the traitorous army and tore it in twain while Breichan's flanks were trying to drive back mine. Even then we were outnumbered but the enemy morale was broken and our pursuit was relentless. With our tributary clansmen approaching we resumed our march on Ce village while Breichan and Telurg fled over the border into Northumbria and cowered among the Sais. That was when the Romans came to Alba.


Beware of Romans bearing gifts...

The first time the Romans came to Pictland they came armed and armoured and though they won their battles in the end they lost their war and fled southwards. The second time they offered gold and 'civilization', and when we were foolish enough to welcome them as harmless they corrupted and suborned the lowland Picts into their vassals, founding settlements at Traprain Law and other sites between their two great walls. The third time they came in their rich vestments and offered us rich chests full of gold and high praise for our role in the ongoing fight against the unbeliever. Now, they had to know as well as we did that we had yet to actually face an infidel - let alone wage war against them. We had imprisoned a Fraticelli heretic, but two hundred gold for that service seemed... excessive. We didn't turn down the gold of course - the Picts are scarce fools - but we promised the cleric nothing and watched him warily until he left. Were they trying to bribe us to fight the heretic? Whatever they thought they were playing it, once they left I used the gold to construct a new trading market on the shores of the Firth of Forth in a bid to draw merchants from all across the northern seas.

While I was distracted by the Roman emissary, Ffelis received the blessing of the Mother; she was with child. But when I consulted the wise woman it seemed that she must have lain with the father at a time when I was already besieging the Ce village. Who had she betrayed my trust with? I spoke to a number of my trusted men who had remained behind at Dun Celadon, only to discover the villain's identity; Castantin map Urguist, my eldest son. Well that was entirely different! The lad paled when I told him that I knew, and nearly swayed with relief when I slapped him on the shoulder with pride. He took after me, and if he was man enough to seduce my concubine away from her loyalty even under peril of painful death then he was man enough not to be castigated for pursuing his urges. I sent word that Ffelis was to be cast out of my chambers and conveyed to his, for so long as he wished to keep her.

My younger son was craven and I ridiculed him for it; dubbing him Unuist Shadowscared. I told him daily that he should be more like his lusty older brother Castantin and finally resolved to raise him myself. He would lose his fear, even if it killed him. A band of loyal veterans also came to fight for me, and with the siege of Ce village under control I dispatched them to hunt down the last rebel bands down in Dunbar where they were being supported by the Sais. Since my war with the Northumbrians and the rebels in Lut there had been some ongoing tension with my southern neighbor, and the chance to have men loyal to me cross the border in pursuit of my enemies while I could honestly argue that my army and I were leagues away and otherwise occupied. The Ce rebels were defeated handily and my veterans returned back across the border before the Northumbrians could even respond. At last my own army succeeded in storming the Ce village and took Breichan and Telurg into chains at Dun Celadon. I would hold this land and these clans together, whatever it cost me.

Still more whatever it might cost those who dared stand against me.


My growing legend brings more brave warriors to my banner​