Caoimhe felt the familiar surge of dizziness and disorientation as the transport circle brought her home. She hated travelling this way, but at least it was better than risking herself on those leaky ships like the Captains did. How they ever returned alive was a constant surprise to her. ‘One thing’s for sure’ she thought as she settled her bag more comfortably on her back, ‘you’ll never catch me on one of those things’. She nodded in greeting to the guard who stood by the circle and set out towards her home. She was looking forward to seeing Fiach again. Things were more interesting at home since her six-year-old son had moved back to her house. During the Caleb wars, Fiach had lived with his uncle Seamus who was unable to fight since a Caleb soldier had deprived him of the use of his left arm. Seamus now lived out by the farms and worked with the animals. A good place for a child to grow up, but now Caoimhe wanted him near her so he could learn the art of war. Caoimhe had always had the suspicion that Seamus was not teaching Fiach as well as she would have liked. He seemed to place more emphasis on peace and being a good citizen that was strictly necessary. Ah well, Fiach was a good boy, and now she had him near her, she would turn him into a fine man.
Fiach and Seamus were sitting by the fire when Caoimhe arrived at the house. Both stood when she entered and Fiach came across the room to greet her. As she hugged her son awkwardly, she noticed that Seamus seemed to be holding back. He shook his head in answer to her querying look and indicated that he would speak to her later.
That evening after Fiach had gone to bed, Seamus sat by the fire with Caoimhe and told her about the trouble in school when Fiach had refused to fight at one of the training exercises. Caoimhe was stunned.
‘You mean he and Báthín just put down their swords and handed the flags over! Why? What were they trying to prove? How could they…’
Running out of words, Caoimhe rose from her seat and began pacing up and down the room.
‘Calm down. They’re just children Caoimhe. Things have changed round here lately, that’s got to have had an effect on them’
‘Things may have changed, but they haven’t changed that much Seamus. He’s my son! He was brought up to be a warrior wasn’t he?’
Caoimhe stopped pacing and rounded on her brother.
‘Or was he. You had him for most of his childhood. Were you really teaching him how to be a true man? You were relieved not to have to fight anymore. Did you pass that on to Fiach too? Did you teach him to be a warrior, or to be like your friend Cosaint? A Pacifist!’ She almost spat the word out as if it left a nasty taste in her mouth.
Seamus was now standing too. ‘And if he does learn to live in a peaceful world, what harm will that do him? Will it be so bad if he never has to fight for his life like we did? Will it be a tragedy if he lives to grow up and have a family of his own without the treat of leaving them orphaned? Are you really so eager to have him meet his father that you want him to die young?’
‘It’s talk like that that will kill him young’ cried Caoimhe. ‘People like you and Cosaint who want to let our children die because they can’t defend themselves. You and Cosaint…’
‘I can’t talk to you like this Caoimhe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow’ Seamus kissed his sisters cheek as he left the house. She did not respond.
After Seamus had left, Caoimhe went quietly into the bedroom to check on Fiach.
‘Mr Cosaint and Uncle Seamus had nothing to do with it’ said a small voice in the darkness. ‘We just don’t want to fight. It’s too scary’
‘You heard us then?’ Caoimhe sat down at the edge of her son’s bed. ‘Why did you do it? Why wouldn’t you fight?’
‘I just don’t like it. I hate fighting. It hurts when the bigger kids hit me, and I don’t think I’m any good at it. Why can’t I work on the farms like Uncle Seamus instead?’
Sighing, Caoimhe went through the old familiar tale of how Armengar was besieged for so many years by the Calebi who seemed to have no other purpose in life but to slaughter the people in the citadel. She spoke of the many who died in the defence of those walls, and those who were maimed in the same cause. While she spoke Fiach looked at a scar on his mothers arm and asked her how she had got it.
‘I let my attention wander. I wasn’t watching what that b…., what the Caleb soldier was doing. Never lose your focus in battle. That’s how you lose. That’s when the other kids hit you. Keep your focus at school and it won’t happen any more’
‘It’s not going to happen any more anyway. I won’t fight them’ muttered Fiach mutinously. ‘I won’t do the practice battles. I’m not going to fight.’
‘You will fight young man’ Caoimhe’s voice had a bite of anger behind it. ‘You will learn how to defend yourself like a man or you will take the punishment. Now I won’t hear any more of this!’
Fiach jumped up from the bed. ‘I won’t fight, I won’t. You can’t make me’ He ran to the door of the room and slammed it behind him. Caoimhe sat on the bed for a moment before getting up and going into the main room.
‘And what exactly do you plan to do instead? Be a farmer?’
There was no reply. The room was empty.
‘Fiach? Fiach! Where are you?’
She ran to the door just in time to see a small figure disappear from sight around a corner. Running after him, she caught a last glimpse of him as he ran through the gates of the citadel and out into the darkness.
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