Prologue
Circa 565 A.D.
King Brude Son of Maelchon threw his cup of wine across the room with a yell. His servants scattered in fear of his temper. They were all aware that he held his position as king through threats, intimidation, and brutality. His ambition was second to none. But right now he had a problem.
His territory was vast. Bigger than any Pictish king before him. Less than a decade ago he’d defeated the Dalriadan Scots, making Dal Riata a vassal state. It was something no other king had managed to do. He had many reguluses, or sub-kings, throughout his realm, but keeping his kingdom united was proving more difficult. Of course, if anyone ever mentioned such disunity to his face, he would drive his sword through their heart.
Brude had recently been visited by a traveling missionary of a new sect, Christianity. He had found the new religion interesting, not because he was a believer in their savior, a man they called Jesus Christ, but because it differed from the main religion of the Picts in one very specific way. All around his realm, but especially near the coasts there were stone monuments to their god whom they called Eddarrnonn. The massive creature inhabited the seas, rivers, and lakes of Pictland. At night, it glowed so brightly you could barely look at it. By day, its scales shimmered so that it hurt your eyes to look too long at it.
The problem was the leaders of the sect of Eddarrnonn, specifically Emchath. He was a toisech, or potentate, of the estate next to the largest lake in his kingdom. He was the Keeper of the Beast. Emchath denounced Brude’s brutality, especially after the massacre of the Dalriadian Scots. He publicly spoke out against Brude, which was quickly causing dissension. Unfortunately, though, Brude couldn’t very well drive his sword through Emchath’s heart. The uproar would throw his kingdom into civil war, and probably lead to his assassination.
Christianity, however, could offer him the solution he’d been brooding about. With Christianity, one didn’t need a beast, creature, or physical animal to worship. Their god was an invisible one. It would be much easier, if he was able to get that Christian missionary, Columba, on his side, to make it appear that he had God’s backing in all he did. It could reunite his kingdom, and strike fear into the kingdoms of the south-the Britons, the Scots, perhaps even the Romans. But Emchath was respected throughout Brude’s kingdom.
Brude knew what he needed to do, but he couldn’t do it without Columba’s help. He turned toward the young man who stood in the shadows of the room, trying to be invisible. When the man didn’t respond, Brude reached over and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked and struggled against his master’s grip. Brude relaxed his hand slightly, and spoke to him.
“Send to Columba to meet me at my royal fortress at the mouth of the River,” he growled, his breath thick with alcohol. “Tell him that I wish baptism into Christianity. Make sure he comes.” With that Brude dropped his hand and the terrorized messenger scampered off without looking twice into his enraged master’s eyes. Brude then called for his most trusted warrior. The warrior approached without the fear the messenger had had. He had his King’s utmost respect, and he respected his King-respected his brutality and ability to rule over such a large kingdom.
“I need you to go to Emchath, the Keeper of the Beast. He’s a problem and needs to be dealt with.”
“I understand, my Lord,” his companion said.
“Offer the position of toisech to Virolec, his son, under one condition,” Brude continued. “That he accepts Christianity. Make him understand what refusal would mean.” The warrior smiled
sadistically. Again he replied:
“Yes, my Lord.”
The beast fled into the river that had it’s beginning at the sea. The water dragon led its entire colony towards the safety of the open water. It felt a great rumbling and the roar, amplified by the water, filled its eardrums. Just as it was about to reach freedom, it stopped as the opening to the sea was no longer there. The strange, two-legged creatures had destroyed their only way out.
There was only one thing it could do. It turned around in the water and led its colony back towards the large, land-locked lake. But there, the two-legged creatures were waiting. The slaughter that took place was so great that the great lake’s water turned crimson. The cold water dragged the carcasses of the water dragons to the bottom, where they decayed until there was no evidence they had ever existed.
The few that survived knew that if they were ever seen by the two-legged creatures again, it would mean their death. They became as elusive as the mists that frequented the lake’s surface, and their existence became the stuff of legends.
597 A.D.
Columba’s hand shook violently as he tried to write on the aged paper. He was dying, but his conscience could not allow him to die without confessing. Though Christianity was gradually being accepted by the Picts, it had come at the cost of much blood. Though he had not personally shed any, he had conspired with the Pictish King Brude. At the time, Columba had condoned it all for the sake of spreading Christianity.
But now, years later, he still grappled with his conscience. He doubted that he would receive his heavenly reward now, but perhaps confessing his involvement with Brude’s plan would be enough. He would instruct the monks to bury the confession with him. Centuries from now, perhaps, the truth may come out. Perhaps he could be forgiven.
On June 9, 597 A.D. St. Columba died and was buried inside his church in Iona.
814 A.D.
King Constantine knew what he had to do. Cellach, Abbot of Iona, had come to him wanting to move St. Columba’s remains because of the continuing raids of the Vikings. So they had done so, secretly and under cover of night. No one knew what they had done, only that they had discussed it. They had hidden Columba’s remains near the large lake that the Ness River drained into from the sea. Just as Columba had requested in his confession. A confession that no one had known even existed!
Constantine was upset that the same sect that had opposed Christianity centuries before still did so in his day. He was the greatest King of the Picts. More importantly, he was King of the Picts and Scots. But he knew he was facing the same problem King Brude had-that of unifying his kingdom. Perhaps Brude’s solution would also work for him. Only this time, Constantine would make sure Christianity won out over that sect of Eddarrnonn. And if they refused to convert, he’d make sure the Picts would cease to exist as a people.
Constantine sent out the order in that very hour. Every stone with the carving of Eddarrnonn was to be destroyed. If that wasn’t enough, he would order all Pictish symbol stones destroyed. Nothing would stop Christianity from uniting his kingdom, even if it meant destroying the Picts all together!
Little did he realize just how thoroughly his plan would work. Centuries later the Picts would be considered little more than myth. Millennia later, as the 21st century dawned and Constantine was long dead, the history of the Picts would continue to sport more mystery than facts, more questions than answers.
Circa 1509 A.D.
John Grant, also called the Red Bard, was doing just as he had been ordered by King James IV. He was repairing Urquhart Castle and adding a tower on the north side. In so doing, he ordered the burying of the existing basement.
It was no accident that John Grant had been given Urquhart Castle. He had made sure it would come to him, because he had a mission. During the night, after the workers had gone, he went down into the basement that would soon be buried. He knelt next to the huge stone with the Pictish symbol of Eddarrnonn. With great effort, he lifted the perfectly rectangular stone and turned it over, so the symbol would no longer be visible. Then he used some of the dirt that was going to bury the basement to seal in the cracks between the floor and the stone. Building the tower on top of it, would complete his plan.
The religious sect of Eddarrnonn was long gone, destroyed by King Constantine, but a remnant of people had vowed that the massacre of the Innocent Ones would never be repeated. They were elusive anyway, and the proof of their existence slim, especially after King Constantine had ordered the effacement of the sacred stones. By his burying the basement, and what lied beneath it, along with the symbol of Eddarrnonn, it would be easy for the Innocent Ones to vanish into history.
John Grant could not know how thoroughly his plan would work. He couldn’t have known that by the 21st century, the existence of the Innocent Ones would only be in myth and legend.
