Caledonia

I have just finished my unpublished historical/fantasy novel about Caledonia. I enjoyed mingling historical fact with fantastical fiction. It's ​AD 83 – 212, three generations of Caledonian chieftains contend with intertribal rivalries, Roman incursions and harsh climatic conditions. To safeguard the land, they must respect the old gods and follow the teachings of the druids. Lachlan follows in the footsteps of his father, Calgacus and becomes a hero in his own right, surpassed only by his son, Arawn. By obeying the gods and seeking the relics of power, he is able to expel the Romans from Caledonia forever with the aid of ancient magic and above all his courage and determination. Here is n extract from chapter 10 when Lachlan meets the Celtic Moon Goddess.

​After a couple of days, Lachlan decided to set off into the wilderness alone. He made the familiar cross-country hike to the Chief Druid’s cavern, where he explained what had happened to the village of Britons. “So, you see, Master, I can only obtain justice and revenge by moving astutely.”
“Lachlan, I see that you have put your years of learning here to good purpose. You operate with wisdom. It’s almost dusk, let’s stroll together to the sacred grove and under the oak branches, I’ll call upon the Moon Goddess. I feel sure she will answer your prayers. Tonight, the moon is full. You have come at a propitious time.”
Standing before the majestic oak, the Chief Druid put his hand on Lachlan’s head and pressed down gently, “Kneel, and pray!” Obediently, he silently called upon Arianrhod to come and hear his tale of sorrow. 
The night deepened, and a hush fell upon the sacred grove. The moon, round and full, cast a silvery glow over the ancient trees. Lachlan knelt before the towering oak, his heart heavy with desire for vengeance and justice. The air stirred softly as if the spirits of the forest were listening.
In a low voice, the Chief Druid began to chant in the old tongue, invoking the power of Arianrhod, the Moon Goddess. The words danced on the edge of hearing, carrying ancient magic that seemed to vibrate in the very air around them. Lachlan felt a shiver run down his spine as he closed his eyes and concentrated on his deepest desires.
As the chanting reached a crescendo, a beam of silvery light streamed down from the moon above, illuminating Lachlan in an ethereal glow. The air grew still, and a sense of otherworldly presence settled over the grove. Arianrhod had heard their plea, and she had a plan to avenge the lives lost and bring justice upon the Roman legionaries and their nefarious centurion.
The radiant features of her spectral form turned to Lachlan, “Beloved of the gods, consider this.” She snapped her long fingers and a shaggy green-furred hound, the size of a small cow appeared. The ferocious beast quailed under the goddesses’ stern gaze and sat on its haunches. “Your conquest of the Darkness, Lachlan, removed much evil from the land. It brought this hideous creature to me, since for some reason it spends much time howling at the moon. It is the Cù-sìth. Here we are not far from its home, for it usually lives in a cleft in the Highland rocks, whence it roams the moors. But I have it with me in thrall. I am minded to hand its magic leash to you, who can take it to do your will. This beast is capable of hunting silently, but will occasionally let out three terrifying barks, and only three, which can be heard for miles by those listening for it, even far out at sea. Those who hear the barking of the Cù-Sìth must reach safety by the third bark or be overcome with terror to the point of death. I think that you, King Lachlan, will know how best to use its horrid powers. But as ever, there is a price to pay. You will have to give the creature something to bind it into servitude.”
“But what, Goddess?”
“You must come to the right conclusion on your own,” the enigmatic pale features broke into an irresistible smile and the ethereal figure shimmered and vanished into its own moonlight.
As the sacred grove returned to silence, Lachlan stood with tumultuous thoughts whirling in his mind; he gazed at the Cù-sìth, a fearsome creature with a powerful magic of its own. He pondered over its abilities and the goddess’ words. A price to pay, but what could it be?
At that moment, Lachlan realized that the Cù-sìth's power would be tainted by his own weakness, his own human failings. He knew that if he were to truly harness the beast’s magic, he must give it something that represented the one thing that bound him to his humanity – his love for his people. He groped in his pocket. Aye, that was it! Had not Rowan’s father given him his most prized possession out of sheer love. The hideous creature eyed the two men, it’s maw slobbering, ready to throw back its head and bark before tearing them limb from limb, but Lachlan, pressing a restraining hand on the chief Druid’s chest, stepped forward boldly, striding straight towards the monster. Three paces from the confused beast, somewhat cowed by the man’s confidence, he stopped and taking a moonstone from his purse, laid it shining on the ground among the strewn oak leaves under the fascinated stare of the curious creature. 
The colour of the moon in the sky was a pale, silvery blue, with faint beams of light dancing around the edges. It pulsed and shifted, almost translucent in its beauty. As he placed the moonstone on the ground, it seemed to intensify, casting a hypnotic glow on everything around it in exactly the same way as the moon above.
The small, round stone shimmered, catching and reflecting the moonlight. As if mesmerized, the Cù-sìth stepped forwards, its eyes fixed on the stone, placed a huge paw on it and seemed to absorb some unseen power. Lachlan, with a final glance at the goddess’ hallowed grove, turned to the now compliant beast, took its chain, and began to lead it away, followed by the grinning ancient druid.
Occasionally on the journey to his hall, the Cù-sìth would stop, bow its head, then raise it to release a full-throated howl at the moon. Lachlan stared up at the shimmering disc in the sky and noted how the soft, ethereal silver that bathed the world in its gentle light reflected in the large brown eyes of the monstrous hound. Somehow it seemed to him that the whole night was bending to their will, as if the moon herself were guiding their steps towards their goal.
As they approached the village, Lachlan ordered the beast to sit and wait for his return. He came back with Kerwin and drew the cringing Briton close to the Cù-sìth. “Tell the hound the tale of what the Romans did to your village. Do not spare any detail, however painful to you. He will hear your tale of woe, Kerwin. Tell it in the ancient tongue of your people.”
The Briton slowly gained confidence as the great, shaggy green head tilted an ear towards him. As the tale unfolded, the Cù-sìth began a low angry growling that chilled the two Celts to the marrow, but Kerwin finished his account and, Lachlan stood, placed the chain in the Briton’s hand and said, “Lead him to the fortress my friend.” Then he addressed the great hound, bravely stroking its head, “Harken, Cù-sìth! Use your magic to bring terror to those who have wronged us and bring justice to our people!” Almost as if not wishing to waste a second, the hound loped off, straining at his leash. The beast appeared to know where he was directed so that Kerwin had only to hold onto the chain, knowing that he held the power of the moon goddess Arianrhod within his grasp.
 Arrived at the gate of the fortress, the hound let out a chilling bark, and the echo of its howl filled the night air. Lachlan shuddered as he heard the second bark, and then the third. Miraculously, the malevolent sound had no effect on the Briton. Suddenly, the Roman soldiers began to drop like flies, their eyes wide with terror as they frantically searched for the source of the sound. Lachlan knew that the Roman centurion would not have been able to resist the call of the Cù-sìth, and that he, too, would have been overcome by the horrific barks. The Roman soldiers, desperate to escape the howling beast, started running for their lives, some even abandoning their weapons and armour in their haste to flee. Some senselessly ran out of the main gate, heedlessly and confusedly towards the source of the howling.
The episode was over in a matter of minutes, with the Cù-sìth's howls echoing through the fortress and the surrounding area. Lachlan watched on as the Roman soldiers left their fortifications, their faces twisted in fear and despair. The centurion, however, was nowhere to be found. Both Celts knew that the Cù-sìth would continue to search for him until his mission was complete.
As the dust settled, Lachlan considered that his accord with Arianrhod had been paid in full. The Romans would never forget the terror of that night, and the Cù-sìth would be a constant reminder of the power and strength of the Celts. Lachlan led the Cù-sìth back to the sacred grove, where he bid farewell to the beast and, kneeling, thanked Arianrhod for her guidance. As the Cù-sìth disappeared into the darkness, Lachlan felt pride and satisfaction wash over him, knowing that he had become a true king, one whose people would be protected by both human and supernatural forces. Kerwin knelt before him and said, “Sire, I am only one man, but I swear fealty to you if you will accept me among your folks.”
Lachlan smiled and imagined a world without the Romans and their upstart gods in which all the people of the island vowed allegiance to him. He sighed, knowing that he should be satisfied and grateful for what he possessed in the knowledge that the moon goddess had taught him a lesson in the delicate balance of power and sacrifice. However, this was not the end. Lachlan felt responsibility for the creature, now bound to his will. He would have to ensure that the Cù-sìth did not wreak unnecessary chaos, and, in the process, he would have to keep the gods satisfied. A bond had been forged, one that Lachlan could neither ignore nor escape.