Dunlad felt as if his efforts the past season had all been for naught. He had conducted a sacrifice to Luigibaid, eager to earn his blessing. And, indeed, Clan Aonghus had; but by what perverted design had it come to pass that, even with the gods' favor, their lands had been overrun by flooding? From whence did this deluge come? 

Not to mention that that crone Eliz had poisoned one of the only sweet wells that they had had available to them. With the suggestions that the other council members had made already, it was clear that they would require some form of assistance to achieve their ambitions. Redirecting water courses took manpower; and Dunlad only hoped, if the Council [i]did[/i] indeed acquiesce to Seòras' fool counsel, that it was not the old witch they sent to parley. 

After a pause in the deliberations, his fingers fingering his thick calfskin belt, Dunlad spoke his peace. 

"I'm in agreement with the Chief," he began, shivering in the damp chill of the hall even with the fire crackling in the hearth, "Redirecting the water and constructing a basin would give us an ample water supply; furthermore, the construction of a dike along the water's edge would grant us the advantage of altitude, as well as protection from future floodwaters." 

"However," he continued, eyeing Seòras critically, "I believe that redirecting the river's course towards the Gearlati would only deprive us of much needed water, while being costly to boot. Further, you need not be Mardoc to know that the Gearlati lands are hill country. No river can climb uphill, now can it? The Gearlit are cloistered folk too, and don't much care to come down from their mountain halls; that stretch o' plain there'd be far too open for their like, I think." 

"We'd best focus our effort on our own ilk, not for some crafty miners who can scarce till a field of wheat without digging too deeply. They're well-watered enough as it stands, with those fresh mountain springs, while we sit here up to our eyelids." 

[hr] 

Dunlad petitions the aid of the Council in leading a diplomatic expedition to Clan Andal. Being a devout of Luigibaid, Dunlad forwards that he is the best candidate for the job; and, furthermore, should the recent floods ruin the year's crop, Clan Aonghus could ask for relief from Andal's ample larders. Dunlad is interested in how Andal has been able to produce so much with such insalubrious and infertile fields, and suspects that the knowledge he gleans there might assist in the efforts to stymie the flooding (thinking that the Clan has dabbled in certain irrigation techniques that Aonghus might employ as well). 

"I need an escort, needless to say; a few good gallocmen should be enough, I think, and a well-intentioned gift to slick them up. They're simple folk, I surmise, but fierce, and they'd be fiercer friends still if we offer a favor." 

"And," he added, in acerbic tones, "[i]I'll[/i] be sure not to give insult."