Dawn was fast approaching as Macc and Kathvar sat by the banks of the River Boyne drinking mead. The druid had washed the blood from his beard and robes in the river. Despite a need for haste, he’d agreed to give the warrior an explanation. Typically, Kathvar would not accede to demands from fighters, but this time, he could see the benefit. The Elder Council couldn’t do it alone.
We need this warrior, however uncouth he might be.
It was apparent that his earlier flattery hadn’t convinced Macc. He was determined not to allow Kathvar to leave without first explaining why he was in the roundhouse with a bloodied knife. Not that Macc could have prevented him from leaving, as Kathvar told him while standing over the corpse of the erstwhile High King. The lives of druids were sacred; harming one would lead to the worst kind of execution imaginable. Despite the strength of his position, he needed to show patience—a character trait he didn’t possess.
Kathvar had smiled when Macc couldn’t hide his surprise. The warrior hadn’t expected Kathvar to agree to talk to him without even a mild protest.
The warrior still took time to build the courage to ask his questions. His internal conflict was evident to Kathvar, who was constantly amazed that warriors who could kill with ease found facing druids daunting enough to strike them dumb.
While Kathvar was hanging his robes from the bush closest to the fire, the warrior finally asked, “Why were you in the royal roundhouse, and why did you kill the usurper?”
“There has been much speculation over the last year that King Connavar played a part in the plot to kill Eterscel,” he said. “The king of Ulster is exiled at Crúachain, and the King’s champion is ruling Ulster—”
“This I know, druid, get to the point,” Macc interrupted.
Kathvar flushed with anger but managed to keep it in check as he hissed, “My king thought that to allay the suspicions of the people, he would remove the usurper from the seat he stole. He also thought it might appease Ulster’s champion and allow him to return to his rightful place.”
“I didn’t know druids also acted as king killers,” Macc said.
“Connavar sent me to kill Nuadu because he couldn’t ask Conall or Fergus. They are not receiving messages from their king. Besides, they cannot show their faces in Temuir. It is also doubtful either of them would murder a man in his bed, even if ordered to do so by their king.”
Kathvar smiled when the warrior flinched at the obvious barb.
“May Donn take all your souls if you are playing me for a fool,” Macc said as he picked up the sack from between his feet and untied his horse from the tree where it was tethered. The warrior didn’t look back as he swung into his saddle and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks.
Watching the warrior ride away, silhouetted by the rising sun, Kathvar shook his head and laughed before checking whether the fire was drying his robes.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
***
The day after meeting Macc Cecht, Kathvar stood in front of Conall Cernach at the base of the dais in the feast hall of Emain Macha.
He was losing patience.
Dagda give me strength.
Kathvar crossed his arms over his chest; he couldn’t stop thrusting his bearded chin out, challenging the champion. Petitioning Conall wasn’t part of the original plans laid by the council in the sacred glade; after meeting Macc, he decided the moment for reconciliation between King Connavar and the champion had arrived. Their pettiness had lingered for far too long, and they needed to suppress their own desires for the good of the Five Kingdoms.
“You think me gullible enough to fall for your wiles, druid?” Conall repeated. “You’re nothing if not a bull’s ball sack.”
“Watch your tongue, warrior.”
“While you and the coward are away, I am king.”
“Perhaps in name, but that is all,” Kathvar said, shaking his head at the injustice of the situation.
The warrior did not make a good king, and the people complained. It was not because of any malice. Unlike King Connavar, the warrior was not trained in kingship. Tired of his inept rule, they demanded their king return from Crúachain, where he was a guest of Queen Medb.
She will not be welcoming for much longer.
Connavar was stretching the legendary hospitality of The Warrior Queen. Kathvar watched Medb’s patience grow thinner with each passing day. He knew Conall was waiting for Medb—the true power behind the throne—to demand that Connavar leave. As soon as she did so, the champion planned to confront him and ask why he betrayed Eterscel and Conall.
I cannot allow it to come to fruition.
“Connavar has atoned for any part he might have played in the betrayal of Eterscel,” Kathvar tried again. Anyone who knew him would know he was reaching the end of his limited supply of patience. “Although, the accusations against him were falsehoods conjured up by Nuada to cover his own guilt.”
“You still deny he had a role in it,” Conall said, mouth split by a sardonic grin. “If he was innocent, why did he run?”
Kathvar and the King fled Emain Macha before Conall returned. Nuadu’s failure to neutralize the champion ended the attempt. The King’s plan relied on Conall being put to death, and when he was acquitted, they were left with no choice but to run, much to his annoyance. Kathvar constantly advised the King against elaborate plotting, but he never listened.
“The King knew how it looked—how you would see it. He fled for his own safety.”
“And how, druid, do you explain Connavar ordering Fergus to capture or kill Macc Cecht and Dond Desa because they were supposed to have strangled me with a knotted hide?”
“A messenger arrived from Temuir informing the King that the warriors executed you on the journey back to the capital. Connavar acted in good faith.”
“Acted in good faith? You think me a gaimbín, perhaps?”
Kathvar needed all his will to keep his temper. Conall frowning at him, demanding this and that, didn’t fool him. The warrior was nervous. He suspected his presence in Crúachain was all that prevented Conall from besieging the settlement and demanding the King’s surrender.
The warrior didn’t believe his story, but Kathvar could see the drudgery of listening to petitions weighed on him; kingship was as dull as it could get. Conall was used to the life of a warrior, hunting, warring, and drinking. Sitting and listening to petitions of wronged farmers couldn’t compare to his preferred existence. Even his role as commander of the Red Branch had been taken from him. The warrior couldn’t listen to petitions and lead a warband. Being in two places at once was something Dornoll didn’t teach.
Kathvar caught Conall staring at the shield on the wall beside the dais. The silver studs were sparkling in the light of the fire, tempting.
It came as no surprise to him when Conall reached a favorable decision: “This is what I propose, druid. I will hear what the King has to say without prejudgment, but I reserve the right to kill him if I think his story is false.”
“That is all that King Connavar wants, Conall. You will not be sorry, and life can return to normal for us all.”