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The Final Flight
Chapter 17 (Brandubh)

Chapter 17 (Brandubh)

Brandubh shut the doors to King Breogan's Royal chambers behind him. As usual he and the King were the only ones now remaining. Since the attack at Dúnrath he had been completely preoccupied with carrying out Breogan's final orders and sending out his personal messages to the Earls. Not wanting to return all the way back to Gorias only to march back to Ardfhearg the King had instead taken his stay at Earl Harfrigh's city of Concani.

All around could be seen the rewards of the Milesian trade routes acquired by Harfrigh and his subjects. The city was a bustling mass of commerce and people and it had fast grown to become one of Aileann's chief cities. Perhaps too fast. The streets and districts so easily kept and distinct in Gorias were nowhere to be seen in Concani. In the rush to keep pace with their growing wealth and status the people of the city had built when and wherever they could with little care for planning or placement. The result was sprawling collections of poor slums interspersed alongside the villas and manses of the rich. Not that the locals seemed overly troubled or worried, it was a situation unlikely to change anytime soon. Harfrigh had other thoughts on his mind.

The King stood in the same position that he had left him some hours earlier, perched over the pieces laid out upon the war table. Brandubh approached the board wordlessly, the king had made no indication to recognise his entrance but continued to fixate on the pieces, in his hand he held a piece much larger than the others.

“How many hours have we spent already poring over this board? How many different outcomes and predictions have we made and planned for? Too many and yet I still feel as if we are not ready for what the Milesians have in store for us.”

He rubbed his forehead continuing to play with the pieces, “In my mind I am troubled, though the Milesians claimed they wished for peace and called the gathering to arrange as much, they did not act as ones pushing for peace. Instead they seemed to be content with war. Which is just as we had predicted and have already planned for. If all goes to plan we will reach Carthaga within the week, unless they can bring reinforcements from the continent they will fall, and quickly. If all that is true then why then do I feel like I am doing exactly as they wish, what is it, what is it that I am missing?”

Brandubh shook his head lightly, “Caution and weariness are no traits to be dismissed my King, you are right to be anxious, you are the Leader of Aileann and you alone hold the hopes and worries of its people. I see this, but you are doing what you feel must be done. Such is the way of a King.”

Breogan laughed gently to himself, “Yes and it is that indeed that concerns me. Am I doing right by my people? What care have they for War and all it brings?”

Brandubh nodded understandingly and placed his hands behind his back, “You speak true my King, however it must be said that there are those who whisper of a wiser course of action whereby we would cooperate with the Milesians to secure a more prosperous and secure future. To place our pride aside and bow to their rule so as to keep our own power. Vassals of Milesia hold limited power yes it's true but limited power is better than no power. And what is limited can be pushed and tested.”

The king slowly turned to face Brandubh, his expression tightened and his eyes never left his, “And you Brandubh? You have been on the side of War these past days have you not? Does your mind change so? Do you now see a wiser course? Could you bow down to those which wish to do us harm. Your pride, history and ancestors, all those who died for this to be called our land, would you cast it all aside then? Is that what you, my most trusted advisor, now advocate?”

Brandubh began to pace moving to the opposite side of the table as he did so, “My ancestors were little more than glorified slaves abused and condemned everywhere they went, I doubt they would care all that much how it is I have power, only that I did. But you are right, it is true I did lean towards war my Liege, and it did seem to me for a time to be the only outcome.”

He put his fingers to his lips and stopped mid stride, “And yet, the more rumours I heard and people I spoke to... Earls included, the more I began to see the bigger picture. We cannot win this War. You know it, Ardgal knows it and Aachfheall knows it. Battles yes, those we could win. Of that I have no doubt. Truly. Yet you would forget it all rather than concede that working with and not against the Milesians is indeed our best course of action. Even if it comes with the price of our sovereignty and the introduction of Milesian rule. For is that truly so hard? So challenging for you? If we feign and pretend to succumb to the Milesian Emperors and their Gods and traditions then in return we will keep our independence in all but name and maintain our rule over the land.”

Breogan casually placed his hand upon the pommel of his sword, “You are a clever man Brandubh, and cunning besides. But if you truly believe that once the Milesians claim dominion over this land they will allow us free rein then you are sorely mistaken. We would be puppet rulers. A symbol, a throwaway bone to the people of Aileann to represent a front to the conquering of our land. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The king stood directly across from him, a heavy silence hung in the air.

Brandubh broke the stare to look back to the War table once again avoiding the King’s gaze.

“So you would turn your back on me then? You, the most effective, most informed and most useful of my subjects. I brought you from a lowly scribe to sit at my right hand side and yet now you would betray me? You have always been an ambitious man but this is something beyond even you.”

Brandubh played with the pieces on the board, knocking over many as he did so.

“It is a significant step that I can not deny, but is not out of reach. I have not made my moves without considering how my position will impact the board. You are a good King, some would even say a great King, me amongst them, however sad though it may be, your time has passed, a new approach is needed, we cannot hope to win out a war against the Milesians. They require a different tact, different man, a different type of King, one willing to do what may, pride or no to secure its future. It’s best future. One you would never agree to.

I must prove myself a loyal subject to the Empire and ingratiate myself to them and their ways. I have studied the Milesians for many years now, seen how they act and how they behave. To them the prestige and the idea of the Empire is as, if not more important to them than true control and power. So long as I appear obedient and make the right noises I will be left alone and Aileann will be mine, any Milesian power or influence will be tempered under my rule. Aileann will prosper and its people along with it.”

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Breogan chuckled, “You see me sitting on the throne all day, delegating tasks you deem important, leaving you with the complaints and problems of the masses to deal with. You see this and you think my role easy.”

An anger crept into his voice, an emotion the King rarely allowed reveal itself, Brandubh maintained his stony expression making no move to interrupt, let him say his piece.

“A King does not seek power. He is power. You are no King Brandubh, your undeniable qualities aside. You have always seen yourself as the master puppeteer I know, always in control, every vibration, every move on your strings regulated by you and you alone. And that is precisely the reason I would have you here.”

Breogan turned to look sideways at Brandubh and shook his head laughing quietly to himself, “But the Milesians have not had an Empire for almost a thousand years without reason. They do not fall into traps they themselves make, they will allow you perform all you want but it is they who will control the stage. You will not beat them in such a way.”

Brandubh nodded and looked at the King without emotion, “They will soon find out that this performer needs no stage. Do not worry for me, I will not falter or waver from my designs, of which I have many.”

Breogan regarded him coolly, his hand remained by his sword. Though he did not draw it.

“And tell me Brandubh, what role have I in your designs? You would not be so bold to speak so openly unless you have gained the consent from those within these castle walls and beyond. Maybe it is that I truly do not know my own People.”

“Oh on the contrary my King you are still loved, still treasured throughout Aileann, yet rumours stick and with you on the throne war will ensue. A war people do not want nor believe in. Of course there will be those that resist and many more did at first despite better advice, yet they…”

he examined his finger absentmindedly toying with the many rings on his fingers, “were swayed, one way or another, and so….so these rumours have been spread and consolidated and unfortunate as it may be, you have been deemed an unnecessary relic of the past. A relic to be treasured for what it is and what it has done and to now rest and retire. And you will do so, you and your heir. On that I was most insistent. You, your wife and child will be free honored guests in Milesia itself. There are far worse ways to spend one's final years.”

The door to the chambers swung open to the strong fierce figure of Fathach who was followed closely behind by the equally imposing frames of Davar and Riann, the three most skilled of Brandubh's personal guard. Each was fully armored and armed, and each of their swords glistened red.

The king didn't take his eyes off him or give any indication he had noticed their entrance at all.

“Of me I do not care, but my family Brandubh, swear, swear that whatever occurs they will not meet harm. Swear it on all that is sacred. Even a man such as you must yet hold some fear for the wrath of the Gods.”

Brandubh turned to face the King once more, a sincere and serious expression was painted across his face.

“I swear on all that I hold sacred that no harm will meet your family. I have not now or ever any intention otherwise. They are not features in this story. Believe what you will but I do not bear you or your kin any ill fortune or resentment, if situations were different I would not make such a move.”

“Oh you would have Brandubh, all these years, all those informants and spies you brought before me. Each one another success for you and each one a further sign for you of your prowess and suitability for the role. A role you will never be able to fulfill. You will never be a true King, a true leader. Not a man of your ilk. People such as you which rise to power in a manner as the one you have chosen can only rule one way.” Brandubh allowed his hands fall behind his back, he made no move to answer.

Breogan still made no sound of alarm or called for aid, he knows I have already seen to that. He pointed accusingly at Brandubh, “Every day of your rule will be spent in constant alert, full of paranoia and treacherous allies, you will know no rest, no respite, you will never have security or certainty in yourself of your position. This rule you have conspired to attain and hold will be a curse on you, a poisoned chalice, you will come to regret the day you ever thought to deceive me Brandubh O Falliadh. A poisoned chalice, poured from your own hand. A curse forever on your name”

“We shall see.” Brandubh had heard and seen far worse in his time as spymaster, one more curse on my name to add to the many others.

Breogan did not respond but kept his icy stare locked on him, Brandubh urged Fatchach ahead, “And now my King I am afraid it is time. Will you come? You are an old man now, you have done much and seen more. No one would begrudge you in your pride or principles but it is time to step away now.” He eyed the King warily, “Will you come?”

Breogan smiled, a true carefree smile, “You have served me now how

long? Twenty years, more? You tell me, oh wise one, will I come freely?”

Brandubh sighed deeply, “And so I feared but regrettably knew. Very well then, perhaps it is for the best. A fitting end. Farewell my King.”

Seeing their moment arrived his men moved in, Fathach at the centre, Davar left and Riann right as one they advanced. The king did not move or react, not until Fathach closest of the three moved within striking distance, then with a swift draw and swivel that belied his age he struck out swiping straight across his face before Fathach could get his blade in front. The blood began spraying profusely from his cheek as he cursed the King. Breogan met the blades of both Davar and Riain as they pushed forward, expertly guiding them backwards until he was almost in the corner, preventing them from taking his rear. Still with two blades already raining down on him even a man such as Breogan could not hold out, not at his age. As he watched, Fathach recovered himself enough to join back into the attack. With three blades it was now inevitable and Brandubh gritted his teeth as the first meaningful strikes got through the King’s defence. For what seemed like an eternity Breogan fought on bravely but was eventually brought to his knees as Fathach rammed his blade deep into the King’s stomach. For a moment time seemed to stand still, Brandubh almost reached out to stop them. Almost.

The King raised his head a final time to look deep into the eyes of the man who had betrayed him. Too deep, his very gaze seemed to penetrate his soul. His strength almost gone as the blood poured freely he didn’t speak but instead mouthed two solitary words, A curse.

Brandubh peeled his eyes away and nodded to Fathach before turning towards the door. The King’s final words had unsettled him, there was more than an empty threat in his eyes as he spoke those final words. There was conviction. As if he believed he had indeed cursed me.

Branudbh shook himself and opened the door to leave. As he left he heard the final stroke and thud as both head and crown clattered eerily along the floor. He didn’t stop. The crown could wait. He had yet much to do. The real work had only now begun. Milesians, Earls, Druaidíi, Giants all were his to deal and manage now. And manage he would. His time with Breogan had been all in preparation for this moment he now knew. Brandubh closed his chamber doors to the outside world and to the cries of bloodshed as those too foolish or stubborn were taught a lesson. A lesson that all of Aileann and beyond would soon learn. Pride and loyalty brought a man a long way but wisdom and perception further still. Those who had not yet seen the error of their ways would be made to. One way or another. A new day would soon arrive and with it a new King. King Brandubh.