They were surrounded, penned in on all sides. There would be no escape.

Dagda did not care. Ardgal lay motionless, his features, even to Dagda almost unrecognisable. The tears, falling freely, hissed as they fell on his skin such was the heat still radiating from his body.

Dagda’s hands burned when he placed them upon his father’s face, cracked and torn as it was.

He placed his body sheltering Ardgal’s, nothing mattered now, nothing.

His head pounded. He thought back, it made no sense. Why?

They had placed themselves at the rear, they were supposed to be the last into the forest, waiting until all the others had made their escape, Ardgal would not move until all had gone before him. Michaél and Dagda resolved to follow his lead.

Dagda clenched his fists, blood dripped from his grip on his already kindled skin. It had all been so perfect.

Those at the head of the charge, the ones commanded to create an opening had shattered the unprepared, unsuspecting men, with the help of the Giants and Daedan their path was clear. Until...until it wasn’t.

The cavalry had came out of nowhere and the deadly crossbows had splintered through them reaching to those most vulnerable in their ranks, the young mothers and children. They had kept to the rear to ensure a clear route was left free to them to pass, and they would have were it not for the cavalry that circled them.

The screams and cries of those struck down still rang clear and shrill in his head, trapped and hemmed in they were hopelessly at the mercy of the bolts and spears of the men. They had tried desperately to strike and rejoin the others but the men were too many, too much for them to split.

Then...then came the fire.

That is all he could see in his mind, an all consuming flame that had decimated the men’s cavalry forcing a safe passage back into the forest to where the others lay waiting. An all consuming flame which in doing so had taken his father. He had allowed the Omen to overwhelm him, willingly sacrificing himself to save them. He knew, he knew it would be his death, yet he did it anyway.

Dagda wiped his tears, he looked up to stare at the faces all about him, each one had played a part in this, each one deserved to die. Dagda knew he could not kill them all. But half would do.

The men and all who heard of this would remember the name of Ardgal and Dagda of the Druaidíi, and the others, Tadgh, Cormac all of them could fight on in their name.

Dagda stood, claíomh in one hand and earth Omen simmering in the other. He let the tears fall and took one final moment and made to move. Before he could take his first step however he felt a hand upon his shoulder holding him in place. Michaél.

He had seen it all and had still not left Ardgal’s side, his laboured breaths came loud and heavy, the breaths of a dying man. His smile defied the bolts dotted on his body, the tears upon his face flowed almost as strong as the blood. Almost.

The sound of a voice tore Dagda away as he turned to face its source. Brandubh was mounted upon his horse, surrounded by his royal guard. To his left stood the Milesian Geara, and about him the Brutari. They stayed a distance away yet Brandubh’s voice carried, “Dún na Rí is ours, it is now part of the Milesian Empire and as such it is it’s property to do with as it pleases.”

His voice was strong, clear and precise. “Your people are gone, no doubt they are by now deep into the forest heading to some refuge which will later be revealed. It matters not, so long as they stay away and do not intervene in the affairs of the land they will be left undisturbed.

You have my word. Dagda, Michaél,” his tone changed, when he spoke his voice was lower, softer, almost gentle.

“We were once allies,” Brandubh paused shifting in his saddle, “Successfully so, you fought alongside us and we alongside you. Whether you believe it or not it has not been our preferred choice this war. But it has been the only choice. We are Milesian now and as such must act as servants of the Empire. But that does not mean I and my men do not retain some respect or affection for you and your people. As a tribute to what we once were and my own personal feelings and debt to Ardgal I will allow you to leave with my blessing and protection. Go now freely, take Ardgal and give him the burial one such as him deserves.”

Empty words from an empty man. One void of any loyalty or honour.

Dagda raised his claíomh, immediately the click of a thousand crossbows priming filled the air.

“No.” Michaél leaned heavily on him, blood spluttered at his every breath his face etched in pain, “Dagda, I know. I know. But think, listen to me. You hurt now, but do not let that hurt blind you, I beg you. Look at me.”

Dagda finally turned to face him, cursing himself for his tears.

Michaél’s voice was rasping and pained, if he was not so close Dagda would have struggled to hear him.

“You never listen,” he smiled sadly, “But hear me, lash out now and you will kill some nameless men it’s true, many even. But so too will you. A most pointless and futile death. That cannot happen. Let us walk away now and do what is right. And more importantly…” Michaél turned Dagda to face him straining even at so little an effort. “Do what he would want us to do.”

Every word he said was true. Dagda knew it but every part of his body screamed at him to strike out. To let the pain rule his mind. To inflict on the men some of what they had inflicted on him. But that was senseless and small-minded, everything Ardgal has spent his life teaching me not to be.

Dagda relaxed his hands and knelt down to his father once more. He whistled loud and shrill, from within the forest came Sceolán, bounding nervously through the ranks of men.

Taking as much care as possible he lifted Ardgal gingerly and placed him softly upon his back. Michaél stumbled as he tried to help and only Dagda’s arm prevented him from falling.

“Here, you lead.” Offering a hand Dagda gently raised Michaél up alongside his greatest friend. Michaél collapsed as soon as he was in place. He is hurt badly, more than he will let me know. I need to find a healer quickly.

They began their slow progress into the forest, all around them the men stared, none of their faces registered to Dagda, they were all shadows, each one blurring into the other. None of it seemed real. As they passed the last of the men and entered underneath the canopy of the forest Brandubh’s voice called out once more.

“Do not forget this mercy Dagda. Let this be our last encounter. the Druaidíi must recognise their place in this new world, just as we have with ours. If not then they will end up like their brothers and sisters here, cold, lifeless victims of an unwinnable war. Tell your people that.”

Dagda did not turn his back but spoke his final words as they disappeared into the forest, “All wars are winnable Brandubh. Tell your people that.”

Once they were in the forest Tadhg and Cormac hurried to their side, ‘We returned as soon as we realised you were yet behind. We did not wish to appear once Brandubh called a stop. But know that had you gone down, so too would we...” Tadhg stopped short as he looked from Dagda to Michaél and Ardgal upon the elk.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Dagda nodded, he had nothing to say. There was nothing to say.

“We need to get to a medic, the others have gone ahead deep into the forest.” Cormac’s worried, fearful expression belied the conviction in his voice, “I will go and fetch one, you should rest here, moving must be pain enough for them as it is.”

At his words Michaél seemed invoked into a reaction, he forced himself into an upright position and hauled on the reins, “No. No medic. I am tired. We will rest here a moment. Tadhg, Cormac you stand guard and circle the perimeter.”

“Stand guard? Against who? The men will not follow us in here.” Tadhg looked puzzledly at Dagda and Cormac, neither responded. Michaél placed a hand on his broad shoulders, “Do it for me Tadhg, for an old fool’s piece of mind.”

Tadhg looked down sheepishly, “Yes, of course. You just call me. You just call me soon as your ready. I’ll be right here waiting.” He turned away quickly but Dagda saw the tears in his eyes. He knows.

Cormac stood for a moment, his mouth open, ‘I…” but he closed it again before any words could get out.

“Thank you Cormac.” Michaél embraced Cormac and pushed him away gently, he looked all about him and breathed in deeply.

“Yes, here is good Dagda, help me down would you. Dagda?”

Dagda blinked as if woken from a dream, ‘What? No we must continue, you must see a healer, rest and get well. You must lead now Michaél, it is your role now.”

Michaél smiled grimly, “I think.. I think I have fulfilled my role Dagda. Now please, your hand.”

Dagda pursed his lips but did as he was told and helped Michaél down, propping him up against an Old Oak.

“Ah.” Michaél turned his head slowly taking in all around him, Such beauty. We never notice the beauty enough, too busy trying to create anew than to appreciate that which is already here.”

Dagda knelt down beside him, “We must remove the bolts, I must do something.”

Michaél waved him away, ‘No, no leave them be, such agony would be as painful as it would be unnecessary.”

His face writhed in anguish as he leaned back,‘“I know Dagda,” he pulled Dagda in close to him, “I know I am done.”

He closed his eyes smiling, “You have grown into a fine young Druaid Dagda, had my son lived I hope he would have been much like you. You are more like your father than you could ever know. I can give you no greater compliment than that. Now go, my head is fit to burst from Ardgal. He wishes to speak with you one final time.”

Dagda looked to the skies, “He no longer breathes, he is already gone. I will have no goodbye.”

Michaél chuckled and grabbed him by the jaw, “You should know by now the stubbornness of your father, I believe he wishes for me to go first, competitive bastard, never could let me win. He cannot speak to you no, he is too weak. But there is life inside him yet. Focus, telepathy Dagda, he refuses to go without a goodbye from his most precious treasure.”

Michaél closed his eyes and placed his hand across his chest, “Leave him down beside me would you, we will enter Heaven together, brothers till the end. The gods have allowed us that much at least.”

Dagda turned away slowly to look back to Ardgal’s broken body once more. As careful and gently as he could he lifted Ardgal down beside Michaél as he had requested. He needed what Michaél had said to be true. But even Dagda’s keen ears could not pick up any sign of life or breath. He choked back his tears and attempted to regain some level of composure. He took three deep breaths and closed his eyes, letting his mind calm he pictured Ardgal as he always did, standing tall and strong, proud and regal, he allowed his mind empty and clear, willing with all his body and soul for a connection.

For what seemed an age there was nothing and he could find no trace of connection, but just when his will faltered he heard it, the most comforting sound he had known since the day of his birth. His father’s voice.

It came to him soft and weak, weaker than he could have ever imagined, Dagda strained every muscle and fibre of his being and slowly he felt the connection evolve and strengthen.

“My son. Do not cry, not now, not for me. For life hurts far more than death ever could. To die here with you and Michaél by my side and the forest all around me is more than I and most could ever hope for.”

‘You gave yourself, you let the Omen take you willingly. We could have fought our way out. Together we could have.”

Dagda couldn’t stop the anger in his mind, the despair.

“I have little time left to me Dagda, soon my mind too will be gone, just like my body. You know as well as I do we were doomed, the women and children along with us. I had no choice, there was only one way out. I would gladly give my life again if it meant saving the life of our young and vulnerable. I was their leader Dagda. As you are now. Remember this, a leader leads by example not fear or self-pity. I was the one who decided on the charge. I could not allow them fall by my doing.”

Dagda held his head against his father’s chest, his tears glistened on his cheeks just like the morning dew all around them.

“But you have left me. There is so much to do, too much. I have to learn, to ask, I am not ready. Not yet.”

“No one ever is Dagda, that is how you know you are a leader. The first person you must lead is you. You are my son and you are destined for great things, now is your time to rise and show your true worth.”

“You think too much of me. You guided me in all I did, you and your words, I fear I cannot be the Druaid you wish me to be.”

“You are that already, and more besides. You just do not know it yet, but you will, you will see.”

There was a pause and time itself seemed to have stopped to permit their final pleasant silence.

“Dagda, I must go, it is time. Do not despair, nor mourn for me and what is done. All greatness comes from loss. Go, go and be with our people and show the world the true meaning of the word Druaidíi.”

Dagda shook his head wanting to say everything and nothing all at once, “I still need you.”

Though no movement was made he felt a familiar hand upon his head.

“Only alone do we know our true strength, and yours is beyond what is even imaginable, that is my final request to you, my son. Remember your strength for it is unshakeable.”

Ardgal’s voice grew ever fainter and his words became little more than a whisper.

“The best of me is in you, one day you will see how proud you have made me. Now I must go, there are many waiting for me. Farewell Dagda, Farewell my Son.”

Dagda gasped as the connection broke and his body heaved in the morning air. He is gone, gone forever.

Dagda had never felt such pain, no one ever told me grief felt so like fear.

He lay there motionless, his mind a race but with no desire or wish to move or take himself from this place.

It was not until Tadhg knelt down beside him that he finally emerged from his thoughts. Tadhg on one side, Cormac on the other they sat down beside him. None of them spoke, they just sat in silence, to Dagda it seemed an age but may have been only a minute, time was hard to tell. Eventually Tadhg dragged himself to his feet, “Dagg, we should move, night will be upon us and perhaps it would be better to begin our journey now. Darragh told the others to stop and wait until you and.. until you returned.”

He looked at Dagda expectantly, ‘Dagg?”

“What journey?”

“To the others, and on to Imeall Uisce just as your father intended and planned.”

“Yes to Imeall Uisce.” Dagda spoke without emotion, “Tell me how many of our People did survive and make it through the breach?”

Cormac cleared his throat rousing himself, “Of what was left from before the charge are numbers are impressively high, it was a good plan. Most got through before the men knew what was happening. If Brandubh had not had his cavalry circle and close us off it would have been perfect.”

Tadhg leaned forward, “Even still because of Ardgal the women and children who would otherwise have been cut down also made it through. Most anyways.” Tadhg’s voice faded with his last words.

“And the Giants and Daedan?”

Tadhg scratched his head, “Smashed through without problem, lost one maybe two Giants and something like that of their Daedan, I can’t say for sure though.”

“Then we have enough.”

“Enough?” For what?” Cormac looked at Dagda curiously.

“To continue. To fight. Be rid of our enemies, cause divisions, problems anything it takes to make them pay for what they’ve done.”

Tadhg and Cormac exchanged worried looks, “I dunno Dagg, everything is still so raw, “ Cormac shifted uncomfortably, “I’m not sure we're ready just yet. We need to get to Imeall Uisce and build ourselves up first. The men will pay for what they’ve done. But not just yet.”

“I’ll not hide and sit back doing nothing, not now, not after this. Brandubh should have killed me today. Just like my father should have let him be killed long ago. I will find a way to make the Druaidíi great again.”

“I know you will, and we’ll be here alongside you to do it,” Tadhg had a worried look on his face.

“Now come it is time we were back. You will lead now Dagg, the others will want and need to know of your survival.”

Dagda arose with an unyielding look upon his face and mounted his elk once more. Without another word he raised his hood and set off.