Chapter 153: High King of Ireland

High King Brian Boru was an old man but not an old fool. He knew what his words meant. The gravity under every syllable. Asking Kazi, a foreigner, to lead the army was controversial as it was vital to the future of the kingdom. The king’s eyes were an amalgamation of years of study and strategy, of legendary battle and wisdom of people.

“Ard Rí! Your Highness—”

If Kazi stayed quiet, then Marchad might see him as a threat.

“Your Highness, I appreciate the offer, but I must decline.” Kazi gestured to Marchad. “Your son is the only man capable of leading this army, of fighting back against these invaders.”

“Yet the Lord sent us a man of your beauty and wisdom. I cannot see why else you would be here?”

It always had to be like this, huh? Those wide eyes, that sense of affirmation, the thought that he would solve all their problems—that they were waiting for him.

“Please get a hold of yourself,” Kazi said. “I am nothing more than a messenger. A foreigner cannot be leading the army of the Irish. The men would not accept it. Our plans would be in ruin.”

“The messenger is correct,” Marchad added. “He is but a messenger. That is all, father.”

The guild representatives and regional kings agreed. Kazi was not fit to lead, not now. Eventually, the seated Ard Ri of Ireland pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ah, apologies. This old man is simply growing older. Forget what I said. Marchad, do what you will. Win.”

The tone of his voice was on edge.

It happened in Japan. It happened in Russia. It happened in Brazil. The mightiest expected him to do as they desired and fix everything. He was still expecting from Kazi Hossain.

“I wish to be a part of the boat ambush,” Ksenia said.

“Oy, lady, we’ll be goin’!” Reggie, a middle-aged man with the thickest Brooklyn accent Kazi had ever heard, clapped his hands together. “My men have shields! In case the plan fails, which they always do, we can protect the mages AND attack!”

A representative of the Sapphire Order besides Ksenia? ’Hm, so each Spectre has their own representative? I guess the Sapphires aren’t as close as I assumed.’

“That’s…” Ksenia trailed off. “A good point. Huh.”

“Sir Reggie will be joining the assault on the boat then,” Marchod said. “Any disagreements?”

None at all.

“We got this!” Reggie declared. “Perdana promised us her uniform if we survive this! That shit looks sick, so we’re going to give it everything we have!”

Interestingly, Kazi caught the number 46 under his wrist. He wore a fashionable red leather cotton tunic with a blue sapphire stitched on the breast and black leggings with diamonds going down the sides.

[ Name: Reggie

Level: 18

Class: Amateur Shieldsman ]

’He said protecting and attacking. I see. Reggie’s people must be agile shieldsmen. Makes sense.’ More importantly, the colour of the Sapphire Order’s tattoos were different. Ksenia’s number 46 was red while Reggie’s number 46 was orange. ’A hierarchy-based guild…the higher the colour on the colour scheme, the higher your Spectre maybe? Ksenia is under Spectre Three. Orange is right below red, so Reggie should be under Spectre Four.’

Theoretically, at least.

“I’d like to join the ship expedition as well,” Kazi said. “I’m a shipbuilder, so I can help with sailing. I have another friend that I’d like to tag along, his name is William. He’s a capable young man. He will be of help.”

“Ah, so you are a man of the sea?” Representative of the Red Dragons, Griffith, nodded in approval.

“I sailed between the Caribbean islands once,” Kazi said with a nostalgic smile. “The hot sun was one thing but the sulfur at the springs was another.”

“Haha, I see! If you’ve ever been to Flat Holm, some of the flowers are like garlic.”

“I have been there!” Kazi beamed. “The wild leek, right? The purple flower? I remember seeing it bloom.”

“Anymore stories to trade?” Toirdelbach scoffed. “We have a battle and you’re reminiscing about some far off islands.”

A fit of coughing erupted from the High King. The regional kings were quick to his side. Brian Boru, once calm, sighed and looked up at the guild representatives. “Ah, my apologies. My body isn’t what it used to be. Please help this humble man with his remaining breath.”

“Your Highness…”

“Don’t say that.” Marchado frowned, a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Rest and watch as we save our land. Your time will come after. I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you, my son…”

“We shall begin preparations then.” Kazi didn’t need to beckon Samantha, who had been soaking everything up and reading the room. Quietly, the two left. Down the stairs they went with Kazi up ahead and Samantha tagging directly behind.

“The High King is a better actor than I thought,” Kazi remarked.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“He’s pretending to be a frail old man in order to entice results from the regional kings. After all, following this battle whether they win or lose, there is going to be a vacuum of power. Depending on who dies, anyone in that room could be the next High King.” Kazi snickered to himself. “I thought the theories on his cunning nature were inaccurate. I was very wrong.”

They arrived out of the tower, briefly stopping to greet the guards outside. Then, they followed the path to the gate.

“Why would he do that in the first place?” Samantha asked.

“Morale for the commanders and for Ireland. Only the worthiest may rule. Blood does not matter to that man. I saw the way he looked at his own son and grandson. He did not care. His belief in bloodline is based on his country and the next to rule. A way to look at the future without himself there. The people may think the High King has existed for years, but that isn’t true. It wasn’t until the ninth century, very recently, that the royal title was actually realized. Before, it was simply folklore and stories. The High King is the only person who knows this. He knows the stories are largely fabricated, that the concept of a dynasty with a long history is false. And he knows that will continue to be the case. Blood is a means of killing, not tangible power.”

At this point, they reached the gate and were allowed outside. The guards offered them nods as they went past them. They had been inside for a while, so no suspicious was casted.

“Do you really think that old man planned something like that? It seems…”

“Old people were young, too. They know how they are perceived. The Cogadh described him slaughtering his enemies to reach his goals. The fact that he’s a Master Axeman should be obvious enough that he isn’t to be trifled with. If it wasn’t for old age, he would be much stronger than Goliath.”

“If you say so…”

Samantha didn’t quite believe it. That was okay, she didn’t need to. Her role was over anyway.

It was time to put the measures in place.

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