Chapter 12-341: Return of the Black Irish (1/2)

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“You look like you’ve been smacked in the face with a big mackerel, Uncle,” I offered cordially.

Ireland’s favored redheaded son, Sean Highsun, The Sun of Ireland, looked up at me up there on my distinctly non-orthodox horned flaming skeletal monstrosity of a Mount, trying to keep the odd look off his face and failing.

“Did ye put him up to that?” he had to ask me, knowing I knew The Mick after I had come riding here in his pimpmobile.

“Came right out of left field,” I denied firmly. “Deduced it when he started Singing. By the look on your face, he got to you.”

He stepped into the air next to me and glided alongside as I rode down towards the water slowly, in no hurry.

“He had some very good words. That man has a grim history to him, Dark,” he shook his head. “I don’t know if he will be a Good King, but he will definitely be a King.”

“He knows the art of the deal. There had to be something he offered you to talk you out of a run for the Crown. Out with it, Uncle,” I prodded him.

He sighed as he ran a hand through his flaming locks, eyes far away. “He made a promise I don’t think I could, and he made me promise something I would promise anyways, only he was freeing me to actually do it.”

“Sounds intriguing,” I noted. “Go on.”

“He said that when the Shroud goes down, things are going t’ be bad. Technology is going t’ completely go away, as ye know. Times will be hard, and then things of magic are going t’ be coming in, on the land, the sea, the sky, and the stars.” His eyes jerked up despite himself. “It’s going t’ be dark, grim times, and it’s going t’ need a dark, grim King to lead the people through it all.

“He promised that throughout the entirety of his Reign, he would never leave Ireland’s shores. He would ride the miles of its roads and fields, so that wherever and whenever the things that are coming arrived at Ireland’s shores, he would be there to face them.

“He would make the people strong, so that nobody from outside Her shores would subjugate the Irish again, and that they would grow strong enough that we could take our place as a nation and contribute to the peace and defense of the world.

“And he made me promise that I would be their Champion, their burning fire in the darkness. That I would go out there into the world to face the threats greater than Ireland, that I would chase those that dared test Her shores into the darkness, and burn them down. By being King, he would give me the freedom t’ do that, shining the light while he grasped the darkness.”

“What? Such wonderful logic? No arm-wrestling, drinking contests, punch-out matches?” I inquired in disbelief. “Are you sure the two of you are Irish?”

He made a noise despite himself. “That man is a beast. He’d studied me records, me books, me speeches. He knew what t’ say and how t’ say it. He laid out things t’ me...” His voice trailed off, and his eyes sharpened. “He’s Blooded. He’s seen some grim things, and that’s saying something in this world.”

“That is going to be the world when the Shroud goes down, and without enough strength, it’s going to be bad,” I agreed. “He’s not a nice person, but a nice person is not what you’re going to want on that Throne, Uncle.”

“Yes,” he agreed. He glanced at me, and coughed. “He also gave me a look at his assets.”

The corner of my mouth turned up. “He doesn’t need to bleed the country, true enough.”

“He’s worth more than your mother and I put together, and I thought we were the wealthiest people in Ireland. Well, we were...” he trailed off, shaking his head again.

“Did you agree on a timeline?”

“I’ll back him as quickly as he can take the Crown. If anyone wants to challenge him, they’ll first have to pass by me,” he swore solemnly.

The Old Steed halted at the edge of the estuary. “Well, he made a loud splash coming in with that Song, and converting a shoggoth. Did he tell you how he was planning to get the approval of the Divine?”

“He said it were tied up with putting old ghosts to rest.”

I looked east, towards Limerick. “Is that so? How ensconced are the Fir Ocras in Limerick?”

“They control the underworld here, sure enough, but their base of power is down south in Cork. It’s a branch family they’ve running things hereabouts, and the De Duluus chop their noses off if they wander north at all.”

“Well, then, I’m going to leave him to his path.” The Old Steed turned west. “I’ve got some surveys to start on.”

“Oh?” Sean Highsun asked curiously.