* * *
The memory left a pounding pain in Romulus’s chest. Resentment seeped out of his heart, filling his mind and extremities with fury. Suddenly, Romulus broke out of the spell in an explosion of a rage. He released a wave of power that broke the invisible bonds that held him captive. Breaking the spell broke the stone chains wrapped around Remus. The wave also sent Brian and Cailean flying across the room, knocking them unconscious.
Remus fell to the floor, panicking and trying to catch his breath. He could feel his brother’s rage outside the door. Remus scurried to his feet and wiped the remaining tears from his cheek. He stood tall and wide in front of the soldiers, as if protecting them from the harm that was about to burst through the door.
Remus teemed with the type of authority and confidence associated with Mars that had been dormant since he left Palatine Hill. His confidence, which bordered arrogance, gave the soldiers a fighting spirit for the oncoming battle.
“You two!” Remus pointed to the two soldiers closest to Brian and Cailean. “Wake them up. The rest of you, may the gods be with you.”
Facing the door, Remus bounced from side to side, every muscle tensed in anticipation. He could feel Romulus ready to explode. His War senses on high alert, he smiled at the familiar feeling of adrenalin pumping through his veins. Remus truly was a warrior at heart and he loved it, no matter how much or long he tried to hide it.
“Come on, Rom. Come get me,” Remus whispered to himself, but he was sure his brother could hear him.
“Remus!” Romulus let out a guttural bellow. “How dare you!”
“Get on with it, Brother. I can feel the animosity boiling within you. Let it out, I promise you’ll feel much better,” Remus taunted, smiling with the anticipation of the fight he was about to have.
He dreaded it earlier, but now the anticipation made him feel more alive than he felt in ages. He lived for this moment. He was born for this moment.
Romulus pushed the soldiers holding the ram out of his way, stood in front of the double doors, and channeled his rage. His eyes glowed red as power flooded to his arms. He slammed his fists into the doors, shattering the wood and Cailean’s time spell. A combination of dust and debris clouded the hallway and throne room.
The only two left standing were Remus and Romulus. Through the cloud of dust, the soldiers could hear the sound of metal scraping together. They hurried to their feet to defend their corresponding king, but they could barely see the person next to them. They had no idea where to charge.
Once the dust settled, Romulus’ soldiers charged into the room where they met Remus’ hoplite army. The center of the army glided backwards, luring the bulk of Romulus’ soldiers inward while the soldiers on the outside rushed in to circle them. The sound of swords clashing against shields and the screeching of metal armor filled the throne room. Wails of pain echoed as archers ambushed soldiers as they rushed through the door.
The tight squeeze of the doorway made Romulus’ army vulnerable to this type of attack; soldiers and archers easily picked them off. Romulus’ army dwindled, until his Gàidheal allies arrived. Their magic sent Remus’ soldiers flying in all directions, while Gàidheal archers marched through the doorway firing arrows at an unbelievable pace, matching Brian’s archers’ power and speed.
Aeneos and Brathadair, the chief of the MacCathail clan, attacked the still unconscious ó Conaill brothers. Two members of the Clan ó Conaill, Eadan and Drostan, caught the edges of Aeneos’ and Brathadair’s swords with their shields and knocked them back from the brothers. Drostan attacked while Aeneos and Brathadair were off balance, while Eadan tried to shake Brian and Cailean awake.
“Master Cailean! Wake up, we’re falling apart,” Eadan shook Cailean’s shoulder “Clan MacCathail arrived and Brathadair knows you are here.”
Cailean groaned and sat up, holding the back of his head. Eadan turned back to his outnumbered friend and ran to help Drostan. Eadan fought Brathadair while Drostan focused on Aeneos. Before Cailean raised his sword, Aeneos ripped Drostan’s shield off his arm and slashed through his abdomen. At the same time, Brathadair lunged with his sword, but Eadan jumped out of the way. Brathadair then waved his arm and magically sent Eadan soaring into a pillar.
Brathadair walked over to the injured Eadan and lifted his sword to make a fatal blow. Suddenly, a searing pain coursed through his head. Cailean, finally on his feet, held an arm in the air with his fist clenched, magically causing Brathadair’s pain. Cailean conjured a siren to blare in Brathadair’s mind, causing his vision to blur and blood to drip from his ears.
While Cailean concentrated on neutralizing Brathadair, Aeneos crept up behind him ready to drive his sword into Cailean’s back. Before Aeneos thrust his sword, he rose off the ground with his airway closing as if someone lifted him by the throat.
Brian stood behind Aeneos with an arm extended in the same manner as Cailean. Aeneos tried to speak, but could only make wheezing noises as Brian clenched his fist tighter, restricting his airflow. “Did you honestly expect that I would let you live, let alone speak after you tried to kill my brother?”
As Brian’s rage flared, his eyes changed from blue to shining silver and his grip around Aeneos’ throat tightened. The mild tempered chief of the ó Conaill Clan could no longer control his fury. The thought of losing his baby brother kept replaying in his mind. Anger brewed in his stomach, burning through his chest and arms. In a quick turn of his wrist, Aeneos’ necked snapped and his body crumbled to the ground. Brian ran to Cailean’s side.
“Go help the others, I will deal with Brathadair,” Brian ordered Cailean.
Cailean nodded, but before leaving, he gripped Brian’s shoulder. He heard what Brian said to Aeneos before killing him. “I’m alright, Bri,” Cailean said. The corner of his mouth rose slightly in appreciation for his brother’s concern.
“You won’t be, if you don’t get over there and help those men,” grunted Brian, never taking his eyes off Brathadair.
Cailean squeezed Brian’s shoulder tighter, signaling his concern for the pending fight between Brian and Brathadair. He then ran towards the bulk of the battle. Cailean did not slow down as he jumped into the thick of the fight, swinging his sword left and right, deflecting and jabbing. The sight of him weaving in and out of harm’s way uplifted the soldiers’ spirits and a burst of ferocity took Brathadair’s clan by surprise.
Cailean’s presence was a turning point in the battle.
When Brathadair turned around, Brian already had his sword above his head, ready to cut into Brathadair with one downward blow.
Brathadair shouted, “Le Gaoth!” and a gust of wind sent Brian soaring backwards before he completed his attack.
“It looks as if your younger brother is the one with the brains in the family. At least he knew better than to attack me without magic,” Brathadair teased as Brian climbed back to his feet. He smiled excitedly, motioning around the room. “This battle will be the end of an era, Brian. Who would have thought that you and I would be the bringers of it? Then again, you and I have been there since the begin…”
“Teine!” Brian shouted as he sent a ball of fire hurling at Brathadair’s head.
Brathadair barely had time to deflect the attack with his sword.
“You are not the only one who can manipulate the elements, Brathadair.”
“Fire is how this all began, Bri, or don’t you remember the day of prophecy? After all, you and I were Eversor’s best students.”
“Do not concern yourself with my memories. Prophecies never end in the way you suspect,” Brian said as he circled his foe.
“Look around you, Brian. Love and War will always result in devastating loss. This day is the product of an ancient love and a battle destined for death.”
Brian swung his sword at Brathadair’s head, but Brathadair lurched backwards as the tip of the blade narrowly missed his nose. In his avoidance of Brian’s sword, Brathadair tripped over his own feet and fell backw
ards. His sword slid across the room where Cailean stopped it with his foot. With a flick of his ankle, Brathadair’s sword flung up into Cailean’s hand.
Brathadair looked beyond Cailean to find the o’Conaill clan herding up his own. On the opposite side of the room, Remus’ army gathered Romulus’ soldiers’ weapons and tied ropes around their wrists. Brathadair knew this battle was over and that he lost. He turned back to Brian with a wicked grin.
Brian, anticipating what Brathadair would do, jabbed his sword as quickly as he could. However, Brathadair vanished with a snap of his fingers.
“Arghhhhh!” Brian slashed his sword through the air.
Brian’s face turned scarlet at his lost attempt of killing Brathadair. He clenched his fists so tight his knuckles were white. Cailean was surprised Brian lost his composure in front of his clan and stood back to let him vent.
Behind Cailean, a loud crash and the sound of metal scraping against stone disrupted Brian’s venting. Cailean and Brian whipped around to see Remus lying on the ground against a stone pillar.
“It won’t be that easy to kill me, brother,” Remus coughed, wiping his mouth and streaking blood on the backside of his hand.
Romulus smiled crookedly. “What fun would that be?”
Romulus raised his sword again, but this time Remus was too quick for him. Remus swung his sword upward with such force Romulus’ breastplate split in two, exposing a ripped purple tunic.
“Quit now, Rom. I was always better at strategy than you,” Remus said, now standing over his brother.
“That may be so, but I was always the better swordsman.”
From his belt, Romulus drew a dagger and hurled it at Remus. The dagger flew through the air at a speed no mortal man could dodge. However, Remus rolled out of the way then jumped back to his feet. The dagger lodged deep into the pillar where Remus had been standing. No ordinary feat of strength could pull that dagger out of the stone.
Brian looked at the hilt of the dagger and noticed something familiar about the design.
Remus and Romulus circled each other, baiting the other to strike first. Remus removed his breastplate to match his brother.
“Now we are even,” Remus added, “Twins at all times.”
“Not at all times, Remmy,” Romulus lunged at his brother, but Remus once again deflected with his sword. He grabbed Romulus’ wrist with his free hand and smashed him into the wall behind him.
When Romulus turned around, his nose bled and he spat out blood.
Remus raised his sword so the tip of the blade rested against Romulus’ collarbone. “Please, Brother, don’t make me kill you. You know what the prophecy is. Pluto’s words are fate. Don’t make it like this,” Remus begged.
“Why do you think I am here, Remmy? How could a prophecy be complete if we are never together?” Romulus eyebrows furrowed and sighed in pity. He spoke with sorrow, void of malicious intent.
“Look around, Romulus. You’ve lost,” Remus said with his arms spread wide, gesturing to the room. “Your men are bound and your Gaels have let you down. Just let it go. We can return to who we were.”
Romulus’ anger loosened when Remus said they could regain their former glory as twins. A sense of peace washed over him and the grip on his sword relaxed. He missed his brother so much that he let grief turn to hatred.
Out of the corner of his eye, Romulus saw the dagger glisten in the sunlight peeking through the windows. The feeling of peace vanished and his facial expression turned blank as if in a trance. He hurdled over Remus like an acrobat, somersaulting over his head and landing gracefully behind him. Romulus swept the dagger out from the pillar with ease.
When Remus twisted around to face his brother, Romulus drove the dagger into his brother’s unprotected chest. Stunned, Remus stumbled backwards to the wall and slid to the ground. He watched his brother slowly walk towards him. Instead of seeing Romulus happy at his deathblow, shock covered his face. He stared at his hands in disbelief, not realizing what he had done.
Romulus fell beside Remus and grabbed the dagger with both hands. It then dawned on Brian how he recognized the dagger. He knew it from when he studied at Ériu. That was Eversor’s dagger. He remembered the story Eversor told him about his wife, the gods, and the dagger.
“Noooo!” Brian shouted as he sprinted towards the Twin Kings. “Do not removed the dagger, Romulus!”
Romulus did not heed Brian’s warning and pulled the dagger from Remus’ chest. Wrapped around the blade was a string of red light. Shocked at what he was seeing, Romulus instantly dropped the dagger and dragged his brother away from the mysterious object.
Cailean immediately ran to help move Remus. Together, they dragged Remus by the wrists to a pillar and propped him up. Cailean tried to use a healing spell on Remus, but nothing worked. Blood continued to ooze from the wound in his chest. Cailean tore long strips of his shirt to wrap around the king’s chest while Romulus, on his knees, rocked back and forth apologizing, holding Remus’ hand.
“Romulus!” Cailean shouted to get his attention, “Where did you get that dagger?”
“I don’t know, I have never seen it before.”
“There must be some type of poison that I can’t heal,” Cailean shook his head, unsure of what to do next.
Meanwhile, Brian grabbed the dagger and ran back to the pillar where the dagger was once stuck. Just as he was about to stab the dagger back in the hole, he was yanked backwards. The dagger slid out of his hands with the light still wrapped around the blade. It slid to the foot of a man Brian knew well.
The man also looked familiar to Remus. This man stabbed his wife.
“Hello, Brian.” The man smiled smugly.
In utter shock and fear, Brian could barely breathe the name. “Eversor.”
The Phoinix: Age of Demigods Page 39