The king of Kells stood at the head of the table in his throne room, and frowned down at the weathered map spread out in front of him. It depicted the entire island of Eire, as well as three of the nearest islands. A thick blue line divided Kells from Temra, and cut the island of Eire into two kingdoms. -And Conchobar intended to keep it that way. He looked around at his officers.
"What is your council on this matter?"
Torq, who had been fuming throughout the planning session, spoke first.
"My king, we cannot allow this challenge to go unanswered. If Maeve gets away unpunished, after sending her minions into this very castle, there's no telling how bold she'll grow."
"I agree." said prince Ivar.
"The castle must be secure." agreed commander Colm.
"But it ISN'T." interrupted prince Garrett. His observation was met with uncomfortable silence. "Maeve and Mider can transport themselves inside Kells castle with their evil magic whenever they wish, and be gone just as easily."
"If that's so, why haven't they done it before now?" asked commander Colm.
"Simple. They were afraid. But now that they know they can get away with it, we've got serious trouble."
"Perhaps if we made the Temras taste the same medicine they gave us... That should put a stop to their murderous tricks." said commander Uan.
"An excellent idea." beamed Torq. "We can strike them where they least expect us, at the heart of castle Temra itself. That should give them cause to think twice about attacking us again from within!"
"So it is to be a war of fear, then?..." Conchobar said, neutrally. Ivar folded his arms over his chest, and Uan looked uncomfortable.
"We do not have the magic to keep them at bay by other means, my king." pointed out Garrett.
"No..." Conchobar looked thoughtful for a moment, and smoothed a hand over his beard. "Garrett, Torq, go to castle Temra, and teach them the consequences of playing games at our expense. Recover the chalice if the chance presents itself, but don't put your primary mission in jeopardy to do so, understood?"
"I wish to volunteer for this mission." said Ivar. Conchobar shook his head.
"No, I need one of you here at the castle." -that and he didn't think Ivar could resist going after the chalice to the exclusion of all else. Ivar looked deeply disappointed.
"As you wish, king Conchobar." he sighed. Torq, Garrett, and the battalion commanders took their leave and walked out. Ivar turned to the king. "I'll be up on the ramparts, if you have need of me." Conchobar put up a restraining hand.
"Actually, I wanted your council on another matter, if the ramparts will bide." Conchobar turned to one of the throne room guards. "Summon Cathabad." Ivar raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
"Yes, my king." the guard nodded, and left.
At night, castle Temra looked even more forbidding than usual, sharp stone spines raking the stars overhead, like the bones of a long-dead dragon. Torq, Garrett, and half a dozen Kells soldiers were crouched behind a narrow rise of heath, just outside the outer perimeter of the Temra lookouts.
"Only three near enough to see us. How many do you count on your side, prince Garrett?" whispered Torq.
"Four," Garrett whispered back.
"We slip through on my side, then. Garrett, Miles, you take the two guards on the right, and do it quietly. I'll take the one on the left."
Torq moved off through the grass, like a cold November breeze. Once they had dealt with the guards, time was of the essence, because they only had until the next changing of the guard before the Temras would know something was amiss. There were more guards at the entrance of the castle, but they were able to lure them away from the gate with tossed stones long enough to slip through, and the guards were none the wiser. Once inside the castle, Garrett led them to Maeve's throne room from memory, since that was where he had stolen the chalice from last time he'd been here. It was deserted, and the candles were cold. The only light in the room came from the skylights overhead, aligned ovals of pale moonlight. Torq chuckled softly.
"We have them."
"We have the throne room." corrected Garrett. "And the chalice isn't here."
"That's not the mission, now, is it?" retorted Torq. "It wouldn't do to run into Maeve in her own castle, in any case."
"Then what do ~you~ suggest?" asked Garrett, somewhat annoyed by Torq's condescending tone.
"To begin with, I'm going to make sure Maeve knows we were here, personally. You two, bring the throne to the center of the room, and set it down on it's side, quietly. Two puzzled Kells soldiers did as they were bidden, then looked to their captain for an explanation. Torq listened carefully for a moment, then unlaced the front of his breeches, and relieved himself upon the throne of Temra. There was much choking and stifled laughter from his subordinates, and two of them joined him in his vulgar act of throne-defilement. Prince Garrett shook his head in disgust.
"Whenever you've quite finished...?" he suggested. Torq laced up his breeches, and turned to face the prince.
"Yes?"
"Distinctive as that was, don't you think we should do some actual damage?"
"Of course." agreed Torq. "But everything has it's proper timing."
"Apparently." muttered Garrett. Torq chose to ignore this.
"What do we do now, sir?" asked Miles.
"Get the torches from the walls, and light them. We're firing the castle." decided Torq.
"That's better." agreed Garrett.
"M'lord! Wake up, quickly! Intruder alert! You've got to-" Rohan's captain was yelling, just outside the door to Rohan's chamber.
"Eamonn...? Enough, I'm coming!" growled Rohan, pulling on breeches and a loose blue tunic. He grabbed his sword on his way out the door. Smoke greeted him in the hallway, and he turned to Eamonn quickly. "Are they still in the castle?"
"I don't know, m'lord, but the fires-"
"Take the men of the first watch, and get those fires put out, NOW!"
"What about the intruders?"
"Leave those poor bastards to me."
"Right." Eamonn made off down the corridor. Rohan coughed in the thickening smoke, and ran down to the courtyard. If he was an intruder, he would be leaving now, because with the fires already set, there would be no need to remain. With everything inside the castle in chaos, who would think to guard the outer gate? Rohan slipped outside the castle, and leaned against the outer wall, catching his breath from the foul smoke inside. The minute those Kellsmen -and he was certain they were the intruders, after all, who else was it going to be?- stepped through those gates they would be-
-That was when he heard the screaming of the horses. The stables. Those misbegotten Kellsmen had set the stables afire, and with all the troubles inside the castle, it would be too late for the horses by the time Eamonn learned of it. Rohan swore, and ran back through the courtyard towards the stables. The thatched roof of the stables was on fire, and flaming chunks of it were falling through onto the straw on the floors of the stalls. For once, Rohan was glad that the straw was probably wet. Rohan paused at a rain barrel just outside, and poured a bucket of water over his head so that his hair and clothing wouldn't catch on fire. This accomplished, he re-filled the bucket, and ducked inside. It was flames, flames everywhere, and all around him, the horses were screaming, kicking at the doors of their stalls, tossing their heads, and rolling their eyes in terror. The fire had started at the back of the stables, so that was where Rohan started. One bucket of water wasn't going to do much, so he threw it over one of the horses. It stood shocked for a couple of seconds. Rohan tore off one of his sleeves, and tied it over the horse's eyes, then led the horse out of the stables, quickly. The fire was spreading too fast to get all the horses out in this way, however, so Rohan opened the gates to their stalls, and let them find their own way out. All but two of them did, and one of those was dead, killed by a falling beam. Rohan went back for the last horse, with another bucket of water. She was shaking her head and thrashing about, and as he looked closer, Rohan realized that her bridle was caught on the latch of her stall's gate. He threw the water over her, dropped the bucket, and covered her eyes with the sleeve, then worked her bridle free. She tossed her head, free at last, and in the process, the blindfold came off her eyes. She reared, frightened of the flames, and knocked Rohan into the stall across from hers as she fled. He landed on a pile of burning straw, and rolled off of it quickly, beating out the flames that had nested in the fabric of his tunic, perhaps on a dry spot. There was an ominous groaning sound from overhead, and the central beam splintered in two in a shower of sparks and embers, raining the remainder of the roof down onto stable floor. Rohan wasn't hit by the beam, but now he was trapped inside the stables, unless he wanted to walk over the flames. He didn't. Cursing himself for not taking the time to collect his boots, Rohan attacked the outside wall behind him, and it gave, already damaged wattle and daub construction no match for the fury of a prince. Rohan squeezed through the opening he'd created, and fell out onto the muddy ground outside. He sat there for a moment, then realized his tunic was on fire again, near the right side of his chest. He stripped the tunic off and threw it away, then examined his skin underneath the burned place. It wasn't even RED. He felt the unmarked skin with his fingers, in disbelief. Nothing. The fire had done NOTHING to him. Rohan picked up his tunic again, gingerly, for part of it was still burning, and put his hand up to the tiny flames, ready to pull back at any moment. It hurt like anything, and he dropped the tunic with a yelp. Feeling rather sheepish, Rohan set to work quieting the still-panicked horses in the courtyard.
