The Fall of Kardune

In the peaceful kingdom of Kardune, the great king Cadeyrn and his queen Camilla prepared to welcome their child into the world on a dark and cold winter night. The castle was caught in a whirlwind of activity as the maids scurried to gather bedding, water, and other things they needed for safe delivery. The king paced back and forth in front of the bed-chamber door, anxiously awaiting news of his beloved and his heir. The door burst open, Cadeyrn snapped his head up as the harried midwife hurried out, muttering to herself and shaking her head about madly as she went. With growing concern, King Cadeyrn rushed into the chamber to find his wife cradling not one, but two boys. One had shining blonde hair and the other had hair as black as coal.

"That madwoman warned of great evil, said it was a dark omen that we had twins of opposite hair color. She wanted to kill them both to avert catastrophe, I offered her a lifetime in the prisons of unspeakable torment if she didn't take her leave with her superstitions immediately," Camilla greeted her husband darkly. "Nevermind her, however, we have been blessed with two beautiful children, we have our health and a kingdom to look after."

------

As the years passed, the boys grew each day in body and mind as they learned reading, writing, arithmetic, swordplay, the dance of the political world, and other things they would need to know to one day become a great king as their father was. They knew only one could be king, the other would remain as the prince so each was driven to out learning the other. Standing tall at twenty winters old, the young men faced apprehension at their coming birthday the next day.

"Father will be naming his heir at dinner this evening, are you nervous?" mischievously handsome Brennus asked he swept his thick blonde hair back and tied it with a ribbon.

"Why should I be? We both know father will choose you as his heir, you have the favor of the people. They seem to fear me for reasons I can't begin to comprehend," Ninian replied indifferently, adjusting his formal dress clothes. They were a bit small, but Cadeyrn had insisted. "The people treat you with reverence, they act like I may order them beheaded."

Flicking his eyes towards the door, Brennus inched towards his brother. "I think I may know why that is. The night we were born, the midwife said one of us would be the harbinger of death and destruction. The maids' tongues do wag if you know how to coax them," Brennus half whispered with a chuckle.

"Oh please, you don't believe that hogwash, do you? Superstitious nonsense, nothing more," Ninian scoffed. "The cook used to call me 'the cursed child' until Mother caught on to her doing it and had her flogged. Still gives me the stink eye, as if it's my fault, but that story is hardly a secret, you don't need to whisper." Moving to the mirror, Ninian tucked his fly-away strands behind his ears, nodded to himself, and moved towards the door. "Come, Mother and Father will be waiting for us, let us see if he names you his heir this night."

The two brothers walked shoulder to shoulder down the long hall towards the grand dining hall, colorful tapestries adorned the walls blocking out some of the chill drafts that radiated on the evening air. The walk was tense and the only sound was the echoes of their boots on the stone floor, the brothers' only perceived shared trait was being twins. They differed in every other regard from interests to beliefs on how the kingdom should proceed in the future so there was little for them to discuss. Servants opened the doors to the dining hall as they approached, upon reaching the long table in the center of the hall they went to their separate ways to be seated at their respective places at the table on the far end near the head of the table.

Cadyern waited until both of his sons were settled, then took his first bite, signaling they may begin to eat as well. The course of dinner and dessert was a silent affair, although Cadyern kept his eyes locked on his plate his sons stole glances at him and each other but didn't dare to speak. Wiping his face clean with his napkin, Cadyern cleared his throat as he stood and walked over to the ornamental fireplace, staring at the flames deep in thought. Sensing Brennus and Ninian standing quietly behind him, he turned and looked at both of them for a long moment.

"My sons, I am getting along in years. My time on the throne is short, but I am struggling to convince myself either of you is ready for the responsibilities of the crown. It is therefore with a heavy heart that I find that I must tell you both that I will remain as king until such time that I pass or one of you proves you are ready to rule with a level head and the people are ready to follow your lead," Cadyern spoke slowly as if he found the words bitter on his tongue.

"What is this Father? What do you mean neither of us is ready? We were thrust into the teachings of ruling this kingdom since before we could talk! Now you say this?" Brennus spat in disgust. Ninian glared at his father and brother in a silent rage, then stalked out of the room without a word.

"I have spoken and as the reigning king, my word is LAW," returned Cadyern, he had expected resistance from both of his sons, he was thankful it was only one. "Return to your chambers at ONCE before I send for the guards! Get OUT of my sight! NOW!"

Spinning on his heel and muttering angrily under his breath, Brunnus stomped out of the hall, shoving a servant out of the way so he could slam the door behind him in a show of anger. Shaking his head, Cadyern turned back to stare at the fire before retiring for the evening.

---

The castle was in an uproar the next morning, King Cadyern was found dead with his head hanging on the wall like a stuffed deer. Queen Camilla held court, to sort out the culprit of such a horrible crime. "I wish to believe it was a scoundrel trying to frame one of my boys, but the evidence is pointing one or both of you. Have you anything to say in your defense?"

"Father called us to dine with him late last eve, he had angered us both, 'tis true, but when I know he was still alive when Brunnus left last night, his remains were found in his bed-chamber after all. A chamber which we have only the slightest notion of where it might be, that part of the castle has always been off-limits to us. I would reverse the accusation dear Mother, how do we know it wasn't you? Isn't your chambers somewhere close to Father's?" Ninian returned, cold and calculating. An uproar from onlookers erupted as Camilla sat up straighter in her chair in disbelief at the sudden accusation. Calls for quiet rang out from guard all over the throne room, a couple of stones skittered across the floor near Ninian's feet in a poor attempt to sneak attack him from the crowds.

"How DARE you make a mockery of this? Your father lies slain, this house is in disorder and you dare refute accusations made against you with a jest?" Camilla spat in disdain.

"Oh no Mother, I don't jest. Why should we prove our innocence when it is you who stands more to gain from his death? Father told us last night that he would remain king until such time that one of us was ready to rule or his death. Thinking back on all of those seemingly pointless lessons throughout the years, I seem to recall something along the lines of 'Upon the death of the King, the crown falls to his Queen unless he has declared an heir, publicly or privately, which must be proven through the appropriate documents signed by the King'. So you see, you stand to gain the most from his death, either of us could have attempted to lie about last night but without the documents, it would have been voided out," Ninian stood his ground, Challenging Camilla to a battle of wits.

"Mother loved Father, you dolt. Motivation is naturally a key point to look at in any crime, however, personal gain isn't always the thing that drives the motive of the culprit. Crimes of passion happen far more frequently. I had words with Father last night, I shoved a servant to slam the door, but as I have an alibi that is five foot four, blonde and beautiful, I believe you'll find that I was caught in the throes of another sort of passion until the wee hours of this morning," Brunnus spoke up, seemingly bored as his words caused many in the room shift about uncomfortably.

"Brunnus, we do NOT need to hear about your bedroom conquests, regardless of the reason. A simple 'I was in the company of another' would have been sufficient," Camilla reprimanded him.

"Sorry Mother, but it does clear my name. What better evidence is there of innocence than what I presented?" Brunnus yawned. "May I go now? Or do I need to attend this entire trial even after proving my innocence?"

"I am about to exile you both from this kingdom, "growled Camilla, growing rather tired of the attitude from both of her sons. "You both have twenty-four hours to gather evidence on your behalf, we shall reconvene at this time again tomorrow. DISMISSED!" Practically flying out of her seat, the widow stalked out of the room to her chambers leaving everyone in her wake more distraught and confused than they were before.

---

Assembled in the throne room the following day, people milled about anxiously. The queen was late, an attendant was sent to check on her, and was due back at any time. The great doors burst open and the fearful servant was screaming "DEAD! THE QUEEN IS DEAD!" at the top of his lungs for all to hear. Panic and suspicion spread like wildfire through the hall, Brunnus jumped on a bench so people could see him better.

"PEOPLE! PEOPLE! We have a murderer in our midst, I thought I saw a cloaked figure scaling the tower late last night by the light of the moon, but my view was obscured when a cloud floated by. I shrugged it off, believing it was nothing more than a figment of my imagination! Now I am forced to reconsider. I believe it could have been Ninian, as quick as he was to try to pin our father's murder on our mother yesterday!" Brunnus crowed, pointing at his brother.

"NO! I didn't kill Mother! You have no evidence of that or anything else, just speculation! You may well be making up this-" Ninian's protests were drowned out by the cries of fear and rage from the growing mob, calls for his immediate execution were echoed and grew more intense as he turned to flee for his life. Brunnus slunk away to secure the crown for himself, this coup was far too easy.

------

Ninian panted hard, a stitch in his side from running so hard, blood running down his cheek from where a stone had struck him. Collapsing next to the tree on the hillside, he rested his eyes for a bit. Ninian had vague memories of playing next to this tree in his youth, the last time he was here Brunnus almost fell over the cliff edge while the family had a little picnic. If he could go back to that time, Ninian would kick that devious snake off the edge when he had a chance. The crown should be his, months of careful planning destroyed because his brother proved to be more cunning than he let on. Ninian picked himself up, dusted himself off, and started off to the north with only the clothes on his back and the sword at his side, his final thoughts as he walked into the forest leading to the wildlands were on vengeance.

------

Ten full years to the day of his successful coup, Brunnus was enjoying himself, he had wine, women, and songs nightly, the people weren't happy but they were content enough. Why should they complain? They had food, shelter, not to mention Brunnus no longer had people beheaded for the tiniest of crimes. The kingdom's coffers weren't suffering either, so he didn't have to impose heavy taxes for his drink, as long as the winery kept his cellars stocked that is. Life was just grand, anyone who disagreed was either killed or exiled ages ago. Brunnus was lazily being fed by a maiden as he did most days when a skittish chamberlain hesitantly approached.

"My lord, might we discuss the recent activity in the Northern forest? People are getting nervous with the recent lights in the nights," a chamberlain asked tentatively.

"Of course," Brunnus said standing up and walking over to the shaking man. "Right after you dislodge this." Brunnus deftly stabbed the man in the side, then sauntered back to his throne as the man dropped to his knees.

"M-m-my Lord, bands of Wildmen have been sp-sp-spotted among the t-t-trees..." the chamberlain collapsed to the floor, dead from the wound.

Brunnus sat at attention, glaring at the corpse on the floor. "Wildmen? Why would I care about 'Wildmen'? Those savages up north can't hold a candle to MY mighty armies. Your death was well earned for this insolence."

---

Ninian leaned against a tree, his coal-colored hair now streaked with silver. His fool of a brother is likely lounging on the throne right now, unaware of the presence in this forest. Ten long years of wandering, challenging petty chieftains, and killing them for control of their factions leading to this moment. Sometimes the factions themselves had to be destroyed, the members refused to bow to him as they agreed. His followers gleefully pounced from their hiding spaces to ambush the crowds that had encircled to murder him. Surrendering or captives wasn't a question at that point, they chose their fate when they joined the crowd, they were all crow feed and left as an example to the next tribe. Ninian had studied each tribe over the first year, carefully choosing which one to dominate first. He went with the weakest first, they toppled without much of a fight. Ninian walked straight into the camp, ran the petty king through, and declared himself the ruler, he would fight anyone who thought they could take him. They bowed on bended knee, trained hard under his banner for a year and the more ambitious challenged him for the title of king. Skulls and bones make for wonderful wind chimes, something about the sound is comforting and serves as a nice reminder of who is in charge. Taming the Wildmen took time, he taught them greatly how to fight and each tribe taught him in turn about their fighting style. By combining aspects from each style into one, Ninian found that the wildmen were dominated all the more quickly, moreover, he found that the Kardian fighting style was also quickly overpowered by the swift but powerful strikes of the combined styles. At daybreak tomorrow, the strike will commence, today they would scout to find a weak point for entry. There was an old tunnel that ran beneath the castle years back, they would start there.

---

Brunnus sat straight up in bed, fighting the bedsheets that entangled him for a bewildered moment trying to understand what was being shouted. "Wildmen! Wildmen have overrun us!" Sounds of metal clashing against metal and stone rang out amongst the battle cries and screams of agony and fear. Leaping out of bed and fully alert now, Brunnus quickly donned his clothes and grabbed his sword to join the fray. He cut down several Wildmen on his way to the throne room, knowing whom he would find there. Who else could have orchestrated so perfect of an assault? Brunnus threw the doors open and stepped inside.

The world seemed to hold its breath for the two men, one blonde and fuming in cold rage standing just inside the door, the other white-streaked raven black hair flowing over his fur coat perched on the throne like a bird of prey, waiting and watching. "You always did enjoy being fashionably late," Ninian sneered.

"You killed my people and you have the nerve to sully my seat with your muddy boots?" Brunnus returned with steely tones.

"Worry not dear brother, you have larger concerns than the mud," Ninian leaped towards his brother, landing deftly and walking slowly forward. "Before we end things, shall we clear up the events from ten years ago? Who killed who and the whys and all of that? I am genuinely curious."

Brunnus raised his bloodied sword, poised to strike and defend as he slowly circled with Ninian. "I don't how it matters, but alright. I killed Mother, you killed Father, and now, I shall kill you." Clang! Ninian deftly blocked the strike, without even breaking eye contact.

"No see, that is where you're wrong. Mother killed Father, I saw her do it. I was attempting to coerce her into being my puppet. You killed her instead, pinned that act on me, and assumed control of the kingdom yourself," Ninian countered, toying with his brother's flimsy swordplay and slicing his arm superficially in a show of superiority. "You're right however, it doesn't matter. I just needed the closure of knowing you are the one who did the deed of disposing of Mother and didn't have some lackey do it for you in an act of cowardice."

The two brothers continued to exchange swipes, punches, and kicks, neither willing to yield. Brunnus started to sway from fatigue, beads of sweat dotted his brow. "You-you POISONED ME?" Brunnus spat, feeling a burning sensation running through his veins as if his blood were made of oil.

"It won't kill you, my dear brother," Ninian sneered. "It will simply render you immobilized for a while. Long enough to put you in chains and secure you for your punishment. Death would be too good for you, I think you deserve to taste misery yourself. You and the people. You see, as long as your alive, and the people know that your alive, they will find hope. Pointless hope that will slowly be crushed daily, but that is their sentence. A kingdom requires people, mistreating your sovereign his entire life can't go unpunished.

Brunnus gathered his strength and threw everything he had into one final blow, sweat ran into his eyes but he felt the satisfying feeling of metal piercing flesh, after twisting his sword for good measure, he pulled his sword out. "That should teach you to bother a REAL man, brother!" Brunnus said with a half-laugh as he fell to a knee, struggling against the poison.

"Killing your favorite maid should teach me? Or perhaps she only thought she was your favorite. Either way, she fell by your sword," Ninian yawned. Brunnus froze at the sound of his brother's voice, wiped his eyes, and squinted to see through the pain. Ninian stood over the body of Opal, one of the few maids he had bothered to learn the name of. "Ironic, she rushed in here to shield you and ended up dying by your hand. Life is so funny at times."

Brunnus attempted to retort, staring at his brother hard but the poison had taken its toll, causing him to collapse on the floor. Ninian kicked his lifeless body in the ribs, turned, and approached the cord attached to the signal bell. He pulled on the rope hard, high overhead the bell clanged signaling that the battle was over. All over the castle Wildmen celebrated with cheers and roars of Ninian's name, the people of the kingdom cowered in fear. As much Hell as they endured during Brunnus' reign, they were at least accustomed to his cruelty.

---

Brunnus was eventually held in a glass bell within an iron cage in the center of town with a tunnel running under for food to be given once a day. The meal was typically leftover slop but it was enough to keep him alive. The people themselves were harassed by the Wildmen guardsmen, random raids during the night for contraband, insults, everything short of physical assault. Ninian didn't allow people to be physically harmed, it was the psychological warfare he was waging. He carefully chose his targets for the night raids, his array of spies was ever-growing. If he suspected a spy of being disloyal, he would assign five spies to them and if they were found to be guilty he would publicly execute them himself. The method varied, it always involved some fashion of humiliation, however. The most memorable in the minds of the people was when Ninian forced the traitor's son to choose between pissing upon his father's leg or the entire family joining the traitor. Those who tried to flee the kingdom were paraded through town naked pulling a cart while being whipped gleefully by the rider until they collapsed from exhaustion, then they were branded with a cowards' mark. Any who were caught attempting to flee a second time were locked in chains to do slave labor for a sentence of at least three years.

Ninian's reign would eventually end when his son drove a dagger through his heart while he slept, then poisoned his uncle's food to end his torment. Alexander would have been a good king, like his grandfather, if the people hadn't decided to kill him in fear of his family's ongoing evil deeds. Kardune fell to ruin shortly after, the people scattered across the lands to rebuild their lives.