Chapter 5- An Heir problem. And the Whales

We marched into Caledonia fully expecting a massive armed resistance by the whales. Instead, we were actually welcomed by the Caledonians. Also, I must point out that there are no whales. Apparently, the area is called “Wales,” not “Whales.” Silly me, to think that there were whales all the way in peaceful Caledonia!
They were so kind to us that King Barae actually let them rule themselves, though they would have to pledge allegiance and pay taxes.
They agreed, and their client ruler was a man named Balyn.


After the client ruler was settled in, King Barae took us home.


When we got home, Barae got the surname “Bren.” This means “High King” in our language, only given to a king when he would rule all of Briton (not including Ireland).

Now that Bren Barae was now in his late thirties, he had to look for an heir to his throne. The Bren did not have to do this just yet, but he wanted to get it over with, as well as take the heir with him on his eventual conquest of Ireland.
Bren Barae had two sons and two daughters. Mowg and Massorias were the sons; Andoran and Ishi were the daughters (both were very beautiful). Both of the daughters were married to good men.
Bren Barae had a difficult decision to make. Neither of his sons were intelligent, but were decent leaders of men. But the two sons-in-laws were brilliant in both mind and leadership, but a bit lazy.
In the end, he named as his heir the husband of Ishi, Cynan.


Almost immediately after the decision, Massorias and Mowg demanded why neither of they were chosen. After all, they were his actual sons.
Mowg spoke first.
“Father, many years ago when you first became King, you sat us down on your lap and told us one day we would be kings.”
Bren Barae replied:
“So? Times have changed; I decided to pick someone else.”
Then Massorias spoke.
“We are true Casse!”
“You two really haven’t done your homework, haven’t you? Cynan is also a true Casse. In fact, his father and I went to school together.”
Mowg spoke up again.
“But I am a well established leader!”
“Oh please— only of the London gangs.”
“Still, a leader all the same. And what does Cynan spend his time doing? Leading? No! He sits at home, studying history and law!”
“Thank you for making my point, Mowg. He is well educated. You two, on the other hand, are just bloody idiots. Did you really think that sabotaging the soap maker’s hut would do anything useful? Now then, I will address you each personally, starting with you, Mowg.


Let’s look at your traits. You are dull in mind, and while you are charismatic, you have a weak spirit. You like fighting, but that’s pretty much it. And you have a freaking witch following you around!”
“How dare you! She’s a nice lady!”
“You are nothing like me, so tell me, why should I choose you as an heir to my throne? Now then, on to you, Massorias.”


“Massorias, you are the last person I would want leading this kingdom. Granted, you do make a decent mayor of Baraeville, but you have major faults. You are lazy, you take bribes, and I question your loyalty to me. You have a witch following you around as well. Not to mention, you are an exceptionally poor commander. In short, not a good choice. Cynan was the best choice I had, and if someone better comes along, I will make this lucky fellow my heir instead of Cynan, trust me on this.
My sons, both of you should know that I love both of you, but I only want the best for this kingdom.”
“We’re not even a true kingdom. We’re a Constitutional Monarchy.”
“Oh shut up Mowg, you know what our father is talking about,” snapped Massorias.
“Now both of you leave, I need to begin preparations for the invasion of Ireland.”

And thus ended the debate over who would be the next Bren of the Casse.

Bren Barae returned to his army in the Midlands. What he found greatly disappointed him. Half of his slingers (not Kyros don’t worry) had deserted, as well as the fighting Druids and some of the Southland warriors.
Our Bren demanded the reason from the officers.
“Sir, most of them are terrified of the Irish. They have heard stories of the Irish, of how they cannot be subjugated, and how they hide in the trees, kidnapping Britons and eating their brains. We tried our hardest, Sir, to make them stay, but it was hopeless, they are that petrified.”
“And the Druids?”
“Well, they just don’t want to lose their drug provider, who refuses to step foot into Ireland.”
“Crud, this is going to be harder than I thought. Get a recruiting team into Caledonia; see if some of them are willing to follow us into Ireland, I'm going to try to raise some moral amongst our men.”

As Bren Barae walked amongst his men, calming nerves and speaking only words of encouragement, I couldn’t help but think of what lies in the wild realm of Ireland.