My son won’t stop dueling people. It’s Earl Muiredach who brought it to my attention, both his pride and his arm wounded. “He turned up at my doorstep and challenged me in front of everyone,� he growls. “I had no choice to accept.�
I sit on my throne and ponder what to do with Brian, my unruly heir. Dueling my vassals simply won’t do. My grip on the Irish throne is tenuous enough as it is. Brian’s stubborn though, and ordering him to cease might not accomplish much.
There’s only one course of action, really. “Pah! Your father will show you how it’s done.� I stand and heft my sword, veteran of dozens of sieges, and I kick my son’s ass. The duels stop. My son never speaks to me again—and a few months later, he dies. Was illness the cause, as the doctors claimed? Or embarrassment?