Goodnight
Ged was happy.
His men lazed about in the meadow by the windmill, occasionally drinking or speaking, but mostly just enjoying the feeling of being alive in the springtime. Winter in Ireland was always a harsh thing, yet France, or at least the south of the kingdom, seemed blessed with kinder winds and gentler seasons.
The fighting was over. It had been over, truth be told, almost before they had arrived in the area. Toulouse welcomed them with open arms regardless, and they had spent a pleasurable week wandering the land, ecstatically idle in the way only old men and young children can be.
They had done much together, these fellows. Many of them had been with Ged since the beginning, or shortly thereafter. But many were northerners, of Ulster, of Dublin. A few even kept to the old pagan ways, which their king and commander abided with humour.
They were good men. They had borne him on their backs a thousand times, and he them. In truth he was well pleased with the world, and all that was in it, and all that had come to pass in his life. In the beginning, he was a man amongst many. A petty king to be sure, but petty. Uncommonly strong, and possessing a spark of genius that many called madness, he had worked his way through guile and luck to the top.
And now here he was. His brothers in arms basking in the French sun. A loving wife, and most beloved Queen, awaiting his return. Oh…when he was young, he had not ever suspected the joy that was coming his way when he spied and signed her name for a compact. It was no romantic affair, but she seemed determined to make it such.
And, as in much that she tried, she succeeded. She was no warlock, he knew. She had no magic, other than love, and a keen mind. Mind! They both shared a love of the body that had caused no shortage of outrage amongst the clergy, and bountiful seedlings to grow.
He had no complaints. His children were beautiful. All of them. Ged loved them all, dearly. Even Brian, who waved at him from the other side of the field. Brian had been there since the beginning too. Before Urraka. Before Ireland. Before…even the spark of madness arose within. Despite his rough edges, and his failings, and his flaws, and their somewhat combative history, he was proud of his firstborn. Of all his children, except perhaps John-Paul, he was the most well-rounded, and he had done that himself.
Ged smiled down at Brian as he ambled past, following a butterfly out of the meadow and up the hill. Yes, he thought suddenly. Yes, he was satisfied Brian would be alright.
He would be king hereafter, and Ireland would be better for it. No other had a chance of resolving the issues of the day. Standing up to England. Corralling the family in his absence.
Ged sighed, at the climb that made his joints ache ever so slightly more than they had yesterday, and at the future. It was true, he knew, that trouble might lie ahead for the kingdom. His love might be boundless, but his lands were not. One son per county was a recipe for calamity. He knew it. Brian knew it. But Brian was clever. And strong, judging by his impressive left-hook. Ged tapped the side of his head.
The little shit remembered how to throw a punch. All well and good.
He reached the top of the hill, and the butterfly, impressed by his efforts, fluttered down next to him on some unknown flower sprouting from the virgin earth. From his seat, he surveyed the majesty of the world. It was beautiful. The breeze carried a hint of bread, blossom, fire and water. The sun was warm, but not overly so. The grass was as green as any Irishman could wish.
Ged was happy.
From within his light doze, he heard a whisper on the wind. He flicked his ear, and breathed out slowly. The birds chirped in the tree just behind him.
The wind spoke again, and Ged opened his eyes, for he heard his own name.
“Ged…Murchad, do you know me?”
He looked around and saw nothing, so he answered no. And yet…
“Yes, my lord. I know you.”
How could he not? It was he, that had trod by him for far too many years. He who had nudged him into that marriage contract. He whom had shown him the way.
…he whom had said all those drinking holidays were a great idea.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The ghost chuckled and the sound slowly centred on Ged’s right, as if someone or something had sat down next to him.
“That’s gratitude for you.”
“Oh fuck off. Even if you were a pretty damn good guardian angel, I guess.” Ged stroked his beard and frowned. “How much of…everything, how much of that was me?”
“Mostly you,” the voice said. “I’m not so enamoured with you that I puppet-mastered your whole life. Point of fact, I only showed up-”
“Just before it all started to go right. Yeah, that’s why I asked.”
“What do you want to hear? Yes, I manipulated a shit ton of stuff behind the scenes. I even dressed you once or twice, though the green colour was your choice. Honestly though, you mostly did stuff, and I played with it.”
“How comforting.” Ged shifted. “It occurs to me that I wasn’t the best Christian.”
“Like I care? And you weren’t dreadful. Only one ethnic cleansing to your name and you only
implied you wanted the problem dealt with. Your bagmen are sadistic buggers.”
“Shit…you aren’t an angel are you.”
“Nope.”
“The other side then?”
“Nope. Although speak of the devil-” the voice paused and suddenly a loud squeal and screech broke the peaceful afternoon air. A bulky metal cage plopped down in front of Ged. Inside was a large and very angry looking white rabbit with red eyes. Ged looked around in confusion but snapped back to the rabbit when it began swearing almost incomprehensible filth out of its tiny mouth.
“Quiet you,” the voice said smugly. “That little bastard is
PTM. And it has been the devil incarnate on your whole life. Set you up to be a twisted little toy in the hands of evil and nasty monsters such as I.”
Ged recoiled mentally at the implicit and existential horror, nay, nightmare, this creature was suggesting. Was his whole life merely a game to be played by such beings of bizarre and unworldly…he didn’t even know how to describe them. Spirits? Demons? They seemed to speak as if they were beyond the world itself, beyond Ged and even Ged’s God.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, it was a thundering nuisance, I’m sure. Horrible nuisance for you. So, when I found out what they’d cooked up, I decided to…intervene. You were always supposed to break out of Munster, defeat the other Irish lords. Become king. The helping you out part? Was my idea.”
“So…why? What happens now?”
“Well, you lived your life, didn’t you?
PTM here played their tricks. You got out of them, mostly unscathed. You were happy. So was everyone else we collectively could reach. Not too shabby at all, my friend. You’re still dammed, of course. I can’t stop others picking you up and throwing you away.
PTM did their work well, and you service their needs. But I hope I made this life as pleasant as possible.”
“The…nightmare, it never ends, right?”
“It might, one day. When my kind gets bored and discards you for something else. But there’s always the chance of resurrection, and the whole thing starting again. You lead a doomed existence, Ged. Nothing to do about it but confront that. Own it. Go back to the rock and push it up the hill, with a smile.”
“Sounds like gobshite to me.”
“Well, you have a long time to learn to accept it.”
“And why are you here now? Couldn’t you have waited till I was on my deathbed?”
The voice was silent, but soft hands caught Ged’s body as the king realised.
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“I’m dying very soon then?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the precise time. I would have brought you back to Dublin.”
Ged sighed. “I would have liked one last talk with Urraka and the rest.”
“You left nothing unsaid. I know that, at least.”
“True.”
Ged stared up at the clouds pass him them by. If he were honest, this was not a terrible place to die. He had seen far worse places. Boys put down in the mud. Criminals hung at the stock. Lost at sea, that was probably the worst.
“You still there?”
“Of course.”
“So…right, so Brian is going to be king after me?”
“That is what you indicated. Eventually. Trust me, I debated it as much as you did.”
“I just can’t see Ged Junior doing a good job. And, he’d hate it anyway. Still, I hope he doesn’t do anything foolish.”
The voice was silent.
“What do you know?”
“Many things. It will not be easy for Brian. But you knew that.”
“I do not regret my children. Any of them.”
“Just so. But your lands will be a mess for a while afterwards.”
“But you can help him, right?”
“…excuse me?”
“I said, Brian’ll have you to help him. So, he’ll be fine, eventually.”
“I…if that is your wish, I’m sure I could pop in on him from time to time.”
“You can’t just…do the same thing you did for me?”
“One time only. He’d have to open himself up to it. And I’m not sure he knows how.”
“Ah.” Shit. That was a shame, Ged thought. And yet, he could be his own man far better than Ged ever was allowed to.
“And what happens to me now?”
“When you die?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t quite know. I suppose you go back and do it all again with some other sap telling you what to do. May or may not be better at it than me. Maybe they’ll force you to be naked all the time. Maybe they’ll kill you quickly to get at your son. There’s all sorts of things that could happen.”
“Sounds awful.”
“It does. I don’t suppose…well, I may have a solution to that, for a while at least.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. If I’m going to be sticking around helping out your family, I could use your spirit as a go-between.”
“What, so I’d haunt my own family?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Not sure who would be able to see you, or when you’d be able to manifest a presence. But it would be an extra layer of insurance, I suppose. They might be more likely to listen to you than me.”
“My choices aren’t amazing. Disembodied spirit, or constantly reborn plaything.”
“You’ll make do. How about it?”
Ged drew a deep shuddering breath. His last, he realised.
“Sure, why not?”
He watched, horrified, when later that evening Brian found his corpse. His heart broke for the poor boy, who sobbed and clutched at his body like a child anew.
“Promise me he’ll be alright. That they’ll all be alright.”
He whispered to the winds; his own voice now quieter than a human could ever hear.
“I promise, always and forever, to do my best.”
The spirit’s voice was now much louder and all-encompassing, deeper than the sea and wider than the night sky.
“I do as well. They shall always have help, for those that ask.” Ged promised, as his-Brian’s men, wept openly and shouldered his body on their shields.
“Come then. Life goes on.” The voice chuckled again.
“No rest for the wicked.”
The END
