Leinster, 1399-1411. Part 1: The reign of Art I.
The Irishman raises his glass. "For Eire!"
~*~*~
Leinster, October 1399.
Driven by his wish to realize his father’s dream, a large part of Art’s reign was dedicated to prepare his country for the planned conquest. After 24 long years of kissing ass and raising an army, the time had finally come. Today, the 14th of October 1399, he received word from the Royal Court of Denmark. His efforts were finally paying off.
“My lord.” The messenger bowed before him. “I bring you a message from the Danish Royal Court.”
“Perfect.” Art smiled. “Tell them we will need their help soon.” Even though he knew the Danish help wouldn’t be for free, he was grateful for it. This enabled him to start what he had been preparing for so long. With a gesture of his hand, he dismissed the Danish messenger. Then he called forth three of his own messengers. His smile widened into a grin. No longer would he have to be kind to his fellow Irish Kings. With Denmark as his ally, they would be no match for him.
“It’s time. Go to the Kingdoms of Munster, Connacht and Tyrone, and give their ‘Kings’ this message.” He paused, snickering. “Tell those sons of whores that I am the one true King of Eire, and that if they won’t give up their false thrones willingly, I will come and claim them. Personally. Got that?”
The three messengers nodded in response and set out, all carrying the same message.
Art smiled contently. Soon, he would march with his armies, to conquer the Irish lands, and none of them would be able to stop him.
A month later, on the 17th of November, the messengers returned. “They will not yield, my lord.”
“Good.” Art replied. “Tell the bastards of Munster and Connacht that they will see me soon. Tyrone will be dealt with later.” Sending the messengers off, he beckoned at another servant to get him his armour and horse.
‘It’s time, father.’ he thought, preparing to leave. ‘After this, Leinster will rule most of Eire.’
Winter came and it was at the start of January of the year 1400 that Art led his army onto the plains surrounding the capital of Munster. He was tired and scarred from the many fights they had fought to get there. In front of them waited what was left of Munster’s main army. He smiled contently to himself, looking upon his enemy. So far, this war had been much easier than he had expected. Fear for his army had spread across the whole of Eire. Also, his ally Denmark had answered his call and attacked Connacht while he was fighting Munster. It all went perfectly according to plan.
His gaze turned to his own troops, waiting eagerly for his sign. His smile widened and he screamed. “For Eire!” He charged forward. His troops followed closely, storming towards the enemy. The armies clashed in the centre of the battlefield. Before long it was clear that Art’s troops were the strongest, and the enemy started to retreat. Some fled into the city, others into the forests. Victorious, Art gave the order to set up camp and prepare for the siege.
Only a few days after his great victory, Art got dreadful news. Some of the survivors of the battle invaded his Leinster, and were sieging his capital. He gritted his teeth. Leaving a siege force behind, he took two thousand men back to Leinster, to defeat that pesky army of Munster once and for all.
Beating Munster wasn’t hard, and it was good to be home for a while. Art pondered the situation and changed his original strategy. Reports on the siege of Munster told him it was progressing slowly, and other reports told him the Danish needed help in Connacht. He would go for Connacht first, and Tyrone was second on his list.
On his way to the city of Connaught, Art got the message that Scotland had inherited Brittany, and that Brittany’s alliances had been dissolved. He grinned. “Declare war on Tyrone. Now.” he ordered one of his messengers. “The time is right.”
It didn’t take long for the combined forces to obliterate Connacht’s army. The siege in Munster dragged on, and there was no more real resistance in both Kingdoms. Fourteen months after the original declarations of war, the city of Connaught fell to its knees, begging for peace. Mercilessly, Art claimed the throne of Connacht as his own. He would be the one ruler of Eire, this was only the beginning. On the 17th of February of the year 1401, the terms were accepted.
Immediately after the signing of the treaty, Art left for Tyrone. He met no resistance, and his troops marched on Ulster.
On the 7th of April, Munster fell, only a month after Connaught, and surrendered. Here too, the harsh peace terms were accepted, expanding the borders of the Kingdom of Leinster further.
Finally, exactly a year after the fall of Munster, on the 6th of April 1402, Tyrone had no choice but to yield to Art’s terms. Leinster was the only Irish Kingdom left.
~*~*~
Art felt old and tired, but content. Within the span of two years, he had managed to conquer all the other, the false Irish Kingdoms, and unite most of Eire under Leinster’s banner.
However, he didn’t get the time to enjoy his victories. On the 9th day after signing the last treaty, Art lost himself in the celebrations. After downing 5 bottles of whiskey, he stood up and waved goodbye to the celebrating people in the tavern. He took two steps, and then crashed onto the solid floor, for no apparent reason. At first, there was laughter. The King obviously had had too much to drink. Then someone kicked Art in his side. There was no reaction, not even so much as a sigh. The room went silent as it became clear that Art had, literally, dropped dead.
The Irishman raises his glass. "For Eire!"
~*~*~
Leinster, October 1399.
Driven by his wish to realize his father’s dream, a large part of Art’s reign was dedicated to prepare his country for the planned conquest. After 24 long years of kissing ass and raising an army, the time had finally come. Today, the 14th of October 1399, he received word from the Royal Court of Denmark. His efforts were finally paying off.
“My lord.” The messenger bowed before him. “I bring you a message from the Danish Royal Court.”
“Perfect.” Art smiled. “Tell them we will need their help soon.” Even though he knew the Danish help wouldn’t be for free, he was grateful for it. This enabled him to start what he had been preparing for so long. With a gesture of his hand, he dismissed the Danish messenger. Then he called forth three of his own messengers. His smile widened into a grin. No longer would he have to be kind to his fellow Irish Kings. With Denmark as his ally, they would be no match for him.
“It’s time. Go to the Kingdoms of Munster, Connacht and Tyrone, and give their ‘Kings’ this message.” He paused, snickering. “Tell those sons of whores that I am the one true King of Eire, and that if they won’t give up their false thrones willingly, I will come and claim them. Personally. Got that?”
The three messengers nodded in response and set out, all carrying the same message.
Art smiled contently. Soon, he would march with his armies, to conquer the Irish lands, and none of them would be able to stop him.
~*~*~
A month later, on the 17th of November, the messengers returned. “They will not yield, my lord.”
“Good.” Art replied. “Tell the bastards of Munster and Connacht that they will see me soon. Tyrone will be dealt with later.” Sending the messengers off, he beckoned at another servant to get him his armour and horse.
‘It’s time, father.’ he thought, preparing to leave. ‘After this, Leinster will rule most of Eire.’
~*~*~
Winter came and it was at the start of January of the year 1400 that Art led his army onto the plains surrounding the capital of Munster. He was tired and scarred from the many fights they had fought to get there. In front of them waited what was left of Munster’s main army. He smiled contently to himself, looking upon his enemy. So far, this war had been much easier than he had expected. Fear for his army had spread across the whole of Eire. Also, his ally Denmark had answered his call and attacked Connacht while he was fighting Munster. It all went perfectly according to plan.
His gaze turned to his own troops, waiting eagerly for his sign. His smile widened and he screamed. “For Eire!” He charged forward. His troops followed closely, storming towards the enemy. The armies clashed in the centre of the battlefield. Before long it was clear that Art’s troops were the strongest, and the enemy started to retreat. Some fled into the city, others into the forests. Victorious, Art gave the order to set up camp and prepare for the siege.
Only a few days after his great victory, Art got dreadful news. Some of the survivors of the battle invaded his Leinster, and were sieging his capital. He gritted his teeth. Leaving a siege force behind, he took two thousand men back to Leinster, to defeat that pesky army of Munster once and for all.
Beating Munster wasn’t hard, and it was good to be home for a while. Art pondered the situation and changed his original strategy. Reports on the siege of Munster told him it was progressing slowly, and other reports told him the Danish needed help in Connacht. He would go for Connacht first, and Tyrone was second on his list.
On his way to the city of Connaught, Art got the message that Scotland had inherited Brittany, and that Brittany’s alliances had been dissolved. He grinned. “Declare war on Tyrone. Now.” he ordered one of his messengers. “The time is right.”
It didn’t take long for the combined forces to obliterate Connacht’s army. The siege in Munster dragged on, and there was no more real resistance in both Kingdoms. Fourteen months after the original declarations of war, the city of Connaught fell to its knees, begging for peace. Mercilessly, Art claimed the throne of Connacht as his own. He would be the one ruler of Eire, this was only the beginning. On the 17th of February of the year 1401, the terms were accepted.
Immediately after the signing of the treaty, Art left for Tyrone. He met no resistance, and his troops marched on Ulster.
On the 7th of April, Munster fell, only a month after Connaught, and surrendered. Here too, the harsh peace terms were accepted, expanding the borders of the Kingdom of Leinster further.
Finally, exactly a year after the fall of Munster, on the 6th of April 1402, Tyrone had no choice but to yield to Art’s terms. Leinster was the only Irish Kingdom left.
~*~*~
Art felt old and tired, but content. Within the span of two years, he had managed to conquer all the other, the false Irish Kingdoms, and unite most of Eire under Leinster’s banner.
However, he didn’t get the time to enjoy his victories. On the 9th day after signing the last treaty, Art lost himself in the celebrations. After downing 5 bottles of whiskey, he stood up and waved goodbye to the celebrating people in the tavern. He took two steps, and then crashed onto the solid floor, for no apparent reason. At first, there was laughter. The King obviously had had too much to drink. Then someone kicked Art in his side. There was no reaction, not even so much as a sigh. The room went silent as it became clear that Art had, literally, dropped dead.
And so the reign of Art I, King of Leinster, ended on the 15th of April, 1402, in a tavern somewhere in Ulster.
His last thoughts: "That was one hell of a strong whiskey."
Art I left a partially united Eire to his son, Art II.
His last thoughts: "That was one hell of a strong whiskey."
Art I left a partially united Eire to his son, Art II.
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