Yargan was the biggest city north of Nara. Laying northwest of Lonely Mountain, the city was the seat of the House of Byrne, the founders of the Duchy of Keiss. The last of this rather short-lived house was Callum Byrne, also called Callum the Reckless. Trying to reach the sea, he was holding a campaign against the tribes of Falshiel, the frozen-land, when Warson razed Leira to the ground. “Loyalty with loyalty” he thought when Warson reached his borders few years later and rather than warring against him, Callum stepped out of the walls unarmed and handed him the keys to the city. “It’s an honour for me and my people to submit to your mighty empire, your highness” he said and smiled.
Warson? He really paid loyalty with loyalty. He graciously took the key and invited Callum to his royal tent. A cow was slaughtered in honour of the guest and wine was ordered. Then the three bottles were broken to pieces, Callum was wrapped in the hide of the newly slaughtered cow with the glass pieces between the two, and the man was fried over the fire together with the meat. Once his wicked soul left his body, he was fed to the imperial dogs.
How Callum, renown with his recklessness, decided to act such measuredly for the first and the last time in his short life surprised all. Indeed, not only him but each and every member of House of Byrne was famous with being ruthless and careless, as if the family enjoyed being so. Callum’s father, Owen, for example, liked to leash people and walk them around like dogs – and whip them before or after. Reason? He needed no reason.
How did they stay in power having no consent of the ordinary folk? Here comes their evil mind. What Byrnes could teach anyone and everyone was politics. They mastered the art of deception and trickery, to the extent that they could, had they the will, unite the north against south and do what Warson couldn’t. They were happy holding the land between the frozen-land and the river, there grew the best grapes in the world and cows that tasted tenfold better than the rest, and wine and meat was enough to keep them happy. A strange house, must be said, and all that came to know about them would agree.
Their absolute and wicked power kept Keiss in peace. When Callum was gone for good, together with the rest of his family, this power was handed to Warson himself. The emperor fancied the palace and decided to spend his summers there, making it also his second capital. Little changed for the people of Keiss – one madman was replaced by another, and neither let them enjoy even a moment of their lives.
When such absolute power perishes, an endless abyss vacuums everything inside. That’s what happened in Keiss too. With the death of the emperor and the leaving of many thousands of soldiers, Keiss suddenly found itself in anarchy. Clashes are bad, wars are worse, civil wars are the worst. Keiss found itself in civil war – and wasn’t alone at that.
Old habits took ground and tribes and clans fought one another, forcing half the population to either death or migration. Some went north and perished either at the hands of men or the nature. Some went east hoping for a better life, yet they found fighting there either. Some went west and restarted life there. But none went south. The land most suffered from the invasion found none daring enough to rekindle life in this abandoned piece of beauty.
Until Tolon was forced to.
