《Caladbohlg》


 Chapter 1: The Sea of Despair

    In a low valley, once stood a rundown if wizened old monastery devoted to the fair-haired song-goddess Brigantia. Located to the south-east of the Emerald Isle the roof gleamed despite the ashen appearance as the oak walls that held the roof were well-used. Always, it seemed as though the building, was on the cusp of collapse. The locality for her part was pressed in by a series of boggy swamps and farms save for on her eastern border. The reason dear Reader, was that it was there where the Geraintian Sea lay. This body of water tended to glitter in the morn and evenings due to the suns¡¯ light.


    Something which gave the monks no small amount of pleasure to look upon, when not preoccupied with other matters. To the monks, it represented little more than a beautiful sight, in contrast to how it was considered a mere century or two prior. At that time it was shuddered at, and looked away from, on account of countless Viking incursions in the area. So went the story that the monastery had been raided and sacked more than three times, for it was not until the rise of the B¨®ruma that she had ceased, to have reason to fear the sea. In more recent days some had begun to even consider it a possible alternative route from the land routes. This was because the armies of feudal chieftains discouraged travel, with the most notable and guilty of this sin, being the dread Laird of Amadan.


    To the younger monks of Brigantia, daydreams of the north road often times preoccupied their thoughts when not busy with their chores. It seemed to them, where adventure might well be found, and there was naught quite so tempting to an ¨¦riu-man or boy, as adventure.


    Or so many assumed, when they gave the decreased number of traveling merchants any thought at all. With those few merchants who passed by, every few years spreading ghost-stories of how those who dared to pass by or near to Amadan. So feared was this dread-laird that few spoke his name, or title aloud very often. The reason for this was simple; since nigh on a decade hence he had assumed an almost god-like status, in their minds. Not that he had ever bothered them, at least not directly. In fact the monks tended to worry more over troublesome local-boys, who spilled buckets, pans and beat one another up or tossed girls into the local well, for no apparent reason.


    The most troublesome of all these rapscallions, it must be said was a lad by the name of Brad¨¢n, whom had two particularly irritable habits in the eyes, of all the locals both monk and non-monk alike: The first being his habit of performing nasty pranks, when the mood o¡¯ertook him.


    The second reason they detested him so, was that he tended to disappear in such a manner that often sent the monks, most notably Brother Lyr, into a frenzy of panic whenever there was work, to be done. Most often, he tended to be found sitting by the beach or by the Dregg¨²n Woods playing his pipes (a gift from when he was four, from Lyr).


    At times, it seemed as though he were determined to confirm his reputation for rough-housing. He did so by frequently clashing with the neighbouring boys.


    A difficult child, even before the dislike towards him had reached the heights it had. In spite of this disdain for him, several monks and one or two of the boys clung to him all the more tightly. None clung to him more tightly though than young Colum, one of the rowdier if more adventurous youths.


    In particular, Lyr with his greying hair (hair which was growing increasingly thin) and sad grey eyes wrenched more pity than any other in the locality. He was known to consistently attempt again and again to the sympathy of those around him, to tame Brad¨¢n¡¯s spirit.


    ¡°Something must give out,¡± people were prone to grumbling over and over to themselves. They would mutter this on their way home from tilling the fields or working to chop lumber in the woods.


    ¡°Brother this shan¡¯t go on for much longer,¡± Lyr told the youth one day, worriedly after scraping, pleading and bowing for quite some time to the father of one of the neighbourhood boys, Brad¨¢n had given a blood beating to.


    ¡°He started it,¡± Brad¨¢n grumbled under his breath.


    ¡°You removed three of his teeth,¡± Lyr retorted wearily as he led the way back to the monastery.


    ¡°He threatened me-¡±


    ¡°The words of men spoken in a hot temper have no further value than their material wealth, when death comes for them.¡± Was the stern interruption from the old man, who recited one of his favourite passages from the Canticle (a passage the boy hated with a passion).


    ¡°Fine, be that way,¡± The boy condemned as he stood his ground.


    His stubborn stance drew from the old cook a heavy sigh, one that would have inspired remorse in any other boy.


    In defiance Brad¨¢n took off from his side. His younger healthier legs carrying him faster than Lyr¡¯s thin, old legs possibly could.


    His robe flapping about him, Brad¨¢n came to a halt before the river, intent upon being left alone. He knew that few treaded near the sea, save for a select few and they had recently been scared away. The reason for this unreasonable fear was entirely due to rumours of Northmen or monsters from the deep. Rumours he had spread himself, via Colum.


    To his annoyance, he discovered another person there seated in his favourite spot. Incensed by this, the boy reacted badly; charging the other boy who was doing little more than tossing rocks into the sea.


    ¡°Away from here, you knave!¡± Brad¨¢n shouted as he leapt onto the smaller boy whom he only now noticed in his fury, was also dressed in small brown robes.


    ¡°Brad¨¢n? Do stop hitting me!¡± Colum screeched his ears flattening onto his head, as he covered himself with his small hands, crying at the blows that rained down onto him.


    ¡°Do you understand how it is now? This is my spot.¡± The larger boy snapped, sitting on his desired spot as though it were a throne.


    Rubbing the back of his head, the small lad knew better than to fight back then. It was not always like this, as easily enraged as Brad¨¢n was he was at one time also fiercely, protective of his only friend. A Ratvian by birth, Colum had the grey fur, large dark eyes, buck teeth elongated snout and long nails, all so common amongst his people.


    There are many stories about how Ratvians came to be, it is said by those from North-Agenor, that Ratvians or Ravar-people were created by a combination of underground maggots coursing through Gaea¡¯s flesh. That they burst out when the wild magicks thrown about during the duel between Zeus and Roma tore open her flesh. Another theory was that Ratvians or cursed ones¡¯ as some on the Gernavian archipelago near Parmenia, called them, was originally humans who had sinned against the gods during the First War of Darkness. They were cursed it is said, for their betrayals of the gods.


    Still others believed them to have been created by Khnum near the dawn of time. Created before he had perfected his powers of creation enough, to create his finest creations; men (this was one of the Temple¡¯s favourite ideas).


    Brad¨¢n much as he was a bully by nature, had no serious compulsions against little Colum, a trait he shared with but a few of the people in the locality. A locality known to its inhabitants as the ¡®Cell-by-the-Sea¡¯, and had been established almost four hundred years hence.


    ¡°I was waiting for you,¡± Colum complained, only to ask with a thin thread of hope entering his voice, ¡°Do you want to play to-day?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Was the sullen answer.


    That put an end to any hope for a conversation for some time. After some time, the human boy who had passed the time, by tossing pebbles into the sea, looked to his friend.


    ¡°Colum how do you suppose you got here?¡± He asked quietly of his friend, unsure of what to do or say.


    ¡°Same way everyone else did, I suppose,¡± Colum replied confused.


    ¡°I suppose it is not important.¡± He said his shoulders now slumped, as they spoke a flock of ducks quacked and flapped their wings, only to dive into the water.


    ¡°Do you hear something?¡± Colum asked him, his ears standing on end on the top of his long-snouted head. ¡°It sounds strange, as though someone is¡­¡± He paused uncertainly.


    ¡°Is what?¡± Brad¨¢n was in the midst of saying something, only to stop as a loud wolf-like howl burst through the thin evening air.


    So bewildered were the two boys that they remained there, for quite some time. Trapped by the warring instincts to flee for the monastery, where they knew it to be safe or to stay where they were.


    ¡°What should we do?¡± Colum whispered to the older boy who was equally terrified and frozen where he stood.


    Swallowing his own fear, he said to his fellow prisoner of fear. ¡°I do not know but, I think, we should return to the monastery.¡±


    ¡°Y-yes o-of course,¡± Colum agreed his eyes wide with anxiety as he scurried after his friend. After swallowing audibly, he hurried behind him, up the path back to the temple where the monks were more than likely preoccupied, with the evening Sessions and prayers as it was Ziusday (the third day of the week).


    ¡°Hopefully we could slip by without anyone taking notice of either of us,¡± Brad¨¢n murmured as they moved past the various small huts made of straw and wood that pockmarked the landscape around the monastery.


    Colum nodded swiftly, as he followed him closely only to pale beneath his fur when they neared where Prior Brien stood proudly, aquiline nose high in the air. He stood before the doors to the temple, with his arms crossed.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Colum gasped breathlessly with his friend gulping also when he saw the scowl on Brien¡¯s old, thin face.


    ¡°Oh, indeed young Colum, come along,¡± Brien grunted with a raised brow that did little, to inspire love or hope in either of the youths.


    ¡°But, we had a good reason for our lateness!¡± The human boy said suddenly, lacking onto one last thread of hope; the howl by the beachside. ¡°There was this howl from near the sea.¡±


    ¡°More like a wail,¡± Colum corrected sagely.


    Clearly Brien did not believe them, if his expression was any indication to go by. He frowned unhappily at them, ¡°Then you two had best never go there again lads. Further you two will have to serve brother Lyr more closely in the kitchens, for the next three months, you will simply put clean the floors and altars every day, is that clear?¡±


    Both of the boys grumbled unhappily, with Brad¨¢n insisting stubbornly, ¡°But we really did hear something by the beach.¡±


    It was some time thereafter that he was to next tread anywhere near the sea, due to how busy the monks kept him. It was only be after the third night, after brother Lugh did his weekly singing of one of the many songs praising the valour of the High King Brad¨¢n the B¨®ruma.


    The song was one in the ancient tongue of the Romalian people, and detailed the heroics of the B¨®ruma, on one of his earlier adventures. Most notably, how he defied one of the last pretenders to the ancient Ui¡¯Athulf throne, slew a great Wyrm saved one of his children, only to later kill the pretender. The song though, did have a tragic ending, as it detailed the B¨®ruma¡¯s death at Cluain Giorria. The song was a favourite of Brad¨¢n¡¯s, it never failed to inspire him and enflame his soul.


    Taking to the beach of the Geraintian Sea, once there, he found nothing. Neither any hint of the cause of that sound nor anything of any real interest to him. Disappointed by this, he picked up a stick, and began to pretend to be a warrior from the B¨®ruma¡¯s court. It was not until he was finished attacking a tree near the beach.


    On his way back after all his games when he heard a sound, one he thought was the same as the wail but this time it was merely a single choked sound, followed by a loud cry.


    Looking about for the origin of the series of sobs that trickled his ears only to end up searching the area for the source of the noise, which he found behind a couple of trees. It was a woman.


    ¡®Is that not the widow R¨ªonal?¡¯ Brad¨¢n mused recognizing the plain-looking all but newly wedded young woman barely a decade older, than he. The widow of a local farmer by the name of Fionn¨¢n, she was now widely pitied throughout the local area.


    Quite the fall for a woman who had somehow managed to woo one of the more successful farmer-heirs. From what Brad¨¢n knew, R¨ªonal had married for love and had had a young daughter. Their daughter had fallen ill, at six months old only for her husband to leave for the north, to find medicine or a worthy physician. He had yet to return even after a year and a half, with his daughter dying five months after his departure, while his widow gossipmongers (such as Lyr) whispered that the shock had caused her to miscarry, a second child.


    She sobbed louder and louder, with more grief than he had ever thought anyone capable of. It was unsettling he thought, when she had finished, she looked about (Brad¨¢n had hidden himself behind a nearby tree) when satisfied no one was there, she hurried along back to the village. Unaware of the boy who headed back several minutes after the red-haired, tall black-robed woman.


    ¡°R¨ªonal? R¨ªonal! There you are, where have you been?¡± shrieked old Eibhlin, the old mother of Fionn¨¢n.


    ¡°Nowhere, Eibhlin,¡± The young woman replied softly.


    Scurrying along, having hidden more out of a mixture of fear and distaste for the lady Eibhlin who had made her own dislike for him known countless times. She had done so both with her cane and fists, and also by reporting the slightest oversight of his to brother Lyr, in the past.


    The rest of the day passed by for Brad¨¢n in a flurry of chores and contemplation the latter was focused, not around theological musings, but rather his new discovery. The monks breathed many sighs of relief at his sudden discrete change from rambunctiousness all of them convinced that this was a change for the better. In fact, Brien went so far as to congratulate Lyr for finally taming the boy¡¯s wayward spirit.


    ¡°I do not think much has changed only that something else has caught his attention and distracted him from the rest of us.¡± Lyr stated more astute than the others in regards to his charge. ¡°Mark me words he will be up to more mischief tomorrow.¡±


    Despite these negative words, Lyr approached him quietly with some trepidation in his eyes, without the boy noticing him.


    ¡°Hullo there Brad¨¢n, if I may could I have this seat?¡± He asked cautiously of the youth who nodded absently, Lyr took a seat upon the short stool next to Brad¨¢n who was sitting in the kitchens, cleaning dishes. ¡°I would like you to speak to me Brad¨¢n, you have yet to say a word all evening.¡±


    Brad¨¢n remained silent a heartbeat longer focused as he was on the large bowl, he was scrubbing only to pipe up almost shyly. ¡°Lyr, what do you know of the widow R¨ªonal?¡±


    ¡°Why do you ask?¡± The lad shrugged, ¡°Well, all I know is that some think her cursed,¡± Lyr said uncomfortably, eyeing the lad sharply he added, ¡°I hope you have not taken a liking to her.¡±


    ¡°Of course not! I just-I merely wondered I think it was, she who wailed loudly the other day.¡± Brad¨¢n answered strongly, disgusted by the notion of liking a girl, any girl at all. At fourteen, while he could certainly feel attraction towards them, he had yet to meet a single female he could tolerate for much more than a few seconds. They all seemed flighty and spent more time giggling, and gossiping, so that he had yet to meet one he truly liked.


    ¡°I doubt that.¡±


    ¡°I am no liar!¡± Brad¨¢n snapped furiously.


    ¡°I did not say that you were,¡± Lyr replied calmly, ¡°I only meant that I doubt that the lady R¨ªonal could cry.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡± the boy wondered, confused by such a statement.


    ¡°Because she was stone-faced at her daughter¡¯s funeral,¡± Lyr explained obviously pleased at the chance to gossip.


    Brad¨¢n felt lost as to what to say or think. As he listened he feared that were he to tell more he might be brought before Brien who would take measures to forbid him going to sit by the sea.


    He was fortunate in that he woke before everyone else the next day. After his morning prayers, he considered fetching Colum only to reject the idea as it felt as though he would be invading R¨ªonal¡¯s privacy.


    He would then be made to wait several hours; the only consolation being that he had had the foresight to eat some cheese, and bread before he left. In the midst of one of his games, against the same tree from the day before, he at last heard what he had waited so long for; someone¡¯s voice. It was that of R¨ªonal.


    Looking about him the lad found nowhere to hide, suddenly as her sobs grew more distinct,


    the widow R¨ªonal stepped nearer and nearer to the surf, but a dozen meters away from where he hid behind the tree.


    Her black dress flowed about her in the wind, the maiden hiccupping loudly in between her tears she pulled her feet out from her boots.


    As she did so, Brad¨¢n stood there stock-still. Stick in hand he gaped at her, the knowledge of what she was planning settled into place in his mind with mounting horror.


    The quiet sound of her sliding into the sea; was the only answer he received to his unspoken query, for a brief moment he considered leaving her there, or running screaming for help. But then some voice, an observant one not unlike the perceptive one of Brien the Prior noted that she would likely already have drowned by the time, help arrived to assist her.


    Before he realised it, he was up to his knees in the water, then up to his waist. Dipping and struggling first to keep his head above water so as to suck in the necessary air, before he dipped down to look for her below, the surface of the water.


    It took a scant few seconds before he found her, with the edge of his fingertips which caught onto the cloth on the back of her billowy dress.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.From there he kicked forward, inwardly grateful for how much time he spent near the beach instead of indoors praying. Reaching past the cloth blindly to find her back, he encircled her chest with his arms to try to pull her up, kicking out with all his efforts.


    At first nothing seemed to happen, then to his infinite horror something did; he seemed to be getting dragged further down. Filled with panic and a lack of air, when a sharp elbow struck back, hitting him in the gut, as R¨ªonal began to resist his efforts to help her. His anger, along with his fear mixed together inside his bosom alongside the pain as he kicked out beneath him, with renewed desperation.


    Battling for air and life itself, he thought of Lyr and Colum and the desire for life overcame him, as she began to kick out with her own legs. Her arms moved about to try and dislodge him, but she could not succeed as he had her from behind, too firmly for her to do so.


    Before either of them was fully aware of it immediately, they broke the surface. Brad¨¢n gasped in a huge mouthful of air as he pulled her along, his lungs and stomach burning with pain and the need for oxygen.


    R¨ªonal floating before him coughed out water, only to suck in huge gulps of her own of cool air. After two long minutes of intense breathing, both physically numb with the fulsome relief of still being alive, the thrashing and raging began.


    ¡°Let me go, you stupid dunce!¡± R¨ªonal screamed with all her strength as she began to kick at him, elbow him in the face and otherwise claw at his exposed arms and hands furiously.


    ¡°Ow! Ow! Yeowch! Why are you clawing at me, woman?¡± Brad¨¢n howled in pain, so that he instinctively let her go.


    ¡°What do you think, fool boy?¡± The widow snapped furiously, tears forming in her eyes.


    ¡°Ow! Please stop you, ungrateful witch!¡±


    ¡°Why would I wish for your aid, Brad¨¢n the bully?¡± She shot back only to twist the knife in his heart, the one that was always present when the nickname came up. ¡°Aye, I am aware it is you, always eager to harm your fellow men!¡±


    The words stung and in that instant Brad¨¢n hated R¨ªonal, he wished to let her go, so as to punish her for her barbed words.


    But more than he knew that he would never be a monk, at least not a good one. He knew no one respected him and that he had let down the gods, and had failed to live his life according to the Canticle. It was why he could not fail R¨ªonal by letting her die, for he had already lived a life of failure.


    ¡°Let me die! You little savage, let me go for the love of the goddess you obviously scorn so much!¡± R¨ªonal cried out kicking and elbowing him as best she could.


    ¡°Somebody help!¡± Brad¨¢n tried calling out, hopeful for some assistance with keeping this madwoman from making the greatest mistake of her life.


    ¡°What did you expect might happen, no one ever comes here,¡± R¨ªonal rasped back at him to his irritation, ¡°Now let me go!¡±


    Brad¨¢n debated what to do, he was a fit enough lad, tough and well-built for his age however R¨ªonal was by no means petite. Muscled and of medium build, she was used to a life of farming and heavy labour, whilst also being extremely determined. His arms bore the proof of her eagerness to end her own life.


    ¡°Explain it to me, why do such a thing¡± He cried out loudly, ¡°Would you really spite me so?¡±


    ¡°What does this have to do with you?¡± She asked incredulously, ceasing her struggles for the moment in her confusion.


    ¡°Once they discover I was unaccounted for at the time of your death, they will immediately blame me.¡± Brad¨¢n lied sharply hoping to now use her conscience, against her.


    ¡°What are you ranting about?¡±


    ¡°Explain it to me.¡±


    ¡°No, I will not you fool boy.¡± She shot after spitting out the water that had found a way into her mouth.


    ¡°Explain it and I will let you go,¡± He began only for his voice to drift as he strained to regain his breath.


    ¡°Just what?¡± R¨ªonal wondered.


    ¡°Can we discuss this on land? When you finish if you still wish to end your life you still could, without me stopping you!¡± Brad¨¢n pleaded desperate to return to land.


    ¡°You swear this?¡± R¨ªonal murmured glancing back at him as best she could, he nodded only to be prompted, ¡°Swear the oath aloud.¡±


    ¡°I swear it.¡± He snapped irritably only to bite back, ¡°What of you? Should you not also swear not to kill yourself until after I have been given chance enough, to help you?¡±


    Slowly, as though frightened that if he let go of her, she might break into a thousand pieces. Without a second¡¯s hesitation, R¨ªonal plunged back into the sea, or at the least attempted to.


    This time Brad¨¢n was prepared for her, as he had not trusted her, catching her by the arms. Despite his best efforts he could not seem to pull her half as well as he had planned. With a well-timed kick behind her, R¨ªonal struck him in the thigh, earning a gasp of pain from the lad.


    ¡°Help! Help!¡± Brad¨¢n screamed as loudly as he could, praying that somebody would hear him, right before he plunged back into the water. The rush of water into his nostrils and ears, was not a feeling he relished all that much then given how unprepared he was for it.


    Reliant upon all his strength he kicked at the water, even as his grip on R¨ªonal¡¯s arms slackened.


    Lungs burning, he was about ready to give up all hope for even his own life, one that while not terribly impressive or particularly good, he still fought to cling to with all his heart and soul. But then, as if sensing his desperation, he felt R¨ªonal start to give way, she seemed to be pushed from the sea, even as he felt someone grab a hold of his own waist to begin tugging at him.


    Soon they not only broke the surface, but found themselves, all but spat out from the sea. Once back on the beach, Brad¨¢n collapsed onto the sand on his back with his arms sprawled out to either side of him. He gasped for air, doing his best to ignore the throb of pain that shot through him from his arms and legs, where he had strained his arms and legs.


    The woman who had struck him, sat shivering with her face determinedly set towards the Geraintian Sea, her shoulders hunched.


    ¡°Why kill yourself?¡± Brad¨¢n gasped straining for air.


    ¡°You have undoubtedly heard the rumours.¡± She spat harshly, face turned away from him.


    ¡°Are they all true?¡± Brad¨¢n queried mind still whirling, from how close they had come to losing their lives.


    It was then that he became conscious of a third person¡¯s breathing. Except this person was panting much more loudly, and laboriously than he or the young woman was. He leaned up to glance over in the direction just a few feet from R¨ªonal, the boy was shocked to discover Eibhlin. Seated next to her good-daughter, the old woman gave him a quiet nod, from where she sat.


    ¡°So is it true that she lost her baby?¡± Brad¨¢n asked unsure of what to ask or how to address, either woman, especially R¨ªonal. Should he treat her delicately? Or perhaps sharpness would be better? Or some sort of middle ground between the two reactions? A burst of longing for Lyr and his tactfulness filled the boy.


    But there was no such luck to be had for the hero of our tale. ¡°Yes a terrible tragedy, my grandchild whom her mother loved as much as I love R¨ªonal herself, was lost.¡±


    Surprised by this straightforward affirmation of love for a girl everyone in the community, claimed to have a tempestuous relationship with old Eibhlin.


    ¡°But everyone claims that, you despise her,¡± Brad¨¢n stated confused by her remark.


    ¡°You should cease listening to that buffoon Lyr¡¯s gossip, instead of your own head lad,¡± Eibhlin said sharply to him.


    ¡°Eibhlin what are you doing here?¡± R¨ªonal inquired miserably.


    ¡°Never you mind what I am doing, I was frightened out of my wits. Did you plan to send me to an early grave, you young fool?¡± Eibhlin growled down at her as her eyes flashed with barely restrained fury at her good-daughter.


    ¡°I did not do it to spite you,¡± R¨ªonal replied earnestly, she bit her lower lip before she added. ¡°I simply-how could you possibly understand the-¡±


    ¡°The loss of a child?¡± Eibhlin interrupted sharply, only to turn away from her. ¡°Then you can remain at home. From this day forward, you will not come near the river again. You will, do your duty as my son¡¯s wife.¡±


    R¨ªonal scowled at her only to hang her head in shame. ¡°Very well, Eibhlin.¡±


    Brad¨¢n inadvertently brought attention unto himself, by coughing. This resulted in Eibhlin turning her head to glance at him, from over her shoulder. ¡°Brother Brad¨¢n, you may return to the monastery now. We have no further need, of your services.¡±


    ¡°Yes, madam,¡± Brad¨¢n grunted disappointed by the fact that he would not get to see and learn more about this family.


    As he ran back thither to the monastery, the full realisation of just what he had achieved that day, near the river at last penetrated his mind; he had saved the lady R¨ªonal. Pride and a kind of leonine sense of his own grandness filled him, the more he thought about it.


    So eager was he that, when he arrived in the kitchens, he was shouting for Lyr.


    ¡°Lyr! Lyr! I am a hero, you have to hear my tale!¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes what did you do that was so heroic lad?¡± the old monk asked amiably, while he pounded away at the flour on the table before him. ¡°And cease your shouting. It is improper for a monk to behave in such a hooligan manner.¡±


    ¡°Never mind the rules of silence and contemplation. I saved someone¡¯s life!¡± Brad¨¢n cried out, beyond jubilant.


    ¡°Very well, how did you do this when you were supposed, to be busy with your prayers?¡± Lyr demanded with a raised brow that belied his disapproval.


    ¡°You see, all the rumours about the lady R¨ªonal and Eibhlin are wrong. Because, of how grief-stricken she is, R¨ªonal attempted to end her life by drowning herself. But Eibhlin and I saved her,¡± Brad¨¢n explained happily, not just a little pleased with his own role in the widow¡¯s rescue.


    For one long moment, Lyr stared the boy down, slowly, ever so slowly a scowl climbed its way onto his face. ¡°Enough of your lies, Brad¨¢n while I do enjoy gossip, it is not a hobby I wish for you to indulge in. Especially if it means you intend to do so, to aggrandize yourself at the expense of others.¡±


    Indignant at how Lyr refused to believe him, ¡°But I swear to you, it is the truth! I did save her life!¡±


    ¡°You have cried wolf too many times in the past,¡± Lyr grumbled wagging his finger at the young boy who pouted furiously, in response to him. ¡°Now for your lies, I shall not use the switch, but you will see to washing the dishes, for two months rather than simply three weeks. I do believe, that that should be fair even to your mind.¡±


    ¡°Nay,¡± Brad¨¢n grumbled unable to believe his own ill-fortune, he had done something good that day, and yet he was to be punished for it? He was quick to let the older monk know of his unhappiness. ¡°This is unfair.¡±


    ¡°¡®Tis your own fault,¡± Lyr insisted determined to be harsher with the lad, he had previously coddled.


    The aforementioned lad was to let loose a great roar of fury, and kick over a pile of dishes, ere he raced out from the kitchens and across the fields back to yon beach-side.


    In the days that followed immediately, after R¨ªonal was saved from her own grief, Brad¨¢n was almost too busy with his chores to go see the widow. He heard nothing of her until three days later when Eibhlin, visited the monastery as it was the seventh day.


    Alms were gathered in a relaxed manner, whilst Brien lectured those gathered on the nature of the virtues of song and generosity. He also spoke, of the vices of greed and wrath, which he considered to be the source of all wrongs in the world, after pride.


    Eibhlin approached the lad at the back of the temple, praying to the left of Colum, unable to overcome his boredom but not brave enough to defy Brien. She pulled on his sleeve, and then leant over to murmur into his ear. ¡°R¨ªonal does well and wishes to see you.¡±


    After the end of the sermon on virtue and vice, he raced before he could be halted. Not wanting to be impeded by the other monks and given more chores by Brien or Lyr.


    He had caught up with her, just as they reached the apple tree that heralded the edge of the lands of Eibhlin¡¯s family. The old lady turned to face him, with a frown on her lips that did not encourage him. Just as her nod made him, wonder what he was doing there, following the orders of a woman who had previously, barely tolerated his existence.


    ¡°You said that R¨ªonal had recovered?¡± Brad¨¢n asked curiously.


    ¡°Aye, though she remains weary in spirit. She has certainly recovered enough, to be able to be around the knives though I remain sceptical, of her being near the river.¡± Eibhlin explained signalling him, to follow her into her home. ¡°It has not escaped my attention, how you saved my son¡¯s widow. Therefore, I wish to thank you for your part in saving R¨ªonal¡¯s life.¡±


    Brad¨¢n¡¯s cheeks turned scarlet as he felt embarrassed by her show of gratitude, as he had never done anything to merit such strong sentiments from anyone (save Colum). Brad¨¢n glanced down at his booted feet, earning him a short snicker from the old lady. Whom, he was fairly certain was in the midst of mocking him. Glancing up, he met Eibhlin¡¯s gaze, to find warmth there that silenced him.


    The hut in which the women lived in, was a small building. Made from as much thatch, as it was from wood and mud, it was delicate in the face of strong winds. There was a small fire-area inside the house, where a spit lay, used for cooking while the tools and equipment needed for cooking lay on a sheet to the rear of the hut. A small table stood to the left side, which was the largest side of the building. R¨ªonal was wrapped in a series of furs, her breathing even, a clear signal that she was asleep, next to the fire.


    The widow was asleep, which caused Brad¨¢n to wonder about those stories about the widow wandering the local woods at night. The lad suddenly felt a great swell of pity for her, he also prayed that he would never be subjected to how she currently felt.


    ¡°R¨ªonal, wake up,¡± Eibhlin cried as she shook the girl, and pulled at her, ¡°Wake up else I shall see to treating you as the child, you seem intent on imitating.¡±


    R¨ªonal stirred, groaned and rose from her corner of the house, reluctantly. Evidently still extremely tired, seated herself next to the old lady, still dressed in her black that seemed bonded to her flesh, in recent days. She did so with a dead look, and wiped at her face to wipe (or attempt to) all evidence of sleep.


    ¡°I invited young Brad¨¢n to visit us, so as to properly thank him for having saved your life, R¨ªonal.¡± Eibhlin explained showing for the first time doubt, as well as hesitancy.


    R¨ªonal stared the child in the eye, her lips thinned in a show of dislike, ¡°For what? How did he save me?¡±


    ¡°From yourself, fool girl.¡± The old lady snapped furiously, ¡°Thank him, my dear.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, there may I go see to the sheep?¡± R¨ªonal shot back, as impatient as her husband¡¯s mother.


    ¡°R¨ªonal, please be reasonable,¡± Eibhlin pleaded only to be ignored as the younger woman got up, then left to go take care of their small herd. ¡°You could at least attempt, to make it up to us for, the troubles you caused.¡±


    ¡°I thanked him, already did I not?¡± She retorted.


    ¡°Forgive her, she is merely-¡± Eibhlin began only to be interrupted by the now impatient boy.


    ¡°Ungrateful,¡± He grunted furious, and weary of R¨ªonal¡¯s lack of appreciation for those around her.


    He left the old lady without any sense of joy, or relief at no longer being in her good-daughter¡¯s grim presence.


    Once he was outside though, he was unsurprised to find R¨ªonal in the field, what did startle was when she called out to him. ¡°Brad¨¢n, come here, I wish to speak to you.¡±


    ¡°About what? Not thanking me once more?¡± Brad¨¢n snapped bitingly.


    ¡°No, I-I wished to,¡± R¨ªonal sucked in a breath only to glance to the sea, she then returned her eyes to her feet. ¡°I am sorry. I realize you are but a child and that I, and my grief are not easy to- I just feel lost. I have nothing; you shan¡¯t understand how that possibly feels¡­¡±


    Brad¨¢n felt his chest tighten and his brain throb almost painfully so, with pain, which was followed by rage. ¡°I know it better than you! So be silent!¡±


    It was by no means a brilliant choice of words, but as is ever the case when anger or emotions seize hold of the hearts, minds and tongues of men, eloquence typically fails them. It took a heartbeat before the young lad, realized this, only to shout once more. ¡°You at least still have Eibhlin yet you do not value her goodness, or her love. I may not know love, but I do know its absence so what would you know about, loss?¡± He turned to run, then halted to add over his shoulder. ¡°Also, you have a home, and a husband who will someday return at least!¡±


    It was not in Brad¨¢n¡¯s nature to be of an optimistic mind, he knew that what he said was true. R¨ªonal¡¯s love would someday return, it was not as though she¡¯d likely remain all alone forever, unlike Brad¨¢n. Who was trapped in a life he held, no desire for and surrounded by those with even less love for him.


    It would be days before, Brad¨¢n saw her again or anything all that remarkable happened to him, with the morning Session of Ziusday being the next time he saw her. It would be on this day that, the widow arrived panting and gasping, having obviously run some distance in order to convey something of some importance to the group of gathered monks.


    ¡°Is something the matter, young R¨ªonal?¡± Brien asked caught between irritation and surprise at her sudden arrival.


    ¡°There are fires nearby, a large number of them nearby and it seems that there are several of the men, from this camp on their way here.¡± R¨ªonal announced worriedly, leaning against the door to remain upright.


    ¡°An army? Here?¡± Brien gasped unable to keep his mouth from opening and closing in shock.


    Brad¨¢n could not believe it, nor could he blame the Abbot for his fearful reaction to the news of an army, being nearby. In the boy¡¯s opinion this was the worst and most unexpected possibly news.


    He only wondered if these feelings of dread were those everyone on their way to the block felt before, the final swing of the blade fell.

 Chapter II: Day of Fear

    It was the mornings she missed most. The time spent with Fionn¨¢n¡¯s arms around her and Saraibh¡¯s cries of joy. What she also missed was her cries for attention, from the other side of the hut when she needed her mother to feed her in the first two months of her life. The young woman remembered the two years before the pregnancy, when they had first been wed, almost even more fondly. To R¨ªonal, those three years had been all she or anyone could have wished for. Neither she nor her husband had been well-educated yet they had still tried, to tell stories or imitate the songs of the faith after dusk had fallen.


    When she had lost her daughter, she remembered how she had been left numb, as her baby breathed her last in her arms. Only for her to have to bury her a few mere hours later, this she did at Eibhlin¡¯s insistence, not that R¨ªonal had forgiven her for that, not yet at least. Her daughter¡¯s funeral should have been, had when the child¡¯s father was present.


    ¡°You are deluding yourself lass, he¡¯s been absent for a year and your child has been gone for half that time; he is not coming back.¡± Eibhlin had told her some time ago, when she had refused to accept a funeral for her husband.


    She knew Eibhlin had suffered more than anyone could guess, more than she dared to attempt to imagine. And that many of the neighbours despised her or thought her over-bearing, but hers¡¯ was a gruff if kind heart. One full of love for R¨ªonal, for it had been she who had cared for the lass when her parents died of plague fifteen years earlier. It had been Eibhlin who had taken to paying her tithes and seeing to her welfare against all odds.


    By the time a year had passed since R¨ªonal¡¯s losses she had begun to lose interest in waiting for Fionn¨¢n. So great was her grief and shame, for her miscarriage after the loss of Saraibh. At least if one of her children had survived, she¡¯d have something to hold onto and live for. Eibhlin had told her there¡¯d be more children in her future, yet R¨ªonal had seen how bent, how weary the old lady seemed lately as though, she doubted her own words.


    The day the young nineteen year old widow had chosen to put an end to her own misery. It was to be final where nobody would find and stop her, only for Brad¨¢n to poison her efforts, of course she knew of the lad, how could she not? He was heavily disliked and gossiped about, with many even convinced he was the son of an imp.


    After the lad had helped save her life, she had resented him. Eibhlin was convinced that they owed him a considerable debt. Since the day, the lad and she had had their dispute; R¨ªonal had felt a heavy weight bearing down on her shoulders. She felt as though she had failed Brad¨¢n and herself, and more than that; as though she had failed Eibhlin. The mother of her husband did not expect much, from her. But she did expect her to behave as honourably, as she had been raised to be.


    It was for these reasons that R¨ªonal had after tilling the fields for some time, before the temple¡¯s Session honouring the goddess Brigantia left for the monastery. She hoped to meet with Brad¨¢n to properly apologize, for the manner in which, she had addressed him the prior day. She was aware of how he had saved her. And was aware that he had done so, out of the simple goodness of a heart, nobody had been aware he even had. Therefore, she still had difficulty accepting what the lad had done, she would apologize to him.


    She did not notice at once, yet notice it she did when in the midst of glancing up to the shining suns, in irritation at the heat. Still sweaty, and overheated from four hours of farming, she felt it well within her rights to dislike, the two suns of Midgard. It was then that she saw the fires, the smoke and heard the thunderous clamour that signalled a large group of men.


    Her first instinct was to turn around to rush home, to warn Eibhlin of the possible army that sat just west, of them. She squashed that desire and remembered where Eibhlin would likely be at this time, given which day it was.


    Hiking up her dress a little with her hands, R¨ªonal ran as swiftly as she possibly could, towards the temple. Her heart thundering in her chest, she hurried, cursing her skirts for slowing her down as much as they did.


    By the time she arrived, her fear and uncertainty had solidified in her gut, giving her the vague feeling of nausea. It also convinced her that even if Eibhlin, was not in the temple at that exact moment, brother Brien would be present. He would surely, know what to do at such a dire time, or so she told herself.


    ¡°Is something the matter, lady R¨ªonal?¡± Brien asked of her upon her arrival, and after she had thrown the doors to the temple open, interrupting the sacrist in the middle of his reading of the holy Canticle.


    For all the desire to tell them, what she had just seen outside. R¨ªonal could do nothing but gasp for air and try to catch her breath.


    ¡°There are men, lots of them and many banners, with various symbols from the south I think? Just west of us, with their horses directed northwards,¡± She gasped out, with every face around her going white from shock, at her words.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± One monk cried out in a panic, frightened.


    ¡°We will all be killed for certain!¡± One burly man R¨ªonal knew to be a neighbouring farmer by the name of Readwulf, his father having come from Cymru, some thirty-nine years.


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Another monk wondered.


    ¡°We should flee,¡± Someone from the middle of the crowd suggested, though R¨ªonal was not sure who.


    ¡°But we have nowhere to run to!¡± An older monk argued back, his voice as hysterical, ¡°What are we going to do?¡±


    ¡°All of you remain calm, for I know what is to be done; we are merely going to convey via messenger that we are friendly and peaceful, at the service of the laird that is all.¡± Brother Brien shouted over all those gathered before him in calm and measured tones to the distraught farmers, and monks.


    There was a silence that followed his words, as everyone took them in, it was R¨ªonal knew an anxiously uncertain silence. As most of them, were waiting for someone to think of a better idea or to bring about a miracle. Sadly, there was neither to be had, as nobody could think up a better idea in the tense panic filled moment that succeeded his pronouncement.


    Simple farmers and monks, not one man or woman present could even imagine, doing anything other than grovelling or fleeing for their lives. Even R¨ªonal could think of no better plan to solve their current dilemma. Much as she craved death though, she could not bring herself to take Eibhlin¡¯s life for granted. Or even that of the young Brad¨¢n for that matter.


    Only the most hot-headed or na?ve could believe they could fight, those of the same maturity or age as the defiant Brad¨¢n for example. The lad looked as though he were frightened, yet convinced that they should at least try remaining defiant, should it come to it. Moving quietly so that none of the monks might take notice of her, she placed herself next to the lad who had opened his mouth, to speak up.


    ¡°Discretion, Brad¨¢n,¡± She hissed at him.


    ¡°I did not say anything as of yet,¡± He sulked with a wounded look that did not garner so much as a scrap of sympathy from her.


    ¡°But you were going to.¡± R¨ªonal snapped at him, as from the little time she had spent with him, she had rapidly become familiar with his rather combative personality.


    Brien in the meantime had already begun to order the reluctant people about. Determined to usher in order out of the chaos, he currently had to contend with.


    ¡°Brothers prepare some food, as to the farmers they should be prepared to hide themselves in the monastery in particular the women and children. Eibhlin, I will leave you to organize the farmers here whilst I send out the monks to call them all hither. In turn, I will go assure the laird of our subservient intentions.¡± Brien was saying, his voice brimming with confidence, even if his eyes lacked any such emotion.


    ¡°Do not go Brother Brien, we need you here,¡± pleaded one monk by the name of Lyr, one of those who worked in the kitchen of the monastery. A short and stout man with few hairs, left outside his whiskers on his chin, his large moustache and his bushy eyebrows.


    ¡°Much as I appreciate the concern, Brother Lyr someone must go to see this noble. There is no great cause for concern, I am sure this merely a demonstration of strength, on the part of our dear laird.¡± Brien stated calmly and confidently, his hands raised in a placating gesture.


    The realization he could die gave her an idea, if anyone who went risked incurring a noble¡¯s wrath, why not send someone with no fear of death? Someone with nothing to lose, such as R¨ªonal.


    ¡°Brother Brien, perhaps someone else should go?¡± She suggested as she stepped forward. ¡°NO!¡± Eibhlin shouted at once, seized by panic.


    ¡°I think not, the laird will doubtlessly take it badly should we send a woman to go greet him.¡± Brien argued back, his words made her cheeks flush bright red, with indignation. Even though she hated the monk, at that moment she could not disagree, with him given how nobles tended to look down upon women.


    He left the monastery with more dignity than a king, in the eyes of his adherents who worshipped him then.


    ¡°R¨ªonal walk with me, as I require assistance with rallying the farmers and fishermen, my legs and throat are no longer what they once were.¡± Eibhlin told her coldly, evidently upset with her for her suggestion that she should represent the village, rather than Brien.


    ¡°I had thought to-¡± R¨ªonal began to say, unable to think of anything she¡¯d like less, than to be in her good-mother¡¯s presence at the moment.


    ¡°Now!¡± Eibhlin roared furiously, startling not just her good-daughter but all the men around them as they had always believed her, to be a rather quiet old lady and not one prone to flashes of anger. R¨ªonal could be stubborn in her own way, yet she had never been all that fierce when faced with the regal Eibhlin who was the fiercest person, she had ever known in the whole of her life.


    ¡°Also, brother Lyr could I mayhap borrow your young charge, brother Brad¨¢n?¡± Eibhlin asked politely of the cook. ¡°Given all the energy the lad has, it could be put to better use than in silly brawls.¡±


    Her words won her several nods of approval, from the men, women and some lads present.


    None looked more curious, than the one Ratvian, who stood next to Brad¨¢n. The non-human lad glanced between his friend and the women. He obviously, had a whole legion of questions burning on his tongue.


    ¡°If you need any help, I could also be of some assistance, should you wish it.¡± He offered timidly, he was bound for obvious disappointment though, a heartbeat later.


    ¡°Then you can scurry off to the farm, manned by the rat family, over yonder.¡± Eibhlin ordered, she did not seem to notice or care when he sagged in defeat, a second after he heard her crisp words.


    He cut such a pitiful figure that, Brad¨¢n seemed to hesitate and R¨ªonal felt compelled to say something to Eibhlin about the Ratvian.


    ¡°Um, Eibhlin I believe that, the lad hoped to accompany us.¡± She spoke up a few minutes later, after he had long since departed. As she needed that time to gather, her courage unaccustomed as she was, to defying her good-mother.


    ¡°Do not get any funny notions about attempting to distract me from you by having, me concentrate on some child¡¯s feelings. I am old, not stupid R¨ªonal.¡± Eibhlin grunted back with a glower that knocked her back, down into place.


    ¡°Follow me, you two. Brad¨¢n run along to the family of those idiot sons of old Sieghard. Least they could do is supply three or four of their own, after the youngest of the lot, used to always chase R¨ªonal everywhere.¡± Eibhlin commanded him, her tone though was soft though when she spoke to him, R¨ªonal noticed.


    Why does she speak more gently with him, than I? She asked herself bitterly; as she resented the favour the lad had received from the old woman then. It was too much of a stark contrast, to the harshness R¨ªonal had received from Eibhlin, in the past week or so.


    ¡°He requires a kinder hand than that, which the monks can currently provide for him.¡± Eibhlin commented with the first burst of optimism in some time.


    ¡°Really?¡± R¨ªonal replied indifferently, merely glad then that her elder¡¯s ill-mood had evaporated not unlike a fog in the morning-wind.


    ¡°Now let us discuss, this matter of you still wishing to bring your life to an abrupt end.¡± Fionn¨¢n¡¯s mother said with all the subtlety of a brick dropped, onto one¡¯s foot.


    ¡°Must we discuss this now?¡± R¨ªonal pleaded quietly.


    What she received was far worse than anything she had ever expected. A pair of grief-stricken, heartbroken eyes stared up at her with such pain that she, R¨ªonal daughter of Flann and Aislinn, could hardly fathom the depths of the sorrow of her good-mother.


    ¡°Please R¨ªonal, I have tried to understand. To aid you, and yet you continue to refuse my assistance, do you in your heart of hearts truly despise me so much? Enough to strip me of my daughter? And leave me alone in this world which has already been so cruel as to strip me of my only son, and grandchildren?¡± Eibhlin cried out to her, soul bereft of all joy, her cheeks soon stained with tears.


    All words failed R¨ªonal as did all of her previous resentment for old Eibhlin. She was kind and had already done so much for her. Yet how could R¨ªonal tell her of nature¡¯s cruel joke on her, when it had snatched just as much, if not more from the old lady? No, there were too few words, to describe her grief, at having not just lost her children so soon after losing her husband. But in her grief, she had failed Eibhlin. Failed as her good-daughter, not once but four times, when she had failed her son and grandchildren, only for R¨ªonal to fail her, herself.


    ¡°R¨ªonal you must as one of the kindly monks once told me; absorb the blow as it were. You are still young, and will bear yet more children; therefore take heart my child.¡± Eibhlin encouraged in a not unkindly voice.


    Her words outraged R¨ªonal though, who felt as though her love for Fionn¨¢n was being put on trial, for to her mind it was better to die than to betray him in such a way. ¡°Would you really question my devotion to thy son?¡±


    ¡°Question? Heavens no! I merely suggest you attempt to rekindle, the joy, the passion that once lit your heart. It made you the envy of all the lasses in the whole of ¨¦riu, and your face as the morning sun to all men, this side of the Channel.¡± Eibhlin hurriedly explained to the younger woman.


    ¡°Yet you would have me take the next man, to cross my path or, who takes a fancy to me? To what? Lie with me in my marriage bed?¡± R¨ªonal demanded as angry and frenzied as she was, the day before when they were by the sea.


    ¡°It¡¯s hardly a bed, if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°Eibhlin!¡±


    ¡°R¨ªonal grant me that much, it is all I shall ever ask of you. Not to sit upon a bed, but to sit upon the ground and tell not sad tales, of the deaths of kings and good folks, but in their place the joyous, raucous tales of the life of kings and of those children whom you will certainly bear one day.¡± Eibhlin persisted stubbornly, aware that she knew best, though in R¨ªonal¡¯s eyes the lecture had a bitter taste to it. ¡°Please?¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.¡°Oh, very well, I shall think about it.¡± R¨ªonal conceded bitterly, on the point of living for a bit longer that is. Not because she wanted to, but for Eibhlin¡¯s sake.


    ¡°Good, now let us see about convincing that fool Darragh, to make something of a contribution to the rest of us, for the first time in his miserable life.¡± Eibhlin commented, her disdain for the neighbour, just south of her own lands out in the open. ¡°If you must marry once more, then I must insist that it not be to him, or any of his kin.¡±


    R¨ªonal could see that there was no point in arguing with her elder. She also did not much care, for Darragh¡¯s family either as the man had always despised her husband and good-mother. To her mind, they were selfish, insensitive, with Darragh barely a week after her daughter¡¯s death, suggesting R¨ªonal wed into his family. Such a match would have denied Eibhlin her only helper, on the farm and as a bonus have stuck in her craw.


    ¡°Hello, are any of you home? Wake up, if you are still asleep you slothful oafs!¡± the old woman shouted into the house instead of knocking.


    ¡°What are you doing here, you old hag?¡± Darragh demanded furiously from, the other side of the wooden door, he sounded as though, he had just been woken up.


    ¡°To tell you that though you might deserve to suffer, to the army that is but a short hop away. Your children certainly do not deserve to be worked to dead, or killed when they could survive.¡± Replied the insulted woman as she glowered back at the equally infuriated, taller figure who stood just behind the wooden door before her. The door swung open to reveal the angered swarthy face, of the extremely unpopular Darragh.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± He bellowed impatiently, a vein in his neck throbbing visibly only to frown when he caught sight of the younger woman, who stood next to his hated rival. ¡°Ah R¨ªonal? What are you doing here? Here to finally accept my kindly proposal?¡±


    ¡°Oh do shut it; can you not see how revolted the poor girl is?¡± Eibhlin asked almost as disgusted as her good-daughter was.


    ¡°What did you say, you daft hag?¡± Darragh asked in an irritated voice. ¡°I was merely-¡±


    ¡°We all know what it was you were implying, now hurry up and get those ne¡¯er do well sons of yours to better use than as thy work-mules.¡± Eibhlin retorted with greater impatience than before, as she slammed her right-food imperiously upon the ground. ¡°Now come along R¨ªonal, we have to see if maybe now that Darragh¡¯s sons will take care of ensuring that Niall, Brien and Ulliam get the message. As those lads are likely to be swifter on their feet than, either of us.¡±


    R¨ªonal hurried after Eibhlin after shooting a glance over her shoulder to see that Darragh was still glaring after them.


    It was quite the spectacle a few hours later when almost everyone, in the immediate area was gathered within the monastery¡¯s walls. The women and children, in front of the shrine and altar, deep in prayer with their hands on their knees, palms up, in the traditional gesture of prayer. A few of the monks were also deep in prayer, just a short distance from the panicked families.


    The men who were not monks were divided into two groups; one which would stay outside, to keep watch there, on the farms. This while the monk in the highest tower of their monastery, would keep watch in the opposite direction. The brother chosen for the task was a stout, eagle-eyed old brother by the name of Angus, who had been there for as long as anyone (save for Eibhlin) could remember. Once a merchant of some wealth, he had lost everything in a terrible raid, only to turn to faith for solace from his material, and emotional losses.


    Brad¨¢n for his part was amongst those who volunteered for Angus¡¯ task yet was not trusted by almost everyone there. Instead, he was left with the second group which was composed of those staying with those, who had taken refuge in the temple itself.


    ¡°The situation is untenable, I despise waiting like this.¡± R¨ªonal grumbled to Eibhlin, ¡°We are trapped, as though we were birds in a cage.¡±


    ¡°Patience. No need to be so eager for something to happen. Besides, I thought you wished to die.¡± Eibhlin retorted evenly, staring her in the eye from the corner of her own.


    The snide tone stung, though R¨ªonal should have known that she would react in such a manner. Given that she had recently, mistreated her surrogate mother, she let the matter slide. Especially since it appeared as though they were about to die, anyways. The last thing R¨ªonal wanted, was to leave this mortal coil with bitterness between her and Eibhlin.


    ¡°Eibhlin, about what happened, I am-¡± She had just begun to make her apologies, to Eibhlin when she was cut off.


    ¡°Save me your excuses, R¨ªonal you are merely seeking to salvage your own feelings, rather than genuinely atone for your actions.¡± Eibhlin interrupted scathingly, R¨ªonal in response summoned up a biting retort. One which soon slipped away, when she saw the way the older woman¡¯s head was bowed, with unshed tears in her eyes. R¨ªonal forgot then all about her own hurt feelings and anger, at that moment Eibhlin was not her enemy, so much as a fellow sufferer. ¡°I just wanted-wanted you to have more than what I or even your parents-bless their souls-ever had. I am sorry that you suffered, it was never my intention, and as we die here today I can only pray that you are reunited with those you have lost. I also pray that they somehow bring themselves, to forgive me for failing you. This is all I wanted to say to you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Eibhlin I and I am sure my parents, never blamed you.¡± R¨ªonal said sincerely, wrapping her arms around her friend, as gently as she could. ¡°I blamed myself for both the losses of our family, and never being able to live up to your example.¡±


    ¡°What example?¡± Eibhlin grunted in reply, yet with a touched look in her eyes.


    The moment came to an end, when Brother Lyr sought to console some of the children some distance away, his voice carrying over to their ears. ¡°Now, now there is nothing to worry about. After-all, what sort of laird or man would burn down a monastery?¡±


    He was to meet with failure though, as Brad¨¢n chose that moment to argue with him. ¡°Aye, but in all of your stories about bad men, do not they always do that?¡±


    ¡°Aye, well uh-¡± the baffled monk stuttered, defeated by a mere lad¡¯s logic, but he was saved from having to answer when there was a cry from just outside the doors.


    ¡°Brother Brien has returned, along with four other riders!¡±


    The two groups reunited, with many a families doing so tearfully. The monks fidgeted impatiently, awaiting the courageous Brien¡¯s return who did not keep them waiting long. He made his appearance within the hour, yet when he did, he was visibly tired, and was openly nervous.


    He made his way towards the temple doors, he was encircled on either side by two burly warriors, who had their hands on the swords girded on their belts. As they studied those in the monastery, with hostile eyes they stepped past the Prior, who remained quiet, about their rudeness. Once satisfied, they nodded to someone behind Brien, with the fourth rider, dismounting his horse, only to step past the monk also.


    ¡°So this is your little monastery, Brother Brien, am I supposed to be awed?¡± this man was better dressed, in clothes that looked far more expensive than any R¨ªonal had ever laid eyes on. What particularly impressed her was the cape of fine green Norencian wool, which R¨ªonal would with her passion for weaving, loved to work with. The man¡¯s baleful eyes settled themselves on the statue of Brigantia, only to snort openly at it.


    ¡°It will have to do,¡± the noble snorted dismissively, only to turn his head to look at Brien. ¡°Bring out your accounts and some food, anything you can summon up in this pitiful, backwater. Then, I want, what we agreed upon.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my laird,¡± Brien hastily agreed, nodding to his fellow monks who had caught themselves, before they could completely swarm him.


    All were taken aback, by their guests, as no one had been quite expecting them to come to the monastery peacefully. Brien shot an apologetic look to his brothers, before he departed with the haughty man.


    ¡°Who is that man?¡± R¨ªonal asked in a whisper to Eibhlin, who shrugged in reply.


    ¡°No idea, though if I had to guess, our liege-laird.¡± She replied reasonably, as she studied the men at the doors, with a quizzical look in her eyes. ¡°Still, I would not tread too close to them. I dislike, how they look at us, though it is natural for men such as they.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± R¨ªonal inquired not sure of what it was she meant, though she could see more than one or two things wrong with them, herself even from afar.


    ¡°They seem fairly hostile to us all, if you ask me.¡± Eibhlin murmured back, her sharp eyes narrowed.


    ¡°True,¡± R¨ªonal breathed back, just as Brien hurried back down the stairs he had just guided the laird up.


    He was immediately beset by, his fellow monks and even some of the local sheep-farmers rushed up to him. Each with more questions, than any of them would have otherwise believed, possible for any one human to have.


    ¡°Who is that man?¡±


    ¡°Why is he here?¡±


    ¡°Why did you bring him here? What does he want from us?¡±


    ¡°I will answer your questions, at a later time. He is a very powerful, very important man; therefore he will not be with us for very long.¡± Brien explained slowly, with apparent reluctance, turning to the guards he called out to them. ¡°The one by the name of P¨¤draig, is commanded by order of his lairdship, Conn who orders he do as he has previously bidden. He claims that, he has decided upon a place to put her, and will leave you here to see to her needs and to go fetch her.¡±


    The guard whom R¨ªonal supposed was named P¨¤draig departed, visibly reluctant to do so, though nobody else breathed any easier. This was because there was still an army outside sitting about, waiting for further orders along with, another guard still present, and still as baleful as ever.


    ¡°I must return to see to laird Conn¡¯s needs, Lyr have everyone return home at once. There will be no massacres to-day, only a few exchanges of goods and people. No need to worry, oh but have Eibhlin stay here, as I wish to speak to her, once Conn has left.¡± Brien ordered wearily.


    ¡°What sort of exchange?¡± Eibhlin demanded acidly.


    ¡°Fear not, all exchanges are the sort that would doubtlessly, please the goddess, I think. You may even let R¨ªonal stay, if you so wish, as it would be to her benefit also.¡± Brien answered mysteriously.


    ¡°Oh, very well we shall wait, but not for very long, we do have fields to till and cattle to feed,¡± Eibhlin snapped impatiently irritated by this delay.


    It was understandable given their lot in life, as peasants and cattle-farmers they needed to feed their cattle, stock up on some of their produce and work endlessly. That is if they wished to survive the first months of winter, let alone the last ones. Whereas the monks had nothing to worry about, given that while they had farming to do themselves, they had tithes and such to fall back upon.


    The hours that it took to wait for Brien to speak, with the R¨ª Conn, were precious ones during which they could have been working the fields. The only comfort was the fact that Brad¨¢n was close by, to speak to. Only for R¨ªonal, and Eibhlin to be informed that he was being punished and to speak to him, was forbidden by the monks.


    ¡°They treat that lad too harshly,¡± Eibhlin complained loudly, this was the first time she had ever voiced such a view. It startled R¨ªonal, who noticed that her friend was genuinely upset and bewildered.


    It was shortly after this comment was made, and several monks who were passing by, pretended to be deaf, as R¨ªonal shushed her obnoxious good-mother. That the doors opened, and Brien waved them in, only to close the door behind him.


    ¡°So this is the two, you want to leave my daughter alone with?¡± the finely dressed, red-cloaked and sword-wearing heavily bearded and blonde haired Conn stated. Eyes going from Eibhlin to R¨ªonal, with naturally hooded eyes, he blinked almost sleepily at them.


    There was a note of disdain in his voice, one that R¨ªonal hardly cared for, over-all it was shocking to discover that this man could possibly have been the Ard R¨ª¡¯s son. For Brad¨¢n the King was a noble figure, already popular throughout ¨¦riu as a folk-hero, and yet his son inspired little more than distaste and fear.


    Behind the finely dressed Conn, stood a short, dark haired and brown-eyed girl, one with the same hooded eyes as her father, and the pretty look of a girl, who would someday be quite comely. The trouble for her was her short hair was very obviously cut hastily, most likely by the lass herself, with her skin having the tanned appearance, of someone who enjoyed spending much of her time outside.


    There was a naturally suspicious element, to the girl and R¨ªonal felt immediately nervous about the R¨ª¡¯s words. So too did Eibhlin, as she soon spoke up, with an unusually polite and mild tone to her voice, ¡°Leave with, my laird? What does this mean?¡±


    Her meek tone earned her a shrug from the laird, as Brien spoke up for him, ¡°The lady ¨¦odain will be staying with you, for the duration of the year and winter. In order to hide and educate her, as our noble and valiant R¨ª fears for her safety. Given the uncouthness of his enemies, it is only a natural fear.¡±


    ¡°I see, we would be honoured, but are we worthy of such a distinct honour?¡± Eibhlin asked in her most honeyed voice, one which ill-fitted her in R¨ªonal¡¯s opinion.


    ¡°It does not matter, for you will never be worthy, but I must hide the girl and Brother Brien, informed me that, you lot are the wealthiest and best farmers of the area, as well as the most discreet.¡± Conn growled back, before he moved to step past them, ¡°I will be leaving two of my men with you, and that will be the end of the matter. Now, I have real matters to attend to.¡±


    R¨ªonal well-knew what these ¡®real¡¯ matters likely were; for the past several years Conn, had been warring with his older brother, Treasach, the eldest surviving son of the prior Ard R¨ª. It had not taken long for either of the sons of the great ruler, to start infighting, with even those sons who were part of the clergy joining the fray. All wished a part, of the inheritance, yet in their blood-lust and greed, not a one had been able to pull Caladbohlg from the Clover throne. Nor had they succeeded in carrying the momentum forward against the Warlock-King, instead they had done his work for him. With the B¨®ruma¡¯s legacy all but torn asunder, by his incompetent, selfish sons, who failed to capitalise upon his victories against the demonic laird in the north.


    R¨ªonal was pulled from her thoughts, as she hurriedly stepped out of the way of the R¨ª, and self-proclaimed heir of Brad¨¢n¡¯s name-sake. ¨¦odain, fearful of separation from her father, whom she very obviously worshipped, leapt forward with a loud shriek, startling both women and the prior.


    It was apparent to all, that if anyone was unwilling to do as they were bidden; it was not one of the peasants or clerics, but Conn¡¯s own child. If only R¨ªonal and Eibhlin, knew what they were in for, they would have likely drowned the child or tried to buck their ¡®duties¡¯ with more determination.

 Chapter III: The Bully-Queen of 茅riu

    ¨¦odain in the time since her arrival in the quiet monastic area became at once a source of fascination to many of the farmers and monks. With her blonde locks, fearless manner of confronting those she took umbrage with, she was quick to gather a host of followers, her own age. She was also someone, Brad¨¢n despised from the moment, he laid eyes on her.


    The feeling was mutual, as Brad¨¢n soon discovered shortly after she was introduced to Eibhlin and R¨ªonal. The young lad was ordered to sweep the hallway right outside the door to Brien¡¯s quarters. When he heard the Prior¡¯s footsteps start to approach the door, he had naturally leaned his ear against it. The lad leaped away, the nearly forgotten broomstick in his hands was suddenly at the forefront of his mind.


    The first to exit the room, were her guards, the two brutes who had accompanied her father, who exited right after they had. After a few hushed words, he began to walk away, with his daughter rushing out the door after him.


    ¡°Wait, daddy! Do not go! I can help in the coming battles, also!¡± ¨¦odain shrieked as she raced after him, only for the two bodyguards to stop her.


    ¡°Poor child,¡± R¨ªonal murmured drifting out of the room, her dark dress of mourning whispering along the ground.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Eibhlin agreed coming up behind the younger woman to gaze at the child, with equal sympathy though she seemed to harbour some small amount of hesitancy. ¡°Are you certain that this is wise, Brien?¡±


    ¡°We have no other choice,¡± Brien replied in a defeated tone that, did little to inspire confidence in Brad¨¢n and Eibhlin¡¯s eyes.


    That was when he made his great mistake. The first in a long series of errors, where ¨¦odain was concerned having stopped, in his efforts to dust, he was caught staring at her, full of pity.


    The look in her eyes when she set eyes on him, startled and moved him, they reminded him of how he felt every time he looked at his reflection, in the water. R¨ªonal stepped forward alongside Eibhlin, who pressed her hand gently to the lass¡¯s shoulder as she stared back, past them at the young novice-monk.


    ¡°You, lad what do you think you are staring at?¡± She hiccupped furiously, tears wiped away at once, glowering at him. The lad stared back with a blank expression, which soon transformed to one of bewilderment when he realized, she was talking to him.


    ¡°Get back to work, Brad¨¢n,¡± Brien ordered him coldly, which caused the irritated lad to start dusting again in an exasperated manner.


    That was how it began. At first, he did not notice, but after the second day of the second week, of being shoved aside or having his porridge knocked from his hands ¡®accidentally¡¯. He realized that lads, who might otherwise have avoided angering him, had begun to cast more and more malevolent looks in his direction. Whilst also refusing to step out of his way. They also stopped avoiding him when he wanted them to, where before they would have known to leave him be, when he wished.


    ¡°Out of the way Brad¨¢ch,¡± Brad¨¢n said wearily, in the evening of that very day, which he had been too preoccupied with his usual set of kitchen chores, to mess about with the other lads.


    ¡°W-we are no longer afraid of you,¡± the more squeamish lad told him obstinately.


    ¡°What?¡± Brad¨¢n asked on his way to the dining-hall, with a pot of stew that Lyr had cooked for the evening¡¯s dinner, though a bully he had of late left those around him alone. Not out of any sense of pity, but more due to how distracted he had been, and how disinterested he was in others.


    His surprise cost him; ordinarily he might have been able to fight off the other lad, who simply knocked the pot full of stew from his hands. Brad¨¢n let out a cry of surprise and pain, as it burnt its way down his robed legs. Brad¨¢n doubled over in pain, once he had recovered enough, he began to slap away the burning stew from his robes without much success.


    This was not the only incident which saw the tables turned around, as one might say. It was not the sole incident which saw Brad¨¢n put in such an unusual situation. Unusual in that he was ordinarily the one responsible for it, and never the victim of such mischief so that he was entirely unprepared for what was to come. Later, right before everyone was to go to sleep, he discovered Brad¨¢ch surrounded by some of the other lads. All of whom, looked as though they were waiting for him.


    ¡°There you are,¡± Another lad said, it was Ninian who spoke to him then. Ninian was another bully one who hated Brad¨¢ch, therefore to see them together against him stunned Brad¨¢n.


    Brad¨¢n was highly conscious of Colum and aware of how he was not as physically strong as any of them, being the feeblest of the youths, living within the monastery.


    The sleeping area for the lads was a public space, it was supervised by some of the older monks, to make sure that the dozen or so rowdy lads did get to sleep. Few words were permitted between the various children, after dark.


    Brad¨¢n was the one who was the usual troublemaker, at this time however this time was different he discovered, when he raised the fur blanket. A cheap sort bought from Caissin the woodsman more than six years before by Lyr and M¨¢el-Martin.


    The first thing that happened was that Brad¨¢n crushed something beneath his foot, only to yelp loudly when he felt several hard pinches, and what felt akin to half a dozen claws, pinch and tear at his feet.


    Brad¨¢n glanced down at his legs, tearing the fur blanket away to see dozens of angry crabs. He stared in bewilderment even as he struck them from him for two minutes, only for him to hear loud rounds of laughter at his expense, as he did so. Brad¨¢n felt his face heat up, in humiliation in response to the loud snickers that erupted all about him.


    ¡°What is it? Crabs here? How did so many get in here?¡± Brother M¨¢el Martin wondered, as confused as the younger monk was. ¡°Who moved these crabs here? If you do not tell me, at once you will all get the switch.¡±


    Immediately more than half of the lads fell silent, embarrassed and frightened as they knew this to be no idle threat.


    ¡°Well?¡± M¨¢el Martin demanded impatiently.


    ¡°It was Crinen, Brad¨¢ch and the rest of them,¡± Brad¨¢n accused harshly, aware that it must have been that bunch that did this. The number of times he had been tripped, incidents that had up until now, seemed accidental sprang suddenly to his mind.


    ¡°Is this true?¡± M¨¢el Martin asked carefully.


    ¡°No,¡± Crinen answered while Aodh, one of those who usually took Crinen¡¯s side spoke up.


    ¡°It was Brad¨¢ch.¡± He accused.


    ¡°Liar!¡± Brad¨¢ch shouted back, if a little weakly.


    Soon most of the lads began to side against poor Brad¨¢ch, who soon had his voice drowned out by those of the other youths.


    ¡°Enough! It is evident that you had something, to do with this Brad¨¢ch, now is there anything you wish to confess?¡± M¨¢el Martin queried much louder than the young lad who quieted down, in the face of the anger from the adult monk.


    ¡°I-I, yes brother,¡± Brad¨¢ch mumbled when he saw the other lads, staring back at him intently, with silent gazes that intimidated him into silence. ¡°I confess to slipping those crabs into Brad¨¢n¡¯s bed alone.¡±


    ¡°¡®Alone¡¯ you say? Oh never mind, as punishment you will receive two dozen blows despite my doubts given how many crabs are there. While your friends empty the area of crabs so that you can sleep here, while Brad¨¢n will get your bed after I¡¯m finished doling out his punishment. And if I so much as see one crab tomorrow you will all get the switch.¡± The harsh monk growled at all of them, with every lad thoroughly ill-pleased as they realized, all of them were in some way, being made to pay dearly for this little bout of cruel mischief.


    ¡°But I have not done anything!¡± Brad¨¢n objected at once.


    ¡°I doubt that, it would not be the first time you say that to me,¡± The monk bit back at the lad.


    And so it was that he slept with sore legs, arms and feet that night, only to wake up the next day with his usual chores ahead of him. He soon found himself, at the mercy though of the real culprit guilty for having made him suffer, so much the prior night.


    Lyr had sent him off to go fetch some water from the local well. Brad¨¢n had just to say, lowered the first bucket of the two, he had brought when he was struck hard in the back of the head. With a cry of pain, he went sunk to the ground hard, hands coming up to the back of his head.


    ¡°That was for two weeks ago,¡± Someone, a lad, Dubh¨¢n, Brad¨¢n realized a second later said maliciously.


    He blinked in surprise when he saw not just Dubh¨¢n but five other lads and four lasses, none of them from the monastery.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Putting you in your place,¡± ¨¦odain answered coolly, eyes as cold as two icicles, she glared down the lad still clutching at the back of his skull. ¡°And a laird and king¡¯s duty, is to bring down justice upon those, who are guilty.¡±


    ¡°But I have not hurt you, or any of the lasses,¡± this much was certainly true, as Brad¨¢n attempted to avoid them for the most part.


    ¡°But you hit my brother,¡± One lass accused furiously, unwilling to forgive him.


    ¡°He struck back, what of it? Or do you always fight his battles, for him since he does not know how to do it himself?¡± Brad¨¢n growled back, with equal fury.


    ¡°He had to protect himself from you,¡± She spluttered out, not that he cared what she said.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on? What do you mean justice?¡± Brad¨¢n asked of the taller lass, in confusion.


    ¡°I figured that since I am here, I would solve the problems of the area and when I asked, about you nobody seemed to like you. They all agreed that you are a bully.¡± ¨¦odain proclaimed quite proudly as she tossed back her long blonde hair, over her shoulder.


    ¡°You want to solve the problems of this area, by humiliating me?¡± the still seated lad asked sardonically, only to receive a series of glares from, the other children. It took him a few moments to realize why ¨¦odain would feel the need to do such a thing. ¡°What do you think will happen? Your father will simply hurry back and be awed, by what you have done?¡±


    For his brash words, he had the savage pleasure of seeing ¨¦odain flush a bright red colour however; she soon regained her composure only to nod to two of the lads.


    ¡°Have at him!¡± With those words one of the most savage beatings of Brad¨¢n¡¯s life began.


    He did not lose any teeth, eyes or fingers kicked a lot with the lasses picking up stones to throw at him, when the lads had finished kicking or punching him. The only one who did not touch him was ¨¦odain, who preferred to sit and watch.


    Lances of fire sparked up at first in his side, from where the blow landed, and then the rest rained down against his back then legs, then his arms. Brad¨¢n at first attempted to restrain his cries, only to after a few minutes start groaning and crying out in agony.


    ¡°What is going on here?¡± Somebody asked, this voice was older, more concerned than angry.


    ¡°We were just-¡± one lad began to say only to be interrupted mid-speech by ¨¦odain.


    ¡°Scatter!¡± ¨¦odain shouted at her friends who ran for it, at once.


    ¡°Yes run, all of you head home where I shall tell thy parents!¡± the woman shouted after them, but the children were faster than she. ¡°You come back here, this instant ¨¦odain, or so help me I will tell Eibhlin not to feed you later!¡±


    It was R¨ªonal, who had just to say arrived likely by mere chance to his rescue. He wondered how, in the name of all the gods and goddesses, it was that it was R¨ªonal he discovered him to be in danger.


    ¡°Brad¨¢n, is that you? Oh, by Brigid what did they do to you?¡± R¨ªonal asked stunned by how injured he was as she bent down to help him to his feet.


    Brad¨¢n groaned, stricken by pain he reached out a hand to grasp R¨ªonal¡¯s shakily as he looked up at her with a hint of gratitude. He knew that for all his bluster and defiance that she may have just saved his life. Given how wild and out of control the other children were, at the height of the beating, he could have wept so grateful was he for her help.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± He muttered wincing, he sat up with her help with the young widow who continued to study him with a worried look.


    ¡°Why were they beating you?¡± R¨ªonal demanded, a worried frown on her pretty face.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Brad¨¢n answered unsure if this was a lie or not, as he had no idea whether it was even his own fault given ¨¦odain¡¯s motivation.


    ¡°Really?¡± She queried suspiciously only to lose interest it seemed in interrogating him further, ¡°Come along.¡±


    ¡°But I have to get water for the monastery,¡± Brad¨¢n protested weakly only for her to insist.


    ¡°Nonsense let me get that for you, you follow me to Eibhlin¡¯s home where I shall make certain that you are alright.¡± R¨ªonal replied she picked herself up off the ground to fetch his bucket and to fill it with water.


    ¡°Thank you, so you came all this way to get water?¡± the young lad asked confused and wanting to focus on something other than his aching back or limbs.


    ¡°Actually I came here looking for ¨¦odain, who was supposed to have brought back water, some time ago.¡± R¨ªonal explained, grunting a little when she pulled the second bucket away from the well.


    ¡°Give me that,¡± He attempted to grab his bucket from her, but she was faster than he.


    ¡°Let me help thee, now hurry along.¡± R¨ªonal replied, pulling the buckets out of his reach, only to start to hurry away back home.


    Brad¨¢n nodded his head reluctantly, unable to do much more than as he was told. Praying as he did so that, Lyr and Brien would not be half as harsh as M¨¢el-Martin had been towards him, the prior night.


    When they arrived back at the farm, Brad¨¢n was startled to find the bodyguards busy at work, in the fields. Eibhlin was busy at work, helping them with the farming, occasionally glancing over at them, with a critical look in her eyes.


    ¡°Ah there you- Brad¨¢n? What is the matter with you, R¨ªonal? I sent you to find ¨¦odain, and you come back with Brad¨¢n? I should suppose that he will likely prove, far more helpful than she.¡± Eibhlin complained loudly, with a dark look to the duo behind her, when the lad drew nearer though she jumped almost twenty feet into the air, when she caught sight of Brad¨¢n¡¯s bruised face. ¡°What in the name of Ziu¡¯s sword happened to you?¡±


    ¡°It was ¨¦odain,¡± R¨ªonal answered for him, while she put the buckets down in front of the small hovel, she lived in with her good-mother. ¡°She gathered together a small group of children, she put up to beating poor Brad¨¢n.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, come this way, we will have to look at those injuries,¡± Eibhlin sighed with a shake of her grey-haired head.


    Once inside, she had them seat themselves near where the fire was usually lit, on cold nights, with Eibhlin pressing a warm soaked cloth against the youth¡¯s wounds. The cloth had been heated, by putting it near the fire, only to dip it into one of the buckets.


    The hot cloth felt almost painful, but between that or what the monks might do to him he would choose the cloth a thousand times over.


    ¡°You have more talent for sniffing out trouble, than any other person I have ever met hitherto now.¡± Eibhlin grumbled good-naturedly.


    ¡°It was not my fault!¡± Brad¨¢n protested.


    ¡°I know dear,¡± Eibhlin replied as she applied the cloth once more to his face, drawing a wince from him, only to give him an apologetic look. ¡°You ever consider retreating from, those other lads?¡±


    ¡°I am no coward! A real man never flees!¡± Brad¨¢n shouted only to quiet down a little when he saw how annoyed, his shouting made Eibhlin.


    ¡°No they do not; real men shirk their duties, and rush to their deaths.¡± She snapped irritably at him, displeased by his obstinate belief in his male pride. ¡°You are just as my son was at your age.¡±


    ¡°Fionn¨¢n was never involved in any fights at that age!¡± R¨ªonal objected at once, wherefore Eibhlin began to chortle loudly.


    ¡°Oh, he was much worse than you imagine possible R¨ªonal. He just always, hid it from you because he wished to impress you, by showing himself to be more ¡®mature¡¯ than others. He also, sought my advice consistently, to discover what you liked and how you might respond, to his behaving like a rapscallion.¡± Eibhlin explained, eyes glimmering with joy at the chance to discuss her son, something that suddenly filled Brad¨¢n with pity for the old lady.


    How must it feel, to bring someone into this world only to lose him, without any sign or hint of what had happened to him? Only to be forced to avoid discussing him, for fear of upsetting those around her such, as R¨ªonal?


    ¡°Did he fight a lot?¡± Brad¨¢n asked doubtfully before, he could stop himself.


    ¡°Not all the time, but every so often he would come home covered in bruises, or with another lad¡¯s parent trailing after him.¡± Eibhlin confessed with a fond smile to herself, ¡°And of course R¨ªonal did not notice a thing so smitten was she.¡±


    ¡°I was not blind to his flaws.¡± R¨ªonal protested to the amusement of her good-mother who snickered in response.


    ¡°But you were, in time though he ceased fighting altogether, a bit before his fifteenth year.¡± Eibhlin explained almost more to herself as she hurriedly glanced out the door, suddenly remembering the time. ¡°That should do it, grab your bucket and hurry along back to the monastery. I am certain Lyr, is about to die from concern for you.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Brad¨¢n said, secretly he would have preferred to stay with Eibhlin or R¨ªonal to either help with the farm or listen to more stories, about Fionn¨¢n. Someone whom he had only met in passing, over the years, and had never treated him badly at all.


    ¡°Will you be aright?¡± R¨ªonal asked worriedly.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Brad¨¢n answered.


    ¡°Here you are, I will see to it that ¨¦odain apologizes to you,¡± R¨ªonal told him, handing him one of the buckets full of water.


    He bid farewell to the two women, he had inadvertently become friends with, and left straight for the monastery, where he found Lyr waiting for him.


    ¡°Where have you been?¡± Lyr demanded furiously rushing over to Brad¨¢n who had not expected to run into the old man so soon.


    It was then that Lyr noticed that the lad was injured when he gripped him, by the shoulders where he had been kicked repeatedly by the other lads. ¡°-You are injured! What did you do? Get into more fights? Brad¨¢n what have I told you about fighting? I hate it!¡±


    ¡°Nay, I was-¡± Brad¨¢n began to protest only to be interrupted by the furious Lyr.


    ¡°Enough, I¡¯ve heard enough, no more fights, no more lies. I will not beat you but-¡± Lyr had begun to say only to be interrupted mid-speech in turn by Brad¨¢n who scoffed at his words.


    ¡°¡®Lies¡¯ you say? You know all about lies and fighting do you not?¡± Brad¨¢n snapped having hoped that Lyr would take his side even if out of nothing more than because, of his guilt towards Brad¨¢n.


    ¡°Brad¨¢n I just meant that-¡± Once more Lyr did not finish speaking.


    Brad¨¢n fled then, fleeing from the monastery, his first thought being to run straight to Eibhlin¡¯s home only to remember that by now ¨¦odain, would have returned to Eibhlin¡¯s hovel by that hour. This in mind, Brad¨¢n reminded himself that there was only one place that he might be left alone.


    Once there he glanced first in one direction then another, not in the mood for anymore beatings, and keenly aware that he had nowhere else to go.


    The knowledge of how alone he was without any family, or anyone to turn to at such a time stung worse than any beating could. Lyr was against him, as were all the other monks. The farmers hated, it was only a matter of time before Colum, Eibhlin and R¨ªonal would do the same.


    He spent a portion of that evening crying though he wished with all his heart, to stop the flow of tears he could not do so. Once his sobs began, he could not stop, he did not know then whether he wept for his mother whom was murdered shortly after giving birth to him or if he wept for his deceased father. He also did not know if he wept, for the lost chance to have a better life, with them or if he wept for himself. For what he had become, or what he fancied himself; the loneliest lad in the whole of Midgard.


    He did not later, when he fell asleep, only that he did and that it was a deep one that was mostly untroubled. Yet when he did awaken, it was to find that he had fallen asleep on the shore: His right-hand just a few inches from the water, with his head tucked over his left arm, as he rested on the sandy beach.


    He did not know why he had suddenly awoken, when it was still dark, or why he had had to fall asleep in such an unprotected space. The fiery orange on the dark black of the sea, almost more than what any simple country-pumpkin such as Brad¨¢n could ever have imagined.


    At first he could not believe, his eyes at what he saw in the distance; what appeared to be a burning ship. Not a large one, it was only big enough to carry three, maybe four grown men.


    Stunned at the sight of the wreckage in the distance, it was far but not too much so, he realized. Convinced that by the time, he ran for help and then hurried back, the few men on the barge would have drowned, he asked himself quickly: What to do? What would Althus the Great or the B¨®ruma do?


    The answer was one he already knew; they would hurry out there and save those people (so long as they were not a threat to them). Reaching down to untie his sash, and to tug off his robe to make the swim that, much easier. He was soon up to his knees in the water, before he could blink, his robe and his skin shivering almost immediately from the ice cold water that, surged up to meet him.


    The cries of the men who he suspected were traveling from Cymru, given where the ship had been drifting from or so it seemed to him. He soon discovered that the current was against him though, which made his efforts to come to their rescue, that much more difficult.


    Not that it was any easier to swim against the current, with his under-robe and the waves slapping themselves against his face, with no sign of abating. Brad¨¢n fought against them, with all that he had in him, heaving, puffing and growling at the ferocious sea.


    Annoyed, Brad¨¢n felt his heart quiver with fear as he swayed forward, with all that he had. Thankfully, Brad¨¢n was a good swimmer. Not the best in the village as that honour belonged, to the small Colum. What Brad¨¢n did know was from his younger years when the monks, still liked him and from when Colum and he, many years ago used to run away from their lessons together, back when they were six years old.


    The fact that he could no longer touch the bottom sent a spark of panic straight past Brad¨¢n¡¯s stomach as his heart leaped and missed a beat. This fear pushed him further even as every fibre of his being shrieked, at him to turn back and head home where he knew it was safe.


    He noticed then just how close, he was to the ship and that there was another ship approaching, this one from the north and instead of being built in the tiny Cymran, style but an Arnish styled drakkar.


    Instinctively he remembered the old stories, of the Norse folk who in previous centuries and even decades had massacred hundreds monks and even men-folk of ¨¦riu.


    He could see now that there were four people who had fallen from the small boat; Brad¨¢n could see one of the two of the figures swimming towards the shore. Brad¨¢n was split over which one of the two figures in the sea to save. Forced to choose between either robed figure, or the one who had a cloak flung about the figure¡¯s shoulders he was to hesitate if briefly so. Greedy by nature, Brad¨¢n decided to try to save both of them, though he did not realize it immediately.


    A wave of desperation penetrated him, when he glanced up to discover the long-ship was looming nearer and nearer to where he was at present. Close enough to the fire, to feel the heat from it, he redoubled his efforts to escape. As he glanced back at the arms, of the two men he had grabbed he realized that he may have to let go of one of them. But which one?


    The robed man was heavier, due to how much water his voluminous robes, had gathered but who knew whether the other man was any more important or lighter. Considering how it felt, as though he also weighed three times more than Brad¨¢n did, or so it felt to him.


    In the battle between Brad¨¢n and sea, he was losing. For what was man, in the face of nature or more precisely the sea¡¯s wrath? A mere lad, one who though from hardy stock still came from an ascetic life that had never prepared him for such an event. It had also taught him not to value one life over another, though his own experiences had ingrained in him, a certain amount of selfishness.


    He weighed the choices set before him. Later the reasoning behind his choice would fill him with considerable shame. As he chose based, on which one he was less likely to dislike between a monk, and just an average person.


    He chose the traveller, not an easy choice yet still made in a matter of heartbeats. Once this was done, he felt himself become much lighter yet not by a great deal, as he continued to be dragged down by the second man he had chosen to save. Every instinct, in his body screamed to get away and save himself, while he still could.


    Every muscle burning with every movement of his legs and now freed right-arm, Brad¨¢n fought valiantly to bring himself up to the surface. He strained, whipped and warred against his burnt muscles, his strained lungs yet it was still not good enough.


    Brad¨¢n considered letting the one man go, but he was fairly certain that that was too little, too late for any such acts as he continued to lose to and panic, against gravity itself. Darkness, inky and absolute began to engulf him, just as the certainty that the Geraintian Sea would be his grave.


    He began to formulate a quiet almost passive thought in response, to his predicament but between him and the darkness surrounding him.


    Darkness fell, and light seemed to perish forever then, but just as it seemed over for him and for our tale, a burst of light rushed in towards him from out of nowhere.


    The next thing that young Brad¨¢n knew was that he was coughing, hacking and otherwise purging himself, of all the sea-water he had inadvertently drunk, during his ill-planned scheme to save those on the burning boat.


    The next thing he knew was he heard a song. It was unlike any he had ever heard not that he had ever heard much music in his short life. What with how the monks though, they belonged to the faith of the song-goddess, had ceased singing hymns in order to conform better with Quirina¡¯s beliefs and the Scriptures of the Dunstanian Order of monks.


    Once the king Brad¨¢n


    And I were lovers; he was my brightest gemstone,


    I am left to suffer alone,


    Knowing we shall not embrace again,


    East of the hill there stands a town,


    Where the king ruled,


    I sit there now; of a mind to be thrown,


    In twilight, his kin would have Muirgen ridiculed,


    Yet whoever ever loved as fiercely as she?


    No woman now shall be his mate,


    No son nor daughter share his fate,


    No man now shall I ever take,


    None hath ever suffered such heartache.


    Brad¨¢n moved despite his own recent situation, while his eyes began to clear and he felt someone patting, and rubbing his scalp. It was a gesture that was as comforting as it was reminiscent of a time, when he had trusted Lyr.


    ¡°Who-¡± He began to say when he was interrupted by a splashing sound. He caught a flash of gold, fish fins and the dark waves, as he sat up looking about himself, in confusion. ¡°What just happened? Were we not further out to sea?¡±


    The questions were torn from his lips before he could properly sort out his own thoughts, over what had just happened. Had someone saved them? And if so, who?


    And there was a flash of fins. He concluded unable to come up with any alternative solution to this little mystery. Was it one of those merfolks that, Lyr used to tell him stories about?


    Pushing such thoughts from his mind, as he exhaustedly looked over at the man, he had striven so desperately to rescue. The man was tall, much more so than Brad¨¢n, who was still coughing up water, only to blink back at him wearily himself.


    The shocked youngster noticed with a start that the man was not a man. He was in fact a Tigrun, a race of people that Brad¨¢n had never of course met one before in all his life.


    Most of what he had heard was bad, as most people hated them. Believing that they were child-eaters, plague-bringers or otherwise demonic in nature. As there were similar stories told about Ratvians, and given how most Ratvians that Brad¨¢n had met thus far, were either timid or simply quiet by nature, he did not put too much stock in these tales.


    ¡°Never mind that, I must think on where to hide him,¡± Brad¨¢n said to himself, he could put him in Eibhlin¡¯s house, he told himself silently only to correct himself, in his head.


    Who could he turn to? Even if he did ask for help, who could be relied upon to help him, if R¨ªonal and Eibhlin could not be asked for help given how ¨¦odain would notice it immediately?


    Brad¨¢n struggled to remember if there was anyone that he knew who might accept a Tigrun. There was the Ui¡¯Ross family of Ratvians nearby, and they alone, because the Ui¡¯Mantors family of Minotaurs, had been chased away six years prior.


    With a low groan that reminded Brad¨¢n of a cat, he had once hidden in a discrete corner of the kitchen, of the monastery.


    ¡°Are you aright?¡± Brad¨¢n asked him worriedly, praying anxiously as he did so that all of Lyr¡¯s old stories, were all untrue.


    The Tigrun rubbed his forehead, primarily the back of his thickly furred and dark-ponytailed covered skull, with a grimace of pain.


    The man¡¯s eyes resembled very strongly, those of a cat, the lad noticed at once. He was also dark-haired with sandy coloured fur, a muscled physique in spite of the circumstances they had met under, and dark clothes, which were composed of a simple tunic and pants. With a large auburn coloured cloak, of Noren?ian wool thrown over his shoulders that was the only hint, of wealth if it was not for how worn the travel-cloak was.


    ¡°I am-huff-fi-fine,¡± the Tigrun panted as he blinked his eyes at him, ¡°Where is my brother?¡±


    ¡°Brother?¡± Brad¨¢n wondered in confusion.


    Now that he knew that the Tigrun, with the strange accent was alright. He focused on shrugging his robe which soon pressed itself against his skin, almost as wetly and tightly as his under-robe clung to his thin figure. He shivered again, cursing the cold air and his wet-skin under his breath.


    ¡°This is ¨¦riu, is it not?¡± The Tigrun asked in somewhat clumsy ¨¦riu-tongue, as though he were not otherwise as skilled as most from the Emerald Isle, were with its native tongue.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Brad¨¢n confirmed absent-mindedly as he prepared himself to assist the older man to his feet, only for him to climb-up to his feet without Brad¨¢n¡¯s assistance.


    ¡°Where in ¨¦riu?¡± The older man asked, he sat back down to empty his boots of the water that had filled them up.


    ¡°Between laird Maelsnechtan and Colum¡¯s lands,¡± Brad¨¢n replied at once not expecting the older man, to understand from just the mention of the two kings¡¯ names alone.


    ¡°I see, in the area just to say south of Maelsnechtan, and far north from the Ui¡¯B¨®rumas.¡± the Tigrun remarked distractedly, as he finished replacing his boots back on his large furred and clawed feet.


    Brad¨¢n was stunned that he knew so much about the Emerald Isle and her inhabitants in particular her clans. Few even among the inhabitants of the isle could disentangle the tangled web of clans, kings and lairds who ruled over the lands south of the Warlock-King. Familiar, with the geography Brad¨¢n knew little about the history of his own people, despite being literate thanks to his time in the monastery. He had never been taught, anything other than how to survive, and the basics of theology.


    ¡°You are the one who saved me?¡± the stranger asked him.


    ¡°I tried, though I did not succeed in saving your brother,¡± Brad¨¢n answered without thought, making the assumption that the robed figure was this man¡¯s brother. There was nobody else he had seen after-all.


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®tried¡¯?¡± the older man queried sharply, evidently suspicious of him.


    ¡°I do not-I think someone else who helped us, right before that drakkar appeared, was the one who saved us.¡± Brad¨¢n explained weakly, with a small helpless shrug as the Tigrun stroked his furred chin, thoughtfully at those words.


    ¡°Could it have been Ronald?¡± He murmured more to himself, than to his increasingly impatient saviour.


    ¡°Who is Ronald?¡± He questioned in frustration, hating having knowledge kept from him.


    ¡°My brother,¡± the Tigrun retorted even more impatiently than him, ¡°What is thy name lad?¡±


    ¡°Brad¨¢n,¡± Was the retort. ¡°And who are you?¡±


    ¡°I am Fergus the Pardiff,¡± Fergus introduced himself with more than a little pride, as he drew himself up a bit, despite remaining seated on the beach.


    ¡°What is a ¡®Pardiff¡¯?¡± Brad¨¢n asked confused by the term, the Tigrun had bandied about as though it were self-explanatory.


    ¡°Think of us as a kind of minstrel or bard,¡± Fergus explained annoyed by his naivet¨¦. ¡°You truly are an ignorant lad.¡±


    Brad¨¢n flushed red. Insulted by the condescension in the Tigrun¡¯s voice, he had to repress the urge to snap back, he did however grumble. ¡°I did not have to save you.¡±


    ¡°Very well, my apologies and my thanks to you for saving me. Now you said, you could not save my brother?¡± Fergus said to him gruffly.


    ¡°Was he the one in the robe?¡± Brad¨¢n asked thoughtfully.


    ¡°Aye! Did he drown, or did he make it onto a piece of driftwood?¡± Fergus questioned intently, eager to hear about his sibling who was possibly lost at sea.


    Fergus stared at him, until he began to squirm a little, before he finally answered hesitantly, ¡°I do not know as a ship came from the north as though it knew to expect you, and I think it took two people aboard. I attempted to help someone in robes, but when I let him go to save you, he drifted away and I am not sure of what became of him.¡±


    Fergus lunged at him with a growl faster than what Brad¨¢n had ever believed possible for anyone to move at, as he clumsily attempted to pull himself away from the Tigrun, at the last moment only to fail to do so.


    ¡°You left my brother, to die?¡± Fergus roared in a fit of rage, as he grabbed the lad by the front of his robes.


    ¡°N-nay, I had to save one of you, and he was too heavy!¡± Brad¨¢n grunted back, startled and frightened of the half-man, convinced that he had in fact lost his mind in his grief.


    ¡°But Ronald-wait, you said you lost consciousness correct?¡± Fergus demanded of the monk, who gave a quiet anxious nod, his frozen mind. ¡°If true, he must have been the one who saved us, which means he might still be alive.¡±


    Brad¨¢n was sceptical, not because of how he had seen the robed man¡¯s arm drifting off but because the chances that this Ronald had survived long enough to be rescued extremely unlikely.


    ¡°I do not mean to doubt you, but he drifted off likely to the bottom of the sea.¡± The lad replied with as much delicacy in his voice as.


    ¡°Do not pity before you have heard, the whole tale; we were traveling with a man by the name of Edrich, and he attempted to free the woman we were traveling with, when he knocked me down, only for Ronald to strike him dead.¡± The feline explained patiently.


    Still sceptical, the young lad felt a great deal of doubt for this story, but he had one last question as he had lost interest, in this Ronald.


    Why transport her across the Geraintian Sea, when they could have had her punished in the lands and by the laws of Cymru, rather than in the nearby lawless ¨¦riu?


    ¡°What about this woman?¡± Brad¨¢n asked curiously.


    ¡°Most women I have met, are as true as the goddess Brigantia, and as wise as the Norsemen¡¯s believe good Oein to be. Yet this one is quite simply, the most evil creature I have met in all my life.¡± Fergus said quietly.


    ¡°Who is she?¡± He queried but the time for questions, was at an end.


    ¡°Never you mind that, I am tired and need rest so that I can begin the quest to find my twin.¡± Fergus retorted dismissively, he let go of Brad¨¢n, as he glanced around in search of a place to hide. ¡°Now I must hide until I am better rested, tell me Brad¨¢n are there any Tigruns near here?¡±


    ¡°None that I know of, but there is a Ratvian family near here.¡± Brad¨¢n explained, ¡°They do not live far from here and they are very friendly, I can vouch for that.¡±


    ¡°But of course they are,¡± Fergus muttered more to himself before he added, ¡°Why is it always rats that I must take refuge with?¡±


    ¡°They are not so terrible as all that,¡± Brad¨¢n snapped now regretting having saved this highly irritable Tigrun.


    ¡°No, it is not that there is aught wrong with them, it is just that I was once locked in a cell for two weeks, with naught but such folks for company. Those Ratvians, were too cheerful and smelly for my taste.¡± Fergus replied good-naturedly, amused by his defence of the non-humans. ¡°Though, it is good to see you care so much for them.¡±


    Brad¨¢n flushed scarlet from embarrassment at the praise, he had just received, unused to any praise at all.


    ¡°I only hope these Ratvians bathe more than those; I spent so much time with.¡± Fergus stated without too much heat to his voice.


    He rushed along guiding the taller man to the home of the Ui¡¯Ross clan of Ratvians. The large family lived on the edge of the lands owned, by the monastery. They had arrived some fifteen years before Brad¨¢n was born. Given permission, if reluctantly so, to farm the smallest slice of lands which was the least arable or so went the story. And yet, the family had not just survive but had prospered.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.Not of their blood and though born on the monastery doorstep, Colum had always been welcomed among the family as if one of their own, and as his closest friend so was Brad¨¢n. The house was in shoddy condition, as the Ui¡¯Rosses were poor even by peasant standards, and had come to recently rely on a good deal of charity, the year before, and had perhaps half the land the rest of the locals were each given. The only good thing they could boast of, regarding their home was its proximity to the sea, and the privacy they had from everyone else.


    It did not take long for them to come to see who it was knocking, at their door barely two minutes after Brad¨¢n struck a heavy fist against the wooden door.


    ¡°Aye, who is it? What an ungodly hour to be banging on a man¡¯s door!¡± Someone complained loudly from the other side of the door, only to throw it open with obvious open-mouthed shock when he saw who it was. ¡°Oh, Brad¨¢n it is you, why are you out at such a time? Did something happen?¡±


    Explaining himself quickly, the youth shivered as he did so. To his relief, the farmer listened without interrupting even once.


    A patience worker, just as he was a good listener, Gob¨¢n merely raised an eyebrow the more he went on, only to glance apprehensively once he had finished, in the direction of the Tigrun.


    ¡°This is Fergus,¡± Brad¨¢n introduced as he glanced between the two non-humans, who both still seemed anxious and unsure of one another. ¡°Um, he needs a place to stay.¡±


    ¡°I see, um and I suppose the monastery has no desire to take in another ¡®sub-human¡¯?¡± Gob¨¢n asked worriedly as he glanced over at the Tigrun who scowled at the term ¡®sub-human¡¯.


    ¡°He needs to stay for but a short time if you wish to,¡± Brad¨¢n said once more, this time a tad more impatiently.


    There was a pregnant silence that followed his words, Gob¨¢n considered the plight of the silent Tigrun who gave the Ratvian a weary look, along with a small smile. To the surprise of all three of the males a voice, spoke up that did not belong to any of them.


    ¡°Gob¨¢n, my love what is it? You have been talking with young Brad¨¢n for quite some time, what is so important that it must be discussed at so late an hour?¡± It was Gob¨¢n¡¯s wife, Miriam¡¯s voice, which was heard from further inside the small house.


    ¡°Uhh,¡± Gob¨¢n stuttered unsure of what to say to her only for Fergus to intervene on his behalf.


    ¡°I will if you should like sleep in the stable, if that is alright then we will discuss this matter in the morn, with your lady love.¡± Fergus told the rodent in a voice so soothing, it could have calmed an enraged lion on the brink of starvation. The Ratvian smiled in relieved gratitude, giving his permission at once to this new proposal.


    ¡°Thank you, I shall bring thee some furs and something to drink.¡± Gob¨¢n promised not unkindly as he closed the door so as to speak hurriedly with his still half-asleep family, his voice barely heard through the wooden so soft was his voice.


    ¡°My thanks lad, now I need rest just as surely as you likely need and thirst for it,¡± Fergus uttered with a tired smile that drew a slow nod from the young lad.


    Still aware of the conflict that continued to exist between Lyr and him, in his exhaustion though it suddenly did not seem as important as it previously seemed. Brad¨¢n turned away after silently swearing to return to look in on the Pardiff.


    Slipping inside with ease, without waking anyone up as there were no guards and no monks in the children¡¯s quarters, where he slipped into his bed only to check for crabs first.


    When he awoke though, it was done suddenly, not that he felt any less ready for the day when he was shaken awake by Colum, around midnight. This was the time, all monks awoke to see to their prayers.


    ¡°Wake up Brad¨¢n,¡± he hissed as he shook him, he garnered only an annoyed groan from the human, who was sure that he had only slept for an hour or so. ¡°Lyr has been looking all over for you.¡±


    That caught the taller lad¡¯s attention, he blinked sleepily in surprise only to ask in hesitant alarm, ¡°Have you told him where I am?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, I only just realized you have been here the whole time,¡± Colum stated impatiently with a glance towards the door. ¡°Hurry, he is very afraid and if Brien or any of the others find you first, they will punish you severely for not appearing before him, at once.¡±


    Sitting up quickly, Brad¨¢n climbed up to his feet as swiftly as he could, eager to avoid more trouble with the heads of the small cell by the sea.


    ¡°Where is he?¡± Brad¨¢n inquired of his friend.


    ¡°He is outside, where he is in the midst of questioning everyone who comes along about whither you might have gone to,¡± Colum answered only to puff up with visible pride. ¡°I was the only one who thought to search inside, as you are frequently overlooked when all others tend to wake up at this hour.¡±


    Brad¨¢n nodded his head, he trailed after the other lad. He guessed the other monks were given the early hour, likely to be in the Temple in the midst of lighting the candles and beginning to read from the Canticle.


    Once outside, they slipped away from the living quarters, towards the temple doors where Lyr could be seen speaking to everyone, who approached the Temple. The lads approached him from behind, with Brad¨¢n only now remembering his previous disagreement, with the old monk.


    ¡°Umm, brother Lyr, I found him,¡± Colum announced once they were within hearing distance of the old man who whipped around to face them. ¡°He was asleep.¡±


    ¡°My lad! I was worried sick for you!¡± Lyr cried out as he rushed up to the lad, to throw his arms around his shoulders, weeping as he did so.


    ¡°Are you alright, lad? You did not hurt yourself on your way, back did you?¡± Lyr asked of him, as his voice rose an octave, almost hysterically so after his sobs had ceased. This exclamation drew some snickers and some stares all of which heavily embarrassed the lad, tried to ignore everyone around him.


    ¡°Are you quiet finished embarrassing us both?¡± Brad¨¢n asked sharply, his words and irritated tone flew over the head of the old man, at that moment.


    ¡°Oh, Brad¨¢n do not ever scare us like that ever again, else the suns may as well fail to rise, the wind cease to blow and all the seas dry.¡± Lyr cried out, in the same voice any loving parent would have used at that moment. ¡°I do not think your mother would ever forgive me, were anything to happen to you!¡±


    Brad¨¢n fidgeted, unhappily as he longed to scold the old monk yet was sharply aware then of how all around him might react to such an outburst.


    Once he had recovered, enough to swallow his tears, and lack of composure as he wiped his moist cheeks and eyes with the cloth of his robe¡¯s sleeves. Lyr smiled sincerely, at his much loved charge, only to let him breath once more. Finally able to speak, somewhat more reasonably, the cellarer of the monastery put his hands on the lad¡¯s shoulders, only to press a hand to his right-cheek.


    ¡°My lad, it is purely by the goodness of the gods that you are herein good health,¡± He whispered ignoring how the lad pulled back from his ¡®friend¡¯s hand. ¡°We must pray now, to the gods to properly thank them for thy safe return.¡±


    Hissing irritably, Brad¨¢n would have refused when he remembered how close he was to dying the night before. This along with the fact that he could see ¨¦odain smirking at him, from over Lyr¡¯s shoulder convinced him that it might be wise, to attend the Session of the temple.


    As Lyr rose to his feet to help guide the two children, into the temple a pleased look on his face while Brad¨¢n nodded his head at ¨¦odain, which drew a grim yet worried glance from Colum.


    For Colum, it did not much matter where the scales of power tilted to, since out of all the children, most tended to bully him with there being little difference between one tyrant or another.


    The monks did not much take notice of the arrival of the three of them, with Brien busy with his own prayers. Brother M¨¢el-Martin, as sacrist supervised the Session and read from the Canticle. It took several hours before the Session was over, with Brad¨¢n listening attentively though not the most pious lad he still felt, some reverence for the Temple and its writings. Despite his boredom, when the Romalian chant was sung or shouted out, with the lad understanding some of what was said. Not that it eased his feelings, of frustration or the dullness of the Session.


    When it ended, Lyr was reluctant to let Brad¨¢n out of his sight much to the annoyance of the lad.


    Though he did intend to run off to see Fergus, he decided to get the water so desperately needed for Lyr¡¯s recipes and to the wine and beer, the adults loved so much. Bucket in hand, alone and vulnerable once more for the first time since his beating the day before. He did not give this vulnerability much thought, until he heard a voice speak up behind him, just as he finished filling up the two buckets with the well-water.


    ¡°Hello Brad¨¢n, we meet again, once more,¡± ¨¦odain said to him from behind him, startling him as he finished pulling up his full bucket. ¡°Are you prepared to discuss what we discussed yesterday, once more?¡±


    He could run away, but without a diversion, he had no doubt that he would be grabbed before he could make it very far, especially with his still aching legs. Placing the bucket next to the well carefully, as he glanced about unsurprised by the fact that he was once more surrounded just as he had been, the day before.


    ¡°I do not remember much of anything remotely resembling a discussion.¡± Brad¨¢n replied defiantly, as he raised his chin when he turned to face her.


    ¡°Aye, entirely thanks to us putting you in thy place,¡± One lad commented with a snicker.


    ¡°And you all intend to do so once more?¡± Brad¨¢n asked trying to buy time.


    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± Confirmed one lass.


    ¡°And how would I avoid such a fate?¡± Brad¨¢n queried with false anxiety, as he did not fear these pups, for he had battled against the sea itself.


    ¡°You are willing to surrender already?¡± ¨¦odain exulted triumphantly as she thought it over only to remember, her father¡¯s rituals wherein his enemies submitted wholly and completely to him. ¡°Kiss my feet.¡±


    There was a titter of laughter that rippled through the group of children, startled by the sudden demand of the young lad, who hesitated only to reply in the affirmative to the shock of those around him. ¡°Certainly, but um, my legs still ache though therefore if you could come closer I could do so properly.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± ¨¦odain agreed at once.


    The nearer she drew to him, the faster his heartbeat pounded in his chest, until he wondered how in the name of holy Brigantia the other children could not hear, his heart.


    Unaware of this, ¨¦odain spoke down to him, still convinced he was on the verge of submission. ¡°Well then, Brad¨¢n is this close enough?¡±


    Measuring the distance, with his dark eyes he shook his head at her, ¡°No, not yet.¡±


    ¡°Oh, very well, after this though mayhap the accounts for the taxes of the area will have to be examined, and you should be able to sneak on into Brother Brien¡¯s chambers, to fetch me those records.¡± She was saying greedily to the alarm of the young monk, who almost stumbled.


    Outrage in his heart, along with piety in his mind, Brad¨¢n was to place rather slowly at first, his hands near the feet of the highborn lass. He bowed his head, only to once his head was at knee level, grasp her by the ankles.


    He then rose up, threw her up and over his head, and down into the well behind him.


    He was to later remember this moment with more than a little smugness not for how little she weighed, or the terror it inspired in others but for her great scream of terror and the ¡®sploosh¡¯ sound that resulted when the lass hit the water far below.


    A loud cackle escaped his lips thence, as the other children gaped in shock, Brad¨¢n grabbed his bucket and ran off from the well, up the road towards the monastery. The other lads and lasses, may have charged after him if it was not for the panic that gripped them, and ¨¦odain herself, who yelled out in abject terror, distracting them. ¡°Somebody help me! Do something!¡±


    Brad¨¢n did not hear much more from her, after that the remainder of the day, as he delivered the water to Lyr. He then fled, to bring some bread and vegetables to the secluded barn of the rarely visited family of Gob¨¢n. It was there he was surprised to discover, Fergus out assisting with the herd of sheep the family prized, above all else.


    ¡°What are you doing out and about?¡±


    ¡°It was brought to my attention that nobody comes here, and thus I remembered a phrase my old da¡¯ once said; ¡®he who does not work, should never enjoy the boons of any harvest¡¯.¡± Fergus replied with a cheery chuckle, as the lad offered up the food in the basket, he had brought with him.


    ¡°Here you are, I brought you some food, so as to not o¡¯ertax the Ui¡¯Rosses for their kindness.¡± Brad¨¢n said warmly, to the cat-man¡¯s surprise, and gratitude at the proffered gift.


    ¡°Thank you, young Brad¨¢n but I must decline as the lady Miriam, has overfed me already by this time.¡± Fergus informed him with a snicker at the blushing housewife, seeing the disappointment on his face though, the Tigrun made a bold yet compassionate suggestion. ¡°Why not offer the food to the children, and their lady-mother, in my stead?¡±


    The idea was unexpected yet not one that Brad¨¢n would question, since if the Tigrun was full, why leave the food to rot, when Gob¨¢n¡¯s litter of five, were perpetually hungry?


    ¡°Wait, children,¡± Gob¨¢n called out weakly, his humility not allowing him to accept this act of charity.


    ¡°It is quite aright, eat up if Fergus will not,¡± Brad¨¢n insisted good-naturedly, to the shy cheers of the children, who grabbed and gobbled down the food.


    Unused to admiration, Brad¨¢n flushed as always, a bright scarlet colour from his neck all the way to his ears, when they thanked him profusely. The eldest of the children, was a tall young lad of eleven, who came up to Brad¨¢n¡¯s chin. He was named P¨¤draig, after some hero from five or six centuries ago, though Brad¨¢n was not entirely sure, he was his favourite of the Ratvian children.


    ¡°How is Colum? Is he to visit us, this week?¡± P¨¤draig asked hopefully, tugging on Brad¨¢n¡¯s sleeve as he did so.


    The lad was amused by how excited they got at the mere sound of Colum¡¯s name. He was also entertained by how Gillian¡¯s eyes seemed to light up, more than those of her younger siblings (she was the eldest of all five siblings, at fourteen years of age).


    ¡°He is still hale, I suppose,¡± Brad¨¢n answered lightly, with a glance at the fields and at Fergus who had returned to work, on the field. Realizing that he had interfered with the gathering of the harvest, Brad¨¢n was nonetheless buoyed by the gratitude of the Ui¡¯Rosses, he made an impulsive offer that would have annoyed Brien and Lyr. ¡°Would you care for some assistance?¡±


    ¡°You wish to help us?¡± Gob¨¢n asked intrigued by the offer, or so his face revealed.


    ¡°We could not possibly accept,¡± Miriam began to refuse, with Brad¨¢n insisting in response.


    ¡°Why not? Colum helps here all the time,¡± He retorted stubbornly with Gob¨¢n smiling a little.


    ¡°Do you know anything about farming?¡± He asked politely.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Brad¨¢n affirmed having previously worked on the farm nearest to the monastery several times, and at Eibhlin¡¯s farm in recent days.


    Gob¨¢n handed him a scythe, and so the cutting of wheat continued with the human lad spending the next few hours shirking his duties to Lyr, in favour of farming. Afterwards he would decline an offer of food from Miriam, before he accompanied Fergus into the barn, eager for his company, and to know more about the strange Pardiff.


    ¡°I pray that Ronald is safe and eating, as well as I will this night,¡± Fergus remarked as he seated on the ground, next to the pen of a few fat pigs.


    ¡°He is a Tigrun too, right? From Cymru?¡± Brad¨¢n queried of the Tigrun who wrinkled his nose at the stench of the pigs.


    ¡°No, we are from further north, from the lands of Caledonia from just east of the ritual center, Sgain.¡± Fergus explained as he stretched his weary legs from where he sat.


    ¡°What is Caledonia, like?¡± The lad questioned fascinated.


    ¡°Not all that different from here; with high mountains, stormy sea and strong folks, young Brad¨¢n.¡± The Pardiff replied with a raised brow, amused by his thirst for knowledge, and songs of the past.


    ¡°There must be some differences between our lands and peoples, what of your kings? Or lairds?¡± Brad¨¢n asked full of questions.


    ¡°Wait, one question at a time!¡± the Tigrun interrupted with a short laugh. ¡°I would have supposed you would be more curious about ¨¦riu.¡±


    ¡°I am, but I doubt you know much about ¨¦riu,¡± Brad¨¢n answered earnestly with Fergus smiling weakly.


    ¡°True though, I may know more than some in Caledonia,¡± the Tigrun replied with a shrug, he added inquisitively, ¡°How much do you know about your own history?¡±


    ¡°I know that the son of the goddess, P¨¤draig was sold to Quirina five or six centuries ago, by slavers only to be freed by the Grand Divan. The Grand Divan freed him, and taught him the lore of the gods and Temple, with P¨¤draig dubbed the ¡®Green Douvain¡¯, before he was sent back to ¨¦riu to reform the isle¡¯s faith. He was also to see if the gods, of the Emerald Isle would support their efforts, which they did. Or so goes the story,¡± Brad¨¢n told him, remembering the old tales of how the first monasteries and temples were established, in his homeland. ¡°And so the gods made peace, and in thanks to P¨¤draig, the gods put his image in the skies, amongst the stars, where he can still be seen. Clover in hand, and with his other hand raised to tame the crow which represents Badb the war-goddess of the Wild Folks.¡±


    Fascinated the Tigrun rubbed his chin, then hands together pensively, before he remarked. ¡°I have never seen this set of constellations.¡±


    ¡°I once heard Brien say that these stars, only form that shape here and that in Quirina, Brigantia¡¯s constellation takes point or so his teacher once told him. I think he once made a pilgrimage, to the city of the Temple, which proved this theory.¡± Brad¨¢n explained proud of his memory that had allowed him to know something, a minstrel did not.


    ¡°I imagine, some of the gods were ill-impressed when the Warlock-King arrived on thy shores.¡± Fergus declared solemnly.


    His remark took Brad¨¢n by surprise, and made him think though he was not entirely sure, he understood the point that Fergus was trying to make. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean that if P¨¤draig, did manage to pacify the gods and convince them of the value of unity, as well as to care for their followers, they likely did not care for how their people are being slaughtered, by the Warlock-King.¡± The Pardiff explained, running his hand through his hair as he spoke.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Brad¨¢n responded only now catching onto, what the Tigrun meant as he supposed that it was one way of looking at the situation. ¡°Do you know anything about the Warlock-King?¡±


    ¡°Not a great deal though I doubt many know much of anything about the dread king.¡± Fergus answered with a shiver of fear, or so it appeared.


    ¡°Still do you know anything about him and the B¨®ruma?¡± Brad¨¢n asked fascinated by the hero of the south, who had defended the monasteries and forced it is said, the Vikings to kneel before the men of ¨¦riu.


    ¡°Such a story is a long one, I imagine, and I know only a few pieces of the tale. Which I was taught by a combination of the library in the Tower of Sorcery and from an ¨¦riu-born monk, I met almost a year ago.¡± Fergus informed him uncertainly, only to add honestly.¡°He would know more about ¨¦riu than I, who knows more songs about Caledonia and Cymru.¡±


    ¡°Oh, who is this monk?¡± Brad¨¢n queried with his friend looking unsurprised by the question.


    ¡°A man of mixed northern and ¨¦riu birth, banished by his Cymran monastery, I suppose that he might be tempted to return soon. Though, if Colwyn has anything to say about it, he will be stuck in Cymru, for a very long time,¡± Fergus remarked with an amused glint in his eyes.


    ¡°Colwyn?¡± He asked confused by the name, mentioned by the Pardiff.


    ¡°A Cymran friend, I met a short time ago, he is quite attached to Neil though the monk may eat everything including the mortar and wood, of the Cymran¡¯s newly won castle.¡± The Tigrun commented fondly.


    The lad raised an eyebrow at this description of a monk who did not sound quite like, how the monks told him the best of their ranks, should behave. ¡°Did he adventure with you?¡±


    ¡°A little, and we spent some time in Maelgwyn¡¯s dungeon, he was imprisoned for his defiance towards the Onyx King, as some call this laird. It was in the king¡¯s cells, where he taught me a series of songs from his homeland.¡± Fergus explained with a glance out the door where the suns could be seen beginning their descent.


    ¡°And that¡¯s when you learnt of the B¨®ruma?¡± Brad¨¢n inquired still fascinated by this story, yet having lost none of his focus on his own isle¡¯s tales.


    ¡°You are obsessed.¡± Fergus grumbled to the annoyance of Brad¨¢n, who had some sharp words of his own which were, soon left by the wayside when the Tigrun sighed in fatigue. ¡°You bring me supplies and I will tell you the story from the beginning tomorrow.¡±


    Brad¨¢n brightened considerably. The possibility of learning more about his people and heroes pleased him immensely, before he headed back to the monastery he stopped along the way at Eibhlin¡¯s house. There he was to peek inside, to see to his satisfaction ¨¦odain, was still shivering, with a fur cloak having been thrown about her tiny shoulders.


    Good, he told himself, perhaps this would put an end to their silly rivalry, as it had already wearied him to no end. Once he ran off back to the monastery where he discovered Lyr to be ill-pleased by his shirking of his duties.


    ¡°Next time return from Eibhlin and R¨ªonal¡¯s house immediately.¡± Lyr grunted sharply, believing that Brad¨¢n had spent another evening over with the women, ¡°Now go help Colum, and I by cutting up those fresh tomatoes.¡±


    As he did so, he was instructed just as the human soon did, when he accepted a proffered knife from his friend who smiled at him.


    ¡°What do you do over there?¡± the smaller lad asked him curiously, ¡°Over with the two of them, all day?¡±


    Brad¨¢n shrugged as he blurted out in reply, ¡°Listen to stories and help with the farm mostly.¡±


    ¡°What kind of stories?¡± the Ratvian asked curiously, as he leant forward whiskers aquiver.


    ¡°I asked to be told about ¨¦riu, though I was not told much,¡± Brad¨¢n admitted wishing that he had heard something. Even if it had only been, a vague description of the B¨®ruma¡¯s personality, or how he came to his end, after having been successful for so long. That was when an idea occurred to him, as he remembered how some of the monks were supposed to be taught, something of ¨¦riu¡¯s history. ¡°Lyr what do you know, of ¨¦riu?¡±


    ¡°A lot more than those women would,¡± Lyr snorted irritably, the monk then grunted as he tasted the stew he was brewing. ¡°All you need do to learn more, is listen to the Temple Sessions, to hear what you wish to hear.¡±


    Brad¨¢n shot the old man an annoyed look that he missed, ¡°I meant that I would like to hear the tales of the B¨®ruma, not the stories of the isle in Romalian.¡±


    ¡°B¨®ruma?¡± Queried the monk incredulously, before he shook his head, ¡°I will not tell you such a story.¡±


    ¡°But-¡± He began to insist but was cut off.


    ¡°My decision is final, Brad¨¢n.¡± Lyr stated firmly, his voice angry to the surprise of his young charge.


    Brad¨¢n gaped at him in confusion, he had never been told to be quiet before or been denied knowledge, in such an angry manner by Lyr. Why would he react so? Especially given that all the youth wanted from him, was a few harmless questions answered.


    A quick glance in his direction, Lyr saw the look on his face and the nervousness on Colum¡¯s, with a sigh the cook spoke up more calmly this time. ¡°I will speak to you of the tales, of the Ui¡¯Athulfs, and naught more, understood?¡± Both bewildered lads nodded swiftly, with a short nod Lyr began his tale. ¡°Athulf was born from a combination, of Conn¡¯s line, he was the fifth son of the heir of that house, the then Ard R¨ª. When his father was slain and his throne usurped by Thurston, a man of mixed heritage also. Athulf would be sent as a hostage with his eight brothers, to Thurston, only to escape and seek asylum in his mother¡¯s homeland. Her homeland lay across the sea, over in Britia, which at the time was invaded, by forces from across the sea. Athuld was thus raised alongside the founder of a great Britian house, Horn. Athulf would in time embark upon many series of adventures, most of them taking place in Brigantia, or far to the east and south of here. In time Athulf would win the hand, of Thurstan¡¯s daughter, Reynild, and become his heir in the old R¨ª¡¯s latter years. Crowned the ruler of ¨¦riu, he would prove to be one of the wealthiest rulers in the Emerald Isle¡¯s history, nicknamed the ¡®Golden King¡¯, and ¡®Athulf of the Nine-Hostages¡¯. His was a great reign, with two great dynasties claiming descent from him.


    From Athulf would spring a new line of kings, one which would later have a strangle-hold on the title of ¡®Ard R¨ª¡¯ though the reality never quite matched their claims. The first in this line was L¨®egaire, his eldest son and heir, who initially succeeded him, and maintain his father¡¯s influence. L¨®egaire had inherited none of his father¡¯s good-nature though, and was more in the mould of his mother¡¯s father, in that he preferred oath-breaking and using violence to achieve his goals. The trouble for him was that a monk had arrived from the mainland, from the land of Parmenia, having been sold there, by slavers. This monk, was from ¨¦riu, and was named P¨¤draig the Holy, of part-divine birth, he had no mortal father, and was determined to bring some of the teachings he had seen abroad, to his homeland. L¨®egaire, for his part was attached to the Wild Faith, and clung to it rather stubbornly. Only to make many oaths to some of the first lairds and kings who converted to the Quirinian Faith, with L¨®egaire also annoying others by making peace-oaths and truces only to break them, in his war against his enemies and also this new faith. P¨¤draig though, came to strongly dislike L¨®egaire, and cursed him and his line, so that this king died later between two great hills, long after he had made countless attempts to be rid, of P¨¤draig. His son, Lugaid would succeed him, it is said that because of this curse which held that the direct line of the Ui¡¯Athulfs, was destined to gradually lose power and influence, until they were to lose the throne. Lugaid though, had lesser ambitions, and was motivated by a thirst for revenge, with P¨¤draig having to evade many murder attempts by this ruler, before Lugaid was at last killed by lightning it is said.


    His successor, was his cousin Muirchertach, whom though he clung to the old faith of ¨¦riu, did so with considerable caution towards the new, popular faith. As they clashed over the course of the next few generations, it would be Muirchertach¡¯s nephew Diarmait, who was to be the first to convert, to the new faith.


    It is also after Diarmait¡¯s reign, that things become complicated, with the southern Ui¡¯Athulf and northern Ui¡¯Athulf lines, splitting. The former being descended from Muirchertach, and the latter through Diarmait, with the two lines sinking into bloody wars and feuds against one another, that lasted for centuries. What is particularly notable, is how some of the other kingdoms of ¨¦riu, broke off from Athulf¡¯s attempt at unification, begun a century prior, and how each kingdom, soon disintegrated even more.The Ui¡¯Athulfs, in contrast to their ancestor had thus forgotten, the importance of kinship and the law, as they slaughtered one another, and broke up into smaller lines, the more distant they grew from each other.


    It was not until the year 394 S.D. that a new kingly line arose, as someone pulled Caladbohlg, from Athulf¡¯s throne, a feat not seen since the days of Muirchertach. This mystical sword, you see was put in the throne of the king, with his crown trapped beneath the blade, by P¨¤draig himself. As a means of guaranteeing only a worthy and good monarch could pull the sword. Naturally, most assumed that pure royal blood was also a condition, but when a pick-pocket by the name of Ryence, succeeded in claiming the blade, the Ui¡¯Diarmaits and Ui¡¯Muirchertachs¡¯ were naturally stunned. Ryence, tied his fortunes with the Mide royal line, and moving to unify many of the kingdoms further south, leaving the Ui¡¯Athulfian line bottled up in the north. By now though, they had become fat and lazy, and unworthy of kingship, and cared little for the Brehon laws.


    Ryence was an incredible king, sometimes called by his detractors the ¡®Thief King¡¯, for having been a thief and for having ¡®stolen¡¯ the rightful throne of the Ui¡¯Athulfs. But it was his by right; the trouble was that while he would work tirelessly to unify the isle, he was bound for disappointment. He conquered eleven great R¨ªs of ¨¦riu, only to fail to bring the north to heel. Later his beloved wife threw herself off a mountaintop and into the sea, when their children were killed, by the Ui¡¯Athulfs, in an act of treachery. By then, old and with his realm on the verge of fragmentation, Ryence nominated his grandson as heir, but right before he died, he outlived this lad, only to appoint another. This proved a poor choice, as Ryence¡¯s grandson¡¯s heir was a tyrannical, mad monster, who soon earned the ire of all those who followed him. This tyrant sired almost thirty daughters, who wed into almost every kingdom. His own grandson¡¯s heir though, fought tirelessly, to restore the family¡¯s fortunes, but alas Donnchad, the heir in question, was bound for failure and loss.


    He soon lost all he had also, and was even eventually captured, humiliated and blinded by the Ui¡¯Athulf R¨ª, Athulf of the Muiredach line. This destroyed Donnchad¡¯s hopes for the future, and he died a broken hermit on some mountain in the south. It is said though, that his sons tried to stand up for him, but were soon beaten down also. Thus, the Ui¡¯Athulf line temporarily reclaimed their fortunes, namely through another Athulf, who was gifted with a talented son by the name of Niall. Niall was the finest warrior, of his time, and would push his father¡¯s kingdom further and further south, at the expense of the Ui¡¯Ryence line. Niall though, upon succeeding his father, would do much to pursue his work, only to pass away peacefully, in his old age, the first Ard R¨ª to do so in some time. His heir was Duibh, and he was a markedly different man, with a vastly different fate before him. But this is where I will end the tale for the moment, as it is getting late and you have other duties to attend to lads.¡±


    Ushered from the kitchen to the sleeping quarters of the lad-monk most of whom gazed upon Brad¨¢n with renewed fear having learnt once more not to defy or try to fight, the largest of their numbers. It was with no small amount of satisfaction that the lad noted how swiftly the other lads scurried out of his way.


    Colum shot him a confused and startled look at this odd and highly unexpected reception by the others. Brad¨¢n ignored him, now was not the time to tell him of how he had reclaimed his dominance, over the other youths that would have to wait until the next day. The next day though saw him, steal away more food for Fergus, whom, he discovered on his arrival to be just waking up as it was still dark out.


    ¡°Wha-? Brad¨¢n? What are you doing here?¡± He asked startled by the closing of the barn door.


    ¡°I got you food, now tell me of the B¨®ruma,¡± Brad¨¢n told him urgently, holding up a deer-skin bag full of food.


    ¡°When I said to gather some supplies for me, I meant to-night, but I suppose now works as well. As I will be lending my assistance to the farming, before I leave in two days,¡± Fergus stated pensively.


    ¡°Two days?¡±


    ¡°Aye, I do have a brother to look for,¡± The Tigrun reminded him before he threw in his direction a small grin, ¡°Now then, where to begin? From what I understand our story begins, some time before your B¨®ruma was born. Now, do not you look at me like that! This is important, as our story begins a hundred and twenty years, I believe before thy B¨®ruma was even born. The Northmen, at that time began to appear here in ¨¦riu for the first time, they began to attack and raid Bretwealda and ¨¦riu, for almost half a century. Then, suddenly things changed for the worst as hundreds of long-ships began to arrive first to raid, over the course of many years, then to conquer the lands of the Emerald Isle.


    When they came to settle and for conquest, they were led by the terrible Vikingr Jarl Helgi the Lusty, who had already conquered Jorvik and parts of the isles of Suereyjar. He did this with the assistance of his eldest four sons.¡±


    ¡°How many sons did he have?¡± Brad¨¢n piped up, surprised to hear about this Helgi for the first time, in his life.


    ¡°Thirty-three, only two were of legitimate birth, with thirty-seven daughters it is said. These daughters though, were married off to a great number of Norse warriors, and even some Britians or ¨¦riu-men. Helgi though landed on the shore of the isle where he initially struggled to secure much due to how furiously your people fought. However, he was a brilliant man and soon beat back, the ¨¦riu-men, only to celebrate his victories by taking many ¨¦riu-women, for himself. After this, he celebrated still further by the building of a great wooden shrine, to his war-god ancestor, Thor. On the spot of where he first landed, he founded a city, the first in ¨¦riu, one inspired by Jorvik.


    In 518 S.D., the last of the bearer of the Athulf bloodline was Fianna, daughter of Duibh Ui¡¯Athulf. Said to be the most beautiful woman in all the land, and heiress of the Horn and Athulfian line. She was daughter of one Ard R¨ª, and wife to his co-king Conn Ui¡¯Athulf, both of whom Helgi murdered in personal combat. With the death of the last of the Elk Kings, as they called themselves, Fianna swore revenge, and as the greatest of ¨¦riu¡¯s warriors. As she had been trained, by her father, she was to beat back Helgi several times, before she was finally betrayed and sold out to the Vikings. They were to torture her, for several days, in the hopes of breaking her indomitable spirit, only to fail.


    In the end, Fianna was gutted alive and had her skull split open on a rock on the beach where her tormentors, first landed. And this is how the beach, near the landing site got the name of Fianna¡¯s beach, with the city the Northmen founded, to bear the title of the White City or Fialinn. Though Helgi, and his heirs called it initially Geirrheimr, or Geir¡¯s fortress after Helgi¡¯s immediate successor.¡±


    ¡°Wow, I did not know all that, I have never heard this tale.¡± Brad¨¢n stammered, he shivered at the fate that poor Fianna had endured.


    Fergus gave him a startled look, he then answered bluntly. ¡°You are very ignorant; I can see that it is a sign of the influence of the Warlock-King for he has long wished, to slaughter the most learned of men of ¨¦riu that they might not pass down thy history. Helgi¡¯s descendants though, would rule over the city for almost two centuries. Helgi built a huge fort, at the spot where Fianna was handed over to him, and had her imprisoned in a tower he had constructed over the course, of his reign, as the first Norse-King of Fialinn. The city was also given a name, just as the keep, tower-¡±


    ¡°What were their names?¡± Brad¨¢n interrupted curiously, only to be given an annoyed look for his interruption.


    ¡°Give me some of the sheep¡¯s milk you brought and some of that meat, to quench both my thirst and hunger and I shall tell you.¡± Fergus answered with the lad hurrying to give over the requested food and drink. ¡°Thank you-now back to our tale; this tower and castle were built in the Koraxian style, as Helgi had captured a brilliant architect by the name of Grythorn. Grythorn, built the tower it is said to be eighty feet high, with naught but stone taken from Bretwealda and Breizh. The keep was also built of stone, which has become known as Geirr¡¯s keep, while the port was named because of how Athulf was executed on Helgi¡¯s ship: Athulf¡¯s port.


    Helgi it is said, after a long and cruel career died in the Isles of Suereyjar. Because of his cruel punishments and fondness for his tower, the tower in his ¨¦riu city came to be known as Helgi¡¯s Tower. Now any questions, before I continue on with the next part of our tale, which will focus upon Geirr the Fat?¡±


    ¡°Aye, one question,¡± Brad¨¢n answered thoughtfully, as he considered what he had just learnt only to happen upon one thing he could not properly puzzle out. ¡°Who was the one who betrayed Fianna?¡±


    ¡°The guilty man is known by the name of Sen¨¢n the Betrayer, who was said to have been spurned by Fianna. He died some years later at the hands, of those whom he had ironically traded her to, or so the story goes.¡± Fergus was about to go on when the sound of his name being called, was heard from outside the barn. ¡°That must be all for now, come back to-night to hear the rest of our tale. I will ask for another boon, though it might seem strange; I would like a fur-cloak to keep me warm as I will be traveling through the winter I imagine.¡±


    ¡°But where can I get one? Such a thing is prized much more than a few table-scraps.¡± Brad¨¢n said disappointed by the difficult favour, and by the fact that he would have to wait to hear more of ¨¦riu¡¯s tale.


    ¡°Do not one of the farmers, have an appropriate one?¡±


    ¡°None of them, would part with it though, not unlike the monks in that regard, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Not good, would one of them be willing to sell one?¡±


    Brad¨¢n shook his head, ¡°Of course not, as they all are likely to have but a few, and to need them merely to survive the coming winter. Unless of course, someone died recently and his family kept his cloak-¡± That was when it struck the lad between the eyes.


    There was one person with a spare fur-cloak possibly big enough for a man, of Fergus¡¯ height and whom he was on friendly enough terms, with to ask for such a boon from; ¡°R¨ªonal.¡±