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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Water Bob" data-source="post: 5669354" data-attributes="member: 92305">THE LAST FEW DAYS   It was three days ago. Not hard to remember. The old lady showed up in the village, riding that ancient wagon like it was her throne, wrapped in her ragged furs as if they were a queen's clothing. She brought that big kid, Silaigne, with her, along with that little girl with the bowl on her head. Mallie was her name. And, the others, too: Mallie's 12 year old sister, Mialee. Then, the two boys, 8 year old Regdar and Jozan, who'd seen 5 years. The old hag and her entourage.They parked the wagon right in front of the longhouse, right there in front of everyone! Then Stenna marched--yes it was a march, too--right into the longhouse, grabbed the talking stick, and started yelling for Finn Elder.And he came! And he stood there and listened to the orphanage hag rant and rave!My eyes about popped out of my head.Then, the big one came up to Finn, and they discussed him. And, the next thing anyone knows is that the Duncohr family could double in size. It all depended on how Silaigne did on the Ras Croi.That next day, the race was run. Silaigne led the entire length--every lap.As he ran, I heard all those around me talking about it. All those kids. The unwanted. Those that my kin and clansmen would not take in. The broken ones. By Finn's honor, they were all now Duncohr family.I can tell you Caelis was not happy about it. Not at all. He said little, old Redbirth did, but he could have been called "redface" that day.Then, there came that tapping. It was the other Duncohr kid, Branoc, slamming a punt up against the rock. He smacked that stone until the entire village was looking at him. Everyone was quiet. Then he declared his deasghnath with the young Grath warrior we had caught spying on the village from up atop the ridge a few days ago.None of us knew what to think. We didn't! I got a strange, weasy feeling in my belly. But, then I dismissed it. If the Grath want a fight over this, then I say bring it on. We didn't do anything wrong, and as sure as The Morrigan has black teats, we are not going to run from any fight that the Grath can muster. I'll tell ye that, right now.Still, some openly spoke of talking Branoc out of it. But, there was nothing to do. No turning back. The way Branoc did it, our honor demanded that he fight the Grath. It was a fair fight. And, both warriors knew going in that only one would be coming out. There were no surprises.Yesterday, it happened. We all watched. Both Branoc and the Grath were naked except for loincloth. Both had a spear. The fight was quite short. Only a few seconds. Branoc took position,and the Grath swung at him so hard that Branoc's spear nearly cracked in twain. But, the clansman recovered, rebound, circled his grip, then drove that spear deep into the Grath's gut. Dark ichor flowed from the man's gash. From the color of the blood, we all knew the wound was mortal before the Grathman collapsed.I pulled my axe from my belt. Everyone knew what had to be done. I tossed it into the field. It landed next to the body. Branoc saw it, walked over, picked it up, then bent over the inert Grathman. Gripping the dead man's hair with his free hand, it took Branoc four heavy strokes to break through the cartilage and neck bones. He pulled the head from the body and held it high, gore running down his arm, for all to see.Branoc had become a man--a warrior. We all witnessed it.I can only guess what will happen tomorrow.</blockquote>

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