The Mac Oc

Midir looked down at the tear filled eyes of the youth in front of him.
Ten years old and growing up fast the kid was a joyful addition to the household. His keen mind and gentle nature showing more of his parents than he was yet to realise. The chieftain sat in his hall considering a fidchell board with much intensity when the wailing voice and trundling step had announced the child's arrival. He had hoped the matter would resolve itself in a manner that would not disturb him, but that was not to be the case. The Mac Oc had come straight to him, wet faced and gasping for the extent to which the emotion had overcome him. 
"What is this?" said Midir.

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