The Third String.
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Tales from a Dagda Bard
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The Third String.
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Tales from a Dagda Bard
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3/10/2017 0 Comments The Wooden HeartThe Rath was filled with its usual comforting peace, the only sound in the space given by the hearths fire, where the wood was consumed with faint crackling noises. The chieftain sat in his big seat, eyes lost to the dance and flicker of the flames, basking in their heat, grateful again for the warmth the wood gave. He sat a long while, at his ease, turning something over and over in his big hands. It was a round of wood, looking to be cut from some tree, dried and smooth. His rough fingers traced the lines of the rings upon the trees heartwood. Solid and strong, the drying of the wood had not split nor cracked it.
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"Show me your hands lad." Perplexed I did as requested and held my hands up. I had come out of the house to meet him at his arrival and as ever his ways are often a mystery to me, that is until he explains them. "Now turn them over, palms up." His eyes gave the smile a mischief twist I was well familiar with these days. 28/7/2017 0 Comments Passage onto DeathWho are you to stand so in state? Who are you to gaze upon the departed? Who are you to mourn their leaving? It had been the spirit watch for a day and nights passing and they did not wake. No stirring of form of passage of breath did the body make. No hunger or thirst came upon it to cause a motion. No movement of any kind. They did not wake. The Champion could not hold his place for his anger. Fine boots, normally kept so clean were scuffed and muddy from his treading back and forth. Dagda sat on the ground before his home, a huge butter churn in between his thick thighs, big hands wrapped around the broad strapped handle of a massive length of wood as he raised and lowered it, driving its shaft into the pale time and again with slow measured strokes. "You'll wear a hole in those fancy shoes of yours" Lugh spun on him, levelling that spear of his to point at the other chieftain. The doorbell rang. It's a noise I don't often hear in the house. If I'm expecting company then I would know by previous agreement and usually be waiting for the car to pull up outside or at the very least, my faithful hound to set a woof upon anyone approaching our territory. Usually an unforeseen bell ring would indicate a door to door sales person or some missionary out doing their service. I confess that I don't answer the door to either and they invariably leave after the first attempt. The doorbell rang. |
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