I originally wrote this last year for St. Paddy's Day. Then, it was going to go into an anthology that's apparently not happening. This story is demanding people read it, so, you guys get to read it for FREE! Please let me know what you think in the comments!
The Day the Harps Stopped Playing
by S. Cu'Anam Policar
(Written March 17, 2015)
Copyright S. Cu'Anam Policar 2015-2016
(The Safeguard Prayer is a portion from the Carmina Gadelica)
Copyright S. Cu'Anam Policar 2015-2016
(The Safeguard Prayer is a portion from the Carmina Gadelica)
“Aednat! Do nae stray far from the village!” Me mum was always worryin’ about that. She never understood that I was nae goin’ anywhere but ta tha fields.
I remember turnin’ me head ta look at her, a big smile on me freckle-covered face and hollerin’, “I’m right here, mama! I’m nae runnin’ off, I swear!”
I could nae be more than five or six at that time and life was pretty good fer our village. Me mum was a Druid Priestess fer tha temple of Brigid and our little village had been blessed many times by our generous goddess. I did nae know then how drastically all that would change. How quickly me life would be turned upside down and all that I knew would be stripped away like it was somethin’ filthy…
Like all of tha children that lived in tha temple with tha Priestesses, I had nae idea who me da was. Me mum had been tha chosen Priestess almost a year before me birth fer Tha Great Hunt. Since all tha men were wearin’ tha masks of our horned god, Cernunnos, when she’d been found, there was nae way of knowin’ which had sired me. Lookin’ back, I suppose he knew. Many in our small village claim I look like Seamus, who was once a Druid Priest. I hope he’s nae me da, he’s nae more than a drunkard now and a disgrace ta tha village. Some say it’s because he loved me mum, but her bein’ a Priestess and all, she was nae allowed ta take a husband, or ”tie tha knot” with a Handfasting ceremony on Beltane like tha couples in love did e’ry year. She had dedicated her life at a very young age ta Brigid.
Sometimes? Sometimes I wish she hadn’t. If she had nae been a Priestess of Brigid she would still be here, and I would nae have been left alone and told that me ways were evil and of somethin’ called Satan.
“Failend,” Mor, a servant of tha temple, called ta me mum.
Me mum looked ta tha lowly servant. She nae e’er saw them as less than she was. Ta me mum, e’erythinin’ that held life was special and part of Brigid’s plan.
“What is it, Mor? It’s near time fer tha evenin’ offerin’ so ye must be quick,” me mum said. Tha words sounded harsh ta me ears, but Mor knew me mum was just anxious.
Mor shifted her weight, as if she nae longer wanted ta tell me mum what she had been eager only moments before ta say. “Tha strange man is here. Tha one that came over from tha shire.”
Me mum arched a thin red brow. “Has tha temple’s runner returned from there yet?”
Mor shook her black-curled head slowly. “Nae, M’Lady. I’ve seen nae hair nor hide of tha young lad…”
Me mum nodded and thought fer a few minutes. “All right. We can nae let this ‘Patrick’,” she said tha foreigner’s name with as much venom as a snake, “know that we suspect him of anythin’. Not one of our runners has made it back from tha other temple villages. I believe this man who preaches about his ‘God’ has somethin’ ta do with it.”
“What shall we do, M’Lady?” Mor asked. Tha poor woman was visibly shakin’.
“Take tha children inside. Keep Aednat occupied; she’d be tha first one ta let on that somethin’s off. Show her tha book with tha symbols of our people. It’ll keep her out of tha way until bedtime,” me mum ordered before she went back ta her chores as though nothin’ were wrong.
I turned me freckled face and set me light blue eyes on tha man that had arrived at our village. He was tall; his hair was stark white, almost as white as tha trim tha odd blue robes he wore. Mum had said his name was Patrick, and he looked like someone important. He was nae alone. There were many others with him. They were dressed far less flashy than he was. I assumed they were his servants. I would learn in a bit how very wrong I was.
I was herded ta tha temple, along with tha other children. When we passed me mum, I broke away and hugged her tightly with tears shinin’ in me eyes. Me mum held me just as tightly. I do nae know why I was so upset and afraid. I do nae know why I felt that if I did nae hug me mum right then, I’d nae have tha chance ta ever again.
Me mum and tha other Priestesses always said I have a touch of tha sight. I did nae know what that meant then, but now I do. I could feel things before they happened. It’s nae exactly tha sight, which allows tha person ta see what will happen, but tha Priestesses of Brigid had nae name fer what I could do without even tryin’; so I was told it was tha sight.
Had I truly had that rare and blessed gift, I could have stopped what was about ta happen. But I did nae. Instead, as I held me mum, a feelin’ of pure terror and dread washed over me and somewhere in tha depths of me soul, I knew I would nae see tha woman who gave me life again after this moment.
Mor looked at me frightened form, then ta me mum. Me mum knew far more than she was lettin’ on.
I watched tha gold inlay on tha tilin’ of tha Temple’s floor as I was ushered inside. Tha heavy oak doors were shut and tha thick wooden bar slammed down inta place over tha only known entrance inta tha Temple. This act struck me as odd since me mum and tha other Priestesses were still outside performin’ and near completin’ tha evenin’ offerin’ ta Brigid. I knew better than ta question tha actions of those who maintained tha Temple though.
Mor led us past tha music room and I lifted me head and looked inside. Rows upon rows of harps sat on their stands, waitin’ fer us ta play them. I looked up ta tha servant with pleadin’ eyes. “Please, Mor, may we play tha harps?”
Mor simply shook her head. “Nae, child. We must go study tha symbols. It’s yer mama’s wish.”
Mum… I missed her already. Tha Priestesses should have finished tha offerin’ by now. It was nae a Sabbat, there was nae reason me mum should nae be back in tha Temple by now.
“Mor, where’s mama?” I asked in a voice so small, it may as well have come from a mouse.
“She’ll be along soon, Aednat,” Mor replied, but somethin’ in tha servant’s voice told me what I already felt. I would ne’er see me mum again.
I let Mor herd me, along with tha others, toward tha altar room of tha Temple. I had nae way ta tell time, but if we were here, it must be time fer tha children ta give thanks ta Brigid.
Like tha obedient acolytes we would one day be, we waited as Mor cast our circle and told us which prayer we needed.
“Tonight, we will call upon Brigid, as well as Danu and Ellen. Fer protection.”
Tha five of us there were young, all rangin’ in age from five ta twelve, but even we knew we did nae call upon Danu unless somethin’ dire was happenin’. We did nae protest; we did nae tremble in fear. Instead, we did as bade and let our heavenly voices shatter tha silence in tha Temple:
Valiant Nuada of the white sword,
Who subdued the Firbolg of blood,
For love of the Tribe, for pains of Danu's children,
Hold thy shield over us, protect us all!
Danu beloved! Mother of the Shining Ones,
Shield, oh shield us, Lady of nobleness,
And Brigid the beauteous, shepherdess of the flocks,
Safeguard thou our animals, encircle us together.
And Ellen, beneficent, benign,
Governess of the trackways of power,
Invoke the star of power upon the path,
Guide well thou ourselves, shield our procession.
O Mother! O Maiden! O Crone of Wisdom!
Be the Triad with us day and night,
On the machair plain or on the mountain ridge,
Be the Triad with us and her cloak around us!
We chanted tha prayer three times. E’erythin’ in our spiritual path is done three times. Three bein’ a high magickal number. I always believed it represented Tha Mother, Tha Maiden, and Tha Crone; but perhaps they, too, were just another aspect of it.
Our voices ne’er once waivered as we chanted tha verses from memory. Each child’s eyes closed and their head turned toward tha openin’ in tha roof that let in tha elements and tha gods. When tha third recital was finished, I could feel tha love and protection of tha goddesses of my people wrap around me like a warm quilt and I knew that while me mum may be in danger, I was somehow spared from it.
I had just finished fashionin’ tha new Cross of Brigid and set it upon me goddess’ altar when tha heavy front doors of tha Temple were hit so hard that tha altar room shook. I, along with tha other children, looked ta Mor fer guidance and reassurance, but found only fear and uncertainty.
“Ta tha music room. We must have upset tha goddess! Pick up yer harps, children, and play Brigid’s song!” Mor was panicked, which in turn panicked tha children.
All, save fer me. I felt quite safe wrapped in this invisible cloak me goddesses had covered me in. I picked up me harp, a simple thing of wood and string with Celtic knots burned along its side, and I began ta play.
Fer a little while, tha poundin’ on tha front doors ceased, lettin’ tha agonized screams of tha Priestesses drift in, ta try and overpower me harp. But they, too, soon faded; until only tha sound of me one earthly gift was all that was heard.
I did nae hear tha front doors burst open. Nor did I hear tha screams of tha other children as their lives were cut short. I did nae hear Mor beg me ta set me harp down and run, nor her gurgled cry as her life was taken. I could nae hear anythin’, except tha song me goddess so loved.
Sound rushed back inta me ears with tha last note of tha song. I looked around confused as me eyes fell on each of tha children I had grown up with; each slain and lyin’ in a pool of their own blood. Me voice caught in me throat as I looked ta find Mor without her head.
Then me eyes followed tha strange Braccae behind her up ta tha face of a man I had nae seen before. Me confused gaze met his cold one and I could nae be quiet any longer. “Why?”
His dark eyes softened as he looked at me and he leaned his weight on tha sword that was still coated in tha blood of me friends. “Because they say you’re a heathen.”
“Will I die too?” I could nae help but ask tha ridiculous question.
Tha man thought a moment and he shook his head. “No. They will never know what you really are. I will protect you, but you must leave your ways behind. Our God is a jealous God and he wouldn’t like you praying to others. You’ll learn in time, Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth? Me name’s…” I had started ta protest.
“It matters not what your heathen name is. From now on, you’ll have a proper name,” tha man snapped.
I looked ta tha ceilin’, silently askin’ Brigid why. I still felt tha comfort and protection of my goddesses and thus had nae fear of this man, who was ta be my savior. Me small hand slipped inta his and I let him cover me fiery curls with tha cowl of a cloak before he took me hand and led me outside.
We were stopped in front of tha man called Patrick, who looked at me savior and asked: “Are all the snakes destroyed?”
Snakes? There are nae snakes in Ireland… I could nae stop tha confusin’ thought from puttin’ tha question in me eyes.
Me savior nodded his head. “Every last one of them, my lord.”
“And this child?” Patrick asked with more than a little suspicion in his voice.
Me savior pulled me closer ta him and his eyes begged me nae ta speak. “She was to be the sacrifice to the devil.”
Patrick knelt next ta me and sneered, “I know who you are, Brigid… I see through that weak disguise. Lady of peace, huh? Where are your beloved snakes now?”
I took a step back, blinkin’ and looked ta Patrick even more confused. Does he think I’m tha goddess? Does he think I’m the Brigid? Is he mad?
Me savior pulled me behind his large form and looked ta Patrick.
“She is a child, one who can’t speak. Intimidate her again and I’ll send you back to the church in pieces!”
From where I’d been pulled, I could see tha sparklin’ waters of tha ocean. I loved lookin’ at tha ocean and wondered if I’d e’er get ta see it again. Though, today, tha ocean looked almost purple, and its sparkle seemed ta have left.
Tha sky darkened and lightnin’ streaked across tha sky. After tha first clap of thunder, tha skies opened up as tha gods lamented and I understood. I silently started ta cry; me voice was as lost as when me savior had lied ta Patrick. Me shoulders quivered and me tears fell in a far smaller torrent than tha rain that pelted me.
I knew then why tha ocean was wrong, why tha gods wept; me people were gone, dead. I was tha only one left.
Why, Brigid? Why have ye left me all alone? I screamed in me head, while makin’ nae one sound vocally.
I did nae expect an answer, so when a voice I had nae heard before spoke in me mind, I knew it had ta be her, me goddess, doin’ somethin’ I’d only heard stories of.
Be brave, Aednat. Do as you must; learn what you can. Forget not what happened this day, nor the protection I have granted you. The time will come when I call upon you. When that day comes, our people will nae longer have to hide.
I did nae understand. I was only a child and I felt like tha entire world had been placed on me shoulders.
It has been a long time since then. Ireland still stands, and her people are still here, but tha magick has faded. Nae longer do tha fae play in tha fields. Tha path ta Tir-Na-Nog is long forgotten. I’m sure that I’m tha only one that e’en remembers tha realm of our gods.
I have done as Brigid asked and learned all I can about tha Catholic God, and I have hidden me own studies and practice of tha old ways. Me life has been safe all this time, but change is in tha air.
Arise, child of Brigid, daughter of Danu…
Tha voice, though soft, sears through me mind like fire and I stand. I have nae more than what I’ve made and hidden: an athame made from an iron horseshoe and a wand made of elm. These are me weapons. These and me magick, which has grown and matured over tha years of me captivity. It isn’t much, but so long as me gods are by me side, I will show these men tha errors of their ways and I will win.
I have felt tha outcome and I know it’s time ta return me people ta tha isle, ta their home. And I am ready…
I remember turnin’ me head ta look at her, a big smile on me freckle-covered face and hollerin’, “I’m right here, mama! I’m nae runnin’ off, I swear!”
I could nae be more than five or six at that time and life was pretty good fer our village. Me mum was a Druid Priestess fer tha temple of Brigid and our little village had been blessed many times by our generous goddess. I did nae know then how drastically all that would change. How quickly me life would be turned upside down and all that I knew would be stripped away like it was somethin’ filthy…
Like all of tha children that lived in tha temple with tha Priestesses, I had nae idea who me da was. Me mum had been tha chosen Priestess almost a year before me birth fer Tha Great Hunt. Since all tha men were wearin’ tha masks of our horned god, Cernunnos, when she’d been found, there was nae way of knowin’ which had sired me. Lookin’ back, I suppose he knew. Many in our small village claim I look like Seamus, who was once a Druid Priest. I hope he’s nae me da, he’s nae more than a drunkard now and a disgrace ta tha village. Some say it’s because he loved me mum, but her bein’ a Priestess and all, she was nae allowed ta take a husband, or ”tie tha knot” with a Handfasting ceremony on Beltane like tha couples in love did e’ry year. She had dedicated her life at a very young age ta Brigid.
Sometimes? Sometimes I wish she hadn’t. If she had nae been a Priestess of Brigid she would still be here, and I would nae have been left alone and told that me ways were evil and of somethin’ called Satan.
“Failend,” Mor, a servant of tha temple, called ta me mum.
Me mum looked ta tha lowly servant. She nae e’er saw them as less than she was. Ta me mum, e’erythinin’ that held life was special and part of Brigid’s plan.
“What is it, Mor? It’s near time fer tha evenin’ offerin’ so ye must be quick,” me mum said. Tha words sounded harsh ta me ears, but Mor knew me mum was just anxious.
Mor shifted her weight, as if she nae longer wanted ta tell me mum what she had been eager only moments before ta say. “Tha strange man is here. Tha one that came over from tha shire.”
Me mum arched a thin red brow. “Has tha temple’s runner returned from there yet?”
Mor shook her black-curled head slowly. “Nae, M’Lady. I’ve seen nae hair nor hide of tha young lad…”
Me mum nodded and thought fer a few minutes. “All right. We can nae let this ‘Patrick’,” she said tha foreigner’s name with as much venom as a snake, “know that we suspect him of anythin’. Not one of our runners has made it back from tha other temple villages. I believe this man who preaches about his ‘God’ has somethin’ ta do with it.”
“What shall we do, M’Lady?” Mor asked. Tha poor woman was visibly shakin’.
“Take tha children inside. Keep Aednat occupied; she’d be tha first one ta let on that somethin’s off. Show her tha book with tha symbols of our people. It’ll keep her out of tha way until bedtime,” me mum ordered before she went back ta her chores as though nothin’ were wrong.
I turned me freckled face and set me light blue eyes on tha man that had arrived at our village. He was tall; his hair was stark white, almost as white as tha trim tha odd blue robes he wore. Mum had said his name was Patrick, and he looked like someone important. He was nae alone. There were many others with him. They were dressed far less flashy than he was. I assumed they were his servants. I would learn in a bit how very wrong I was.
I was herded ta tha temple, along with tha other children. When we passed me mum, I broke away and hugged her tightly with tears shinin’ in me eyes. Me mum held me just as tightly. I do nae know why I was so upset and afraid. I do nae know why I felt that if I did nae hug me mum right then, I’d nae have tha chance ta ever again.
Me mum and tha other Priestesses always said I have a touch of tha sight. I did nae know what that meant then, but now I do. I could feel things before they happened. It’s nae exactly tha sight, which allows tha person ta see what will happen, but tha Priestesses of Brigid had nae name fer what I could do without even tryin’; so I was told it was tha sight.
Had I truly had that rare and blessed gift, I could have stopped what was about ta happen. But I did nae. Instead, as I held me mum, a feelin’ of pure terror and dread washed over me and somewhere in tha depths of me soul, I knew I would nae see tha woman who gave me life again after this moment.
Mor looked at me frightened form, then ta me mum. Me mum knew far more than she was lettin’ on.
I watched tha gold inlay on tha tilin’ of tha Temple’s floor as I was ushered inside. Tha heavy oak doors were shut and tha thick wooden bar slammed down inta place over tha only known entrance inta tha Temple. This act struck me as odd since me mum and tha other Priestesses were still outside performin’ and near completin’ tha evenin’ offerin’ ta Brigid. I knew better than ta question tha actions of those who maintained tha Temple though.
Mor led us past tha music room and I lifted me head and looked inside. Rows upon rows of harps sat on their stands, waitin’ fer us ta play them. I looked up ta tha servant with pleadin’ eyes. “Please, Mor, may we play tha harps?”
Mor simply shook her head. “Nae, child. We must go study tha symbols. It’s yer mama’s wish.”
Mum… I missed her already. Tha Priestesses should have finished tha offerin’ by now. It was nae a Sabbat, there was nae reason me mum should nae be back in tha Temple by now.
“Mor, where’s mama?” I asked in a voice so small, it may as well have come from a mouse.
“She’ll be along soon, Aednat,” Mor replied, but somethin’ in tha servant’s voice told me what I already felt. I would ne’er see me mum again.
I let Mor herd me, along with tha others, toward tha altar room of tha Temple. I had nae way ta tell time, but if we were here, it must be time fer tha children ta give thanks ta Brigid.
Like tha obedient acolytes we would one day be, we waited as Mor cast our circle and told us which prayer we needed.
“Tonight, we will call upon Brigid, as well as Danu and Ellen. Fer protection.”
Tha five of us there were young, all rangin’ in age from five ta twelve, but even we knew we did nae call upon Danu unless somethin’ dire was happenin’. We did nae protest; we did nae tremble in fear. Instead, we did as bade and let our heavenly voices shatter tha silence in tha Temple:
Valiant Nuada of the white sword,
Who subdued the Firbolg of blood,
For love of the Tribe, for pains of Danu's children,
Hold thy shield over us, protect us all!
Danu beloved! Mother of the Shining Ones,
Shield, oh shield us, Lady of nobleness,
And Brigid the beauteous, shepherdess of the flocks,
Safeguard thou our animals, encircle us together.
And Ellen, beneficent, benign,
Governess of the trackways of power,
Invoke the star of power upon the path,
Guide well thou ourselves, shield our procession.
O Mother! O Maiden! O Crone of Wisdom!
Be the Triad with us day and night,
On the machair plain or on the mountain ridge,
Be the Triad with us and her cloak around us!
We chanted tha prayer three times. E’erythin’ in our spiritual path is done three times. Three bein’ a high magickal number. I always believed it represented Tha Mother, Tha Maiden, and Tha Crone; but perhaps they, too, were just another aspect of it.
Our voices ne’er once waivered as we chanted tha verses from memory. Each child’s eyes closed and their head turned toward tha openin’ in tha roof that let in tha elements and tha gods. When tha third recital was finished, I could feel tha love and protection of tha goddesses of my people wrap around me like a warm quilt and I knew that while me mum may be in danger, I was somehow spared from it.
I had just finished fashionin’ tha new Cross of Brigid and set it upon me goddess’ altar when tha heavy front doors of tha Temple were hit so hard that tha altar room shook. I, along with tha other children, looked ta Mor fer guidance and reassurance, but found only fear and uncertainty.
“Ta tha music room. We must have upset tha goddess! Pick up yer harps, children, and play Brigid’s song!” Mor was panicked, which in turn panicked tha children.
All, save fer me. I felt quite safe wrapped in this invisible cloak me goddesses had covered me in. I picked up me harp, a simple thing of wood and string with Celtic knots burned along its side, and I began ta play.
Fer a little while, tha poundin’ on tha front doors ceased, lettin’ tha agonized screams of tha Priestesses drift in, ta try and overpower me harp. But they, too, soon faded; until only tha sound of me one earthly gift was all that was heard.
I did nae hear tha front doors burst open. Nor did I hear tha screams of tha other children as their lives were cut short. I did nae hear Mor beg me ta set me harp down and run, nor her gurgled cry as her life was taken. I could nae hear anythin’, except tha song me goddess so loved.
Sound rushed back inta me ears with tha last note of tha song. I looked around confused as me eyes fell on each of tha children I had grown up with; each slain and lyin’ in a pool of their own blood. Me voice caught in me throat as I looked ta find Mor without her head.
Then me eyes followed tha strange Braccae behind her up ta tha face of a man I had nae seen before. Me confused gaze met his cold one and I could nae be quiet any longer. “Why?”
His dark eyes softened as he looked at me and he leaned his weight on tha sword that was still coated in tha blood of me friends. “Because they say you’re a heathen.”
“Will I die too?” I could nae help but ask tha ridiculous question.
Tha man thought a moment and he shook his head. “No. They will never know what you really are. I will protect you, but you must leave your ways behind. Our God is a jealous God and he wouldn’t like you praying to others. You’ll learn in time, Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth? Me name’s…” I had started ta protest.
“It matters not what your heathen name is. From now on, you’ll have a proper name,” tha man snapped.
I looked ta tha ceilin’, silently askin’ Brigid why. I still felt tha comfort and protection of my goddesses and thus had nae fear of this man, who was ta be my savior. Me small hand slipped inta his and I let him cover me fiery curls with tha cowl of a cloak before he took me hand and led me outside.
We were stopped in front of tha man called Patrick, who looked at me savior and asked: “Are all the snakes destroyed?”
Snakes? There are nae snakes in Ireland… I could nae stop tha confusin’ thought from puttin’ tha question in me eyes.
Me savior nodded his head. “Every last one of them, my lord.”
“And this child?” Patrick asked with more than a little suspicion in his voice.
Me savior pulled me closer ta him and his eyes begged me nae ta speak. “She was to be the sacrifice to the devil.”
Patrick knelt next ta me and sneered, “I know who you are, Brigid… I see through that weak disguise. Lady of peace, huh? Where are your beloved snakes now?”
I took a step back, blinkin’ and looked ta Patrick even more confused. Does he think I’m tha goddess? Does he think I’m the Brigid? Is he mad?
Me savior pulled me behind his large form and looked ta Patrick.
“She is a child, one who can’t speak. Intimidate her again and I’ll send you back to the church in pieces!”
From where I’d been pulled, I could see tha sparklin’ waters of tha ocean. I loved lookin’ at tha ocean and wondered if I’d e’er get ta see it again. Though, today, tha ocean looked almost purple, and its sparkle seemed ta have left.
Tha sky darkened and lightnin’ streaked across tha sky. After tha first clap of thunder, tha skies opened up as tha gods lamented and I understood. I silently started ta cry; me voice was as lost as when me savior had lied ta Patrick. Me shoulders quivered and me tears fell in a far smaller torrent than tha rain that pelted me.
I knew then why tha ocean was wrong, why tha gods wept; me people were gone, dead. I was tha only one left.
Why, Brigid? Why have ye left me all alone? I screamed in me head, while makin’ nae one sound vocally.
I did nae expect an answer, so when a voice I had nae heard before spoke in me mind, I knew it had ta be her, me goddess, doin’ somethin’ I’d only heard stories of.
Be brave, Aednat. Do as you must; learn what you can. Forget not what happened this day, nor the protection I have granted you. The time will come when I call upon you. When that day comes, our people will nae longer have to hide.
I did nae understand. I was only a child and I felt like tha entire world had been placed on me shoulders.
It has been a long time since then. Ireland still stands, and her people are still here, but tha magick has faded. Nae longer do tha fae play in tha fields. Tha path ta Tir-Na-Nog is long forgotten. I’m sure that I’m tha only one that e’en remembers tha realm of our gods.
I have done as Brigid asked and learned all I can about tha Catholic God, and I have hidden me own studies and practice of tha old ways. Me life has been safe all this time, but change is in tha air.
Arise, child of Brigid, daughter of Danu…
Tha voice, though soft, sears through me mind like fire and I stand. I have nae more than what I’ve made and hidden: an athame made from an iron horseshoe and a wand made of elm. These are me weapons. These and me magick, which has grown and matured over tha years of me captivity. It isn’t much, but so long as me gods are by me side, I will show these men tha errors of their ways and I will win.
I have felt tha outcome and I know it’s time ta return me people ta tha isle, ta their home. And I am ready…