Miss.SunFlower
New member
This is written by my 16 (now 17 but 16 when he wrote it) year old cousin. It's quite phenomenal for his age and has me incredibly proud of his skill. It's lengthy but so well written and full of suspense and things that I hope you'll take a reading.
The Unsung Ballad - Evan
Prologue
I near a rustic inn,
It’s name: The One-Eyed Dog.
My brown robe swirls about me,
As I stride through the fog.
A cross swings from my neck,
As I push open the door.
Ale in hand, I call,
To mind my tale of yore….
Part First: Rain
Draw near my dear friends,
Come and list to my lay,
Of Ailean, Blair and Ròidh,
On that ill-fated day!
‘Twas heart of midwinter,
And the chill in the air
Cut fur as if silk,
But was naught to Blair!
She stepped from her house,
A lass of Clan MacLean,
But, though cold, she burned at
Thought of her love: Ailean!
But she was not alone.
Concealed in the firs,
A man, wrapped in black ploy,
‘Twas the son of MacLean,
Dark cloaked, but strong-armed: Ròidh!
Evil was on his mind,
And dark was his intent.
Blair would be his wed wife,
Tho’ it cause a lament!
He trailed from the woods,
A dark wraith of night,
On the road to Ailean,
A warrior of right!
And he crept from the woods.
His blade hissed from its sheath,
Blair spun round with a cry,
In moments, he had her,
Said, “Silence, or you die!”
“Oh, Ròidh, what do you do?”
She murmured with such woe!
“Marry me,” he snarled,
“Or your blood will stain snow!”
Her eyes closed for a breath,
“But I cannot,” she said.
“I love Ailean, none else,
None but him shall I wed!”
The blade slit ‘cross her throat.
Blair fell into the snow,
Raven hair crossed the white.
Her brown eyes found Ròidh’s green.
He fell back at the sight!
Her eyes did not condemn,
Did not accuse, only shed,
A tear, for good Ailean,
And she then raised her head!
“Ròidh,” she whispered, “Draw near.
For this, you I forgive,
And pray Ailean does like.
May he yet let you live!”
Her last whispered word: “Christ!”
And an icy rain began to fall….
Part Second: Night
Ròidh turned, fled through the dark,
Was half-mad with despair,
Slunk off to the mountains,
To be hid in ruins there!
Now, that good man, Ailean,
Had much reason to fear,
Blair had not kept the tryst,
Ailean took up his spear!
Belting on his stout sword,
Geiraasgrim was its name,
He ran into the rain,
Saw MacLean bow, in shame!
And Ailean knew Ròidh’s deed.
Into the woods, Ailean,
Swift as mist—a grey fox,
Followed blood from Ròidh’s sword,
Over hills, atop rocks!
But icy rain diffused
Crimson blood off the blade,
The scarlet trail halted,
Ailean now had no aid!
Frantic, he cast ‘bout him,
In the slush and the rain.
Traces he could not find,
His searches were in vain!
His eye lit on the ruins.
The ruins were high, grey, old,
Crowning peak Bhasteir Tooth,
Built by men long ago,
In the Celt’s far-off youth!
Ailean looked upon it,
Ròidh could be nowhere but,
In that great stone heap,
Out upon the stone’s jut!
Watching, he ascended,
His eye on the great heights.
Rain slid from Geiraasgrim,
Keen sword, drawn for Blair’s rights!
And a flame’s light winked forth.
Yellow light from Ròidh’s fire,
Started against the chill,
Now reached the man Ailean,
As he crested the hill!
He slipped up to a wall,
Peered around with great heed,
Ròidh slumped down by the fire,
His sword stained by dark deed!
Now Ailean gripped his blade,
And prepared for the rush,
That would carry him o’er
The wall; through the brush!
Ailean gripped tight the wall.
Flames leapt higher, and night fell….
Part Third: Blood
‘Pon the wall, sprang Ailean,
Sword glinting in moonlight.
But Ròidh saw its moon-gleam
Sword drawn, he rose to fight!
Great and hard was their clash,
Spinning swords, wheels of flame,
The ruins rang to the song,
Of swords, their deadly game!
Ailean gained the upper hand,
Ròidh struck, and fortune turns.
Ailean was down in the mud,
Ròidh smote, like hags at churns!
Rain fell, flew from Ròidh’s blade.
To one side Ailean rolls,
Leaping up, still slashing,
Their swords lock a moment,
Turn their blades to flashing!
They turn from the other,
It’s the fire between them,
They feint ‘round to both sides,
The ground’s a muddy mayhem!
They meet with great fury,
But this time, ‘tis different,
Ròidh’s two fingers fly off,
By choice or accident!
Blood pours from his right hand.
Now Ròidh’s down in the slush,
Geiraasgrim’s at his throat,
“Go,” Ròidh says, “Thrust it in,
But I beg you, don’t gloat!”
Geiraasgrim quivers once,
But it slowly retreats.
Says Ailean, “You’ll be tried,
When the High Council meets!”
He turns and wipes his blade,
Turns from Ròidh, the traitor,
But now Ròidh scrambles up,
Shouts, “I am the greater!”
Ailean turns, but too late.
The thrown knife was direct,
It sought out Ailean’s heart,
And in the mud he drops,
Felled by Ròidh’s evil dart!
He strains, and gazes back,
Sees black Ròidh, breathes a prayer
“I absolve Ròidh MacLean,
You have sent me to Blair!”
Ròidh on rocks beats his head,
“Absolved! Forgi’en! How? Why?”
He screams to the ravens,
But receives no reply!
He falls upon his knees.
The sun shines over Bhasteir Tooth….
Epilogue
My tale is full told,
But the night is well run.
May the Lord bless you all,
Also Jesus, his Son.
Three things should you learn of,
Do these things take to heart:
A fruit stolen tastes not,
As one grown from its start.
And whose task is vengeance?
‘Tis the duty of God,
He who takes life unjust,
Liveth under his rod.
God does not work always,
As we may wish he would,
You may question it, but,
From this he has brought good.
The Unsung Ballad done,
I remove my one glove,
As I do at the end.
Of this tale of love.
What say you? My fingers?
Aye, there’s two are missing.
I lost them to Ailean.
Now this is my goodnight!
From this monk, Ròidh MacLean!
The Unsung Ballad - Evan
Prologue
I near a rustic inn,
It’s name: The One-Eyed Dog.
My brown robe swirls about me,
As I stride through the fog.
A cross swings from my neck,
As I push open the door.
Ale in hand, I call,
To mind my tale of yore….
Part First: Rain
Draw near my dear friends,
Come and list to my lay,
Of Ailean, Blair and Ròidh,
On that ill-fated day!
‘Twas heart of midwinter,
And the chill in the air
Cut fur as if silk,
But was naught to Blair!
She stepped from her house,
A lass of Clan MacLean,
But, though cold, she burned at
Thought of her love: Ailean!
But she was not alone.
Concealed in the firs,
A man, wrapped in black ploy,
‘Twas the son of MacLean,
Dark cloaked, but strong-armed: Ròidh!
Evil was on his mind,
And dark was his intent.
Blair would be his wed wife,
Tho’ it cause a lament!
He trailed from the woods,
A dark wraith of night,
On the road to Ailean,
A warrior of right!
And he crept from the woods.
His blade hissed from its sheath,
Blair spun round with a cry,
In moments, he had her,
Said, “Silence, or you die!”
“Oh, Ròidh, what do you do?”
She murmured with such woe!
“Marry me,” he snarled,
“Or your blood will stain snow!”
Her eyes closed for a breath,
“But I cannot,” she said.
“I love Ailean, none else,
None but him shall I wed!”
The blade slit ‘cross her throat.
Blair fell into the snow,
Raven hair crossed the white.
Her brown eyes found Ròidh’s green.
He fell back at the sight!
Her eyes did not condemn,
Did not accuse, only shed,
A tear, for good Ailean,
And she then raised her head!
“Ròidh,” she whispered, “Draw near.
For this, you I forgive,
And pray Ailean does like.
May he yet let you live!”
Her last whispered word: “Christ!”
And an icy rain began to fall….
Part Second: Night
Ròidh turned, fled through the dark,
Was half-mad with despair,
Slunk off to the mountains,
To be hid in ruins there!
Now, that good man, Ailean,
Had much reason to fear,
Blair had not kept the tryst,
Ailean took up his spear!
Belting on his stout sword,
Geiraasgrim was its name,
He ran into the rain,
Saw MacLean bow, in shame!
And Ailean knew Ròidh’s deed.
Into the woods, Ailean,
Swift as mist—a grey fox,
Followed blood from Ròidh’s sword,
Over hills, atop rocks!
But icy rain diffused
Crimson blood off the blade,
The scarlet trail halted,
Ailean now had no aid!
Frantic, he cast ‘bout him,
In the slush and the rain.
Traces he could not find,
His searches were in vain!
His eye lit on the ruins.
The ruins were high, grey, old,
Crowning peak Bhasteir Tooth,
Built by men long ago,
In the Celt’s far-off youth!
Ailean looked upon it,
Ròidh could be nowhere but,
In that great stone heap,
Out upon the stone’s jut!
Watching, he ascended,
His eye on the great heights.
Rain slid from Geiraasgrim,
Keen sword, drawn for Blair’s rights!
And a flame’s light winked forth.
Yellow light from Ròidh’s fire,
Started against the chill,
Now reached the man Ailean,
As he crested the hill!
He slipped up to a wall,
Peered around with great heed,
Ròidh slumped down by the fire,
His sword stained by dark deed!
Now Ailean gripped his blade,
And prepared for the rush,
That would carry him o’er
The wall; through the brush!
Ailean gripped tight the wall.
Flames leapt higher, and night fell….
Part Third: Blood
‘Pon the wall, sprang Ailean,
Sword glinting in moonlight.
But Ròidh saw its moon-gleam
Sword drawn, he rose to fight!
Great and hard was their clash,
Spinning swords, wheels of flame,
The ruins rang to the song,
Of swords, their deadly game!
Ailean gained the upper hand,
Ròidh struck, and fortune turns.
Ailean was down in the mud,
Ròidh smote, like hags at churns!
Rain fell, flew from Ròidh’s blade.
To one side Ailean rolls,
Leaping up, still slashing,
Their swords lock a moment,
Turn their blades to flashing!
They turn from the other,
It’s the fire between them,
They feint ‘round to both sides,
The ground’s a muddy mayhem!
They meet with great fury,
But this time, ‘tis different,
Ròidh’s two fingers fly off,
By choice or accident!
Blood pours from his right hand.
Now Ròidh’s down in the slush,
Geiraasgrim’s at his throat,
“Go,” Ròidh says, “Thrust it in,
But I beg you, don’t gloat!”
Geiraasgrim quivers once,
But it slowly retreats.
Says Ailean, “You’ll be tried,
When the High Council meets!”
He turns and wipes his blade,
Turns from Ròidh, the traitor,
But now Ròidh scrambles up,
Shouts, “I am the greater!”
Ailean turns, but too late.
The thrown knife was direct,
It sought out Ailean’s heart,
And in the mud he drops,
Felled by Ròidh’s evil dart!
He strains, and gazes back,
Sees black Ròidh, breathes a prayer
“I absolve Ròidh MacLean,
You have sent me to Blair!”
Ròidh on rocks beats his head,
“Absolved! Forgi’en! How? Why?”
He screams to the ravens,
But receives no reply!
He falls upon his knees.
The sun shines over Bhasteir Tooth….
Epilogue
My tale is full told,
But the night is well run.
May the Lord bless you all,
Also Jesus, his Son.
Three things should you learn of,
Do these things take to heart:
A fruit stolen tastes not,
As one grown from its start.
And whose task is vengeance?
‘Tis the duty of God,
He who takes life unjust,
Liveth under his rod.
God does not work always,
As we may wish he would,
You may question it, but,
From this he has brought good.
The Unsung Ballad done,
I remove my one glove,
As I do at the end.
Of this tale of love.
What say you? My fingers?
Aye, there’s two are missing.
I lost them to Ailean.
Now this is my goodnight!
From this monk, Ròidh MacLean!
