The Pagan Warrior

Prologue

Ireland 795

" Éabha!"

I was never considered too be a well behaved child, or so the nuns would say. " Get down from there!" During my study, the abandoned watch tower that sunk away slowly, had caught my interest, seeming to be more fascinating than dead kings and saints. The tower was well enough to hold my weight, but would surely collapse at one's bigger than mine. From atop the crumbling tower, I could see the outer lands of Ireland. Green spilled throughout the land, not missing a drop. A dull grey of smoke was sleeping through the houses from the town, keeping the crisp air away.

On several occasions I often found myself envied of the kids playing in the mudded roads outside the wall that surrounded the Keep. The hadn't need to worry about their studies or clothes. It was probably imprudent to wish such a life, for I knew it was safer inside the walls, and not out.

I looked down to the other side of the wall, and saw that the nuns were still below me shouting my name, begging me to come down before I hurt myself. I could decide if they were crying out because they truly cared for my safety, or if they feared what my parents would do, should they see me harmed in any way.

More like than not, my parents would never notice, perhaps if I was the first born, or even second they would spare a moment of worry. I was never meant to be, so I'm told. I have two older brothers that live. After them, and before me, there were twins, one girl, the other boy. They did not make it very far after their few short minutes of breath. My mother was heart torn with the passing of her two new children, and vowed to never birth a child again, afraid of the loss it could bring. My living brothers were six and four at the time. Seven years later, I was born. Most parents plan to send their fifth child to either a church or in a marriage.

I don't believe that there has been a single where my mother says I was not wanted, and if it was such a risk and sin, she would have had me terminated while I was still in her belly. These words would never phase me anymore, she had never been afraid to hid her resentment towards me. I was what my dead siblings were not, alive.

Being the youngest, it is not uncommon for them to be sent to the church or to be married. I was no use to my parents, for they had an heir and one more should anything happen, meaning marriage was to be my fate. The older I was getting, the more impatient the Lady of Greenstow would grow. She could not marry me if I had not yet bleed. She had me looked over by several priest in hopes to find an answer as to why it has not come yet. I was well past the marring age, her to her knowledge I was useless.

I had in fact bleed, for several years now. Though I did not fancy the thought of barring children. I knew my luck would run out sooner or later, but I would take advantage of my mothers ignorance for as long as I could.

A lone piece of cobblestone that had aged off the surrounding tower caught my eye. As I grasped it in my hand, I gazed down at the distressed women, and I let go of the stone. It landed on Sister Brónach forehead and I watched with amusement as it bounced off of her and on the grass beneath her. That was the end of my little game, the Sister that had not fallen assault to my stone, went to gather Father Abran.

Father Abran was not considered to be foul, but he knew how to get me to couportate I suppose. If I was acting wrongly, he would - without a doubt - find the appropriate punishment. He was not always devoted to God, like most priests. Father Abran had been a warrior, he was not very well known, and had little reputation. He claimed that those things are not important, though I disagree. A warrior's reputation is of the most importance. Abran was not an attractive man. His face was scarred with sickness and wounds from his time at battle. His left ear was no longer in its place, I would always ask what had happened, but would only ever get a brief answer. An angry pink scare ran across his pudgy, ageing face, and had little bright red hair that would only curl on the one side.