The Blog of a Rambling Irishman

The tale of Laylia and Vasoro

"What do you know of love?" sniped Lasana. "You spend all your time killing and drinking. The only things you love are your sword and drowning yourself in wine!"

"Oh and you are such the expert?" Smiled Caska.

"A rich little princess who knows any man will do exactly what she wants because if they displease her, her rich and powerful father will kill them. Men don't love you little Princess, they love and fear your father!" said Caska playfully.

"So does that mean you will do exactly what I want?" said Lasana, purposely ignoring the words about her father.

"Have you ever heard the story of Laylia and Vasoro?" asked Caska, dodging the question.

"No! But why don't you tell me it?" replied Lasana as she stared straight into Caskas deep dark eyes. Caska stared right back into hers, almost as if he was looking into her soul.

"They were lovers, young lovers". He continued.

"Vasoro was the son of a blacksmith and Laylia was a fishermans daughter."

"They lived the simple life and they loved it so!"

"Together they shared the long harsh winters and the short sweet summers."

"Like the great white swans of the Larian lakes their love was for life!"

Caska stepped closer to Lasana, warily she backed off and retreated until her back touched the cold stone wall. Caska moved closer to her again and continued with the story.

"They knew what true love was!" he professed!

"For Vasoro could make Laylia laugh like no other man could and Laylia could make Vasoro smile like no other lady would!"

"Under the stars at night they dreamed of each other, of future children and of a long and happy life and of growing old together!"

"But like most things in this harsh, cruel and dark world, their happiness would not last and their dreams would remain only dreams."

"Why what happened to them?" asked Lasana, her heart racing as Caska stood right before her, almost touching her.

"It is a sad story. Are you sure you want to hear little Princess?" he said

"Yes!" Lasana whispered softly as if almost afraid. "Yes tell me what happened to them. I want to know."

"Well the King of the land called forth for all young men to join his army and to leave to fight the war in the north."

"Vasoro was a young and honorable man and so was obliged."

"On their last night together Laylia and Vasoro consummated their love for one another and yet in sadness they shared the naivety of youth and with it hope! Kisses were never so passionate and words were never so touching." said Caska deeply.

"On the next morning on the cliffs of Clantarf they kissed for the last time. For thereafter Vasoro marched north and never returned. He was killed by an arrow just 5 weeks later."

"Oh No!" cried Lasana.

"This is a sad story".

"It is my princess but it gets sadder still, for Laylia heartbroken died giving birth to a child some 9 months later."

Lasana at this point was close to tears.

Caska continued, "But the child survived and he would be raised by the blacksmith and the fisherman, both widowers. He grew up into a young man and one day the widowers told him his story. But since when anyone ever asked him of his parents he told them he was an orphan, a bastard child!"

"And though he truly knew the truth of his birth and the story of his parents, in his heart it was his story, his story to tell and his alone."

The tears were falling down Lasana's face; as she stared into Caska's eyes once more and then shied away, ashamed that she was crying, for normally she did not cry in front of men. Crying was a weakness her father had always told her.

"But it is not truly a sad story!" whispered Caska "Do not cry."

"For the young man would someday tell his story to a young Princess and in her tears he would fall in love!"

It was at that point Lasana realised that the young man in the story was in fact Caska but before she could say a word he kissed her and without thinking and in heat and emotion of the moment she reciprocated.

And then all of a sudden the doors flung open and . . .