Kay and Caohmins spat
Still, it seems we ought to have been grateful: in some parts of this
the price exacted for one man's love for the supposedly virginal daughter
of the wrong well-placed family is genocide, the cold-blooded murder of an
entire clan." He spits on the ground. "Did it make your fathers proud,
Kay Wanderwit? Did they collect trophies from the children they killed?
Did they..." He stops, shaking with rage, then closes his eyes and
breathes before quietly continuing. "No, I will not let you have this
power over me." He turns to resume his packing in silence.
Kay returns the glare, " It was hardly love that Phralįle showed my
grandmother that night. He and his gang were rightfully exterminated when
they tried to cover up his deed.
Caoimhin turns. "And in the tales I have heard, Phralale had no intention
of `covering up' anything -- he had returned to join his love, or to bring
her with him, as she desired. Apparently the girl's family found this
unacceptable. I've not heard that the girl died, but I find it just as
likely that the family themselves cleansed their own blood of the Gypsy
"I was told that Phralale was covered in her blood when he left. The
night-watch spotted him and chased the scoundrel outside the village where
the rest of his people were waiting. " Kay quickly inspects her horse and
turns back, "Don't get me wrong, I don't hate your kind, not at all. I just
knew I wouldn't feel comfortable surrounded by them..With those eyes, I'm
sure they could see right through me. Kinda creepy."
As for trophies.", Kay continues removeing a
battle-worn sword from her scabbard and holds it up, "This was used to hack
the head from that devil. I was told it belonged to him and was knocked from
his hands when he tried to sneak off from battle.". The blade is returned
and Kay returns to attending her horse.
"Then well will I watch that sword, Kay Wanderwit, and the hand that wields
it. Blades that once spill Coisichean blood oft develop a taste for it."
He pats his horse on the neck, then walks over towards the crowd growing
around the book. As he gets close enough to see it, he gives a low
whistle. "A pretty one that is. I wonder what secrets its pages hold."