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The Thirsty Sword

Chapter 7 THE ARROW OF SUMMONS.

Word Count: 1372    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

sea rovings slept on many a less easy couch. But it may be that in those dark hours of solitude his mind was more disturbed than were his hardy limbs. He had com

Norway, who was year by year extending his territories in the west of Scotland, offered a further inducement to Roderic, who believed t

ose uncultured times, and he had failed to take into account the two sons of Earl Hamish, both of whom st

steal into the sleeping chamber of Alpin and so deal with him that he would never again waken to claim his dead father's lands. Roderic had learned from the Lady Adela that her young

iled in his object. Instead of being king in Bute, he w

nt the aged Dovenald, bearing in his arms a young goat, white as the driven snow. When they were upon the topmost knoll they stood a while. Dovenald laid down the bleat

n was breaking into day. Southward then he gazed and watched the giant mountains of Arran that were half shrouded in rosy mists. Very soon the golden light of the rising sun kissed here and there the jagged peaks of Go

ire," he said. "Here

c, give me

ire was well alight. With the arrow's point he stir

me the kid. Give as little pain as may be, for it

d throbbing throat. The kid turned its soft blue eyes upon him and gave a plain

urning arrow and extinguished it in the kid's blood.

of. It is a summons ordained by ancient custom, and well known to all the wise men of Bute. Sir Oscar will despatch it to our good father the abbot of St. Blane's. The abbot will in like manner send it to Ronald Gray of Scoulag. So, in turn, w

! my son. Why

sing that I will have this man Roderic's life

our ancestors, and let not your thirst for vengeance now blind you to the folly of violenc

ff at a brisk pace down the hill. Kenric took up the d

but a sorry king. He is over hasty, and his judgment is ofttimes wrong. He will

omise or told an untruth. Think you that because he is hasty with his dirk he is therefore a thoughtless loon, who knows not when a gentle word can do more service than a blow? When did he ever draw dirk or sword without just cause? You d

iner walked

my lord was slain? He tried in the dead of night to gain entrance to the traitor Roderic that

ethinks 'tis a pity he did not dr

comes a pupil of our holy abbot to speak thus. And yesternight you were dispos

I would willingly lay him dead at my feet. Should Alpin fail to slay him, then

hear such words from one s

is complaints until they ha

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