Harsh Words And Confrontations

[Lord Eamonn of Eohmark]

Harsh Words And Confrontations
...acts that threaten to undermine the position he himself bestowed to me...

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/url], Adam strolls down the halls, when he sees Eamonn at the other end. "Greeting Mae Brother...Wot brings yae tae the Castle?"[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/color] Eamonn inquired, canting his head a bit to the side.[/ul]

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/color] He had given Eamonn the skinny of what had occurred. "What are yer concerns my brother?"[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/color] Eamonn said, stiffly, fingers flexing against the helm in his hand.[/ul]

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/color] Adam shrugged. " But he refused stating he belong to Lord Marshall..." Adam stood erect and looked directly at Eamonn; his sea-green eyes narrowing. "I would never, intentionally undermine yu my brother...we have been thru harrowing times...besides my wife's brother, yu are my sword brother, Lord Defender of Skye...and my right hand..." But now was not the time for false words... Adam just looked at the soldier. "But I know there is more to this than Sir Marius... speak Eamonn... let it be known now..." The acts of a Mo'r Triath should never be questioned... but this was Adam and Eamonn... a legacy of words and thoughts, even anger, kept hidden for years...all the way back to Inverness.[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/color] Eamonn whispered, taking a bold step toward Adam. Marius' refusal did not fall on deaf ears; he would certainly deal with Marius and speak with the man in due time. For now, his attention was on Adam. Perhaps there was more to Marius than what appeared, but even that statement did little to defend Adam's actions according to Eamonn. The hand at his side curled into a tight fist. Again, his jaw clenched and Eamonn stared hard at Adam. "And rightly so...As your right hand...I would think you to trust and inform me of the actions you take with the men you entrusted me with. Never...never do you so hastily offer command to a soldier without his commanding officer's consent." Eamonn said, lips thin. "Speak I shall, since you give me leave to. Too many mistakes you make, brother...mistakes I have stomached for too long. The invader, your father, I wished to slay long ago...but you forbade it. Now...three years later..you finally have the conviction to end his life? That mistake to let him live for so long cost lives...nearly my own and YOUR son's. Now you offer to give command to a rider without my knowing and permission?" Eamonn was beyond upset at this point. "You are in no position to make such foolish mistakes, Adam." Eamonn growled out, the frown deeply embedded on his brow.[/ul]

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/color] Adam gritted his teeth. "Right or wrong, I make mistakes...whether I put a man upon a pedestal or have him beheaded. I did not ask for this job...I did not want this power...but mistakes are made...and even yu make decisions that costs men lives...some right, some wrong?" He canted his head seeing Eamonn's fist. Looking at him...he smirked. Appeasement...some people needed appeasement... and the boiling within Eamonn went unsaid for far too long. Adam poked Eamonn's chest. "I am in every right to make foolish mistakes...I am Mo'r Triath...I will soon be king..." he starts to poke Eamonn in the chest. "But right now, I am Adam Aberdeen, son of William Maubrey..." And then he poked so hard, he almost moved the stout soldier.[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/color] Eamonn shot back tensely. "Since we came to these shores Adam...I bled with you...I followed your every waking order without flinching. And you dare speak to me in this manner? I might not know politics, but I know war..I know when someone should die for actions that anyone else might commit would have been hanged by your own hand." Eamonn stood there, muscles locking stiffly. "You might not want this job or this power, but now you have it. My mistakes do not stay my hand when threats to my family and people have been made...or to promote a man so new to this kingdom without trust and knowledge of him!” But then Adam went too far. Forget titles he once said. Eamonn tried to keep his temper sedated, but that poke to the chest was a mistake. As soon as Adam finished spouting his title, that clenched fist came up and swung for Adam's jaw hard and fast.[/ul]

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/color] Sea green eyes narrowed as he watched the blond-haired man...trying to anger him. "Even yer sister hits harder than yu..."[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/color] Adam exclaimed as he was bashed by the elbow to the side of his head and a knee to his stomach. He just rolled over on his side. Looking up, he spoke softly. "Had enough?" Then he grabbed Eamonn’s feet and yanked hard...the weight of the armour adding to the gravitational pull of Eamonn with no footing. Punches were thrown and connected... whether to skin, material, or to armour... rolling on the floor embraced in a fight, the two men growled at the guards not to break it up. They were as two school kids fighting for childish remarks...not the two warriors who had fought side by side...and bled for one another. For one watching, it was truly a schoolyard brawl.[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/color] Eamonn growled out stepping away from Adam and glancing around for his helmet. Damn, it rolled down the stairs.[/ul]

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/color] He'd wait ‘til he turned. "I love yu more than any man...remember that. Not because yu are my wife's brother...but yer heart...and sword is true..." he paused and as Eamonn started down the stairs... "I swear I will be a good king..." He spit blood. "With yer help...!!"[/ul]

LORD EAMONN OF EOHMARK

[/color] Eamonn started down the stairs, but paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Be more than a good king, Adam. Don't ever connect yourself to Maubrey again. If I hear you tack his name to yours again...I will come back and finish what we began here." Eamonn said stiffly, but gave a curt nod as anger still boiled in his veins. In time, it would cool, but right now, Adam's prior words were too fresh. At the bottom of the stairs, he found his helm and picked it up.[/ul]

MO’R TRIATH ADAM ABERDEEN

[/blockquote][/size]

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Trust and esteem are hard won things, and time is no guarantee that both will flourish to the highest caliber


Adam: Adam walked the halls of the Castle, his lip puffed, his jaw aching, now turning a slight bruise... and his throat still with tinges of red where Eamonn had choked him. It had been years in the making and Adam knew his broher-in-law had pent-up anger from decisions he felt Adam made was not the best choice. Still, Eamonn did not know the pangs of politics, nor did he want to know... He left it all up to Adam and Bess... Now Adam was Mo'r Triath, Protector of Scotland Wales, and Ireland, by behest of Robert the Bruce, God rest his soul... and certification of the Papacy in Rome. The weight of hundreds of thousands of lives in the balance. It WAS his army, HIS country, not Eamonn's... but best give the soldier a bit of appeasement than let there bitterness set in... especially when Skye and the Nations were threatened again... It was so easy when he was just a landless knight with no one or nowhere to call his own... But love entered his life... and a simple struggle to make a safe place for his small family turned into a monarchy. He touched his lip and wenced before he opened the door. Into the bedchambers he walked, his ne or to beautiful wife... the beloved mother of his children... and as he walked up behind her as she brushed her long golden trusses, he placed his hands upon her shoulders, leaning down and kissing her neck gently and whispering... "I luv yae lass... wit all mae 'eart..." It would be in the mirror as she looked to see him fully that his jaw was brusied and his lip fat... both reasons he kissed her so tenderly... he saw her expression, and his mind went... "Oh chyt..."

Beathag: The reflection in a mirror is an image that reveals nothing but the truth; it is neither beautiful nor spiteful but only that which one makes of it. Men color with words the same way a war colors the landscape with washes of scarlet anger to soak into the earth. In the time a woman brushed her hair a man could die, a flag be raised. Empires collapsed into sand at the rate of a heartbeat while at the turn of a palm, gesturing in companionship, another was born. That was the nature of how Scotland's island called Skye became a power unto herself. She smiled at first, feeling his mouth against her neck. "Ye are a kind n' gentle laird, wot settles thee intae peace?" He erected his head as her eyes followed the line up, up, to view the image of his truth cast out in to the polished, oval shaped glass. "Adam! Wot happened, who did tha tae ye?" From reflection to life, she turned her head around so that her back was to the mirror now while her face, upturned, took in the sight of his injury. "Say somethin, how did this come tae pass?" No knight would spar so hard with him no matter how hard he asked. Blood had boiled to turn a hand so hard against the Mo'r Triath. Without further say she stood up, fingers hovering over the hurts before she instructed her the hand maid to fetch things that might soothe it (d)

Adam: "Everything... well, sorta...Dun be mad at Eamonn... tis mae fault... I sought him out, we talked and I saw his frustration..." he shrugs... "Ah knew 'e neede tae be set free o'years pent up..." he shrugged again... "Umm, Ah sorta poked his chest with mae finger.... Hard..." He tempted a smile but flinched when the maid handed Bess the potion. ::::::

Beathag: "Aye, like pokin' a steel trap n' expectin it tae sing ye a sea shanty. Eamonn is not mild mannered. He dun express his emotions much save fer..well this. Tis nay a safe thing tae goad him. Pent up or nay. I wish ye both would have civil conversations, often, nay just when the women stand about.He be yer man, ye are his man. Ye are brothers. Our family is everythin, especialy now with wot be gaein on." She then picked up the cloth, making him hold it to his injuries with the herbal portions. The other hand touched the unblighted side of his face, "Everythin aye? Well, in tha' everythin'..we must find way tae use our oddity fer the future nay? I wish us tae be the most open minded of all courts, the closest o' families. Without ye both wearin such marks. We all have our differences, we always will in some things, but does he believe in ye?" (d)

Adam: "Oh hush woman...wot dun is dun... Ah just hope Eamonn is sated...at least until Ah tell 'im Ah am gonna be King..." Adam tried to smile... He had not said yes to Bess' urging to proclaim himself king by right if birth... For all intense purposes, he had kept from it... But situations being reported in Spain, France and in Morocco, plus the privateers venturing ever closer to Skye, plus the Kings of foreign lands did not wish to deal with a mere Duke...or Guardian... This was his way of informing her of his decision... They would be King and Queen by right of birth... He flinches at the touch and offers a muffled "ooww..." his sea-green eyes veering to her... " yes dear..." is all he offered...Open-minded? Eamonn? Dare he say it? Though he loved Eamonn like a brother... and endeared him like a King endears his most trusted knight... Eamonn did not know politics... nor did he even try to learn... "Ah dun knaew luv, if'n he believes in mae... Ah just dun knaew..." That was followed by a shrug... :We shall find out when Ah tell 'im, that we shall be crowned soon..."

Beathag: "Then at the vera least, ye must respect one another as ye dae, n' more sae. We can nay lead a horse tae water n' make him drink of the body politic, but wot Eamonn does nay know at times will be fer the lesser of things. He once told me tha' Ah'd moved tae a different battle field, the halls. I believe tha'. Nay as eloquent as ye but close enough. At least leave the information tae be accessible tae him, all things we tell him. Wot he takes or does nay take is up tae him. Yet all in respect. Ah know...he must have had issue with ye o'er Marius." She gently pushed his hand away to hold the cloth close as his hands were letting it slip, "He's guarded o'er wot is his domain, wot man is nay. Yet..his domain is at yer discretion. Some part o' m'brother believes all crowned heads succumb tae power n' corruption. All war sends the true tae die fer stupid, senseless things.Nay doubt he fears we will become as those on the continent, meanin' tae or nay. These are merely things tae keep in mind husband, as ye speak tae him. It is nay fer ye tae change his mind anymore than it is for him tae always swayyours. While each may know o' different things, he will ne'er see the world in your eyes. Still, he believes in wot ye make with yer hands tae defend it as his own. Ye ought rest tha' now." (d)

Adam: "AH understand lass... but Eamonn should' ave understood tis all mae men... and he should knaew Ah would nay send them senseless into battle..." as he laid back listening to his beloved wife... "Aw lass, Ah pray he listens... and knaews mae fears... that Skye be small less we stand tall... Ah got a book from the east he should read... tis a man, an intelligent man named Sun Tzu... a warrior at heart such as Brother Eamoon bae..." He shook his head, his hand holding the compress to his lip. If a busted lip was all he had to pay to get Eamonn to side with him, he'd pay more... "Lass, lay wit me until Ah sleep..." then he closed his eyes, patting the bed. ::

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Sister, Brother; Future Queen, Marshall

"Words are Mighter than Hands.."
Part I


High Lady, Beathag Aberdeen:

Beathag's English wasn't as potent or direct as her Gaelic. It was full of fog-thick accentuaged syllables, heavy over emphasis of vowels, and sayings that were often a hair's breath away from the common. It was in a place of filfth she learned to put together the language opressors had used to inflict degrading circumstance. Why then, should it be better or worse? A person accumulates more as time presses on: material possesions, wealth of substance, and if one is fortunate a wealth of mind. She spoke in both languages on a daily basis conducting the business of the realm, while the realm itself heard many more tongues discussing things. In the castle language was so that the 'common' tongue was necessary amidst those who spoke neither Scotts-Gaelic, Irish-Gaelic, Scotts, Scandavian languages, or French. Silence was its own communication system with action a close second that spoke louder than anyword. Universal in appeal, it left resonance enough that the Mo'r Triath's lip was swollen with the Marshall's thoughts. There was a time to use the hands over the mouth, but was that the time to do it? What unseen lines were they supposed to cross, to not cross? Acting as prophets to fathom the will of other family members was ludacrist, and blurring the evident things further was also folly to some degree as well? Their tempers were the stuff of near god-fire. What if it should break before assembly, what if it should be a thing that ruined one of them? The thought resonated across her mind with the ferocity of metal striking metal. She passed the men in the courtyard practicing feats of arms. With a smile, she watched them in practice rings. Only the youngest had wooden swords. What would it be like if always a thing were steel solved? Easier though it may seem,nothing good would remain of the world. In due course, her path aligned with that of the Marshall at the end of the courtyard. He was in meeting with men over matters pertaining to his place in the world. Place. Like words, or action, they had to even be careful with that! None of them asked for this. A man whom was listening to another speak turned the conversation's course when he lowered at the waist, causing others near Eamonn to do the same. (d)

Lord Marshall, Eamonn of Eohmark

For the sake of his family's preservation and unflinching loyalty to his Lord and Lady, Eamonn kept much to himself and turned a blind eye. But one day, Adam went too far and provoked what the Lord Marshal tried hard never to do. But like some in his family, his temper was short and when unconditioned, it could be fierce. While in silence Eamonn questioned the judgement of his brother-in-law and sister, but outwardly he never opposed them. But undermining, especially so high in ranking, was never a positive thing...even moreso when one seemed to care little about such offense. Provoked, Eamonn did what he tried so hard not to do for so long: strike family. The end result came in bruises, blood, and blunt words. What minor bruises Eamonn had were hidden under the layers of armour, the very thing that protected from harsher inflictions. On his face, the cut on his lip began to heal; as did the bruise on his cheek, though that darkened a bit in its stages of restoration. In conversation with fellow riders in inquiry about their steeds, the bowing at the waist of one gave indication of who arrived. With his back presently to Beathag, Eamonn's eyes lifted to the sky, praying silently the monarch behind him was not Adam baiting round two. Arms crossed over his armoured chest, Eamonn cast a glance over his shoulder and found some relief at the sight of Beathag. Turning fully, Eamonn bowed his head respectfully, but a stoic fact hid silent thoughts well. Already, Eamonn had in idea why Beathag joined their company; that idea was nursing decisive injuries. "Mo’r Oukselo Beathag, good day." Eamonn greeted, arching a thick and blond eyebrow

High Lady, Beathag Aberdeen

"Good day, Lord Marshall, n' the company." One step of her feet was the same lengths as the guardians the appropriate half step behind her also took. The illusion gave one the thought that she were in one dimension with either of the men to the right, left, and in the new formation to the rear of her. The three men also bowed in the presence of the Marshall, given he was a member of the royal family. "I leave you now, Mo'r Ouksela. Come." Brom departed with two faces that to Eamonn would be familiar. Four years ago, their emaciated, half-sick forms were pulled out of the stone casings in the passages meant for the dead. One of them was Caldean, of which Beathag shared her mother Murieal with, and his father was Amhlaidh, her step father. The other was the only other being besides Beathag here he shared blood with. Bryce, son of Brycean. As was the way of the blood, one was either fair as gold or dark as autumn. Caldean favored the Lady Murieal and his own father's auburn tendency, tall, somewhat lean muscled, and dark eyed. Bryce? He was so blonde and green eyed there was no mistaking. Bryce and Caldean departed, with the younger taking his aunt's hand and bestowing it a loyal kiss. She smiled at this, in the silence spoken in public. One hardly knew the pair even resided in Griffin Castle, so silent were they of any relation shared since the time of their discovery with no wish to be in the foreground. It would be Kendrew who in time would say a man can not live forever behind another, nor was there any way better than to preserve what was lost than to remain beside it. "Iwish tae speak with you, m'lord Marshall, but if ye are in business I may wait.." Prime examples of civility against their natures, each could await the other yet had patience for little else at times but their own families. They were strange and humerous at times, depressing and dangerous in others. Today she was more than what Eamonn was: patient. She'd always been more patient, social, or long worded. Of the three things it was the patience that was lacked that caused injury now upon his face. Inwardly she sighed. Adam nor Eamonn could keep doing this. (d)

Lord Marshall, Eamonn of Eohmark

To those that walked and protected his sister, Eamonn rewarded and greeted them with a curt nod; Eamonn could not ignore the interesting reason--which he probably knew--his sibling would happen upon them by chance. While in the eyes of the public, they were civil and seemingly of one mind, behind the curtain they were no different than the family that dwelt in less than extravagant buildings. The two knew when to conceal personal problems from the eyes of others, a trait that served them well...but sometimes bled into their private lives. Eamonn had more patience these days than in the past, but he would forever be the short, fiery tempered sibling. Of course she wished to speak with him; that came as no surprise to the Marshal as he nodded briefly and glanced to his present company. "Good day, gentleman." He said, plainly, before stepping away and toward his sister. "Let us speak then." He said to Beathag, armsstill folded over his armoured chest. Walking with his sister, Eamonn followed her to a more private location; a place they could speak personally without restrictions. Once sealed in solitude, Eamonn turned to Beathag and regarded the woman seemingly without indication of emotion. "What does my Mo’r Oukselo wish to speak to me about?" Eamonn asked; as if he did not already know. Still, Eamonn wouldn't assume and let Beathag reveal the mystery of her reason.


High Lady, Beathag Aberdeen

Bryce lingered to look at Eamonn; face to face one could be the younger shade of what had been for the older man to recount for himself of bygone glory. He tilted his head before looking an instant more to follow in the feet of his uncles. He knew he had two uncles, each tied in blood to a different man or woman, yet they were related. Face told him that Eamonn looked as much like his dead father as the man ever had in life. It told him that his aunt was truly the Marshall's sister. From observance, they both were male and female mirrors of the same extremes. As the men departed Eamonn's company she moved in to fill the void with a presence the consumed space as much as his. The afternoon sun flirted with the clouds until it overwhelmed the clouds enough to break them apart. Blue sky dominated the spring day as the sun touched the edges of the shaded enclave. "Tae talk with ye on the matters between yerself n' m'husband. I see he was also liberal in his hand" She spoke enough so that he heard, but no one else. "Ah'm concerned with the nature o' how ye both resolved it all." (d)

Lord Marshall, Eamonn of Sevenwaters

The history of his family seemed to become more tangled than the simple man once supposed. The history of his father changed to a multi-facet legacy that Eamonn tried to wrap his head around. The discovery of such altered what Eamonn had once been told. Foundations were shaken and Eamonn simply could not take his sister's discovers anymore. Left in ignorance now, Eamonn was happier...and could focus on what really mattered: the present and future. The altercation between he and Adam did not go unnoticed by Beathag; it was only a matter of time before she came looking for him. A sarcastic thought of her coming to chastise him and praise her husband entered his mind, but Eamonn pushed it away and reserved judgement. Adam was libral with his inflictions, but Eamonn got the upper hand and dealt worse blows; something that should be no surprise to his brother-in-law. Foolish as Adam had been, Eamonn did not discredit his brother-in-law's courage to provoke him; few did that...and lived. Eamonn lifted his chin a bit and nostrils flared a bit with the inhaling of air. Just as he suspected; Adam and he. "It was resolved, though few in words. What have you to speak with me on the matter?" Eamonn asked, canting his head to the side partly

High Lady, Beathag Aberdeen

"If ye must resolve it without words, let it be in the practice yards under the veil o' keepin yer still n' skills on par. If it is more o' tha', than the words ye both share will be bereft o' temper. M'husband is nay without his merit nor fault, as are all people. He does many things e'en I will nay understand or agree with, but when we quarrel Eamonn, it is without the use o' our hands. He provoked ye, which was plain folly on his part, but we are all above brawls in any o' our halls n' rooms. We are a family, first." she put her hands togethe before looking out to the courtyard, "We do nay fight tha' way anymore, when we have tis ended poorly, fer all o' us. Ah wish not to see m'husband n' brother comin' tae blows o' matters o' policy, or period. Unless the King is sae far removed from sense he threatens himself, our children, n' our family." Our was in the collective, both hers and his, "Or unless he has become a tyranical mosnter, keep yer hands in anger off o' him. The Austrian is yer man. Ahdam should have spoken with ye better, and with a system o' trust n' leadership we allow tae be open and governemed by those we trust it is a breech of trust for him nay tae tell ye when he seeks tae dae somethin. It is a system he abides by sae he should abide by it, truly....and yet...he might see merit in a man. And it is his place to bestow such honors. He is the Mo'r Triath, and the King. It is fer him tae knight a man. All men within the Griffin are sworn tae his service. His...often mad seemin ways Eamonn are nay without method a great most o' the time.If the madness had nay method we would nay live here. Disagree with him, challenge him, aye tis yer place. Ye are his brother-by-law, and have more privelege than any. Ye may nay say it outward but ye are a prince of the realm. He and ye must come tae trust one another..better. He would have given the men tae Marius tae assist him in his ventures, in defense o' us. Now, e'en tha' would have needed your supervision. The Austrian is a brave man, but foolhardy and floutin' o' our ways. Ah'd nay watch any more than ye a company o' good men killed at any pursuit o' defense without experience. Ye could have challenged Ahdam, spoken with him, and he would have listened and given better additions tae such things." She had turned her head midway through to look at him. "N' tha' is all of it. " He wasn't a child to be scolded. Adam was not in the complete right, but there were undeniable facts to see on both sides and an essential way of doing things that without it, led to chaos. (d)

Lord Marshall, Eamonn of Eohmark

Hazel eyes regarded his sister in a plain expression. When tempers rose, it was hard to remember saintly actions or the 'logical' solutions. Eamonn did not promote his temper or exhalt his actions; but Eamonn felt little need to apologize for his actions. Adam pushed him--or poked, rather--him too far and Eamonn could not excuse it anymore. Arms still folded across his chest, Eamonn listened to all Beathag had to say, expecting her to mildly chastise his
actions and in Adam's defense. But how much did Adam entail? He was on the brink of tyrantial behaviour, flaunting his title at him, and yet dismissed Eamonn's. Seemingly, Beathag either ignored Adam's offensive words, or did not
hear them. Either way, Eamonn said nothing in response, nor telegraph his thoughts on the matter. Once she was finished, however, Eamonn stood tall and proud. "Beathag, I did confront Adam on the matter, expressed my dislike for hisdecision to undermine me--king or not--without so much as informing or asking my opinion. What king promotes a soldier without the general's consent or insight? A foolish one. He did not listen, Beathag. Your husband poked me one too many times and my temper grew hot. I did challenge his logics, but your husband flaunted and threw his title upon me; speaking that he had right to make foolish mistakes. I must disagree. This did not come from a matter of policy, Beathag, but of respect. Never would I promote or dismiss a soldier to such high standings without speaking two both my Lord and Lady first. The same should be carried out for you and Adam. His momentary spark of tyranical mostrosity and prodding made me put my fist to his jaw. And, after I hit him, he continued to taunt me, even so as to say that his father, Maubrey, could have bested me in a fight. Remember well what that man did to our family; he nearly took my life and nephew. You lecture me on eitiques, but I trust you gave your husband just as long a lecture as you are to me. I tried, Bess, to hold my tongue and temper. But even I have a limit. Adam crossed it, and because of it, I hit him. He wanted more, baited me, so I hit him again. I do not exalt my actions, but I do not apologize for it either. I used words as best I could, Bess, but a fist brought a decisive conclusion to the matter."
Even if that meant a few bruises; it was resolved...for now.

High Lady, Beathag Aberdeen

"Foolish or no, he is still the King, n' it is his will that me may assemble such forces or knight a man, or other things. He may have known things ye did nay, or as ye know things he didn't. Ahdam is passionate and says things at the height of it, and his passion is at once his conviction and part of how his mind sorrows or joys. Nay matter wot he says, tyranny is when he is sendin us down intae the depths of hell, not words. Provokin ye is stupid, we know tha', still words. Let the words gae, e'en if he mentions Maubrey. Ye needn't remind me upon wot the man has done. Half o' the family is dead because of it. But tha' is wot we are better than. A fist may bring a decisive endbut it isn't always the best end. Nay among family Eamonn. Tha' is the flesh o' yer brother n' law, nay a man among the streets. Ye'd sooner kill any man tha' did the same to him.Promise me unless he becomes in action tha' monster, ye will ne'er touch him sae again. Tha' is yer family." She nodded to him, and seeing other business was still to call she made a bid to leave, the men waited for her at the endof the walk but before she left she added, "it is because we are family he enflames ye more, tae either love or despise him, but he is also the King. The villany of words Eamonn is my betterment, nay yours, but it is somethin tae consider. Ye will understand wot he does nay of the men whom serve him, but he will know more of the world ye defend, and the equal ignorance is an injustice tae ye both, of words, especially tae ye. Right now, the wordsare mightier than yer sword or hands." With that, she left (d)