Thread: From the Land of Ice and Snow (Novocaine & Jolie)

When the alarm from Cluain-Tarbh Monastery sounded, Caoimhe prounounced Keeva Cassidy was tending to her mother, Briana Cassidys gravesite. She liked to stop and tend to the grave early in the morning after she had gathered herbs. Picking up her basket, the five-foot four inch girl gathered up her skirts and ran toward the monastery. She didnt know why the Abbot had chosen to ring the bells. But doubted it could mean anything good. From the top of the monastery walls, Aaron Scotus, the Abbot of Cluain-Tarbh watched as the Viking long ships made landing just north of the surrounding village. He crossed himself and stared down as his seventeen-year old illegitimate daughter came running toward the monastery gate. He smiled sadly. Her mother had been taken slave by the Vikings in her youth and had taught her daughter the rudiments of the Scandinavian language. Staring back toward where he knew the savages now disembarked, he would likely need that skill if he hoped to save any part of his charge. Father, one of the senior monks addressed him. Shall we flee. The abbot shrugged. Flee if you want brother, but I cannot leave the monastery. God will provide. Tell the monks and villages to offer no resistance, it will only inflame the brutes. Yes father, the monk replied. At the bottom of the stairs leading up to where the Abbot stood, Caoimhe struggled to get past two monks blocking the passage. They made no attempt to move aside. The fact that the Abbot had an illegitimate daughter was an open secret. But while they forgave the abbot, they had never forgiven Briana Cassidy or her spawn for leading the much-older abbot astray. Caoimhe slipped between the monks, dropping the basket of fresh herbs she had gathered earlier that morning to do so. Father, she cried out. Whats happening? Why is everyone in a panick. He opened his arms and she flew into them. Holding her for a second, he wished he had married his young daughter off last year as he had intended. Now, it was too late. Im going to need you to translate for me. The Vikings have come. Caoimhes light brown eyes widened and fear flickered. We could run. She had heard stories of Viking raids, the horror of them, but no raids had taken place in her lifetime. When her mother was much younger, she had been enslaved by the Vikings and only returned much later in her life, leaving behind three children that she had born while enslaved. Caoimhe was the passionate result of Brianas love match as the Abbots mistress. No. We must trust in God. Youll translate for me and hopefully the savages will spare us if we do not resist. Later, when the king returns the wars, he might smite these godless heathens with his armies. The younger girl nodded, not sure if her fathers plan made any sense. I think God would want us to fun father. The Abbot frowned down as the young girl. Do not dare to presume what God would want child. They are coming, a terrified cry rang out. The Abbot, holding his daughter around the shoulders worked his way downstairs to the front gate. Do not resist. He called out in the same tone he used when preaching Sundays. As they reached the open gate, he saw the first Vikings. Saying a quick prayer, he instructed his daughter to use her crude language skills to tell them they would not resist. Her accent was atrocious. But she managed to say, Peace! Take what want. No hurt. The Abbots arm tightened around the girl. Did you tell them? Aye father, she replied, her face very pale. She felt faint. Surely they could have fought back or tried to run.