A son he left me, in the ways of men,– A Matron’s Lament, 423 E.R.
should a mother bemoan he is as him,
tis it better a woman hath a grandchild,
to care for girls, charmed by his wiles,
wouldst it be wiser that I’d not bore his son,
wait for a daughter that might so choose none,
oh he left, tis his loss, he’ll die cold and alone,
an old woman warm, and surrounded at home.
The Bees and the Trees
Rhaeus 4th, 1 S.R.
“Up and at ‘em, soldier,” Katrisha commanded.
Liora woke, and turned a spiteful glare to the woman beside her hammock. A nudge to the shoulder accomplished no more.
“Come on, we still have a dozen women, and near so many children in need of training. I made that… pirate, promise she would give them opportunity. The chance to be more than fate has brought them to. I intend to not be a hypocrite in this.”
“Then don’t,” Liora said, and stared back at the ceiling, clutching her arm.Continue reading “Chapter VI:16”