Lore, Poem, Sagas, Scenic, Short story

The welcoming.

Against our better judgment we had let you in to stay.

The chiefs and lords, the kings and priests all bought in secret with ill gotten gold and gems, together with promises of more.

The folk knew nothing of what had been begun by powers beyond their hands, save for whispers of outsiders who came to be among themselves and exclude all they could on their own soil.

Oh how the folk wished just to be left alone, but the outsiders took little bits more. Each time a sip was offered, a cup was taken in turn.

Each time a bowl of food was given, the pot was taken by the claim of right, for they were immune to the law, and law upon themselves paid in secret with ill gotten wealth and promise.

It did not need to come to this, the day when violence erupted. When the folk moved as one to slaughter their lords and the invaders as one common enemy.

Of land and livestock they took, and in the lives of the folk they would intervene. Where even the year pig could not be slaughtered by the families who kept it themselves, instead they would be forced to pay for another to kill and butcher under penalty of tax through coin and pig flesh.

It never needed to come to this, that the folk would dance in their blood. That they would wear the skin of the conquered to play and reenact the evils which had been visited upon them.

When a well had been for the outsiders, one they could have away from the folk, many’s the time they could caught trying to poison and foul the wells of the folk, so they might sell water from the well that they had.

It would not have come to this if only the outsiders came as gracious guests rather than underhanded conquerors. But will learn their lesson. It is now the outsiders skulls which hold the wine of festive celebration. It is their bones which bang the drum of war and victory, of celebration, joy and awakening.

The survivors would flee, ensuring they took their own wealth and that of those who were killed. To fresher pastures where folk did not know their names, they would flee and name themselves a peaceful victim.

It would always end up like this, for the nature of those outsiders. And a folk who knew of them not but a few years before, would make it their life and cause to find them out and eradicate this plague in human form.

Those who accept their offers of wealth and favors to betray their folk will be met with the same fate as that parasite, for those who could be so infected could easily betray for another cause. A scourge like no other must be dealt with with speed in ways too horrific to be excused for any other.

But this plague must be taught a lesson it will never learn until even its last is flayed.

And in the fires where the bodies of those outsiders, the plague in human form now burn, the light of freedom shines again on the folk in the land of their forebears. But vigilant must they remain, for only the vigilant retain the lands and freedoms made and fought for, paid in blood. For the careless lose not only land and life, but the soul of the folk from which they came.

2 thoughts on “The welcoming.”

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