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Cheney, Roland Jon

"Si'Wren of the Patriarchs"

A woman sworn never to
speak for the remainder of her life. As soon as he could find the
proper time to investigate this ridiculous old wives' tale, Conabar
intended to go and find her.
A woman who was sworn never to talk back to any man, and was allegedly
of such incomparable beauty; now there was a rare prize! As for the
rumor of idol-breaking, that was a quandary to think about.
But for some reason, they were having trouble locating her.
In the meantime, the men must be given free rein to make merry, lest
they riot.
"Red wine!" Conabar called out. "I want the best!"
A warrior clapped his chest and went out to go slap a few slaves
around, abusively demanding where the wine vats were, and the women
readily granted him his every wish as they pleaded tearfully for their
lives and the lives of their children.
The wine was quickly located, and Conabar savored his moment of victory
as he thrust skyward the golden goblet of sparkling red wine, the very
scent of which, penetrating and ethereal, made his head giddy with
newfound power and glory.
Sloshing it's contents in a reckless gesture, Conabar waved his sword
in the air and shouted, "Rababull be dead! Long live Conabar House!!"
"WHOO-RAH! WHOO-RAH!" shouted his men, crowding around on all sides as
they routed the wine bearer for his plunder and brandished their
weapons, toasting Conabar in a crash of armor.


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