Saturday, 29 January 2011
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Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
Friday, 21 January 2011
Thursday, 20 January 2011
Tuesday, 18 January 2011
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Thursday, 13 January 2011
Saturday, 8 January 2011
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
Monday, 3 January 2011
Sunday, 2 January 2011
“It is a lord I am, Tallidwr. If I stand and do fight, it will be that perhaps I am remembered as a brave, strong lord. Yet it will cost my life. History will exalt the dead when it chooses, but it does not praise those who preserve their own lives. Must I die for courage? Is there not a better manner to end such a life?”
Tal looked vaguely out the eastern windows. “I am no lord, nor does history have its claim upon me as a wise, brave, or noble man. What men say of men is beyond us - for our bones will long have been the gnawing toys of the wolf. Yet if you are cut down, or flee - if Carnwntir stands to praise you or mock you, does that not mean there will be a Carnwntir to mock and praise? There I would look. To such an end would I choose my course.
Cawdor smiled. “You are right. What our people say lies not important as that they say. Then we will flee - cowards, who live.” There was silence and Tal bowed, preparing to make his leave. Cawdor stopped him. “I want you as my chief advisor, and commander of the army,” he said.
“My place is with my people, sir,” Tal said quietly. “I am only a broken reed, my lord. No, not broken, I was wrong when thus I spoke. Not broken, my lord, but bruised.”
“You sound like Bard, my friend,” said he.
“Perhaps,” Tal replied. “And if so, I am complete. You should know, my lord, that however it is a good and great a man you are, it cannot be you will ever be half the man Bard was. We all know it. It is my hope you also shall understand.” It was the most Tallidwr had ever said to him.
Cawdor nodded slowly. “I know it, Tallidwr.” He looked down, fingering his large ring of office. Then he looked very carefully into Tallidwr’s eyes. “A bruised reed, Tal? Bruised, not broken. You know of sorrow, of death. I confess I know much less; perhaps little. Tallidwr son of Dyllanwr...be my advisor.”
Tal inhaled slowly. He blinked twice as he stiffened. “I will think on it,” he said.