The Hazel Wand

Conall was known for his storytelling
And had lived an adventurous life
First he shared a most unusual encounter
With a were-cat bard
As a young man on his father's estate
He tended to the cattle
A cruel winter storm had trapped

A yearling and her calf
Conall was to retrieve them but
The treacherous storm forced
The hero to seek shelter
Where he met this were-cat tribe of ten

The largest among these red-grey felines
Had but one eye in the middle of his head
And with the voice of a man
He addressed the warrior,
'We come to sing a dirge for you
Conall crog buidhe
And sing it we must!'

Conall sat amazed as the beasts sang
But when they were done,
The were-cat bard demanded their fee
There was nothing to give but the tiny calf
Which they tore its flesh to shreds
Another song followed and conall
Was forced to give the cow as well
To their snapping teeth and claws

A third dirge the creatures did wail
But this champion was afraid
He had nothing left to pay their price
That needed paid
'If you have nothing to give but yourself
Then we find you acceptable!'

Chased and pursued, conall ran for his life
But in hiding he was found by the creatures
A druid and his acolytes heard a warrior's cry
And came with wands of hazel
To drive the beasts away

You see my king
That adventure was surely more dire
Than the loss of my sons
The tale was considered,
And one of the sons was released