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