to be felt for miles inland, the rocky buttress of
cliffs guarding our island seemed to vibrate
with the exertion of fending off the salt of death.
The wind shrieked past our ears with stubborn anger,
restless from many days alone over grey cold water.
Yet one man dared.
And with courage verging on foolishness
he challenges the tempest.
For he had seen what we had not:
On the palette of the horizon, riding the storm
like a coal-black stallion,
raced a fleet of floating wood,
which carried in its bosom the fiercest warriors
the coast had seen since the forefathers had first sailed.
Ice for blood
and steel for minds,
and Tara must be warned.
Note: The Hill of Tara in Ireland is reputed to have been the seat of the High King of Ireland.
