DO NOT READ! Until you have read the first to parts on the previous journal pages!
"No," she replied taking the arrow. "For you made it so." Locked onto his eyes with a gaze of steel, she stabbed the arrow through King Mark's vile, black heart. He fell to the ground, dead before he landed. Morna turned her back on the corpse and never thought of the King again. She went to her beloved, cradling his head. She stripped the hateful deerskin cloak from his shoulders and summoned her horse. With Angus draped across the back of her saddle, she rode back to the Hall. "Woe is the day!" she exclaimed, riding into the courtyard. "Behold the best of our warriors is fallen." "And what of the King?" called one of the courtiers. "Lost." That was the only reply Morna ever made to any question about King Mark. Search though they might, no trace was ever found of Mark's body (it was assumed that the beasts of the forest had taken him and that Morna's cryptic reply was the only way she could express her horror at that loss). "Let a tomb be built by the river for Angus," she directed. It was completed quickly. And every day for the rest of her life, Morna walked, veiled in white, along the river to the door of the tomb. Finally, one day many years later, she did not return from her daily pilgrimage. Although there are those who say they still see a woman veiled in white who walks the bank of the river, weeping for her long lost love. So ends the sad tale of Morna McCormac.
Of course this Morna McCormac mourned and then moved on.
Page 1, 2
ShyPopTart · Sat Mar 31, 2007 @ 10:40am · 0 Comments |