Bats in the Belfry
After our evenin' supper I resumed me story about Beannaithe and Laekir attemptin' to secretly enter the high tower on the Hill of Dark Sorcery...
'Early the next mornin' before An Ghrian (the Sun) yet showed his face in the East, Beannaithe and Laekir had a quick bite to eat before goin' out...'
'What about Mac?' Darowva asks of Beannaithe's pony.
'Left in the care of the Fair Folk,' I answers.
'Grand!' she exclaims.
'...Against the advice of Laekir, Beannaithe made a beeline straight up the hill along the paved road. They'd only gone a short way before the lass gasps. Stoppin' in her tracks she points toward the fortress.
"I know what you're thinking, lass," says Laekir to Beannaithe. "Those aren't bats circling the tower," the dwarf grimly tells her. They continue their trek up the hill when before long both get an uneasy feelin' deep in the pit of their bellies.
"I told you we should not go this way, lass," the Dwarf says in a whisper.
She looks at him as if to say, "What shall we do then?"
The Dwarf, readin' her expression, says, "The Fair Folk have an old map. It takes us out of our way a fair bit, but there's a secret entrance where we are far less likely to meet, um, resistance."
Beannaithe listens carefully to the old Dwarf, slowly noddin' her head in understandin'.
Laekir smiles. "I'm glad to know that you're finally listening to reason." Beannaithe smiles back at him.
The two turn away from their eastern trek up the hill, and instead turn south. They descend a great distance down the hill. When they at last reach the bottom they find a cave entrance near a dark lake. They enter.
'I don't like caves!' exclaims Darowva.
'Who does?' says a frightened Diolun.
'I don't mind them so much,' says a grinnin' Daibhidh, back to playin' his role as contrarian.
'Grand,' says his mother Banba, 'then you won't mind goin' to your sleepin' chamber. It's not so different from a cave.'
Her sisters Ériu and Fódla laugh.
'She's got you there, lad,' I tells him with a grin.
'But story time has just started!' the lad objects.
'Off to bed with ye!' I tells me grandkids.
'Good night, Granda,' they says.
'Oíche mhaith,' I says in return
