The youth of my people, I among them, were eager to meet them at the hurling which was a strong and skillful game. But we were no match for Rua and the tough mountain barbarians. We had scored but one goal when the wrath of the Thrace descended on us like a tidal wave.
The skill and speed of my team could not match the brute strength, martial arts and resolute savagery of Rua and his men; many bones were broken and flesh bruised and gashed. We soon lost the game and Rua and his team left behind them many of my teammates lying dead or grieviously injured upon the field.
It was a match that left great bitterness in the hearts of my people against Rua and the sons of Miled. For myself, it left me with a conviction. Never again would I be bested in body. Whether that was in skill of games, combat or raw strength!
| Tuesday, September 30, 1997 |
|
Want more? |