Gorta Mor (Part 5)

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Jenny watched as the brothers sped down the road away from her. She thought that at least following these guys would keep her mind off her starving children. So she followed them down the road.

“Wait up!” She called after them. The both stopped dead in their tracks and once she was with them they set off at a steady pace. After a few hours of travelling the trio find a field that is only half ruined. Feeling that they might be able to glean something from this sight they all rush into the field.

“What do you suppose is causing the blight?” Shamus asked.

“Only half of this field is gone, perhaps we will find out.” Darbish answered.

Bent over in the middle of the field they could see a demon talking to the potatoes. He seemed to have lost control of his mental faculties and is damning each potato individually. As he put his curse upon each potato, it would wither away and die. The three travelers all feel the horror at once.

“What are you doing?” Yelled Darbish at the demon.

“What am I doing?” The demon turned away from his work and gave an appraising glance at the travelers. “I’m fixing a problem. Ireland used to be a wonderful and lush land to live in. The animals thrived, the plants blossomed and bloomed plentifully, the sun shone down on the land and in return it smiled back at the sun. This expanse used to be astonishing and remarkable. All my brethren loved to spend time here. Then one day, the despicable and detestable humans came along. They tore at the loam. They ripped at Erin’s heart. They forced more spuds, taters, and tubers into her and made her use her life force to sustain them.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t do any of that.” Shamus said dismissively.

“You!” The demon seemed enraged at this interruption, “You absolutely did do this, you and all of your kind. I can hear her weeping at night. I feel her pain as you plough and pull and till.”

“We are just like any other animal here,” Jenny threw in, “we all deserve the right to live off of the land. Who are you to tell us otherwise?”

“Who am I? You ask,” the demon seemed to take Jenny in for the first time. He sat a moment and pondered if it was even worth his time to convey his name to the filth that had become his enemy. “I am Gorta Mor. I look after Erin and protect her from the likes of you. I will destroy the consumption that you have created in her, and happily take you with it.”

“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that Mor.” Darbish forcefully explained to the demon. This caused Gorta Mor to sneer at the misuse of his name. “We need these crops to survive, we will not die like this. We will endure and carry on, and you won’t be able to stop us.”

-V-

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Gorta Mor (Part 4)

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Jenny had just been walking through the field looking at the devastation that had been wrought upon it; all of her crops were dead or dying. The tears welled up in her eyes as she considered what this meant for her family, without food her children would starve. While considering this she saw what looked to be a viable plant and rushed over to it for further inspection. But when she got close enough she saw that the potato has been exposed to the sunlight and turned green, thus making it poisonous. She looked up to the sky and screamed for guidance, or anything really that will get her through this impending doom. She found herself hunched over with her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

When the McDerbin brothers got closer to the field, Jenny looked up tears in her eyes and gave a solemn nod to the two passers. Darbish does a double take, and Shamus is left with his mouth gaping open. Jenny was the picture of beauty. She has long curly flowing red hair to the small of her back. Her eyes reflect the pale blue of the skies above. And to say she was shapely would have been an understatement; her form was reserved for goddesses. She was what every woman wished they looked like, and the brothers both saw and felt it right away.

“Hello, My name is Darbish, and this is my less distinguished younger brother, Shamus.” Darbish quickly said before his brother could speak.

“Ah yes, as my geriatric brother has already said, my name is Shamus. I would do anything for you, just name it, and it’s yours.” Shamus said as he stepped in front of his brother.

“My name is Jenny,” she replied wiping tears from her eyes. The antics of the brothers seemed to lighten her mood for a moment. “You’ll have to forgive me. You see the farm my family owns is being destroyed by this famine, and I don’t know what to do. I have children to feed, and my husband is long since passed.”

This news elated the brothers. Jenny was single! Sure she had some kids, but weren’t they both just discussing how a family might be nice. And one that’s already started is a quick and easy place to start.

Jenny started to figure out what was going on, it had been so long since she had anyone vying for her affections. When her husband had died she became very introverted in that respect and only took care of her children and her farm. Romantic endeavors were not something even considered.

“I tell you what. My children mean the world to me, and I can see that you both are very nice and kind men. I’ll happily marry the man who can end this blight and assure me that my and our future children will never go hungry.”  She said thoughtfully.

The brothers looked at each other, then at Jenny, and once again back at each other. A smile grew on their faces as the both in unison turned back to Jenny and simultaneously said, “You got it!” They both then rushed off down the road tripping over each other to be slightly in the lead.

-V-

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Gorta Mor (Part 3)

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After days of rambling, in the mid-day heat the brothers came upon another traveler resting on the side of the road. He was dust covered wearing a very wide brimmed hat, a brown leather poncho, and had a piece of long grass hanging out of his mouth. He was clean-shaven, but had a little bit of stubble starting to show through the dirt on his face. He looked to be in his early twenties.

“Oh hi.” Shamus called to the traveler.

“Ello,” the man called back.

“Where are you headed to?” Darbish asked.

“Going north,” he said back and pointed in the direction the brothers were heading, “I hear there is great wealth to be made there. My cousin sent me a letter recently describing how wonderful the abundance of fortune to be made is. I plan to go there and retire with some help from him.”

“Oh wow!” Shamus breathed out excitedly. He had chosen a good direction to go, he was sure of it now.

“Sounds astonishing. Would you like to travel with us?” Darbish asked, traveling is always better with more company, he believed.

“What me?” The man inquired. “Nah, I think I’ll rest here a while and pick up in a day or two, I passed a lough a little ways back, I think I’ll catch some fish and enjoy the good weather while I can.” He smiled a crooked smile with the grass in his mouth nearly falling out.

The brothers nodded and continued on their way up the road. Renewed with vigor of knowing that great wealth could be a reality ahead for them they both find they have a new bounce in their steps.

“Brother, what would you do with plenty of money?” Shamus queried his brother.

“Oh, I don’t know. Find a nice woman, make her my wife, have children and live out my days watching them grow up. What about yourself, Shamus?”

“I would see the world. I would meet as many people as I possibly could. I would learn as much as my head could hold. The possibilities feel limitless.” Shamus felt that he might need to calm himself down a little and not detract from his brother’s dream, “Or you know I could build a family and be really happy with that as well.”

Darbish knew that his brother was only saying the latter to appease his own views on what he felt was the proper life to have. Darbish knew that each person has his or her own future to follow, to each their destiny in their own hands. This didn’t bother him that his brother was a big dreamer. Every society needs to have idealists and dreamers among them to keep the people moving forward.

In the distance a girl sat in a field crying. The brothers both saw her at the same time. Unsure what was happening, they both automatically picked up their pace to see what was going on. As they got closer they could audibly hear her wails.

-V-

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Gorta Mor (Part 2)

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With the amassed townsfolk on their doorstep the brothers, seriously fearing for their lives, grabbed as many provisions as they could fit and escaped out the back of their home into the night. The terrain at night was dark and dangerous, but given the other option it was their only choice. Shamus looked at his brother for comfort, but Darbish seemed unable to offer any. They both knew they had hard times ahead and decided to bed down for the night in a cove of trees.

Shamus collected a meager assortment of wood he could find nearby and Darbish worked at coaxing the kindling into a flame. Shamus sat by his brother and stared up into the night sky considering what they would be doing next.

“What do you suppose is next for us, Darbish?”

“We get the fire started so we can stay warm, and then we get some sleep.” Darbish replied in a matter of fact tone.

“No, well I know that, but I mean where are we going from here?”

“Oh…” Darbish was surprised, the question hadn’t really occurred to him. For him life was the fields, and taking care of his mother and little brother. What to do next? He pondered it for some time and then spoke, “Well Shamus, I suppose we will head out into the world and make a name for ourselves, there’s really not much back home for us anymore.”

“I don’t think we can call it home anymore, Darbish.”

“Good point Shamus,” Darbish said as he finally got some life into the small fire, “let’s get some sleep and pick a direction in the morning.”

Shamus put his head back in his hands and looked into the starry night. He envisioned many different paths their lives could take, perhaps they would find a new farm and continue their old life. They might get into trade and deal in fine trinkets and assortments from around the world. They could have even learned how to fight and exterminate dragons and demons to save people all over the land. He found it hard to sleep with all these thoughts going through his mind, but eventually drifted off and found his dreams to be much more vivid and amazing than just his thoughts alone.

The brothers awoke in their copse to the sun shining and bird song in the near distance. Things were looking up. They collected all their supplies and worked their way out to the main road.

“Well which way would you like to go Shamus?”

“Hrm… I don’t know, both ways look equally alluring.” Shamus replied.

“Alluring?” Darbish questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“It was a word Ma taught me.” Shamus countered with defense in his voice.

“Um, okay… still, which direction?”

Shamus closed his eyes and felt the breeze on his face; he adjusted his body until he was inline with the air stream. Taking a few steps forward with the wind at his back, he opened his eyes and pointed directly ahead, “This way.”

“Works for me.” Darbish shrugged and the departed down the path.

-V-

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Gorta Mor (Part 1)

Gather round young children as I tell you a tale of the two McDerbin brothers.  In the Early nineteenth century Ireland was a lush and beautiful place to be. The people were happy and they sang songs of joy to how great their lives were. Now many have heard about the Irish ability to imbibe copious amounts of spirits, but it was not known that at this time nery a drop of intoxicating drink would pass the lips of any Irishman. There is even a saying from the time, “By avoiding liquors, lagers, and ales, one can be sure to be happy, wealthy, and wells.” Let us look now on the hamlet of Claouth where the brothers live happily with their mother.

“Shamus! Darbish! Come inside. I need help.” Erin called to her boys. She was old and frail, life had been mostly kind to her, but the years were easily wearing on her by this point. The two young men entered the house, they were breathing heavy from tilling the farmland behind their cottage. Shamus, who always seems to have a perky glint in his eyes, looked around the room and saw his mother standing over a large pot on the stove. Darbish, the elder by a year, pushed Shamus aside as he entered.

“What is it yah need ma?” Darbish asked with a slight annoyance in his voice. “We still have half a field to till before sundown if we are going to get a good crop this year.”

“Watch how you talk to be boy!” Erin exclaimed as she painfully turned to him. “I need help moving the pot off the stove to cool your supper.”

“Absolutely ma,” Shamus said as he ran over to the stove and pulled the pot off. Erin smiled at her youngest son, and then shot a pensive look at the other.

“You could learn some manners from your younger brother, Darbish.”

“Oh aye, I could.” Darbish said in a playful way, “or I could get the fields done so that we will have more supper to eat in the future.”

“One day we will figure out how to have many riches and we won’t have to worry about fields anymore.” Shamus said dreamily.

“Corse, an I hope that day comes soon. I can get supper from here,” Erin chided, “Go and get the fields done with yah.”

For the McDerbins, life was going well. But, as they say, not all things can stay great forever. Then one day, the crops began to die off all across the land. The people had no idea what was happening, fear and doubt was working its way into the collective psyche. Erin, whom was already quite frail, came down with an affliction. The doctors that came to see her were bewildered by her condition, as it wasn’t just the normal passing of time on her and it wasn’t anything else they had seen before.

The townsfolk took this as a serious omen and convince themselves that the failing crops and Erin’s malady are connected. Rumors began spreading all around the village and with each retelling become more and more blown out of proportion. Within days most of the residents believe that Erin is a witch and she is causing the crops to fail as she is passing. In the middle of the night the villagers formed a mob and with pitchforks and torches assembled in front of their home to satiate their aggressions and fears.

-V-

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