Update: All Shook Up

Happy Medieval Monday!

Good news! This past weekend, I finally sent All Shook Up off to my wonderful editor! Oh, but it's an emotional story! 

How about a teeny, tiny, peek?
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Scottish Highlands, 1336

“Gall Ghàidhell!”

Foreigner Gael. Rónán winced as Aonghas shoved Lachlann hard. Why did they call him that? He had a Gaelic name and he’d been born here in the highlands, just like the rest of them. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

But the push that would have sent Rónán flying across the grass hardly moved Lachlann. He just stood there, still and silent as a stone. His blond hair hung around his face, his gray eyes wide and cold. He was as tall as Aonghas, and their shoulders looked about the same. But Aonghas was thicker and meaner and had his friends with him.

Rónán drew closer to the little circle on the hill.

“Gall Ghàidhell!” Aonghas pushed Lachlann again. “Are you a mute, now?” He snickered. “No one wants to hear you talk anyway, dumb ox! You don’t know how!”

“Shut up, Aonghas!” Rónán knew he would regret it, but he couldn’t help himself. Lachlann was his friend. Aonghas was a bully. “He speaks Gaelic better than you do and he speaks Norroena!”

Aonghas hardly spared him a glance. “You have a defender,” he told Lachlann, then started laughing. “A dumb ox and a cripple!” He snorted. “Good team!”

Swiftly, without a word, Lachlann punched Aonghas right in the nose. Rónán’s mouth dropped open. Suddenly, everyone was fighting. He hesitated, itching to jump in and not sure how. Then, he just did. He jumped in. Soon he was kicking, punching, and pushing like the rest of them. He even used his teeth a few times. It felt good to fight back.

And Lachlann proved that he was an ox after all, just not a dumb one. Nothing stopped him as he fisted his way through the throng. One by one, Aonghas’ friends fell away. As Rónán lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath, Aonghas and Lachlann stood staring each other down.

“I’ll get you next time, a dhaimh! Dumb ox! Your little friend won’t be able to help you.”

“We’re the same age, stupid,” Rónán grumbled, sitting up. He and Lachlann were nine. Aonghas the Ass was ten.

The bully took a step towards him but stopped when Lachlann stepped up.

“I’ll take care of you later, cripple,” he snarled.

“I know.”
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Without another word, Aonghas turned and stalked off down the hill towards their village.


That's all for now, folks! For more Medieval Monday, be sure to visit lovely medieval ladies Mary Morgan and our birthday girl Barbara Bettis. Best wishes, Barb!

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead! Cheers!