Corpus Tamrielicum - The Imperial Library

[63] A Tale of Kieran
[63] A TALE OF KIERAN
A Tale of Kieran
Vegepythicus, editor
Librarian's Note ... The recorded tales of Kieran the Bard fall into three categories: the
Woodland Cycle, Castles and Kings, and an unnamed cycle of lusty tales (recently destroyed
by mysterious accident). Some are in the bard's own hand, while others, mere shadows of the
originals, remain only as bedtime tales for children. The structure exemplifies the helical form
favoured by listeners about the hearth on a long winter's eve. As to whether they describe real
events, be allegory, or be mere entertaining fancy, the reader must decide.
I.
Kieran was on the road from Wren to Fairtree, when he grew weary from the midday sun. His
boots were tight and he thought to remove them for a bit in the shade of a nearby oak (oaks
being a favourite of bards). This particular oak was venerable and gnarled, with sturdy
branches that dipped and swooped, nearly touching the ground in spots. From its shade Kieran
watched the forest creatures playing in the warm sun. But for the rustling of leaves, high
above, the only sounds were of butterfly wings and birdsong.
"What a peaceful day," Kieran thought as he watched a butterfly drift by, "What a beautiful
day! In truth, since bards first told tales, has there ever been a day more peaceful and beautiful
than this?" He drank from his waterskin and, taking his lute from its sack, cleared his throat
and began to sing: "Oh, the maidens of Wren are passing fair ... ...with breasts like melons,
and flaxen hair ..." He had just taken a deep breath to bellow the lusty chorus when a small,
feminine voice said, "Kind sir ..." He leaped to his stockinged feet, his face flaming red.
"Who's there?" he cried. The small voice repeated, "Please, sir, if you will be so kind ..."
Kieran looked about but saw no person or creature addressing him. "Pray thee," he cried.
"Show thyself or have cause to fear my dagger." (He tried desperately to remember where he
had last seen it.) "Whether thee be friend or foe, pray thee show thyself now." The small voice
replied from above him, "Kind sir, thou hast no cause to fear me, and I am in need of help.
Can thou find it in thy heart to aid me?" He looked up and saw naught but a small robin's nest,
three branches above him. Climbing swiftly, he found a robin with three tiny robinlings, their
mouths open wide. "Good mother robin," he asked, "Can it be thee who addresses me thus?"
"Kind sir," she replied, "I have hurt my wing and it will be at least a day before I might fly. If
my children do not eat soon, they will die. Would you be so kind as to bring a fat, juicy meal?
Would you find a caterpillar or earthworm or grub for my children?"
Now, Kieran was kind of heart and it was not within him to refuse a plea such as this, so off
he went into the forest. Searching under some mulberry leaves, he soon found a small green
caterpillar. It seemed a perfect meal for young robins. Plucking it from the leaf upon which it
fed, he prepared to hurry back to the oak when he heard a tiny voice. He opened his hand and
the caterpillar looked up at him with her big brown eyes wide with fear. "Kind sir," she said,
"wouldst thou kill me so thoughtlessly?" Kieran scratched his head in puzzlement and the
caterpillar continued: "When thou cooled thy feet beneath the oak, didst thou not find joy in
my parents' beauty as they danced before thee in the sun? I, too, am soon to change. Wouldst
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