The Bird and the Sword

Swallow, daughter, pull them in, those words that sit upon your lips. Lock them deep inside your soul, hide them `til they¿ve time to grow. Close your mouth upon the power, curse not, cure not, `til the hour. You won¿t speak and you won¿t tell, you won¿t call on heaven or hell. You will learn and you will thrive. Silence, daughter. Stay alive.





The day my mother was killed, she told my father I wouldn¿t speak again, and she told him if I died, he would die too. Then she predicted the king wo...