Day 120

For a day that started off so well, it has already gone quite far down hill. I was just musing a few days ago that it had been well over a year since last I slept a whole night. Then, at long last, the littlest barbarian went an eight hour stretch of sleep. I woke up before the rooster crowed, rested.

I got ready, cheerfully, and climbed the hill to the Gathering Hall. There the littlest barbarian and I found a quite different scene. The middle barbarian was in fine form, filled with energy and ready to face the day.

The eldest barbarian, on the other hand, has been cursed by some malevolent spirit. His thunderous visage glowered at me from the stuffed hides. He insisted that he hated everyone and everything. He would never go to the Halls of Learning again, he wouldn't put his furs on, and he must certainly wouldn't eat his breakfast.

I made every effort to convince him calmly, then not so calmly, then angrily, and finally furiously. All to no avail. He hates the world, he insisted. He wouldn't go, he insisted. He was informed, in no uncertain terms, that with or without his furs and with or without his breakfast, he would be attending the Halls of Learning.

Thus, before breakfast we had war.

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