Within a league he came into a dark forest, probably the hunting preserve of some lord that lived beyond. The dark forest, watered by a stream, and inhabited by many summer crickets, was bisected by the Great Processional Road. He touched his ear reflexively and noticed, with a pang of loss, the absence of DJ Jervis’ coat-of-arms.

I know, Mother, there will be other cupbearers. But he was so well-dressed.

He banished the feeling of loss from his mind and continued on his divine way.

Just as he was enjoying the cooling air of the forest, a bright light, followed by the roar of a large cart and the laughter of drunken carpenters and the clatter of their boards, assaulted his serenity. He was angered, and decided to express this by recourse to the local custom. He saluted their rude passage with the hand gesture of the unclean finger, as they rumbled by.

This brought an instant response, as the cart screeched to a stop and rumbled back to him back-end first, stopping just short of his position. Then, without considering the gravity of their sins, three burly carpenters jumped out of the cart and seized roofing boards from the rear of the cart, which was in effect a long, gated box which apparently held the tools of their lowly trade.

They are big at least, though clumsy.

Now, it was a mortal insult for some tradesmen to be challenging a god, or even a warrior for that matter. But he could forgive them, and he would. They were, after all, drunk, and, after the undignified punishment of the goatherds, this would at least be a fight after a fashion. Indeed, given some time, he might even be able to train such as these as his shield-bearers.

Yes, make it honorable. Cut through their ragged curses with words to fight by.

As the men repeatedly harangued him with some of the very same words that the bride’s maids had earlier this evening employed to encourage his efforts and applaud his prowess, he halted their voices with the Open Hand of Power and announced in a booming voice that would have made his cultivated brother wince, “I do not take this as a threat, but as a test, and should any of you fight well, I swear, upon my Mother's bloody, brindle beard, to elevate you far above your lowly status, to stand as my shield-bearers in the coming war!”

The words and their usages spoken in response to his magnanimous declaration were so garbled and inappropriate he could scarcely make out the intention of these louts by their speech. But the largest did advance with his heavy beam held high for a shoulder breaking cleave. As the board whistled down Yule parried it with his right palm and buried the ball of his left foot deep under the man’s blubbery ribs, so that he folded over his foot like a stuffed hog over a spit, and flew back into his cart. Yule was now menaced by the two lesser carpenters, though he now had a roofing board of his own. As awkward as it was he was able to wield the beam as if it were a great waster in the practice yard. The two carpenters were down with broken legs within seconds.

Although they had not fought well enough to earn the honor of bearing shields for him, he did appreciate their battle spirit, and dragged the two broken-legged ones over to their ailing fellow with the ruptured spleen to keep him company. He patted them all forgivingly on the shoulder, forgave them their indignities, and then walked on into the night, feeling good that they would live.

Nothing good can come of slaying artisans and tradesmen. They are the builders of a nation after all. Goatherds though, they’ve always been a surely lot, troublesome besides.

Into the forest dark he strode—the darkest shade among the looming ghosts—a warrior without a sword, a lord without a steed, a conqueror without his army, a god without a temple...

In his myopic mind's eye hovered the smiling face of the blaspheming prophet, rising over the unseen mountains he knew rose far above this river basin. There, in the lurking hinterlands he would find his sword, slay the false-worded whelp, and build his temple from the bones of a slain nation.

War was on His way.