2012 TREASURE HUNT CLUE #5: I'm an unpalatable plant, but my leaves, when fermented, have a use. What am I? (Answer: Dyeweed / dyerís woad)
(This is a Story about the Human Tribes -- see listing for related stories.)
See me, Bear-Father. Listen to my plea, All-Mother.
Take this blood that I offer you. Drink and listen to my war song.
With this sacred paint, I go to war.
With ash in my mouth, I am humble
With the mareís milk on my tongue, I am fast
With the bearís fat on my tongue, I am strong
With the sacred blue on my skin, I will know no fear
I paint my vows upon on my skin
I paint my promises upon my horse
I paint these things for all to see
With the sacred paint, I vow to honor you and bring you gifts
Gifts of blood. Gifts of meat. Gifts of slaves.
These I will bring to you, in this life, or at your hearth in the next.
With the taste of my own blood
I wake the axe blade
I wake the bow
I wake the spear
This ó for each warrior whose life I have taken
This ó for each wound I have survived
This ó for each son I have fathered
My foes will read who I am, and know they have tasted defeat by a worthy man
So that they will look for me again at All-Motherís hearth
Where together will we drink and feast
With the gift of my own blood into the sacred bowl
I paint these promises onto my skin.
I paint these vows onto my horse.
For all to see and fear.