A Kinrowan Estate story: Speaker for the Ravens

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Yes, a crow whisperer. Wipe that look of doubt off your face, as the story I’m about to tell concerns one such being and his tale of what a crow whisperer is. Well, the tale is true as far as I know. And who am I to say it’s not true even if I suspect it’s not?

You’ve heard the story of the Tower of London ravens and that if they ever leave the Tower, it will be the end of Albion? Well I cannot say if that’s true, but the person who wandered into our Pub late one Fall evening wanted to tell a story. He asked for a dram of single malt, no water. I poured him a Glenglassaugh and waited for him to begin…

First he noted that the commonly accepted tale among the ‘respectable’ press is that the Ravens have been in resident only since the Victorian Era but he said they’ve been there since the thirteen hundreds, maybe even a lot longer. He added that the press is told that Ravens stay there because their wing feathers were clipped, thus they couldn’t fly away.

Neither is true, he said. Rather there’s been a crow whisperer, or to use the much older name, Speaker for the Ravens. Running in an unbroken line for well over a thousand years, each such person was taught the secret language of the ravens by the previous Speaker. It is an ancient language, predating any human tongue by uncountable years.

Each Speaker for The Ravens is told the story of how the first ancient Albion kings discovered that the Ravens were holders of the magic that bound them to the land, to the people, and to the gods themselves, so long as the Ravens dwelt in what would someday be London and specifically where the Towers would be built. But the Ravens wouldn’t be content if someone couldn’t Speak for them, someone who knew their True Names.

So that the many centuries, these men, and quite a few women, and some who weren’t actually human, served their roles so well that the unbreakable bonds have never been weakened nor even really tested.

I noticed through the Pub windows that looked out towards the ancient oaks favoured by the Estate corvids that all of the crows therein were watching him intently as he walked away from the Pub. And then they winged about him, cawing loudly, and waiting for his response.

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About Diverse Voices

Diverse Voices is our catch-all for writers and other staffers who did but a few reviews or other writings for us. They are credited at the beginning of the actual writing if we know who they are which we don’t always.

It also includes material by writers that first appeared in the Sleeping Hedgehog, our in-house newsletter for staff and readers here. Some material is drawn from Folk Tales, Mostly Folk and Roots & Branches, three other publications we’ve donedone the centuries.

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