[Twnsqr] My Tale of the Tourney of the Ram

[Seamus Mac an tSaoi]

Hail Æthan Wordweaver
  Jealous is this aging herald with tongue of stone
  and failing eye
  Were it that I could paint words of Honor and praise
  as you
  Jealous will be those who did not brave the ice road
  to witness these deeds
  Huzzah!

Æthan of Eppelhyrste <aethan.sca at gmail.com> wrote:
    While frost flecked the sky and the feast
  Was fettered by able hands,
  The doors of the Blue Bull were brought open again and again,
  For Fergus, of great name and rightness with sinister hand
  And Renata, fairest in thelands of Wealdsmere,
  Her own touch light and strong as Freya's whisper
  Settled for their populace, steady and kind
  Willing the wonders of Weadslmere to endure past their rule.
   
  Outside, swords were unsheathed.
   
  Warriors, weary from travel and bold for battle had heard
  The Baron and Baroness's blessings, and came with mace and axe and blade.
  Linden shield softly shone with Thor's dusting white.
  Flakes flecked the beard of bold Brandt, whom some call Brandt the Broad Spire.
  He held staff aloft and invited soldiers to the crow's feast.
  His brother, the brave Baron and he who loved Wealdsmere with weight
  Steadfast and hearty, did unlimber mace and challenge others
  To come to this, his field, in this, his Tourney of the Ram.
  Mighty Caieth, unfairhaired and just to even the churlest cur,
  He who they name Caieth the True Hand, let show his sword and clash his shield,
  Well aware he and kind Araviere, she who's eyes light the hearth,
  Would reign the king's lands when Fergus and Renata stepped down.
  He brought with him that Spear of the Lion and gesith to the True Hand, Malachi,
  Who would be twice the Spear ere the night was through.
  Also there was Sven Gunnarson of An Tir, the true and real Sven, Duke
  To His Majesty's lands and often emulated but never duplicated, despite efforts
  By those in distant realms, for the Sven's wordfame climbs even Hadrian's Wall.
  Sir Michael, whom some call the Tall and others call the Timber Man,
  Shield broad and gamey, brought his blade and shield to the field, and he brought
  His bull, who those who know him call Bull, as he is Bull and Bull he shall be,
  Bold Bull.
  Olfuss Thorvaldson, yes, that same heathbeast of Halla's, lent his hand to the fray,
  And many more came with battle worthy helm and scarred shield.
  Even I set forth my lord's sword amidst the list.
  And then sun rang upon bronze, for Tiernan, ring-giver and Ard Righ of all An Tir
  Stepped forth, the crown of our lands blossoming from his brow,
  And it was his blade that did sting the Timber Man, mighty Sir Michael,
  So that when the field was cleared, when sword had dented helm and fast flurried strokes
  Had cut down each of those mighty warriors, those soldiers of the land,
  Those defenders of our sacred Sable Lion and the honor of An Tir,
  Naught but the two remained, Sir Michael, weakened by his ring-giver's stroke,
  And our noble king, Tiernan, Miranda, Ban Righ and fairest in all the realms,
  Always on his mind.
   
  But the king's battle had wearied his mighty arm, and as the Wyrd favor balance
  And sometimes fairness, and had blessed for all time good Tiernan, Ard Righ
  And best warrior in all the realm, so they also blessed Sir Michael this day,
  Seeing in him greatness and wyrd will, the boldness of battle,
  And the love for his lady, Regina, she for whom glaciers melt and embers burn.
   
  Tiernan, ring-giver and one whom some call the Fair King, noble and just,
  Did fall to Sir Michael's sword that day. And greatly pleased was he, good Tiernan,
  For a king's warriors should always prove their worth tho this, their Lord,
  And none so grand and great as Tiernan the Island Knight, Ard Righ, An Tir.
   
  And Sir Caieth, soon to hold the hand of Wealdsmere as her lord and protector,
  Did smile upon his ring-giver's congratulations to the victor, Sir Michael the Tall,
  Timber Man, for Caieth the True Hand knew that his lands held fine warriors
  For his king, Tiernan, Ard Righ, and Miranda, Ban Righ, who holds the reigns
  Of Henga and Hengest in her firm grip, long may it be they both shall reign.
   
  And I feasted, and shared the mead bench with these and more and more,
  And raised my horn to all, my worthy kin. And raised my pipe to the Twice Spear,
  Because it was hearty indeed. 

-- 
Æthan of Eppelhyrste, 
  Who had an amazing time seeing his old friends and new friends in Wealdsmere. I miss you all.
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