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This poem is in response to romantisizing and trying to put a 21st century spin on the epic poetry form. I feel that one can only understand the protagonists by understanding the times; and, they were brutal times with no modern sensibilities. It's a personal thing, I guess. This my first edit - more to follow. It needs some upgrades...
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Dark leaden gray clouds just touching wind
bent trees
Little light shone into the murky night
Cold drizzle had become part of existence
The log and mud meeting hall squat on a rise
Inside
Air was thick with the smoke of braziers and burning fat
Tallow candles, and smelled of
Sweat from nights of men swapping tales from far away
Whens and wheres
Eating the roasted meats with two hands
Voices rising over one another in layers of truths
Armaments hung on pegs and leaned against the barkless beam walls
Mead steins half full and being filled
Drafted down with a broad swing of an arm
King Mydaefandynm knew the combined strength of his harriers
Toasts and meats were served by the comely maids of his
Lands
This was a gathering of warriors from the two oldest clans
That until this past reaping season killed one another
But now had a common foe
They sat on opposite sides of the long table
Half the men had tats of symbols not known to the others
Circles in circles, beasts with no names
Seared into their flesh after battles
Shaved heads and flowing locks met for this drink
Clansmen, I drink to your health and the death of our foes
A pounding roar like the waves of an angry sea
Yet, still distrust sat behind their eyes
Tomorrow, we hold the high ground tomorrow
And crush any that dare to advance before us
One sat silent with his broadsword sheathed on his back
Watching the men drink drafts next to him and whisper
They were a chink in the king's armor
we will not hold the ground to his left
we will be rich men come the sunset if there is one
With a single movement he swung his sword from his back and
Dropped the two men's heads onto the floor for the dogs
Men jumped and stood silent, but ready
Thank you Aethelrodmyd, you have found the traitors
Before they could do us harm
He sheathed his broadsword and sat and drank to the health
Of his lord
The door creaked open and a quiet breeze blew in
Before the headless traitor's bodies could
hit the floor
Warriors on both sides of the long table kicking out their stools
Behind them were on their feet
No one but the serving boy had noticed the door open
At the far end of the meeting hall a cloaked stranger blew in
Like a summer's breeze on a stagnant shore
Men were yelling at Aethelrodmyd
Language in gutteral grunts and howls not far above the nature
In which they all lived
The king's champion, the only one seated, drained his mead goblet
Somewhere out in the damp rainy heath sat a salamander on one
of the
Few solid spots
King Mydaefandynm pounded the table for silence and explained
Aethelrodmyd's role in trapping the traitors and claiming their
heads
For the king
"Haroo!" howled the harriers when the tale had been
spun for them
All sat to dine again
The boy still stared at the stranger in the multi-colored cloak
In a flaring light of the far brazier he caught the king's eye
As servers cleared the heads and bodies of the traitors
And brought more meat to the table
He spoke
"What means of a man are you to come to our feasting?"
All silenced at the king's questioning
"I beg your audience, great guests and master of the realm"
He drew out a large crystal that shone with inner light
All eyes were trapped in its wonderment
He threw it on the table and it shattered into as many pieces
as were
There
Each man had a cut stone in front of them
"Like so many pieces as before you, all can shine better
as one"
But no one paid attention to those words
Each picked up the piece of stone before them and stole it away
Into their purses
"Ah, like stands is each man, but together you can bind
as rope"
Only the boy heard all of the words
And drew to the man as he handed him a clear but rose globe
And winked as if he knew
"Are you a wizard come to ensure our victory on the field?"
Mydaefandynm waved the stranger forward to a seat near him
"Battles be, but like the moor will turn it all to peat"
Aethelrodmyd reached back for his sword eying distrust
The silent giant stood still
"Be still all who sup with Mydaefandynm, I ask for passage"
"Nothing more"
"Can you see tomorrow and what the battle brings?"
"Aye, nothing but death. No knowledge there."
The skin and leather clad harriers pounded
on the table
Only two men wore cloth, Mydaefandynm and
The stranger
Neither flax nor hemp, just animal and steel
This was not the refined times of legend
These were not the warrior princes of tales yet to be told
Each man was testament to his violence
After hacking their enemies they would rape and kill the other's
Women
And pike the children that were left
Hate and mother's milk the same fed diet for the victor's young
From birth distrust of others anything that was different
A lock of hair on the other side of the head or hair at all
Skin signs on the arm instead of the back
Or a different design on a scabbard
It took little to make an enemy or foe
And only clan to make them with
Fierceness shone in their eyes
As hate pierced across the table to the other side
There were no friends only clansmen
Those you fought with today may die by your sword tomorrow
"Each of you have a piece of the crystal"
"It shines but a small part by itself, but like the sun
when together"
Grunts and guttural barking of the groups within groups questioning
Language was not one of their weapons or shields
When the yelling died down
"Think on this, each of you is like a stand in the rope"
"Twisted together you have strength"
The boy understood where the men left off
Mydaefandynm invited the stranger to sup as he threw off
A man to his right
He distrusted the cloaked man but wanted him close
Near him and Aethelrodmyd
"Speak your name and purpose for coming to us"
Names held keys to whys, wheres, and who
Cykles nee Gryffred from Holyrood byrn
Dark boyhood memories of an ending of time
Burning pyres of flesh and smoke filled with death
The violent dragon ship raiders laid waste to everything
Living but the children
They left them alone on the coast with ash filled air
All the valuables burning or gone
He had seen his father struck down then beheaded
His mother raped and gutted
Violence too graphic for a five year old
He was gathered together with the other four children on the
bluff
As everything was torched
When the ship pulled out, he weeped with the others
Cykles was saved from sure death of starvation, exposure
Gryffred, a traveler, a naturalist, a mystic had seen the smoke
He placed the others with farmers inland
And taught Cykles about the world
Why the stones faced the sun and how to read the night sky
The service of the Oak
The meaning of the seas and water
The chanting of the Holly
Like Gryffred, Cykles did not wish to join the service of magic
But stay in the world of nature and men
It's time boy for me to teach another and for you to use what
You know
You've grown true and peace shines through you
It's time for you to take an orb and a robe
Cykles remained in the highlands for three cycles of nature
Until he'd seen the signs of war and gathering clouds around
Mydaefandynm
He knew this was more than the usual clan on clan
The violence would be great and widespread
Commoners would be laid to waste as well as land
This was another ending time of grief and death
It was time for him to try and not see little ones left to nature
He would walk through the doors on this low gray night
It was time to tell the tale of the twine
And show a light from the crystal
To remove a hate from eyes
And a singing of steel from ears
Rex Mydaefandynm mac Mydaefand from Firth
upon Forth
Had only one lesson to learn while young
Kill or die
At five winters he was given a sword by his father
And set upon a dog with a bone
The dog died at his hands
By seven summers he was an accomplished hunter
Mastering bow and blade
He never knew too well his mother
She was a singer of songs and sat at his father's feet
Her being from the highlands and he being lord of the lows
Mydaefand a most fearsome warrior married his children well
And interlaced his conquests with holdings by blood
Mydaefand took no prisoners and had no use for ransoms
When he showed up on the fields or in the halls
There was no parlaying to be done
As his first born son he learned the hand was for two reasons
To hold a weapon and crush an opponent
By his eleventh summer he fought by his father's side
He learned the advantage of fear
Many ghosts circled his feet
He had drank from their skulls at their fires
When the father fell in Mydaefandynm's fifteenth fall
He stepped into his stead without a nod
And routed the enemy without leaving a single one standing
Destroyed the village and burnt down the fields
Those hiding went hungry that winter
And tales of this young lord grew long with the shadows
Around cold hearths of his cold heart
The winds whispered death at his coming
By his eighteenth spring he called his family to him
And told them to tell others of the coming storm
Because of his birth and place he laid claim to both high and
low
Lands within
The call went out and homage was paid
The two places where it was not, laid smoldering by the fall
Raiders came to his coasts and ships were sent back to sea
On fire
The most feared harriers of his time came to him
They followed his every command
The only sound one heard at disagreement was the hum of his
Long sword
Before it stuck you down dead
There was no breach of confidence
There were no questions to be raised
He brooked no excuses and took nothing that he didn't want
But what he wanted was his
He could be cruel or kind, it stood at his pleasure
As he stood over other men by a head
He built halls and protected his lands against non-clans
There was but one rule of law
Kill or die
Not many challenged this court
Those who did, had their heads on a pike
He was king
Legends would soften his edges
Sing praises that were never there
Future generations make him seem as though fair
But those around his life knew that he was as fiery and as
Wild as his red burning hair
And the serpent with teeth that he wore on his arm
Kyryrn was lord of some lands below the
Forth
These were rich areas of calm and trade
These were towns using the law of land
And Kyryn was even and respected rather than feared
The first attacks from the dragon boats had come at
Midsummer
They had looted and burned
Killing subjects at random without conscience
When the second slaughter came during reaping time
Lord Kyryn collected men owing fealty and sent the sun-beards
back
To the sea
But at a great cost in lives and autumn crops for the winter
This third landing was too much for the lands of Kyryn
And they stayed this time to winter on these shores
Merchants and landholders came to Kyryn to hold court
This court sent negotiators to the sun-beards
Their heads came back on pikes
There'd be no peace as long as they ruled the coast
The fearsomeness of Mydaefandynm and his men were known in
The world
It was decided to send emissaries to his court and pay him with
Trading rights, lands, and suzerainty
Mydaefandynm's lands had not been attacked by the dragon ships
Since he had sent them back into the sea burning
All men knew of his reign and champion Aethelrodmyd
To rid themselves of a frightful attacker they needed someone
Whose legend was more powerful
Homage was paid and accepted
There would be a force sent down from above the Forth
On winter's worn
The day the winter turned toward spring
This was good news to men in the lands of Kyryn
Mydaefandynm knew he could extent his rule
And give his men something to fight over besides each others'
owns
Time to kill someone else besides lowland or highland lords
And he knew he brooked no prisoners
There was no ransom handsome enough for him
It would be a good fight
He was ready
Kill or die
He called his men to him
I tried to warn them what would happen,
so I did
Old Moss readied his home beneath the tree for winter's wind
He lived within the roots as he was anchored to the ground
The tree had lived as long as the thick forest was
Old Moss was a magician to some
And a religious to the others
But as respected as the forest
Just because there is snow on the roof
That doesn't mean that all is dead below
He touched his white hair and shook his head
A mouse ran towards the door
I went to Lord Kyryn and his court and spoke, so I did
Old Moss understood the meaning of the stones
Their lie to the sun and direction to the stars
What hid in the holly and the meaning in the bush
Just because the locusts come and eat your crops
No one would invite the vermin in to eat them
What would be of the hunger they would have next
No one took his meaning or his council
He hunkered down for a long cold winter
The land is good and ripe with taking
Was easy for us to pull our boats ashore
Halkoc sailed the sea to here and the men can grow rich
With plunder
These peasants were easy to pick clean
No real resistance
When the winter winds cease to storm
We'll take are treasures home and
Have taken what we want and go
And live well
Our families will grow strong and right
For now in winter's soft low glow
We'll wait our time and remain warm
Mydaefandynm's hall was ripe with time
Tomorrow's march would be swift and strong
The dragon's ships would burn
This stranger's presence was still some sport
Yes, mead and meat were still on table
His head might join the traitors'
The darkness invited in a tongue to speak
Entertainment for the men and diversion from the death
Of some
This sport would play out soon
Speak your piece, cloth coat
Aethelrodmyd sat as the man wearing cloth
spoke
He'd done his deed dealing with traitors whose heads
Had rolled to the wall
Words had no meaning and he eat his meat
Smashing the glowing rock into pieces was a trick
He could do it with his sword
The only skills were with dirk, axe, bow, sword, and targe
Cykles entered into the low smoky light
Holding his hand open
As you would for a dog to smell so that they knew you
Were friendly
He never felt the weight of the air
Each of you are a shard or stand in the twine of the rope
Together you are as strong as a pull
You can create the good for all
Build and hold the fabric of life to grow
Teach and instruct the young, instill with great deeds
End your killing and turn that energy into light
As I've given each of you the crystal
He streached out his arms and the stones began to glow
The harriers held their tongues until he finished
They began low, and then howled with laughter
We are not schoolers, we are warriors
Mydaefandynm's few words told all
The men pounded the table with delight in this sport
The future of the ground beneath their feet would not grow green
But red
Cykles knew that the twin stairs leading down into the dark depths
of madness
Were memories and regrets
This night would not shine with knowledge
He walked out through the door he had entered
Into the murky darkness
They had forded the Forth
The ferrymen's boats had been loaded to the gunnels
With men-at-arms
They took what they needed as they went along
The days were short of light and the weather remained cold and
damp
The hore-frost had killed what was left afield
But meat for them remained plenty
Anything that was grazing ended as spit-roasted
Old Moss felt what was afoot and traveled the distance from
His tree to the hills above the coast
He hoped against his good sense to help Lord Kyryn
Keep his lands from forever famine of spirit
The boy was squire to King's nephew Wyllse mac Googan
The flank commander
Googan had been a champion of the King's father
He struck fear in opponents with his site and roar
Wyllse was known to drink from the skulls of his defeated
Capturing their spirits forever in his blood
This gave him the strength and endurance of many
His prowess with bow was swift and deadly
Mydaefandynm's numbers crested the coastal hills as the low sun
Peaked over the water
Halkoc and his sailors saw a double rise that cold life-less
morning
They prepared
Mydaefandynm set his camp
I want many fires tonight, set one for each three men
Set their fears afire as well
All that short day preparations were made for the coming battle
Neither side would take ransoms
It would be till the end
Lord Kyryn's men were held back
They were only to be used in pursuit not for the main event
That evening the fires raged as the harriers seethed
We go at just after the moon crests, we will catch them unawares
They wait until dawn, they'll be souls by then
Three to a flame
The boy walked up to the fire of Wyllse to warm himself
Nasty business, huh boy?
Yes sire, they will be carrion by the dawn, the crows will eat
well
Old Moss and a distant cloked stranger watched
As the stars did their dance in the night sky
And hills burned and came alive moving towards the coast
Mydaefandymn took the lead leaving the fires licking at the night
The advance men had slit the throats of any outlieing dragonship
guards
When the village was surrounded, Mydaefandymn gave the yell
What battle there was, was over quickly
Almost all of the exchanges were one-sided
Aethelrodmyd cut a swath through men with a whistling sword
Sending heads flying to his left and right
He didn't even need to change his charge from edge to edge
Wyllse met him on the sand with little but blood on his own person
There were no terms but death
Halkoc lost his life as he stood up to reach for his shield
There were no differences between sailors and farmers
All that stood were put to the blade
The ground ran red and was littered with head-less bodies
Short and broad swords dripped
The ships were loaded, doused and set aflame
Now Mydaefandymn saw a double fire rise
Kyryn's pleasure was not mirrored in the eyes of the two others
who saw
The dual burnings
The only booty that Mydaefandymn choose were weapons, land, and
tribute
Kyryn could keep the grain, his people would be fed
Another Side of Epic (part 10)
One story's ending is another's beginning
What tale there is, was told
But Cykles and old Moss, like the stranger, Death, knew
Life tolls no bell at its end
The rivulets that ran red soak into the ground
And one's death does not define one's life
It's the living of it that does
No one but perhaps save Lord Kyryn believed that Mydaefandymn
Would leave now that the task was done
Old Moss shook his head as he turned to walk back
To his house in the tree
He had seen the future of suffering in the flames of the morning's
light
And smelled the burning flesh and wood
Cykles found the boy and hoped to change one mind
At a time
As was passed to him would he pass down
And hope for the best after
The lifeless lost their lovers, daughters and sons their fathers,
Wives their husbands, and parents their sons
Pride was not measured but the stains on the swords
The winner one day was food for the crows the next
But each day, each hour is all that we may have
What small precious stones that build upon each other?
What collections of mammal hair spun into our garments?
Choosing between red and white and black
We set the fabric on the loom and select the threads
This tale is done, the event is complete
The killings not stopped, nor our minds free from grief
Each of our clothes are stained and none a single color
It's our next thread that counts