Forgotten Ground Regained
Lords of Battle
Originally published in Withowinde 208, p. 35, Winter, 2023
Horses, white as bone, warriors’ faces pale as snow,Kicking wild, galloping on the grassy brine,Glistening helms, fey spear points raised defiantly against the light,Rippling muscles straining for the fight.
Sweat on flanks, a silken skin,Salty swathes, silver thin,No time for turning, even as the bowman’s eye fastens on the featheringFingers loosing the shaft for the reckoning.
Majestic tails, whip-like sea spray on a western breeze,Tiw’s flaxen haired storm clouds riding with lightning speed,Scops reciting battle songs, ale oaths to prove,Middangeard’s chalky hills rumble with the thumping of their hooves.
Sweat on flanks, a silken skin,Salty swathes, silver thin,No time for turning, even as the bowman’s eye fastens on the featheringFingers loosing the shaft for the reckoning.
Majestic tails, whip-like sea spray on a western breeze,Tiw’s flaxen haired storm clouds riding with lightning speed,Scops reciting battle songs, ale oaths to prove,Middangeard’s chalky hills rumble with the thumping of their hooves.
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Copyright © Henry Wyvern, 2023