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The Fall of Shepstead II



(See part I: https://laurelinarchives.org/node/63225)

 

But scoffs then Sigehelm scornful laughing

“This bumbling boy bursting into the hall

A-feared yet of dark, of feathers his courage, 

Starting as sudden as stone-scattered birds.”

 

Wary Leothwise, word-weaver answers,

You slatternly slave to sloth and drink

Ready at hand should be rider’s weapons, 

Better swift sword to scabbard returned

Then laments of sorrow, too late be sung.  

When an enemy stalks in the encroaching night,”

 

Generous Guthleoth gravely listens

And rushes out, retainers following 

Spears they seize to see the peril,

Their shields sure, and shining swords, 

Threat to thwart if threat there be,

 

To ramports rushing running swiftly 

Into darkness deepening danger seeking

Peering into the plain that patient waits

 

Quavering suddenly quake the men

From shivering shadows shirking away 

With horror watching the horde approaching

 

Up Guthleoth stands his glittering sword

Outdrawn in his anger against the foe

“Dour-faced men, draw forth your swords,

And dare to defy these death-mongers grim

Our children watch this challenge now

And if orcish evil them orphans leave,

Worse the shame should they endure,

If from coward’s cradles they claim descent. 

Strong now strike,  and stout-hearted be.”

 

In one voice answered those admirable men,

“Death is their due, dare they to strike

The Riddermark’s riders, resolved and firm,

Against the angry and arrogant host 

Fight we all firm and fierce our wrath”

 

Then raised they weapons, their radiant spears, 

Glimmering in the gloom of gathering night,

To gate they marched the garrison proud, 

And in dusk dreary, doughty they stood. 

Immovable against marauding host 

The splendid spears a steel wall 

To face the foe that foul did come

Beneath their banner braying senseless

With gabbling gibes, grotesquely onward.

 

With easy disdain the dauntless men

Repulsed the ranks of raging woe-makers

The stones now scarlet, soaked in blood.

Though first the flood failed seemed,

Crashing continued the crushing wave, 

Coming ceaseless, the swelling tide.  

 

(Part two of probably four.)