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Old 12-09-2006, 10:17 PM   #30
littlemanpoet
Itinerant Songster
 
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Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: The Edge of Faerie
Posts: 7,072
littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Ædegard missed Leafa. For the two dozenth time since they'd left Minas Anor, he wondered what good he might be on this quest that had little if anything to do with an Eorling wheelwright. But he had given his word to Bêthberry; well, he had not given his word, but it was as good as having been done, for he meant to see it through, whatever it was. It was the Eorling way. A song came to him out of the dust heap of his memories from childhood, sung by a wayfaring Eorling minstrel. He haltingly mumbled the words to a simple tune that it seemed to him had come with the words that first time.

Hear of a hero ~ in the days of Helm,
of Béoldric of Westfold ~ who walked the wilds
with scabbarded sword ~ at his side always ready;
for in the Long Winter ~ came lean wolves,
fierce and fell ~ on the rim of Rohan,
their eyes lit ~ with evil light
setting fear ~ in the stoutest folk.

Béoldric the bold ~ feared no foe,
nor warrior nor wolf, ~ orc nor woses,
and hied him upward ~ to the hills and heights,
snowcovered and slippery, ~ the wind slicing.
Night came so cold ~ that his cloak did nought
to hold at bay ~ the hoar from Béoldric,
the wind whirling ~ and howling like wolves.


"What song is that?" asked Raefindan.

"'Tis a song of the Eorlingas," answered Ædegard. "Somehow it helps to ward the chill to think of another who suffered it worse and failed not."

"Sing it again, if you please, from the start. I would hear it again for it sounded well to me."

"Well enough," Ædegard smiled, heartened, and sang it over again, and told more of the tale in song.

Last edited by littlemanpoet; 12-10-2006 at 09:26 PM.
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