From out of the mists
On a foggy moor
Distant echoes of hoof beats
Nearer they pound
Preceding their source
A darkened shape forms
Cloak fluttering madly
Ghostly fingers unseen
Hold it aloft
A tall figure on horse
Clad fully in black
A dark contrast to
The silver Moon's light
The grinding of cogs
The clanking of chain
Portcullis raised
A gate swung open.
Sudden activity
Spawned from alarm
Hurried ranks fall in
Under torches blazing
Their silence bespeaks
Unheard questions
"Secure the gate now,
Then ready your arms"
Calls the figure on horse
As he slides to a halt
A stable boy appears
To take the steaming mount
Firmly in hand
The steed stamps his hooves
Nostrils flaring wide
Strong hands on the reins
The stable boy waits
He murmurs quiet words
As he strokes
The steaming neck
From under the cloak
Unseen until now
The rider reveals
The form of a child
With outstretched arms
A chamberlain approaches
As gently the dark rider
Lowers down the child
Frightened by strangers
Shivering from cold
He looks about him
Yet utters no sound
With questioning eyes
The chamberlain wonders
"Not now" says his lord
As he waves him away
The rider dismounts
And calls on his Captain
The man steps up
Ever at the ready
Leaning in close
He tries to hear
Amidst the din
Of weapons and men
Portcullis lowered
Its cogs locked tight
Heavy doors slam shut
Solid timbers their brace
Fires banked low
Heavy kettles are hung
A soup of death boils
Deep in their wombs
Quivers of arrows
Hauled up on rope
Wary eyes watch
From ramparts above
Silent bailey walls
Hide panic within
Women with children
Gathered so near
Low unto high
No rank matters here
Sobs are concealed
Duty to uphold
New arrows fletched
Wares of death
Linen bandages rolled
Herbs and potions
Wares of healing
Fearful young eyes
Locked on a door
Tiny hands grasp
At billowing skirts
Silent prayers sent
For a safe night's passage
The door swings open
A child cries out
Loving arms reach over
To hold her close
The chamberlain stands
Uncertain in the arch
The attention of all
On the burden he carries
He steps forth
From the threshold
The child in his arms
Looks about him in awe
A maid comes forward
And gently takes the child
Hair matted down
Crusty and red
Remains of his tunic
Hang by tattered threads
Slowly tears fill up
His young sullen eyes
"Momma gone"
The only words
He finally releases
The maid holds him close
Her arms gently soothe him
She looks up in question
At the chamberlain's eyes
He silently shrugs
With an answer
"The Master brought him in,
I know not from where."
He casts a look around
At all who are there
His eyes fall to rest
On bundles in cradles
Above them on tables
Full quivers of arrows
He draws in his breath
As his blood runs cold
If only to know
Is their fate foretold?
And what of their future
This dark mournful night
These children before him
For them he feared most
How hopeless he felt
Against this enemy unseen
His sworn oath called out
With each of their hearts
Abruptly he turned
And stepped to the hall
Silently closing the door
Before his doubts
Were exposed
end of part one
copyright 2004 by me under my real name
