Redbeard came by my quarters before he left and handed me another manuscript. It was a little worn and tattered, a few stains; blood or wine, or both. I have managed to transcribe everything that was there.
I know not what moved him to give it to me now, for he said little of it. In fact, I know not how he has managed to keep it hidden from me - he had allowed me to look through his entire collection of songs, tales and poems that he had kept in a great chest. This, I believe, is the only one he ever scribed that was his own words.
It is that great unfinished song of his, the one that none of us knew the words to. I had thought for all these years that even Redbeard didn't truly know the words, that perhaps the song was not a song at all, merely something he said, muddled by time and drink.
As I read it now, I feel he has freed a piece of himself to us. I am honoured that he has chosen to share this with me, his childlike dream - "A Hero's Death".
Don't lay me down, I need no rest,
My childlike dream is marching West,
You lead on, I follow still,
Until I sleep beneath the hill,
For I will charge the sundered plain,
And bring the hand of peace to reign,
The dream will calm the restless beast,
And we shall dine and on him feast,
My cup I raise, I drink the wine,
To toast that childlike dream of mine,
The cheer of men who've bested death,
Who lived beyond the monster's breath,
We stand against the rising swarm,
The dark that seeks to stay the morn,
But morn will come and we shall rise,
Our children grow to claim the prize,
On starlit sky am I to be?
An ancient seat for all to see,
Don't lay me down, I need no rest,
My childlike dream is marching West,
When time does come and I'm to go,
Assure your sons for they must know,
Shake not your head when questioned still,
"Do heroes sleep beneath the hills?"
Don't lay me down, I need no rest,
My childlike dream is marching West.
