Long ago in the wild mark
Land of horse and spear and fen
There was a pack of monsterous wolves
Who'd lost their fear of Men
In a lonely house on the Westfold
There did a young boy did dwell
The wolves would stalk the young boys herd
And 'pon them nightly fell
The slaughter did continue
'Till the boy numbered eight years old
And the wolves were driven by hunger
Brought on by winters cold.
The boldest of the evil pack
A beast both cruel and foul
Did slyly, in the dark of night
Into the lads house prowl
Proud mother of the Riddermark
Her son she did defend
But beast with teeth so mighty sharp
Saw her to bloody end.
Alas, despair, did grip the boy
As the monster did advance
His hopes were slim, things did look grim
The boy had not a chance.
The beast grew bold, 'pon scent of blood
In dark eyes malice grew
It saw the boy as meat and flesh
And bones to crunch and chew!
But brave boy of the Eorlings
Would not bow to the beast
And with strong arm he swept up a knife!
To deny the wolf it's feast
Blood bubbled from the great hounds neck
And fountained from it's throat
And the boy stood back, and looked upon
The creature he had smote
The wolf was killed by the young boy
And after it was slain
He burned the house, the memories
And ne'er returned again.
The boy came cross a roving band
Of horsemen 'pon the Wold
And seeing a warrior of their kind
They welcom'd him to the fold.
With this brave band the boy did ride
Across his native land
Though he was young, when battle came
He'd always lend a hand.
He met an old, brave warrior
Humble and austere
Who taught the young boy how to war
And to fight without peer
The boy tended to their weapons
And kept them gleaming bright
And helped heal the wounded
After there have been a fight
But age and wanderlust took hold
And in the night away he stole
Taking but a single horse
Not much older than a fowl.
He rode for night and day and night
And on and on and on
With no companion but his horse
On which he rode upon.
Some years had passed, since home he'd left
In charred ruins standing alone
And now the boy t'was eighteen years
And quite without a home.
In youths full sway the boy was now
And so held in in youths full swing
He fell for a pretty serving maid
He found within an Inn
But alas! The girl had a man o' her own
And the lad felt that bitter sting
That his love, felt love for somebody else
And next to naught for him
Yet still good friends he soon became
With the girl and her loved one
But he was sadly quite aware
Love won't go once it's begun
He bided time, waited and watched
For his moment to arrive
And for the young fair maidens heart
The lad continued to strive
And one day to his woo and word
The young maid did fall
And in bed they slept, side by side
Each in the others thrall
Oh passion pure and full of youth
The vigour of young life
The boy held the maiden in his arms
And swore to make her his wife
But hark! Oh no! The jilted one!
The lover so betrayed!
Entered the room, long sword in hand
“Fight me, adulterous knave!”
The lad was not a murderous man
No hatred in his heart
But still, at noon the young men met
To let their battle start.
Sword and sword, the ring of steel
Resonated all up and around
And the poor maid could barely watch
As she was surrounded by this sound
The young men fought for the whole day
And fought 'till they could barely stand
But both were powered by the lust of hope
To win the young girls hand
But our hero, o' the Riddermark
Was in battle long trained
He lept and danced and swung and stabbed
And dodged, feinted and feigned.
'till blood he drew upon his foe
That tricked down his arm
And the jilted lover threw down his sword
And begged for mercy in alarm!
The life, was spared, the lover fled
And lad and maid did not tarry
Soon after the battle at high noon
The youths proceded to marry
The lad ne'er forgot his humble roots
Though his wealth did greatly grow
And there is a moral to this tale
To take away, you know
That fortune favours those who strike
Strike quickly and strike true
And if one day you hesitate
Sometime that day you'll rue.
