Spirit Song

The fearful wind whispers through the broken reeds, Hugo - Hugo

Hear the tiny claws scramble on cold hard stones, beware, beware.

Listen to the story of the Jouvenal sword, attend, attend

Dread silence crashes in the flashing gloom,

while eagles hide with mist shorn wings,

and a floating sword carves truth from sin

to pay debt to the ghost of Jouvenal.

The castle had stood a thousand years

to turn Persians and Mongols aside.

The towers were tall ‘round a hidden well

and mossy stones within thorns did hide.

Myth said twas mortared with virgin blood

with a ring moat of serpents and tear.

Dread silence crashes in the flashing gloom

while brave knights swear fealty anew.

Purpose and honor should inspire them

to match the life of Jouvenal.

Sir Hugo remained while four rode out

to claim full pride of a battle guard.

By lot his fate was to guard the gate

with less valor sure for bloodless sword.

“Safe return my friends,” he cried anon

“The gate awaits those without fear.

Their race came stride their foaming steeds,

three dead in saddle and comrade dear.

“Betrayed,” he cried with parting breath.

“Preserve our pledge, quick - prepare.”

Hugo strode out 'fore postern gate,

spear and shield stood forever near.

Dread silence crashes in the flashing gloom

for a blood quest is honor bound,

and such treachery must quick renounce

or face the wrath of young Jouvenal.

Baron turned coward crested the hill

leading ranks of minions most foul.

Nothing stood ‘tween his covet tower

but slender knight called Jouvenal.

His charged intent hardly slacked

as archers called he from the rear.

The crossbow has but two hundred range,

while the Sythian bow crosses three.

In motion swift as a falcon wing

six arrows set these archers free.

Then followed the Baron’s favored horse

and two squire sons he held so dear.

Dread silence crashes in the flashing gloom

where evil is met with more sure portent.

So bold are they two hundred to one,

but quick to their heels from Jouvenal. 

The milling throng did distant withdraw

to curse this blight to well laid plan.

But none would stride upon the road

where Jouvenal did protect his clan.

Yet chivalry did provide relief

for single challenge did honor share.

A knight strode down the rutted road

with shield and banner lofted high.

Sir Hugo met with buckler and sword,

with courage found one cannot deny.

The sparks did match the flow of blood

from fallen knight ,neath Hugo’s glare.

Another fine knight approached the field

to clank in the dust before the keep.

Five more in turn did quick battle meet,

and each in turn made a widow weep.

But each defeat took a bitter toll

of strength and blood beyond repair.

Dread silence crashes in the flashing gloom

where valor designs its own defeat.

A warrior slow wounded in victory

will match the sad fate of Jouvenal.

As he fell to knees, no foe ahead

Sir Hugo cried out to comrades down.

“Support me now in oath and quest

to carry this day - defend the crown.”

Dead comrades all did answer the call

bound by fine will each could share.

The sword swept up from the stricken hand

to dance in the air with spinning light,

to vanquish each challenge evil bent,

and none could pass dead Hugo’s might.

New souls departed were two score more

before all ran from the Baron’s care.

The sword still stands before open gate

imbedded in stone than none can take.

Good will can pass with contented heart,

giving a prayer for courage sake,

but evil does shrivel and run away

from symbol of shame they must beware.

Dread silence crashes in the flashing gloom

where sword of Hugo defends the gate.

Where honor is sacred to comrades

you will find the spirit of Jouvenal.

             Jouvenal - Jouvenal

Kinjal of Moravia