Musings of a Nascent Poet

  But, then he turned and, then, she saw

  His features fine and firm,

  But it was not those handsome bones

  That made hard Tanschel yearn.

  Those eyes! Those eyes, like dying coals

  Glowed with an inner light

  And with a hate so palpable

  She felt it heat the night.

  A wealth of deprivations dwelled

  Behind those glowing eyes.

  Those crimson eyes had called her soul;

  It had not been his size.

  As her mind assessed this man

  (And with all in his favor),

  Her stirring shape his vital eyes

  Had just so stopped to savor.

  "A pretty wench," he finally said;

  His voice was firm and deep.

  "A pretty wench, indeed, my girl,

  That I would like to keep."

  And all the men in the room who heard

  Softly held their breath;

  The last man who had said such words

  Had swiftly met with death.

  "And do you think you're worthy

  For someone such as me?

  Come, man, and we shall wrestle

  And then, my friend, we'll see!"

  "Ha! My maid, I shall not.

  I'd not like to crush your shell.

  If you'd as soon not have me,

  Another wench'd do as well!"

  She frowned and then her sword flew out;

  It glistened in the light.

  "No one gives offense like that

  And goes without a fight!"

  As she spoke, a giant hand

  Reached out to catch her wrist,

  "Now wench, you would not like to feel

  A tap from this huge fist."

  Her face, it was the frozen mask

  That men had always faced,

  But harsh lines broke down in a smile,

  Her white teeth unencased.

  "Well, wench, it seems you've met your match,"

  He said and showed his teeth;

  He didn't see her knife return

  Into its hidden sheath.

  So, he became her lover, Traig,

  Who'd "won her in fair test,"

  But when he saw his Tanschel fight,

  He wondered who was best.

  He stood once to defend her name,

  But she told him to stand clear,

  And though the man, this once, survived,

  He held her name more dear.

  "I see," he said, "your fighting skills

  Are nothing to deplore.

  I wonder in our tussle why

  You did not fight me more. . ."

  "I'm sure, Traig, you fight very well,

  Achilles to the letter,

  But remember I fight just as well

  If not a little better."

  "Though I would win no matter, wench,"

  Tanschel, she only smiled,

  "I know you gave in much too soon

  For you are much too wild."

  "True," she replied, her mouth perked up,

  A twinkle in her eye.

  "I cannot say I'm sorry, wench,

  But could you tell me why?"

  A look of pain and then she spoke,

  "Tanschel has not been wise.

  Did you know that I love you, Traig,

  And love your glowing eyes?

  In seconds, everything I'd known

  Was rendered obsolete.

  I had no rule upon my heart

  That you have made complete.

  For years I've searched but never found,

  Though many tried for me,

  Yet one glance deep into your eyes

  And they are all I see.

  A wizard wise when I was born

  Claimed I would love a man

  With fire glowing from his eyes,

  With arms of mighty span.

  I knew before I saw your eyes

  That now I had been caught,

  For all the battles had been lost

  Before I'd even fought.

  The prophecy is true at last,

  And now you are my heart!

  And nothing now can stop my love

  Or render me apart!

  If I lived forever, dear,

  My love, it would endure,

  And, as it is a mortal wound,

  What use have I for cures?"

  A crease stood out between his brows,

  And, on his face, a scowl.

  She'd feared he did not love her

  And their friendship would be fouled.

  "I'm sorry, Traig, I bothered you:

  I see my love's unshared.

  I was afraid that would be so,

  Though how I hoped you cared!

  Traig, my love, it's not your fault

  That dreams are found untrue.

  Someday, you'll find another girl

  As 'any wench will do.'

  Don't worry; I can understand,

  With you, I have no pride.

  Go and take another wench, but

  I'm fighting by your side!"

  He took her face and held it up

  In hand of massive size

  And couldn't see how anyone

  Could see ice in her eyes.

  "Silly wench, don't worry so,"

  Voice as gentle as his touch,

  "For there is not another wench

  That I could want so much.

  You fight so well. You love so well.

  Now, what more could I ask?

  And as I'll ne'er need substitutes,

  Why take me to task?"

  "Do you love me?" and then she sighed,

  "Your silence tells me all.

  I'll try to never ask your love,

  But I will hear your call!"

  He held her close and loved her then

  And every night thereafter.

  They fought and pilfered, side by side;

  Their lives were filled with laughter.

 

  So it might have continued

  But for night of drunkenness

  For they awoke in castle

  Brought in at the King's behest.

  "So, you are the mighty thieves

  Whose names I often hear.

  Tanschel and Traig, the shadows,

  The thieves without a peer."

  "I fear, my lord, you've not heard right.

  My wench lives by the law,

  And as for me, could I steal jewels

  That no one ever saw?"

  "'Tis true you're not a shadow,

  But I can take but what I see:

  What gem is that around her neck?

  Purloined undoubtedly."

  "Indeed you're wrong. My mother

  Gave this precious gem to me.

  I've worn it now since I was born,

  My dam died then, you see."

  "So, the wench speaks too. Forgive me.

  I doubt that that could be.

  The ruby heart cannot be yours

  Though it hangs quite fetchingly."

  She laughed. "If I am such a thief

  Then credit me with thought.

  A good thief with his stolen goods

  He never would be caught."

  "Too true, too true, I must concede

  On you, I have no proof,

  But I didn't bring you to accuse.

  You're guest beneath my roof."

  He gestured and his men were gone.

  "Come close, I have a job for you

  And as you favor rubies fine,

  A ruby prize will be you due.

  Now, an upstart you must stop

  Who wants to take my throne.

  Prince Frace who takes his action

  With a goal I can't condone.

  Those with him feel he is a god

  And care not for their King.

  He helps them not, but they would die

 
For chance to kiss his ring.

  He must be stopped! He must be stopped,

  Must leave my country fair.

  What he does over other lands

  Is not within my care."

  His fingers snapped; a goblet came

  Filled full with ruby wine.

  "Jewels lose their luster when

  All jewels I see are mine.

  Remember gold is cold and hard

  And jewels don't love well.

  Remember having everything

  Can be a private Hell."

  It was later in that evening

  When she held her lover near.

  "You know Prince Frace cannot be stopped.

  The price by far's too dear.

  Let's take the gems we have tonight

  And leave it as it was.

  This job I fear; it gives me fright,

  And my feeling has a cause.

  I know this man is powerful;

  He'd kill without a thought.

  Don't venture to his citadel

  For, oh, if you are caught. . .

  Traig, look at me! Please look at me,

  He might do you harm!

  I need to have you hold me so:

  I'm cold without your arms."

  His arms locked at her pleading words

  And held her to his frame,

  But, though he seemed to acquiesce,

  His eyes glowed bright with flame,

  With hate, for he was firm to course,

  And had to leave that night.

  He loved her, so he'd leave her here,

  But this man he had to fight.

  His parents, when he was but a boy,

  Were, to Frace's minions, lost,

  And he had vowed the Serpent priest

  Would someday know the cost.

  As she slept, he spoke to her,

  "I love you now, Tanschel.

  I haven't always known my heart,

  But now it loves you well."

  When Tanschel woke, she was alone,

  But dressed and traced her man,

  And, though he rides a horse quite well,

  He can't ride as she can.

  Lighter, faster, she soon caught up

  And jumped from horse to horse,

  Then grabbed the bridle from his hands

  And finally slowed his course.

  "You can go, but you won't leave me!"

  And she pulled him to her kiss.

  "I said I'll e'er fight with you.

  You can't escape from this!

  If my body you want no more,

  By that I will abide,

  But no force demons could devise

  Can keep me from your side.

  Even from the depths of Hell,

  If you were still alive,

  I'd come to protect your life,

  And still fight by your side!"

  "Come, then, my wench, and welcome

  For your body too, you'll find,"

  But fear for her was screaming

  From inside his fevered mind.

  And so they rode on toward the North

  Where the Serpent kept his lair.

  They camped near Frace's mountain-church

  And did their planning there.

  Then, in they stole, like shadows they,

  And set the mount a-fire,

  Then rode away a distance far,

  From there to watch the pyre.

  The fire was gone! The priest had had

  His minions douse the fire's flare.

  Tanschel and her beloved knew

  His vengeance they would share.

  Tanschel saw it first and stopped it,

  Let it lance her tender side!

  If her Traig would then be safe,

  Let it mar her perfect hide!

  "No!" Traig cried, his arms outstretched

  And sought the deadly dart,

  But the dart was gone and he found

  Nothing but her ruby heart.

  "Take it, my love, and kiss me,

  And hold me to your breast.

  If only I could have your love,

  I would not mind the rest.

  Just keep inside your mighty chest

  The memory of my love.

  No matter what your heart then feels,

  It I've a corner of."

  He kissed and cried, "You've all my heart!"

  "Oh, no, it's filled with hate!

  Just always keep my love in mind

  And I shall not berate."

  "I love you so, dear Tanschel, wench;

  I've always loved you much!"

  And kissed her time and time again

  'Til she was icy to the touch.

  And hate, indeed, he felt, but kept

  A corner for Tanschel,

  And vowed again that Frace would find

  His fate the way to Hell.

  And Traig, the man who never cried,

  Cried for the dead Tanschel.

  "If only I had held her more

  Or told her more how well

  She lived in my poor, cold regard

  And that I loved her so.

  'Twas not 'til she was doomed to die

  That I had let her know.

  Tanschel! Tanschel! I miss you so!

  If only you were here,

  I'd swear I'd only let you laugh

  And never shed a tear."

  But she was gone, the priest lived on,

  And his vow rang in his mind.

  Traig could cry when Frace had had

  A chance to pay his fine.

  For Frace had sent his army

  Just to kill the mourning Traig,

  One man against a hundred men,

  One man against a plague.

  But Traig had fury and his heart

  To fight the mindless men.

  This battle he would not allow

  Cruel Frace have way and win.

  So zombie after zombie fell

  To Traig's impassioned blows,

  And, yet, he stayed himself unharmed,

  Though how, nobody knows.

  But, finally it was he and one

  Great general in a fight.

  The general quickly threw tired Traig

  For his breath came short and tight,

  But as the blow came down upon

  Traig's tired, unguarded breast,

  A swift sword stopped the general's hand

  And buried in his chest.

  Traig turned his sweat-washed eyes to see

  And was blinded by the light

  Of the glinting fitted armor

  And the hair of golden-white.

  Her eyes were soft and sodden,

  But her voice was strong and light:

  "I'll always fight to see you live!"

  And then she blinked from sight.

  "Tanschel! Tanschel! Oh, please come back!"

  He clutched the ruby heart,

  But there was no more sight of her

  Who'd felt the poisoned dart.

  Her sword remained inside the man

  She'd killed to save his life.

  The sword came out, unstained and clean,

  And sharper than a knife.

  The silvered sword gleamed from the moon

  And he thought that he could hear

  Her loyal, loving voice once more

  Or see her lonely tears.

  The ruby seemed to pulse with light

  And pulse to touch as well.

  The blood was pounding in his ears

  And seemed to say "Tanschel!"

  So, in the silence of the night,

  He crept to Frace's lair.

  He crept behind the very man

  Who'd killed his lady fair.

  Frace turned from speaking to his troops

  And shocked at seeing Traig.

  "Good evening, Frace. It's time to talk,

  And the subject won't be vague.

  How would you
like to feel the pain

  Of every wound you've made?"

  Traig touched the blade to Frace's throat

  And then to Frace's side.

  "How would you like to taste the fate

  You gave to her, my bride?"

  "You'll never get away," Frace hissed,

  "My men will see you die!

  Join me and you will grow to heights

  You'd never dreamed you'd fly!"

  "You think that you can tempt me

  And seduce me with your tongue?

  You think that you can take my mind

  As so often you have done?

  I feel your promise move me,

  But it cannot touch my heart.

  My anger and my dearest love

  Have captured every part.

  Deaf am I to silken words,

  But not to anger's call.

  Do not try to touch my heart

  For Tanschel holds it all.

  I would have killed you with my hands,

  But Tanschel gave her blade;

  With such a gift, I cannot fail

  To make you turn a shade.

  Behold your doom! Behold your end!

  Behold your wretched fate!

  You cannot beg for mercy, Frace,

  For all I feel is hate!"

  The ruby throbbed like scarlet blood

  And the sword shone in the night.

  His muscles glinted in the moon

  And his eyes were burning bright.

  "Wait! You cannot hope to live

  If life you take from me.

  My people wait below these steps,

  And, if my death they see,

  They'll rend you, tear you, rip your heart,

  The heart you hold so dear!

  Yes, indeed, you hesitate,

  For there is much to fear.

  But go and tell them all I've done

  And see if they will listen.

  See if troubles touch their heart,

  Or make their teardrops glisten."

  Frace then smiled an evil smile

  And turned back to his crowd.

  "Behold the mighty sinewed Traig,

  Traig the strong and proud!

  He comes to tell you of my sins,

  And all the wrongs I've done;

  He feels that if he tells you all

  The battle will be won.

  Do you think lies will stay your feet,

  My great and loyal band,

  Or will you come to kill him when

  He strikes me with his hand?

  He doesn't fear my magic and

  He doesn't fear my wrath.

  He doesn't fear my minions for

  He thinks they'll clear his path.

  Listen, now, to mighty Traig,

  To all his clever lies.

  See if they will make you flee

  Or make you all arise!"

 

  And waves of anger washed the crowd

  For Traig, "the son of Hell."

  They'd listen though he had no right,

  The awful infidel!

  But, then, Traig spoke as no one had

  From depths of heart and soul,

  Of how their "god" had stolen minds

  And left but his control.

  He spoke of all the awful deeds

  That Frace had had them do,

  And what the stricken land was now,

  And what it had been through.

  He told them of his parents,

  Of how, innocent, they fell,

  And, when he'd told them all of that,

  He spoke of his Tanschel.

  When he bowed his head at last,

  His feelings, words all spent,

  He found that they had not cared or thought

  Of what his words had meant.

  They cried in anger at his voice

  That cursed the Fracian lord:

  "Come take the villain from our king

  And put him to the sword!"

  And, as they rose in awful rage,

  Frace hoped that Traig would wilt,