The Saga of Conn the Black - Canto III

Canto III

Tall and straight, Collum the Warden,
Gate-keeper, stalwart and worthy.
Fair braids tumbling onto shoulders broad,
Spear-shaft strong in steady hand,
Holding its point to Conn's proud heart.
"Whither goest thou?" in voice of thunder,
"And whence have you come?"
Conn's eye-hair raised in unspoken question
And he paused a while - an emerald fire.
"Know you me well, Collum of the gate.
We have stood shoulder to shoulder
On the line of rending death.
We have called loud to the same gods
And broken our fast at the same board.
Why do you ask me such?"
Then Collum the Tall, bending his head
With shame-glimmers flashing through his eyes:
"'Tis the Word of the King, old friend,
That none enter whom he hath not named.
I know of your worth, as does he,
But for the mead... I have said too much."
Then stood Conn to the ground, tired feet
Squelching in the mud of a host's passing,
His eyes straying through the gate
At the flickering light beyond.
Then smiled he at Collum and clapped
Hand to tired shoulder.
"Tell me, my friend, have the old laws
Of guesting and fire fallen by the way?
Is a tale or words from afar
No longer the price of a meal!
These are the gifts I bear, spear-brother,
And I can give them to none but the King."


Slán

Silverwolf
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