The Timid Knight

The woods were rife with evil sounds, and moans of wakeful owls,
The sinister o'powering gloom sprung from its fetid bowels.
And through these woods on sway-backed horse, with sword sheathed at his side,
Rode Agastan, the timid knight, to find a place to hide.

It all began a fortnight past, before a festal fire,
When ale flowed freely till the morn midst sound of lute and lyre.
The hardy brood, all drunk as skunks, they sought a telling quest,
The short straw went to Agastan, apart from all the rest.

He seemed to shrivel at the sight, the short straw held his gaze
As shadows danced on chiseled walls from midnight's roaring blaze.
He felt the stares and deemed them glares, he felt somehow apart,
And wished instead of tenderness he had a feral heart.

As Alton, Stevic, Tor and Luthe approached our timid knight,
He wilted as a frozen rose, left out on winter's night.
The dread welled up to fill his throat, it stole his tiny voice,
Surrounded in this giant hall he knew he had no choice.

The tall and hairy Luthe spoke out, his echo filled the hall,
He roared at timid Agastan who seemed so very small.
"The quest be yours and yours alone, I charge thee here tonight,
To save the maiden Arianne and free her from her plight.

Then Tor commenced where Luthe left off, his words slurred from the ale.
"Our quest be not a simple one, it be your fate to fail.
The maiden Arianne you see, was one I sought to wed.
Her feckless father caught her ear and now they both have fled."

O'ercome by ale and midnight's hour Tor's eyes then drifted closed,
And Luthe the dark and hairy one had also slumped and dozed.
But Stevic caught the other's drift, no silence he'd allow,
"You'll find the maiden Arianne, and we will tell you how.

You'll take the horse called Balderush, a single sword you'll bear,
To let all know how brave thee be, no armor will thee wear.
Now be ye gone while Tor doth sleep, thy quest is underway,
And know the father of the maid will likely be thy prey."

Thus by the morn, our timid knight, those words fresh in his mind
Was off to seek maid Arianne, his quest quite ill-defined.
Aye this he knew, maid Arianne to be returned to Tor,
But who knew where she might have gone, he wished he knew much more.

He asked about the castle but no one gave him a clue,
A shoulder shrug, a puzled look, he wondered what they knew.
He heard the huddled whispers and he sensed the sniggered stares.
They echoed throough the banquet hall and up the curving stairs.

So fled he quickly in the night to seek maid Arianne,
And all the while he cursed those four from whence this quest began.
And now he rides, a fortnight gone, into this brooding wood,
Not knowing where to search for her, or even if he should.

In midst of dark oppressing gloom, a voice assails his ears,
The words that hang in stagnant air just raise his mounting fears,
For in the murk of midnight['s fog where humans dare not dwell,
The eerie sounds that fill his ears are like the steeple's knell.

And then a glow, two yellow eyes, a bland hypnotic gaze,
That fixes his and holds him fast while piercing midnight's haze.
An owl perched right before his face comes magically to view.
"Take heed to me, oh noble knight, I'll tell you what to do.

Fair Arianne be close at hand, by chance you've journeyed well.
Her father holds her 'gainst her will, and he, the infidel
Has plans that cause e'en Lucifer to fix an evil grin,
So you, my lad, must persevere, before those plans begin.

The drunken four have sent thee off on such a noble quest,
A fortnight's travel's brought thee here, but now tis time to rest.
The hill that stands beyond the wood, be mindful of it's height,
But know you'll only reach the crest through cleverness, not might.

Surprisingly, a restful sleep, awakened by the sun,
The sound of birds and cricket's chirp, his day has now begun.
He searches but can see no owl, and puzzles what to do,
Remembering the night before, that enigmatic clue.

Thirsty now he sees the pond, then kneels so he might drink,
And as he does the vision seen gives cause to make him think.
Reflected there is not a knight but just a humble man,
But what he sees makes all things clear, at last he has a plan.

Please be appraised that yonder hill that rises from the plain
Is likely destined as the place where someone could be slain.
But death be not the thing he seeks for father or for knight,
For some deserve much more than death, perhaps an ebbing blight.

The sword left 'neath a withered tree, he mounts old Balderush
And slips of t'ward the fated hill, through thorn-strewn underbrush.
The tear of cloth, a muted groan, and then a winding road -
The mist hangs low upon the hill, what'ere can it forbode?

The sway-backed horse keeps to its head, as though he knows the way,
While Agastan slumps o'er his neck, as though about to pray.
His plan rolls 'round his frenzied brain, his turmoil makes him quake,
Perhaps he'd rather turn and flee, this quest a dire mistake.

The horse plods on as if today is one like all the rest.
The castle doors loom large ahead, astride the barren crest.
"Ay, who be you?" rings out above, there's now no turning back,
For on the paraput he stood, a phantom dressed in black.

"I be the servant boy sent out, a good one I be too,
Ready now to serve my lord, I be the servant who
Will work and clean a fair thee well, to do your bid and call.
I even sing and dance a bit, the lad who does it all.

The day be young and promise filled, and work be on my mind,
So give me tools and orders too, if you be so inclined.
Some food and rest is all I ask, then I'll be on my way,
Unless, of course, my work please thee, and thee would have me stay."

"There be some things that I do need, the work too hard for me.
A young and bullish lad you be, t'will be no charge for thee.
The tools be stored behind this door," he loosed the heavy pin,
And glancing at the smiling knight, he quickly stepped within.

And just as quick the door swung shut, the pin put back in place.
Remembering the owl's words, a smile crept 'cross his face.
The muffled, angry, hate-laced words that filled the now fresh air,
Made Agastan, the timid knight, glad he was not in there.

Twas only minutes till he heard the sweetest sound on earth,
Maid Arianne arrived with haste, to mark his second birth.
A few words said, his plan explained, she smiled but shook her head,
She'd not go back to Tor, oh no, but here is what she said.

"You've saved me sir, you hear those screams, they'd be my curse in life,
But as my fervent dreams fortold, I'd soon be someone's wife.
The look that came from sky-blue eyes said all his heart could bear,
And as they mounted Balderush, our knight was well aware

That what began so long ago in terror and in fear,
Had magically turned full around, from there to fin'ly here.
Two arms cling tightly to his waist, warm breath now fills his ear,
And what the knight and maid will do is suddenly quite clear.