"Boldness be mine friend"

"What might that be, at this latest of hours?",
As the spy stormed in at midnight's fierce regard;
The king awakened, servants arised from slumber
"Dearest mine," said she who came in last.
"Majesty, thou hast sent for mine aid in battle,
I've searched a mile ahead, yet nothing found;
Enemy's threat is no longer to aspire fear, yet -"
"Then what reason hast thou to commence such noise,
Disturbing eyes that look thus cross on thee,
Have they no gravity upon thine sense, nor mind?"
"Forgiven be mine intrusion, yet ere I have news
From cherished cousin of thine, greatest king;
Mine attempt to regain silence from his part was vain,
Now but prepares he whom thou namest friend to fight
And armours shining in moon's glow I captured
Whilst riding among the trees of thine Black Forest."
"Thereto have I sent thee? Speechless have I been that day?
Have I not urged thee to make the forest round,
Enter it not? For thieves have their lair and hollow home,
For black 'tis called for good reason, and thou art weak;
Thine sword hath but fiery renown, on it thou can'st not rely,
I told thee, and I knew well mine words' good will -"
"Enough with the ranting," said the king's advisor,
"Thine Greatness hath rightfulness beside, still we cannot dwell!
Might I fancy quickened steps towards our aim?
It is but urgent that our army's wake and brisk."
The king turned to face his queen; her eyes were dry;
Yet her lips began to feign an incoming reply,
Lastly she whispered, only heard by him,
"Thou knowst well, perhaps better than the enemy;
And thou hast might of a thousand suns;
Rely but not on mine opinion, I entreat thee;
Go and return with peace's blade intact."
And not one blink did the king waste then;
He sent word to his knight-captain, that present he must be;
He sent men to the surgeon, salves and draughts to bring.
Yet one pigeon stood quiet in the cage, awaiting the note
That would send the signal to the blacksmith's forge.
The advisor followed the king's hastened steps to the study;
"Why should'st thou await dawn's full light?
Late is he whom time shallow seems, my lord!"
King's eyes were now black as water's nighty edge;
"May I serve as the kingdom's ideal, and hope I do
That thou shalst not lead me astray from my goal!
I shall protect everything that calls me their king,
And perhaps still alive I shall return hereto."
The advisor shook his head yet told him so,
"Mine king, I have no better purpose than to aid thee;
Here I must confess I know not thine reason
To wait time's passing and go away in light!
Indeed, I trust thou may defeat thine foes,
And return to thine queen with white hails of joy!"
The king perused the window's view, yet now he turned.
"I trust in this and believe thine council on good foundation;
Let there be no doubt then, I must go at once!
Good-bye, mine friend!"
"Farewell, mine king!"
And off he rode to the blacksmith's home at night.
"Hail, mine lord!" "Art thou awake, forgemaster?"
"Can I be otherwise, with such bustle roaming free?
I have heard such stories, mine king, and can barely believe!"
"Blessed art thou, with such family and friends;
Yet time's not mine; I must then speak thee fast:
Prepare thine best of armours, of thine power's great supply;
And swords, light yet sharp, thou hast thine gift and such.
I have come in person so thou may'st rest assured."
"I convey mine thanks, and promise thine Majesty thus,
I shall give mine best to protect thine kingdom,
And with every moment that thou shall fight thine cousin,
I shall forge an ally between faith, fist and iron."
And so the king left to warn the surgeon's gaze.
The door open, surgeon's eyes so swollen:
"Thine Majesty, at this night's hour!
Even robbers lie in sleep's good grace!"
"I need thine help, physicians are mostly required
In times of war; hast thou not heard?
We are in need of plenty of thine tonics,
Strongest or weak, whatever 'tis thou hast supplied."
"Mine lord, but stocks are empty, do forgive mine words!
With such plagues I fear I have given every last one away!"
The king's face paler grew, and stared the surgeon in the eyes,
And he, having one moment of insight, said more:
"Yet do not despair, the trader of the town must have these!
Yes, indeed, I saw it with mine own poor eyes, he does!
And so terrible the costs, I dare say, at overprice;
The poor die without hope, for this one reason!"
The king refreshed his eyes and rode much further,
Until he and his knights reached the market,
Where the merchant spent his life at night as well:
"Speak quick, tradesman, hast thou enough potions
So as to feed an army growing ill?"
The merchant blinked wildly and replied still asleep:
"Yes, indeed, to mankind's own desire!
Yet why art thou, mine lord, in so great a hurry?"
"Show mine people to thine rooms, and later we can talk."
The knights brought bottles of every healing juice,
And further then they went, to meet the captain's squires.
"Mine lord, I have gathered what was in mine powers,
Let there be no strife at this late hour,
These men will do with little, yet prove excellent in battle;
I've trained them hard for challenges like this,
Art thou content, thine Majesty, with them?"
The king's gaze perused every new face at once;
"Very well, mine captain, I shall return a winner,
For mine name itself states so, I know."
And off he rode ahead of the steady army,
To meet at the forest with the spy we knew.
"Hail, king victorious! We shall see thine glory,
For thou bearst the mightiest of names!
Hail, our king!"
The men rode off to meet their enemy.
Haunting forest's sound reduced by rain;
The moon's shy light became soon hidden
And darkness veiled everything in sight.
The king's own thoughts became less clear, and then he saw
Torches moving throughout the barrier of trees.
"Behold," he whispered, and at last the knight was set:
"Behold," they whispered, and heartbeat was none.
And then the lights went dark before them,
And so the rain captured every soul alive;
Sounds left and right were heard and then lost in the drops,
But still the presence of the enemy became so clear.
Still the others saw nothing of our king;
They wandered their eyes hereabouts as mad:
Alas, their leader cast an arrow
That flew directly over their heads
And stopped into a nearby muddy barrow.
Then swords were heard and rain was silent
And steps upon the dead leaves of the oak were heard
"Might I dare?", thought the king, and flew his bow,
Taking an arrow, aiming at what his fancy thought to be
The foe, and then a whistling and a moan there were.
Then hell unleashed, helmets dropping and swords airborne;
Armours crushing, horses fallen, heads cut off -
Night was cruel, and so turned they, images in head
Of lingering queens at window's sills.
Yet fought and fought, hundreds dead or fled;
Became less clear what for an aim was held -
Alas, a horrid cry came out, and then a shout:
"Mine king!"
The advisor stood silent, and on her chair,
The queen fed her hopes with dreams of madness -
"There must be a promise of his that I overlooked,
I should think otherwise he left for ever."
The nannies looked at her with pitiful eyes,
"And so young was he, and young is she as well!",
They contemplated while playing with the child
That would become king before too long.
"And how sad her thoughts must be, and how mistaken
Was he to believe that he'd survive the attack!"
And by the morning's touch men were sent to gather
Whatever the fight had left to be discovered.
Yet it was not until noon that they returned with news:
"No resting bodies, thine Majesty, were found!
Only black horses, slain with no compassion,
Yet our king's white mare we could not ere find!"
"No soldiers then, or knights, or peasants whatsoever?
Only those poor animals stood there as proof for us?
Then why don't I rejoice this wonderful day,
For I'm assured that he is not free, yet alive he is!"
And the queen danced throughout the castle, frightening the maids,
"Our queen's gone mad, her sanity is lost!"
But one and only thought could not give her rest:
"There can't be no one murdered, or perhaps there can be?
Yet what war is it, I entreat? No, perhaps every slain one
Was taken away, or buried even, by the foe;
I cannot think then that mine king is still alive and well!
No, I must find out, it is mine one duty, and for this, I swear
I will not close mine eyes till truth's before me!"
And so she went away, without no one's knowledge,
For her mission was too great to be tainted so.
The forest was behind her, far behind her steps,
But still no sign of fight, of steps, of man, of ending.
"Yet the rain can't have gone away without a trace!
I must find the prints of their pace's way!"
Yet the forest's rest soon vanished, trees were there again
And the queen's fearless heart became less so,
For monstruous beings were known to dwell therein
And what a king they'd do was for good reason worse
Than to a queen's mild cries that could not go far.
Yet this forest was so known to her, indeed familiar;
Many mornings spent to walk with her first beau -
And then she remembered, shameful as the memory were:
Her king's cousin had been her first dream.
"I cannot think of that, for I am not entitled,
Yet I sense they're near, so I must proceed and never stop,
I shall find thee, cousin, and be it in mine powers,
I shall leave thee with a no more beating heart!"
Yet for hours and hours, till evening she wandered
And the forest's trees barely knew an end;
Still she would not change the aim of all her thoughts.
While walking and turning her head with both fear and hope,
She discovered among a pile of lonesome leaves a sword:
Silvery, with a lion's figure on the hilt, she recognised it;
And then the question haunted, "what should I believe?"
Still she rested not, and midnight's care surrounded,
She escaped the angst of everything about.
The woods left behind her, and she entered a village,
Where poorest men looked up to her and bowed.
Though not her kingdom, she proffessed a smile,
Believing it were known where her king was lying,
And entered the tavern, or perhaps that it was;
But only drunkards were to find, and so she went ahead;
A singing bard then caught her eye, and waiting among the dancing folk,
She asked of a stranger in armour, brought that morning,
Perhaps ashamed, or perhaps proud and merry?
And the minstrel replied, "no, ma'am, there is but one new peasant,
Stripped perhaps from the greatest of glories,
For his features are fine, and his face is mild,
Yet his garments makes one cringe with pity."
"Hast thou seen his eyes, I ask, perhaps thou know'st?"
"Yes, ma'am, blue as the pond's clear mirror,
And even milder than a starry sky!"
"I must be mistaken, for mine king's not so;"
And in disappointment, she went ahead in tears.
"This place shan't do, for he's not here;
Yet I might as well see to this poor blue-eyed man,
For he might be one of his squires."
Yet the man was guarded by such fierce people,
And she dared not speak, then how to get to him?
Avoiding the watchmen, she found a small window,
Through which lighted candles threw their beam.
"Good man, what hast thou done for such watch?"
Only the face of the prisoner she saw, and nothing else:
"I have fought for mine king and well punished I am."
The queen's voice soothed, and her heart much lighter,
"What king speak'st thou of, a noble and so kind?"
The prisoner's answer was indeed surprising:
"Art thou, mine queen, that I hear at this hour?"
And she delighted in this low and humble answer,
"If thine queen is searching, then yes, 'tis who I am."
"Thou greatest, his Majesty's been taken, yet know not where;
I am but his mere squire, much information I happen to spare.
Yet our captain must know more, and perhaps he knows best."
"And where is this captain, this man that thou still talk'st of?",
"I know not where, and even in which world,
For last night's battle was indeed beyond equality,
And fighting one could not tell where the others,
Therefore I must confess I know only of mine place,
And this I regard as most hurting and hopeless.
"Then remain well, good man, and fear not,
By tomorrow's light a life be saved or taken;
And this life, I fear, must be one only;
For if I find mine king his cousin shall soon perish,
Indeed if not, mine own breath be stolen."
And so she fled, indeed the night was black;
And her mind full with restless, frailest hope,
And another village she stumbled across that night,
Yet nothing alive was to be seen or heard.
"Should I give in? Stays it in mine powers?"
A new suspicion grew and turned her thoughts.
"Perhaps he wishes me not to find him,
Yet that is not the case, I trust him so!"
Upon exiting the village, the last houses around,
She heard whispers from some bushes, and she froze:
"Nor fiend, nor friend can bring me rest now,
Then I should not be scared of what's to come,"
She barely had the chance to think, and from their shelter
Two men appeared, weary and slow in their pace:
"Ma'am, thou hast little to find here, for we know
Of thine endeavour to find the lost soul of our king:
He is but taken away by his cousin the vile,
And nobody knoweth of his whereabouts!"
"How doth ye know, poor men, of mine intent?"
"Thine demeanor says it all, thine Majesty,
Thou art our queen, and he is still our king;
For this reason we hide till dawn to find him."
"Then joineth me, squires, for dusk is far,
And in darkness he shan't be helped."
Thus they went farther, and at first ray's cry
Entered the last of forests, the journey's end.
Yet this forest alike with none before their eyes,
And creatures were heard bellow, yet the three
Stood in bravery, yet silent, and as they paced
Upon paths unknown to mind, neither to maps
Yet known to heart and an aching sight of hope:
A helmet shining in rising beams of sun,
And herald's sign appeared thus clear to them:
"Our king is close, reigneth our king!",
Queen's guards then rejoiced, yet it would not last:
Horrid sounds surrounded every leaf on earth,
And their scared eyes skyward then moved.
Majestic creatures such as these they'd not seen,
Still golden birds they reckoned, and so they said,
"No sign of fear, for these shall do much good,
And for their wisdom we our king shall find."
Our queen's heart began to stride apace, and then she sighed,
"What bringeth ye, mine faith or mine defeat?"
And a quickened thought remained forth in her mind,
"Fear not, for joy they carry under their wings."
And the first bird touched earth, and so the second,
And many more were to land before her;
Upon approaching, their mild light eyes spoke their hearts,
"Your king is close, yet fight for him ye must -
For as he fought another night for ye, dear souls,
And so are ye to prove thine swords are gold."
Then earth shook and trolls came out of slumber,
Letting out roars of maddening fright in them,
And the birds flew off, leaving only traces
Of golden blossoms of flowers' haze.
Bold were they, yet our queen was bolder,
As to the men, at once they fled with fear,
Never intent to brave their foes, yet ever coward.
"Now halt, ye creatures, for mine sword's your perish,"
And the first bear was slain to ground.
Our queen's own heart was not to rest,
Therefore her hands would not retain astray.
"Mine hope, your end," when second beast was down.
And upon third move, her sword drowned sound,
"Mine love, the shattered thing ye aimeth for."
And so she was only, surrounded by dark leaves
And silence was at rest, restored for better purpose;
And so the queen proceeded, yet not before
Watching the horror's corpses vanish to night's black.
Bantering, her thoughts were as storm's cruel thunders,
"Mine task I've done, what quest shall it be now?
For I am not yet broken, mine might still dwells inside."
A sirenic voice broke through those woven words:
"Thine achievement we shall recall,
Yet for now, though must face thine last of trials,
Thine third one, as you ought to be aware:
For thine struggles for thine king we've noticed,
And unrewarded thou proceedest to finality."
"Blessed I can't be called for now, yet who shall knoweth,
Perhaps I shall regret mine words ere present."
"Thou hast a wondrous goal to bring achievement,
Wait but, then stare in disbelief!
Thine king is not afar herefrom, so we shall lead you
Then find him and rejoice in thine rightful aim!"
"So I am to find at last mine king? Then why the terror,
Why should I curse this third of trials,
Perhaps I should know better? Yet that cannot be!"
And so she was to a cave nearby led in,
And voices of angry men she heard and stopped her pace:
"What may that be, I ask, ye wise birds?"
"Those are thine cousin's men, torturing thine sought."
The lady's ears then shut with angst,
And runs, and hides, and then steps forth!
And in torches' light she sees her king beloved,
In peasant's wear and face disgraced, and then she cries:
"Mine king!"
The advisor stood silent, and on their chairs,
The smith's and merchant's and physician's eyes were wild:
"Why are we to remain now without king, nor queen?",
The physician's mind proffessed a need for answers.
"And to think our foe was stronger, that shan't do!",
The merchant would make his puzzle known.
"Indeed, the terror struck upon us, that night we all recall!",
The blacksmith urged his eyes, so as not to cast their tears.
The advisor stood silent, for he knew so plenty,
Yet he would not mirror such monsters into words.
 Three nights' time had passed since the queen's departure,
And not a word had been given as proof of her welfare.
No lords, no ladies, no beggars and no bards
Knew of her whereabouts at the time there was.
Yet the three questioned, and would not rest, nor sleep,
For truth is ever present, though not near, so one must seek;
Yet too much trouble they could not spare for such,
For folk required their skillful services be present.
Yet a messenger stormed in, with yellow note in hand,
"Ye got news, yet I cannot tell what sort!
Here, a carrier bird landed on mine shoulder ere now,
And this paper to me brought has."
The three rised at once from their stools,
The merchant grasping the note, and then read loud:
"Want ye your king, fight then for him must!"
Title foreign, yet the advisor knew so well.
Yet the advisor still quiet sat and watched,
Then the smith turned and asked with doubting heart:
"Know'st thou of anything that we yet do not?
For whilst we, curious, awaited this strange note,
Thine face looked plain, thine smile but I saw:
Thou know'st everything, so speak out at once."
The advisor became sober, yet his eyes alive:
"What I know is, sir, whom the note belongs.
Further I should not guess, for it's not mine place;
Yet one must always suspect, for it's all that one hath."
"Then speak, why this vile look? Don't thou hear me, speak!"
The advisor replied with sighs, "mine fellows, I fear
That what stays therein has been said already.
And with humble sorrow for what I am to say,
I should begin a tale of now-lost silence."
The merchant and the smith would wait no more,
Yet the surgeon, hopeful till the end, remained calm:
"Hurry not, mine fellows, hear him tell his tale,
For one should not guess, for it's not one's place.
Suspect you may as well, yet be still now, hear him."
The surgeon's patience was rather odd than right
Still the two were seated, and the tale saw light:
"Upon a time with dragons scattered across the sky,
Man saw his powers, in everything about.
Man thought himself too good, and perhaps so he was,
And so he turned into a self-destroying peril.
And Man turned wealth into a burden to be slain -
Man turned brotherhood into treacherous pain.
So hatred cursed Man, and everything beneath him,
And whatever good, or better, even best, there be!
With each passing day another soul betrothed
To the circus of madness woven with greed.
Yet a hero in armor was seen ashore, and so Man went,
Demanding his surname, and wealth and kind,
Yet the hero stood silent, and on his horse,
Man wondered of what sort this stranger be.
Yet no second was wasted, and alas they went:
Man and Hero became a bond's slave,
Not the brotherhood every other knoweth,
For it lay not in truth, but alas in greed.
And so years passed, and both took other paths:
Hero 'came beloved, one would kneel at once before him;
Still Man stood hidden, drawn to his vile plans,
And when the day came, Hero became king.
Finding his wicked project, Hero expelled Man,
And Man was crowned to reign upon a far away land.
Hero watched his kingdom mature and prosper,
And light at heart his reign was best of all,
Yet never forgetful was his head when watching
Fire's tongues rising from afar, Man's ground.
Yet his days were pleasure's own descendence,
Yet it was not to last. For Man's return was seen,
And fight upon skylines one could but well see."
"I seem to place thine tale upon reality's hour ere!",
Spoke our merchant, and frowned then he proceeded,
"Know'st thou only this? Or perhaps there is more?"
What brimstone in his voice, how loud his claim!
"Indeed I know, yet I should not tell," the reply then came.
The merchant quit the room, determined to go home;
And fetch provisions for the journey, for he knew now this:
Seek his king and queen he ought to, alone even if be!
Before he strove for answers, company was seen:
The smith and the phyisician, bearing frowns with them.
"Leave not yet, thou noble kind of man,
For we are imprisoned in conviction's surest plan!"
And they all went, holding the advisor for a liar,
Searching and waiting, then pacing till night's fall.
Upon their arrival to the last of villages,
The din across the people surpassed their joy and luck:
"What is this great occurrence?," the smith asked a peasant.
"Kind sir, we all but one thing know:
The beast has been slain, let all rejoice in feast!"
The three glanced one at the other, and the physician dared say:
"Now sees one a mere bear, in forest's deepest place,
What beast did that man talk of, and perhaps is he sane?"
And further they all went, wishing ending to their chase.
A tavern they discovered, where folk were awake
With songs and dance, ale and wine enchanted.
"Good folks, I reckon ye art fine and well -
Pray tell us, what found ye so bewitching to rejoice?"
"Our king is dead, long live our king!",
The merry crowd then sang.
"And who reigneth for now upon ye?",
Asked the merchant, quick to sigh relieved.
"A lord came from afar, and bringing with his queen,
Ye hat not seen so fair a creature!"
Yet the three were past doubt now, for they knew well
Who this fairest creature was to be.
"And hath your king night's darkest eyes?",
Inquired; "indeed he hath, and mildly cast they looks,"
"Where is thine king, perhaps he is near?"
"Indeed he is, yet sure we are not so;
He was seen at the pond, speaking to his queen -
Go and find him, if ye really must!"
But the merchant wished to rest;
He laid his head down, at last to sleep.
The surgeon's vice looked only at ale casks -
And so the blacksmith went to find his lord.
Indeed one had not much to search, for there it was,
An eerie pond delighting in moon's eyes.
And by the pond, Hero and his wife share words,
And spoken love may not be now rephrased.
Yet the sight of him brings warm inside smith's heart,
And then he sighs with oceans of gained hope:
"Mine king!"
The advisor stood silent, and on his throne
The king perused his bearing, for words he would not hear:
"And to think I trusted thee, in mine worst of hours,
And every blink thou would conspire in thine mind,
How to serve thine master best, this I saw thou knew -
It  was not I thou slept less than lions for,
Indeed, my cousin was thine lord, and that I reckon now."
The king was quiet for a time, but then he said,
"Thou shalst be expelled, away with thee, thou pest!"
And the advisor was taken away where one would never know.
Then the king turned to his squires:
"Brave men, I shall reward your boldness and your might!
Knighted all of you shall be, and may never be such need for you,
For harmony's restored, and peace's blade intact!"
The squires left the throne room, hailing at their king.
"Thou, the handiest of surgeons, weep no more,
For thou art a drunkard, yet a loyal one!
Thou shalst aid receive, and mourn no more,
Indeed, thou art worthy of everything thou hast."
The surgeon left; the merchant was at turn:
"Thou, wittiest of tradesmen, I am much inclined
To see in thee the most powerful of minds -
Receive my reward, thine priceless gold and silver,
Go now, and meet thine day's upheaval."
Alas, the smith had now to stand.
The king smiled, and then commenced to tell:
"Thou, forgemaster, hast been noble;
I fancied thou should never leave thine anvil,
And for this, I am required to deny
Any refusal from thine part in this:
Thou shall be recalled in ages to come,
Not only for thine bravery in thine seek,
Yet also for thine demeanor ere now."
And the smith went home, pleased in his heart,
Yet the wildest thought stoned him into place:
One must recall a king, and not a smith,
So then he gathered all men and women found.
Another night was at a close, when all,
With their finest wear and brightest smiles on face,
They startled the court with their brisk pace,
And their king took his rightful place upon the throne.
What he would say, we shan't ever know,
For before his chance, the people, rich and poor, then knelt.
And with glorious blessedness, one piercing voice shook walls:
"Hail, our king!"

Twice

Heart without Mind can do much well,
Though Mind without Heart one cannot so tell.
Every physician should state the patient's health
Without understanding, buried be in wealth.

Morning

We're raining and things will get worse;
If we turn our minds from puddles
We'll regain our best advisor.
We've been challenged before,
Why do you fear the battle?
We're raining and the sun's return is close.
You cannot see beyond your cradle,
You wish to let it sink, mended by the stars
But healing you won't get from a poet.
I have my hope, but you're not worthwhile.