Hel’s Storm

"I remember one eve in early spring," said Apieron, "when the labor of the day was done so that the folk gathered to my hall, armsmen and red-armed farmers, wives and bains. The smell of a roasting feast mingled with fragrances cast in bees-wax candles. Maids bustled happy under Melonie's loving governance under which no child ever cried hungry, and the dogs crunched fatty bones before the fire cackling bright in our hearth. Setie shushed Jilly when she would follow Ilacus who tottered amongst the wolf hounds, his pudgy hands grasping their shaggy pelts like they were ponies. No child was ever so safe!" "Then came the skald. Music we'd had and sweet, though dwindling to a soft background when his voice rose resonant in the hall. Gods and virgins floated there, and goddesses whimsical or stern, but soon the song rose to the valor of men who, noble in cause, yield like maidens their bodies to the fickle scythe that is war. Babes were gathered and arms clasped loved ones as my people heard of elders and women wise in counsel, and of mothers who give all of themselves to children, and men likewise to kith and king." "King, country."Apieron paused,then gathered himself. "When he ceased, there was no yell or acclaim, too tight were their throats for speech, and nobly he sat, observing his true reward in the shining eyes of my people. And noble, I gifted unto him silver, for I am, or was, merely a minor fief holder within a rich kingdom. Yea, I filled his lap with one tenth of Windhover, and named him 'Bard'. The timbers are blackened and the hall broken, yet his song happened, and must be alive somewhere in the hearts of those that heard him. Those not slain in the reaving." "Who was this minstrel, who sang so worthily?" asked the other even as he remained frustratingly removed from recognition,although the voice was soft and near. "It must not have been important at the time, yet I heard tell he was generous in his passing, to where I do not know." "He seems passing familiar", said the other, a slight undertone of humor in the voice as he faded, and Apieron woke to the camp grown still in the night, and under stars very bright.